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spectrelove · 3 months

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i turned 25 yesterday.

i went out on a limb and had some people over to celebrate. ive been so stressed that i thought doing something with friends one night might be a relief. but my social anxiety just rocketed thru the roof. an hour had gone by and nobody had showed up yet after i spent the day literally racing around to make sure everything was ready in time and i started to get sick to my stomach. people started to show up and it was fine one by one, showing them around and having a moment with them to catch up, but soon i just felt so scattered, and my hearing disability can't pick up specific words in chatter and noisy din, so i just got frazzled and distracted, and every time i joined a conversation i wanted to be a part of it would come to a dead halt. it was a whole heap of mini-interactions that deepened my self-loathing with every swing, the self-loathing that i thought i had healed waaaay more than this. i even took 3x the amount of beta blockers that i usually do and it did nothing to alleviate the sensation i was going thru. here are all the friends i love in my living room and i hate myself so much, i feel so pathetic and far away from all of them.

i realized that today when i was reflecting on it, all wet and weepy and emotionally drained. soggy. last night cast stage lights on that excruciating feeling of alienation that i've been sinking in since i gained consciousness. not to sound edgy but it was like my embryonic fluid. idk why i was born with it already settled in my stomach like a copper egg. it's even shittier because all of these people love me, they tell me they do, and they showed up for me because they care about me, and by the end of the night i was so upset by them. nobody got too drunk or anything like that, everyone was just kinda on one. i kept getting interrupted, i couldn't get a word in, i couldn't figure out who was saying what to whom, and i felt so vapid anytime i did finally say something. just felt so fucking lame and flimsy. i kept looking at a*** across the room and wishing i was just with him. every time he laughed i felt squeezed.

annie even baked me such a cute cake and i was so overstimulated and out of my body that i couldnt taste it. while we were all trying it in the kitchen i held back tears. i think it's just that i've been so extremely stressed for the last 2 months, and trying really, really hard to keep my shit together and improve myself, re-structure my routines, work doubles to try to pay rent and attend class while doing so, putting critical thought into my own self-development, make goals having to do with personal finance, and meanwhile getting like,,, maybe 45% from the people around me, i mean, it's like running thru quicksand and im already so burnt out. i was looking for a night with ppl i love where i could feel goofy and relaxed. but i remembered why i used to drink so heavily. it was to run away from this fucking feeling.

while the last 4 were leaving at 1am i was trying my best to usher them to the front door because i couldn't hold back the tears anymore. 25, i'm not gonna have a crisis, because i'm getting my fucking shit together before i can. but 25 and you can try as hard as you want because you can't predict shit and it's always gonna be difficult. 25 and you can't rely on expectations. 25, whatever, it's all gonna be ok. a*** had to drive b back to their place so i knew he was gonna have to leave. he kissed me and brought me in to hug me and asked if i had a good birthday. all i could do was sort of nod because i couldn't even lie. i held onto him and when we pulled away i tried to hide my eyes. he actually left. and c******* did too. and my stomach dropped, the fucking copper egg dude, that confirmation that no matter how hard i try i will never feel like i'm on the same plane as the people i love, i will always feel this fucking loneliness.

i locked the door and just like immediately had a total nervous breakdown....haha.... trying to muffle the sobs on my couch, i felt crazy. shaking, seeing static, feeling sorry for myself. it's so pathetic. maybe it's also largely the fear that my medication isn't working, that im not as removed from the bad depressive episodes as i thought i was. i like couldn't believe that a*** just left too. and after all this, spending the day i took off to prepare something nice for other people, the very thing i like decided to do, i was left alone in the party debris circling the drain. but here's where i found a mark of change. when i saw what i looked like in the bathroom mirror, i decided to reach out and ask for help instead of rotting in my own dark spiral like i always do. and i texted a*** i actually really did not want to be alone and that i was upset. i missed a call from him a minute later and he texted me "im coming back!" while i was cleaning dishes and trying to stop the crying he knocked on my door and when he saw the way my makeup was running he almost started laughing with that surprised "aw, oh my god" and he hugged me so hard. like really held the back of my head to his chest and he let me bury my face into him and i started crying again, and he kept me there so tight and let me cry. i just kept apologizing.

he said he knew i was feeling that way and that he could see it all in my eyes and that he was going to call me when he got home after dropping buckley off. he said he saw me stare off into space when everyone was in the kitchen. im still thinking about it, how he was tuned into me the whole night.

things have been a little rocky with us because i've been extremely stressed out and he's been depressed. but he has been so sweet to me these past couple of days and im crying just thinking about it. ive been so weepy and sensitive lately. :( tuesday night he came to dinner with my family and was super present and held my hand and in the parking lot he walked me to his car cuz he said he had something for me and handed me a gorgeous bouquet of roses. and of course i burst into tears! ive never been given roses before!! and i wasn't expecting anything. i've been feeling so distant from him and that gesture just brought me back. and after i went home to put them in water i drove across the street to his and we played video games and then had sex for the first time in a minute and it was really loving and hot and lingering and he was paying a lot of attention to me and into me and focusing on making me cum. and that's how i could tell that my mind is seriously off right now, because i couldn't let myself drop into the experience like normal. i could barely feel it like i usually do. and this is the thing that i basically crave. but after i was just racing thoughts and out of body again. after, he played bass while i lay close to him, and we talked about music and he showed me some new riffs and stuff and i was happy to be with him. i tried to tell him i was not good and he was genuinely concerned but i couldn't verbalize that i needed him to, like, essentially smother me to make me feel secure again. we got down into bed and put on hackers and at one point i mentioned something about big boobs, a joke, and was like if i had big tits i would have a whole different personality. i don't think it would be good for me." and, like truly an excellent burn cuz he was joking too, he was like "yea, youd have a lot more personality." but im so insecure right now that i like fought back tears and felt that comment grip my ribs and he saw my face fall and felt so bad, apologizing and telling me it was a joke, and pulling me in and kissed my forehead and face a bunch and it alleviated it. i don't know why i feel so shitty about myself right now. he held me to his chest and cradled my head and let me sleep, telling me to get rest because i had been up since 7a. he held me the whole night. at one point i woke up and our foreheads were pressed together so hard, really jamming our heads together in our sleep. and when i woke up to leave in the morning, i kissed him goodbye and, all sleepy and cute and quiet he said "happy birthday". my heart skipped.

before the party he came over to help me get ready. i have the pretty red lace top that corset laces down the back and he spent a long time lacing it up for me, making sure it was perfect, and it was quiet and sweet and romantic. and he picked my skirt to go with it. at one point it had come undone and, automatically and in front of everyone, he fixed it, tying it up, asking me if it was too tight, and it felt so loving, he was really doting on me, and i felt fragile and sweet. in that moment i had the thought that we would be happily married.

and here he was, having already resolved to come back -- i looked at the ground behind him and he had brought an overnight bag. and he absolutely took care of me. he let me rant and wiped my tears and he made me laugh. "don't birthdays suck? i told you." i know!!! he gave me such a great pep talk, and validated me for all the hard work ive been doing, called out all the idiots, and we related on everything, we really are the same person like he said back when we first started dating, and by the end i felt 100x better. he let me hold onto him as long as i wanted. and we talked about our relationship too, unexpectedly, and it was all of the validation that ive really been needing. "i feel lucky, too. you're so awesome, and fucking hot, and cute and goofy and smart. im really happy to be with you." and he genuinely complimented my outfit. and he reassured me that everyone had fun. and he didnt judge me at all when i told him about how everyone made me feel, he took it all in stride. he really understood.

he helped me clean up more, and while we were in the kitchen we were talking about funny cats and i said that i really am gonna get a cat within these next few months, that it's time. and he goes "i know, ive been thinking im gonna get one too. it would just be really nice to have one to hang out with." and then he said that we should get one. i was genuinely exhilarated, it felt like my heart actually opened. "really???" "yeah :)" "i would love that!!!! i think about that all the time! I think we would have a really great cat." and general timeline is within the few months. i asked him where it would stay and he said it should be at my place. i joked about shared custody. we joked about if it's a shitty cat we could rehome it and try again. but the idea of us having a cat together has filled me with so much hope again. and we started getting ready for bed, brushing our teeth together and changing into comfy clothes and talking and laughing the whole time, and it felt like we really lived together in my place, our own space, and it felt fun!! i felt so much better with him! and natural and at ease. and looking at him over the bed i had that thought again that we could have a really lovely, fun, and safe life together. we talked about the beginning. he said i was an obvious flirt with him. apparently when we went inside hotel vegas for the show i smiled at him and reached out and touched his arm. i was like shocked pikachu. and then defended myself but defeated, admitted that of course i thought he was cute. but why didn't he respond to my message the next day after we hung out all night? it left the impression that he had bitches, considering his status as hot rawk starr in a metal band. he said he was nervous. it had been a long time since he had talked to anyone or been with anyone. i reveled in how everything has panned out. i told him that i was such a freak with him because he is everything i prayed for in a partner, and when i met him i was like no way would this guy be into me. but i get to be with the person i used to visualize. and he seemed actually moved by that. kissed me soft and sweet.

we snuggled down into my bed and he put on the two towers because he's a perfect boyfriend who knows what's gonna calm me down. i was like "ugh!!! this is what my day should have been like!!!! can we do this next year?!" he was like "lotr extended edition marathon? with themed snacks?" i kissed him all over his face. he fell asleep in minutes and i loved the whole moment.

#journal

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sunrayretriever · 7 months

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ok so im gonna put this one under a read more since its just my thoughts and not actually like. safety information that everyone should know (again nobody is obligated to read especially this because its fucking long and just a heads up im gonna get kinda gruesome so :\ but if u read all the way thru then u are a real one and i wanna kiss u sloppy style

meyah okay so. follower, come here im gonna tell u something. im not a professional. im not a meteorologist. all of my research and information is found online and by myself. but i have seen the damage that the earth inflicts on us. it is not an act of god, and i really dont care for when people say 'mother nature is pissed'. this is real. this is real life. the damage done to people is real. lives are torn apart. entire families are wiped away with the debris of their poorly constructed homes. if you survive, theres a million different ways you could be injured, and not just physically. the trauma, the grief, the emotional pain of losing not only lives but your home, your business, your car, your pets, your livestock, your city's infrastructure, your community... to lose it all is something that makes me choke up just thinking about..

ive seen videos of people huddled in shelters above ground screaming and crying and praying and the sound of wind and glass crashing and debris flying and sirens going off is pure horror.

something even more terrifying is videos of people STANDING NEAR WINDOWS AND GLASS DOORS AND EVEN OUTSIDE during tornadoes. glass nails 2x4s bricks furniture cars. they become bullets in those winds. wood can get embedded in telephone poles. do you know how incredible that is? its hard for even me to believe!!! and here in the united states IT HAPPENS PRETTY OFTEN!!

cw im about to show u destroyed houses!! click away now if u dont wanna see but i really wanna show anyone who DOES wanna know abt the damage these fuckers cause!!!

so i want you to imagine here. this is your neighborhood. let's say we have an EF5, the most intense a tornado can get. now, a tornado can be rated an EF5, but that doesn't mean it does EF5 level damage THE WHOLE WAY. shall we take a look at how your neighbors houses fared?

mmkay so here we have EF0 level damage. about 35-40% of the tornadoes in the united states are rated this level.

not too bad! shingles are replaceable!

as we go on we pass by a house with EF1 level damage.

whoa! 35% of tornadoes in the US are this level!! but it's JUST the framing of the roof, right? thank goodness the house stayed mainly intact! hopefully everyone followed their safety plan and got to shelter right away!

looks like the house a couple miles down got hit with EF2 level damage.. their entire roof was blown right off, exposing the whole house and everything in it to rain, hail, wind and debris from the tornado... but its just the roof, right? i mean, only between 15-19% of tornadoes get this strong...

EF3 level damage. 6% of tornadoes are this level. everything but some walls and the roof were destroyed. where will that family live now? who's going to help them clean up?

EF4 level damage. almost all above-ground structures are vulnerable to a tornado of this strength. this was a well-built, permanent home. look at how the tree snapped. these winds can uproot the entire thing. thats a 4ft+ tall projectile. thank god only about 1.1% of tornadoes in the US are this strong... but what could be stronger than that?

EF5 level damage. 0.1% tornadoes are this strength. the last one on record was in 2013, moore oklahoma. it destroys virtually everything in its path, and can rip people out of their basements if their door isnt reinforced. the memories from that home are gone. completely gone. there are appliances and vehicles that were never found from tornadoes this intense.

and these are well anchored, permanent houses. mobile homes were destroyed and twisted back in the EF2 level. anything above that turns them into smithereens. lost to the mercy of the winds.

"so james," you say my lovely follower, "what's the whole takeaway from this? what's the point?"

and i grab your hand very gently. and i look you in the eyes. autism be damned, we are locking eyes. and i ask you this:

what if it was you? would you know what to do? are you weather aware? do you have a plan on where to go when your towns tornado sirens go off? does your own even HAVE tornado sirens? what about your pets? the people you love? do they know?

for a while i felt bad for.. trying to spread this around. i felt like i was being a downer. i dont know why but it felt taboo to talk about... i dont know if it makes people uncomfortable or scared but.. it needs to be talked about. we cannot stop the weather from doing this but we can make sure we're safe. we can keep ourselves safe.

i don't want you to be afraid of these storms. i know plenty of people who have a fear of severe weather. fuck, for the first 23 years of my life i was one of them! when the tornado sirens would go off, even for a routine test, my stomach would turn and i would panic. after the 2022 december tornado outbreak, i was watching the news and i heard about the damage caused. i thought 'what in the world could do something so devastating?' and i think it changed my life forever. i went from fearing them to ACTIVELY WANTING TO SEEK THEM OUT. and not only is everything about weather fucking awesome, i know how to keep myself and everyone i care about safe. i can tell my dad when to get ready to go to the shelter before the sirens go off. i can check the radar and tell my friends in other states how big the hail is gonna be before it even gets there.

and it.. really wasn't hard. even a basic sense of weather safety can help. knowing myths from facts helps EVEN MORE!

the earth is so beautiful, my friend. a tornado swirling around in a desolated field in kansas is something that even in video takes my breath away. when it rains, i run outside to see the rainbow that usually forms afterward.

but with this beauty comes a price.

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usermaha · 2 years

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omggg hi! 25 21 update pleaseee! fav characters, fav scenes and so on. rant your head off, please and thank you

finally someone asked me to talk about this show (i wouldve still talked about it but still thanks) im halfway thru Episode 5 btw.

Characters:

Na Heedo: remember how i said i want to protect her after reading your synopsis? the adoption papers are under process right now. she feels like a younger sister, so full of life, so full of hope, full of joy and bravery. she is so simple in her view in life, she has barely any forethought. she no has filter in her expression, and that makes her such a genuine and caring person. Her smiles the widest smile ive ever seen (im obsessed with her smile btw), then in the next scene her eyes are teary. she screams, she whines, she even throws her body around. bc she lives her life dramatically. and given the nature of the show i know she’ll grow up and time will take these things away from her. and i want to protect her from all of that. the faith that she has in herself. when no one believes that she has it in her, when she has no achievements to show for herself. She decides fencing is her destiny, she decides she’ll reach the top, and she makes it happen. For her, liking fencing, the excitement it makes her feel, is reason enough to stand against all the disbelief. I wish i had that too.

Baek Yijin: i intially thought he is the love interest former rich kid and i couldnt care less about him. Guess who was bawling her eyes out in Ep 2? I quickly realized that he is the one dealing with the actual adult repercussions of the IMF crisis. He used to be fun and popular, he had good grades, he wanted to go to NASA. but overnight he lost his dream, and most importantly, his family. watching him face humiliation after humiliation, worry over his brother, yearn for contact with his father, broke my heart. its easy to forget, he is just 22, too young to stand on his feet and face the creditors hounding at his door. He had his whole life ahead of him, and now all the good things in his life are gone. I remember the look in his face in the school flashback. I want that back for him. I want his happiness back.

Ko Yurim: i think the writers are showing her from a distant POV right now and will go in-depth with her character later. but yes i do have some resentment for her. I am genuinely confused as to why she cant stand Heedo. If its simply because she is worried that she’ll overtake her, im sorry but that’s not a good look. I understand the pressure she feels to follow up her gold medal, but unfortunately as of right now that doesnt balance it out for me.

Heedo’s Mom: i know she means well. but her view at her daughter is incomplete, she doesnt even know who she is, what she wants. and the parts she does see are always the ones she interprets negatively. she doesnt believe in her, and that ‘rejection’, you might say, hurts her deeply. That hits too close to home. Usually all that a kid want from parents is their support. They want them to accept them, for their achievements and their mistakes. And not getting that can haunt children forever. “That’s who you are to me. You’re someone i dont want to talk to” 💔

Coach Yang: she is so funny, and the accent, i keep trying to copy it lol. i initially thought that she’d be the tough love kind of coach, but i was surprised that from time to time she praised Heedo and made her aware of her little achievements and her strengths, and also valuable insight on the specific things she needs to work on. Like Heedo mentions in her monolouge, other than Yijin, she is the only one who has shown trust in her.

There hasnt been too much on Jiwoong and Seungwan’s characters yet so 🤷🏻‍♀️.

Jiwoong is a damn smooth flirter. he doesnt come off pushy, and his compliments feel genuine. Yurim seems to respond, the coast is clear given that she actually moves on from Yijin lol.

And Seungwan im really intrigued by bc she’s the top student and i immediately empathize lol. and another reason why i wanted to watch the show was that i saw a gifset of a scene between her and her mom. and i really need to get to the context of the scene.

So this was supposed to have a General Thoughts segment but this is already way too long so ill make the second post on my blog please check it out over there!!!

#25 21 #cindy 💜

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expfcultragreen · 1 year

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I had a dream last night where i was somewhere with lindsay lohan and a girl who reminded me of faith from buffy and they were teenagers and they did the classic mean girl move of inviting themselves over to steal from me, and i noticed 2 valentines themed limited edition lipsticks i had in the dream were missing, right as they were leaving, so i chased them out the door of my room and into a hotel/lodge sort of place. They had ditched their bags in another room with one of their dads and i was like "your kid and her friend stole from me so let me check their bags for my shit" and just started going thru the duffles with him standing there. He sat down and seemed kind of in shock and he was like 'what do i do about this...' as i finished going thru Lindsay's bag. I found my stuff in the other girl's bag, it had tissue wrapped around it and the lipsticks had turned into 5 or 6 joints in strawberry and raspberry juicy jay papers. I was like 'yes! My precious valentines joints!' and ran out of the room again. Then i was back in my old hs bedroom but the bed was huge and more than halfway up to the ceiling and had pillows and duvets everywhere. I was in the middle of it in a the-strawberry-dress style white gown with red hearts on it, and then dax flame showed up out of nowhere and was like "hello" and i was like "oh hi, come over here and get comfy" and we sort of started to cuddle, then he was like "wait a second," and climbed down off the bed, and then came back up into it wearing a dress like mine, and snuggled in near to me. I directed him briefly on getting positioned optimally so his head was on my chest and our arms were loosely around eachothers torsos, he took my suggestions without reservation. The vibe was wholesome and mildly erotic, like it was going somewhere.

He asked me something about what i do and then it was like, i had already sat up excitedly because we were upright and facing eachother; I had long turquoise hair and i was talking excitedly like i was on meth. I said "well ive spent most of the last 13 years on tumblr, you know--influencing the culture." Somehow it seemed like i had evoked a noncorporeal effigy of my impact and it was considerable. Dax's position relative to mine shifted 90 degrees, around the topic. Then i was like "right now im running a pretty popular heart themed blog..." and i felt sort of like, that sounds really silly probably, but i saw his face and he was staring at me intently, with guileless focus--very politely/kindly engaged--no negative judgement but seemingly no indepth private thoughts about it, like it would have been uninteresting except that it was just what he had wanted to know. Then he was gone, and i was looking at my heart blog on a computer with no monitor edges (under the bed? Near it?) and under one of my posts were a new couple reblogs from dax, the first of which was "an invite to the heart war," which was like the skeleton war, but internet-wide and heart-themed; it was the heartbombers vs the antihearts. Everyone on our side was making every part of the net they could, pink and red and heart shaped.

Then, completely apropos of the invite, i was standing outside a drag ball taking place in a school gym, and i was with my drag mother and i was in a heart themed outfit. My drag mother looked sort of like monet x change but distinctly had bob the drag queen's personality and voice, and she was urging me to take my musical cue from the track that was playing and run on stage (ie to the front of the crowd; everyone was just on the floor, perpendicular to the bleachers. There was a full drum kit and random electric instruments and like cords and mic stands and amps everywhere in the stage area). I was looking at my outfit in a mirror, it was a metallic red bodysuit with a red shoulderlength bob, my drag mother had a very similar look in different shades of red. My makeup was all red and on my 'eyelids' (the area under my natural eyebrows) there were pink and red 3d heart appliqués. I was like 'not enough actual hearts! i have more heart stuff in my room, this needs more!' And just as the track that was playing really loudly from the gym hit its spoken word intro--which is when i should have intro'd--i ran into my room around the corner to look for stuff for my outfit, like heart shaped sunglasses with like antlers made of hearts on the brows, and heart accessories. But i couldnt find the stuff i wanted immediately and was rummaging around going "cmon cmonnnn! Fuck!" for a few bars of music before finally giving up and running back out of the room into the foyer outside the gym door and then directly into the gym through the crowd, ending in a powerslide on one knee into the cleared space for performers. I made my very late entrance sort of scooting myself further with my hands, and when i skidded to a stop and pivoted to face the crowd just as the main lyrical part of the song started, i quickly started fake-out lipsyching and realized i didnt know the words, didnt recognize the song, and had already completely fucked up even faking it, AND in half a second i was going to have to hop up to my feet and start improving choreo, too. I woke up abruptly right then.

Later that night i dreamed i was trying to get simon to read a two page paper i had written for a class i was sitting in, there were desks and stuff and other students, the room was weird like an auditorium style lecture hall mixed with a masonic lodge or whatever. I was shouting in frustration, sounding strangled and hectic, and i kept losing the two papers in a pile of stuff around my feet, and the papers were getting more and more compressed into a fan shape from how i kept gripping them and waving them around together. The paper was important for the class but also i knew it was like, i had penned some kind of earthshattering poetic-prose metasocial treatise that was pivotally important to global art & philosophical history, on page two. Simon kept insisting that because i had loaded exposition into a line of dialogue midway down page 1 (the only exposition or dialogue on either page), it wasnt worth reading and martin would never have been so gauche as to write badly and then expect someone to read it. My dad was sitting with some people off to the side of the room and i could implicitly hear him thinking that if he hadnt understood where i was coming from he'd have been as dismissive and impatient as simon, listening to my raised voice and wracked tone, and he was feeling something akin to embarassment at me, like he was halfway inhabiting this parallel self who didnt see my pov and was ashamed i was his kid acting like that.

#dream journal #dax flame

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angeladdict · 4 years

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oh wow caught 1212 again

do u know what this means

#it means ive gone thru a door #thank god #finally #im out of this chapter

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big-tees-and-short-skirts · 3 years

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dear white people,

are yall okay? do you need me to come check on you??

#so ive been watching 'you NEED these products' comps bc i am mystified by what these wyt ppl think is necessary #'you NEED this window cleaning roomba' ??? why??#'i found these cute makeup organizers!! ha i know i sound sooooo ocd'#*presents a plastic box u can buy from the dollar store*#'guys i found this water boiler and it boils water in FIVE MINUTES for your tea and coffee!!'#girl...thats a kettle...a kettle..#hav-have you never gone to the appliance section b4???#its important to know these are all purchased thru amazon #like SPECIFICALLY #i get we are in a pandemic but have these ppl never seen anyone else live their lifes without a wifi connected door bell???#i know i know its frivilous and we all make our frivoulus purchases #but none of these are accessible #and expensive #and can EASILY be diy or done with ANYTHING else #im sorry im sorry im just #i dont wanna be mean but i think these ppl can handle it since theyve bullied me for not having stuff like this #sorry sooryy im done for today i promie

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yourbleedingh3art · 2 years

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tonight i just want to disappear. blip out of existence and not be seen or heard from again. leave my house in the middle of the night from the front door and just keep walking and not stopping, past all the things that are familiar until im somewhere unknown and unrecognizable and by myself. protected by hermitage. i want to keep things to myself. i only want to be looked at by strangers. i only want to talk to strangers. i want to be careless and unattached and worry about nothing, no one.

this would be nice for a week or a month probably not any more time than that, definitely not forever. but i want it so bad. a little vacation where im all by myself under the microscope of no one, truly free. i savor my time like that.

i keep worrying about stupid things ive already spent time worrying about before. chasing my own tail. big familiar circle.

i like my new hair. the blue. i've gotta adjust to seeing myself with it since it doesnt feel truly "me" yet, but i like it. i waver. i go back and forth. i definitely like it when i have makeup on. but im waiting for it to be comfortable 24/7, not just when im dolled up. its only the first few hours with it and i always struggle with change so im not surprised.

i am smoking in my garage. i've been doing this the past couple of nights, since it would cause too much trouble for me if i tried smoking in the house again. i dont mind going outside, though. it helps me break through the slump of spending all day in bed, burning thru my weed till its all gone and im a tired mush minded zombie.

i like elliott smith a lot. talking to mary is stuck in my head right now. i like that song so much. and pretty mary k. i like when he talks about marys. i think talking to mary is partially about me partially about mother mary partially about all the other obvious things its about that i cant name right now. and pretty mary k is about drugs or longing or being stuck wanting something and is also partially about me. i learned what solipsism meant the other day and now im scared im egocentric or an accidental solipsistic. if i sound like one i dont mean to be.

my pipe tastes very bad right now. i know it needs to be cleaned. luckily it's small so it wont be hard to do that. my spring break has been okay. it's had really good moments. it's just tough for me to be at home. it makes me think. it usually makes me ruminate.

i keep thinking, i hope it wasnt a mistake to change my hair. i dont know why i keep thinking that. i know i had planned this for a long time. i know i wanted this, anticipated this, and this looks exactly like what i wanted (well basically the roots could be fixed but mehhggghh it's really fine the color took quite well and it looks fine to the regular schmegular person in my opinion). but i keep worrying about it, i think it's anxiety related to other people, like what if they think, she was so much cuter with pink hair, that was her calling card, she was so dumb to dye it this ugly blue with those hideous roots. well then i would say. hey id been thinking about it a long time. and change is good. and if u dont like it dont look! shove it! when have i ever really cared about what other people think of what i look like. we all have our insecure moments but i dont let tht deter me ultimately from styling myself the way i want and im not gonna start. and i wasnt so anxious tht i didnt dye my hair bc here i am, decision made, not impulsively either, i bought the day and waited a full day and night of sleep to do it afterwards... so i guess i just needed to confront and acknowledge the little voice in the back of my head and reason it out in my virgo way

part of me is also scared the boy i love wont like it. and thats why i was upset when ii sent him a selfie and he did not compliment my hair! or just a general ur cute/sexy/hot comment. he didnt even heart the message. he was just like. oh i predicted u would dye it navy bc u said back in december u wanted to. wait is it purple or navy. and i could not even respond bc well its very obviously blue and i want to be told u think it's pretty!! also i felt silly because i sent him the picture and a lot of my torso was exposed in it maybe i looked, for lack of better words, like a tryhard slut, and i was like, no, of course u dont, hes gon a be like. ur so sexy. cuz u look good in tht pic! but then he didnt even say that. so i was like. oh... maybe he thinks i am... and. i was likle. ughghghghghghghghg why do i care what he thinks i hate caring! i hate caring what other people think!! bc then i cant just go about my day im like ooh what do they think...ok im getting too high to do anything but ramble now. to wrap this up i think i was just being silly because yes i wouldve appreciated the compliment but i already know i looked good in that picture so its not something to get butthurt about and ignoring him is fine if i want to do tht i can do whatever i want but make sure the ignorance is not just avoidance, make sure ur choices are conscious. bc i always want to avoid Issues bc. i am scared of change a lot and i feel like i have to be "strong enough to handle it" and i only feel strong and brave on certain days of the week.

so there is my friday march 18 12:18 am honestly blog post

#blog post #personal

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brelione · 4 years

Text

Road Trip (JJ Maybank X Reader)

so this was requested a while ago by @afterglows7b-tch13.I started it and its just been vibing in my google docs ever since so I decided to publish it.If you guys like it I might make a part two :)

All you wanted was to have a nice,relaxing sunday morning.But of course there was never a dull or relaxing moment in your life.You had been trying to have an aesthetically pleasing morning as you sipped your coffee by your window as the sunlight peaked through the blinds.But then JJ walked in.You could tell by the big grin on his face and the backpack hanging from his shoulders that he wanted to do something stupid.He frowned once he saw you enjoying your morning. “I wanted to wake you up.”He sounded disappointed as he placed his cheap speaker down on the counter.

You sighed,sipping your coffee. “What do you want,J?Its seven in the morning.”You grumbled.He giggled,jumping up and down. “Ok,ok,ok.So you know how you’ve always wanted to go to the White Mountains?”He asked.You shook your head. “No,I dont think i’ve ever said that.”You replied.He sighed,scratching the back of his head. “Ok,well I’ve always wanted to go and then I realized we have literally nothing to do ever so why dont we go to the mainland and take my cousin’s truck and drive to New Hampshire?”He explained his idea.You looked up at him.

“Baby,as much as id love to,we cant go to the White Mountains.”You watched as his smile faltered. “Why?”He asked,squatting on the ground in front of you.You ran your fingers through his hair. “How are we gonna get to the mainland?”You asked.He leaned his elbows on your knees,gazing up at you. “A ferry.”He answered.You looked around your messy kitchen. “Right now?”You asked.He hummed,arms going around your waist.You couldnt say no to him.

You huffed,slowly standing up.He stood up as well,looking at you and waiting for you to say something. “Okay.Alright.Let me shower and get my shit together.”You kissed him quickly before heading to your bathroom.He made it his job to go into your bedroom and into your dresser.He knew where you kept all of your things by now.He couldnt help staring at your bed and smirking at all the memories.He remembered all the way back to the first time he had fucked you on your bed.It had been after he had walked you home.

He remembered asking if your parents were home and you had simply laughed and reminded him that your parents were dead.He had been embarrassed of course but it didnt matter when his head was between your thighs and your fingers tugged at his hair.He heard your shower turn on,snapping him back into reality.He grabbed a few of your bras and panties before putting them at the bottom of your bag as neatly as possible.He grabbed eight of your crop tops,a few normal t shirts and a baggy long sleeve.

He went into your pants drawer to grab you a few pairs of shorts,a pair of jeans and socks.He forced the bag to zip shut,opening the next pocket.He thought about things you might need.He reached under your bed to grab you a handful of pads and tampons,pushing in a bottle of ibuprofen.He sat down on the bed,waiting for you to get out of the shower.He had told the others already that you two would be gone for a while and hadnt even bothered telling his dad.You walked into your room,your wet hair in a bun and a towel wrapped around your body.He watched as the towel dropped and you opened your dresser,eyebrows furrowing at your lack of clothes.

“I packed your bag,baby.”He grinned.You nodded,grabbing one of the two bras left.You settled on a sportsbra,pulling it over your head and down your chest. “Stop staring at my ass,J.”You grinned as you picked a pair of boyshort undies.He sighed,still looking. “Its right there though.”He frowned as you pulled the underwear up your legs.You smirked at him,straddling him on the bed and placing a kiss on his lips. “Do we have time?”You asked,kissing his neck gently.A shiver went up his spine,his hands going straight to your butt.

“Im sure if we’re fast enough….”He let out a small moan as you bit his tan skin.You smirked,kissing his lips. “You know,I just showered so probably not the best time.”You grinned before getting off of him and grabbing an oversized shirt.You slipped on a pair of joggers,tying the shirt into a knot at your waist.You looked like a hippie but you didnt care,you were comfy as hell.You grabbed the bag that JJ had packed,swinging it over your shoulder.

“bras,panties,socks,pants,bikinis,shorts,pajamas,pads,tampons,ibuprofen.Did I get everything?”He asked.You shrugged. “We’ll find out.”You smiled up at him.You two began the walk to the docks.He had left his packed duffel bag on your steps and had it swung over his shoulder,holding your hand as the two of you walked. “Ive got $400 to last us.”He informed you. “I’ve got my $100 for emergencies.”You kissed his cheek.

The ride on the ferry wasnt payed for,you two had just snuck on with the others.JJ’s cousin’s house was only a mile walk from the docks. “I cannot believe I agreed to this.”You giggled.He wrapped his arm around your waist,kissing your forehead. “Well believe it because its too late to turn back now.”He smiled.His cousins house was exactly how you imagined.

Small but much cleaner than anything in The Cut.He told you that he already knew you two were coming.You two went up to the door,JJ swung it open without even knocking and the fumes of weed immediately filled your senses. “HEY BITCH!”JJ shouted.Another voice shouted back before a tall boy with brown hair came into view,a blunt hanging from his mouth as he fist bumped JJ.

“Hey,hoe.”He nodded towards JJ,glancing over at you. “This is her?”The boy asked.JJ nodded. “Leo this is (Y/N),(Y/N),Leo.”He introduced you two.Leo laughed loudly,holding out his fist and looking you up and down. “You know,he told me you were hot but I didnt believe him!I mean seriously though,have you seen him?You’re like wayyy out of his league.”JJ smacked Leo’s arm jokingly.

You just grinned,hands in your pockets. “You and me though,we could work.You know where I am.”Leo winked.God,he was so much like JJ.He tossed JJ the keys to the truck that was parked outside along with a tin,waving bye to you guys.You two tossed your bags in the back seat,seeing the stacks of blankets and pillows ready for you two.You got into the passengers seat,JJ’s hand resting on your thigh after he began driving. “You hungry?”He asked,pulling up to a McDonalds drive thru.

You got icecream and fries as well as a burger,sitting in the parking lot to eat. “Hey,hey (Y/N).”JJ turned to look at you.You raised your eyebrows as you put a fry in your mouth. “Hey,hey JJ.”You mimicked,making him roll his eyes. “Are you stressed?About the car ride,I mean.”He sipped his cola.You shrugged. “I dont know,dude.The Mountains are far away I just like...dont want you to fall asleep driving.”You answered.He nodded,his hand squeezing your thigh reassuringly.

You went through Leo’s CD’s,pleased to find Panic At The Disco Too Weird To Live,Too rare to die.You played it,leaning back in your seat as JJ drove.The area was unfamiliar and he seemed to just be driving in whatever direction his heart was telling him to.You didnt care though,you just enjoyed having some time alone with him.You ended up stopping at a large gas station to get snacks.Oreos,a jar of nutella,brownies,chips,iced coffee,gum and energy drinks was what you ended up getting.

“This is fucking insane.I dont even know where we are right now.”JJ admitted,laughing.You took a sip of iced coffee with a smile on your face. “I’ve literally never left the island so like,you know,im lowkey freaking out.”You giggled.He nodded in agreement,looking at every house you passed by.There were large and small houses next to eachother,high end stores next to shitty looking bakeries.It was nothing like OBX. “Everywhere else has middle class families,cant relate.”He chuckled,pointing out to the medium sized houses with three cars in the driveway.

Thats the last thing you heard from him before you fell asleep.When you woke up it was dark out and the truck was coming to a stop. “Rise and shine,princess.”He smiled.You rested your head against your hand,looking at your surroundings.You were parked in a field surrounded by tall trees.The sky was full of stars,the moon a bright crescent. “Where are we?”You asked. “Somewhere in New Jersey,Diner Capital of the Country.Pretty cool,right?”He raised his eyebrows.You nodded tiredly,reaching for his arm.He intertwined his fingers with yours,lifting up your arm and kissing the back of your hand lightly.

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honeydots · 4 years

Note

127 with shuake would be good.

"My hands are not clean, and maybe they never will be, but they can still carry you home when you're ready to sleep."

once again. didnt forget abt these. im working thru em.

Summary: Goro wakes up one day in a hospital bed with only a bullet wound to keep him company, and not a single memory of who he used to be.

(ao3 link)

He was almost certain the last few weeks had been a dream.

Or maybe, several long and white coated dreams. The kinds with bright lights at an arm's length, and ill-fitting clothes, and men coming in waves carrying their clipboards as flags. With deep voices all at once whispering, echoing, “what is your name?”

Maybe he was in a hospital.

His first day of full consciousness was slow and lonely. His second day too, time spent wiggling his toes and counting ceiling spots. Day three he asked for a glass of water and scared a nurse out of her skin, and his week was kickstarted. Which only really meant an actual doctor came in and declared retrograde amnesia the only explanation for his condition.

His “condition” was quite the word to use. Which condition? They could play bingo. Was it his memory loss (obvious, weak narrative), or could it have been the state of comatose he’d been in (intriguing), or even the bullet wound (now here was a mystery, what a plotline) he’d heard remarkably little about? Amnesia, the fickle bastard, was the type to bring one answer to dinner, and disappear by morning.

But what did he know?

Well, he knew that this was a pretty shitty hospital. As far as how he assumed they should be managed, this one was on a low tier. And according to the nurse, as was their police station. Incompetent, and uncaring of his case, which had apparently been made.

It’d been a week now. He could get up. Limited, with his IV, but he could. The nurse said later that maybe the police would listen to him now, since he was conscious, basically up and kicking. ‘Listen to him now,’ was also an interesting phrase, because he hadn’t been speaking in the first place.

He wasn’t injured. His vitals were fine, the nurses had told him, and commented he was taking up an unnecessary bed. Not that he could actually make any kind of sound argument, which was frustrating enough on its own, but this didn’t seem like proper procedure.

He was, once again, very alone in his room. He thought about going to the police station. Incompetent as they may be, there would be no answers here. There was no one here to help him; some healthy boy in a hospital bed.

He got up. His IV was stuck in poorly, the tape just barely holding on. They’d disconnected him from all sorts of machines. Nothing was roping him down except for saline solution and his own two feet.

And, he was already standing.

It wasn’t hard to pull out.

His hospital gown was tied all the way down, falling just past his knees. He had odd socks on, their texture was weird, and they were several sizes too big. They were thick and patterned, maybe slip proof? But shoeless as he was, they would do.

The hallway was very empty. He was on the ground floor, but he wasn’t sure there were other stories. Maybe one, or a basement. It didn’t matter much. There just wasn’t anyone around. His concern was in that he didn’t know how long their absence would last.

There was a glass door at the end of the hallway.

To the police he’d go. A medical bill dodging amnesiac would probably get him some attention. Enough to get a name?

The door was not locked. That was probably good, for a hospital, and not a security breach, which is where his mind had initially gone.

Doors are meant to be opened, he thought. There really isn’t anything wrong with that.

It was just a little bright outside. The sun was up but not too far. He was in the parking lot, and it was almost entirely devoid of cars. Small, small hospital.

He didn’t exactly have a map, and no nurse was around to give him any condescending directions. He’d might as well go forward, then. He started walking, and thought to himself how odd his feet felt on the concrete.

No one was out. He hesitated to call it deserted, just maybe a bit early. He kept walking, nerves high, still worried he might get mauled by a stray doctor.

It seemed like this was a very small town, going by his surroundings. Lots of trees, and cracked roads, and old buildings. He didn’t think much of taking it all in. He’d have time for sightseeing when he remembered his initials.

A bit farther ahead was a woman, leaning on a car parked on the side of the road. She was glaring down at her phone. She looked— maybe irritated? Or tired. He wondered if he could ask her for directions. An aimless stroll through town wouldn’t take him to where he was going, after all.

“Excuse me,” he called, “Ma’am? Do you know the way to the police station?” He approached her with just enough caution to call it looking out for himself, ignoring the sorry state he was already in.

She glanced up from her phone. Her hair was short, and dark, and it bobbed around her face. She registered him for a moment, and her eyes went big.

“Holy shit.”

He knew enough to know that wasn’t the answer he was looking for. “I need to go to the police, please.”

The woman kept staring at him. “You—” she stuttered, “are you Goro Akechi? You are, aren’t you?”

This encounter was already going awry. Did she know him? “Do you know me?”

“Uh…I mean, no, we’ve never met.” She pushed herself off her car, and slowly put her phone back into her pocket.

That wasn’t really what he meant. He needed to persist, here. This could be a lucky hit. “No I— Do you know who I am?”

Blatant confusion spread across her face. “Uh… Are you not Goro Akechi?”

“I don’t know,” he answered.

She stared at him again, almost suspicious. Then she looked him up and down.

“Are you… coming from the hospital?”

“Yes.” He watched her mouth open just a bit in disbelief. He wondered how this woman knew him. If explaining would get more information out of her, then he’d do it. Privacy only existed when you had something to protect, after all. “I’ve been given an amnesiac diagnosis, you see. I’m going to the police station to see if I can find any sort of lead on myself.”

She looked shocked. “Amnesia? And you’re going to the cops?” She blinked, and suddenly looked very serious. She grabbed one of his shoulders. “Wait. That’s bad news. Don’t go to the police.”

He (Goro?) hadn’t expected to hear that.“What? And why shouldn’t I?”

“You… holy shit, kid, do you actually have amnesia?” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Listen you need to— oh good god, this is gonna sound like I’m trying to kidnap you— I definitely know who you are. I can tell you but we shouldn’t… here. If someone finds you… ” She exhaled hard, and looked him dead on. It made Goro freeze. “Fuck, okay. The gist of it is— you’re in more danger than you realize. Like, a lot more. Will you come talk with me in my car?”

Alright. So, a lot to process, and a lot he didn’t know how to. He didn’t even know if he should process it, or if that was the kind of story that should be immediately disregarded. Someone telling you to not go to the police and please get in their car seemed like a textbook stranger-danger red flag. There had been something uneasy about her tone, though. Like genuine concern— not that such a thing couldn’t be perfected and acted, however.

But she’d given him a name. And it felt almost tangible, the more he thought about it. Less bendable and more sturdy. It was very easy to attach to himself. And it was a lead, wasn’t it?

“Hey, did you get discharged, or are you just wandering around? Cause they’re gonna be looking for you if they didn’t let you out,” said the woman, jump starting Goro (almost certainly, Goro) out of his head. “And kid, I cannot just let you turn yourself in to the cops.”

‘Turn myself in,’ he thought to himself. Such particular wording. It made his stomach drop. This woman knew more than him, clearly. And really, for fucks sake, if he died, he died. Obviously he hadn’t left enough of a mark on anyone to warrant not a single visitor during a five year coma. According to the nurses, it was more evident that he’d simply been dumped in town— like someone had already been trying to get rid of him.

Well, whoever they were, they’d forgotten to bury his bones.

He straightened himself up. “Okay.”

She looked surprised, at first. She swallowed around it. “...Yep, okay then. Hop in before you change your mind.” She popped open her car door, and Goro circled around the side and followed suit.

Her car was messy. It was filled with food wrappers and empty bottles, but papers and notebooks were scattered around, too. So she kept busy, it seemed. He decided he’d consider this a point in the not-about-to-murder-you direction. Too much here that could be used as evidence against her. Too personalized. He was almost envious.

She adjusted her seat forwards and turned on the ignition. She was a bit jittery, Goro noticed, as she scratched the back of her head vigorously.

“So, I’m gonna drive us somewhere that isn’t here but I can talk and drive so, just— like, just a second, okay?”

He nodded. She drummed her fingers against the steering wheel. “...Goddamn,” she muttered, and then pressed down on the gas, turning her car onto the barren road.

She kept her eyes forward, but kept true to her promise of talking. She sighed. “Right. So, uh, to start… Okay, first, my name’s Ichiko Ohya, I’m a journalist. Get that cleared away. Next comes you which is a bit more complicated, but you probably wanna know why we’re dodging cops so I’ll start there. Or, as close to there as I can.”

He would take anything he could get from her, actually. The cops situation was undeniably concerning, but right now he was essentially a sentient empty shell, absorbing everything for the first time. A kid in a metaphorical candy store, but the store was a dodgy reporter who still might be kidnapping him and just stalling. He’d call himself the kid, but it dawned on him he didn’t even know how old he was. Fantastic. More things the hospital staff hadn’t bothered to tell him.

“Your name’s Goro Akechi. I told you that already but, that’s you. At least I’m like, ninety percent sure.” She spared him a glance. “You do look a bit different but all in all I’m— I’m pretty sure. Just the hair and the stubble, you know.”

Goro hadn’t exactly looked in a mirror recently, so no, he didn’t know. He knew he had long hair— certainly longer than Ohya’s. He rubbed his jaw and felt the rough and gritty bristles that had prickled onto him. It bothered him that he didn’t know. It bothered him that he didn’t know what he looked like.

Ohya continued, not letting him dwell for long. “You’re also sort of famous. Well, you were, and it was mainly with teenagers and moms in the city, but you were a popular detective. So, that’s how I know you. And I swear I’m getting to the running from cops part, but you have to know this first first. Oh, shit, it’s right here.” She took a sharp turn into a grocery store, and Goro had to grip the side to keep steady in his seat.

She didn’t act very sheepish about it. “Sorry, for that. We’re gonna talk in here.”

She paused her explanation to pull into a spot, which Goro felt a little thankful for because, under his circumstances, that felt like a lot of information to take in. He was well known, but not well known enough that anyone out here knew him. ‘Famous detective’ raised some weird alarms in his head, a position absurd enough that it might be true. It felt unfortunately right, like a disappointing truth. It was different from his name, more unwelcome. But it didn’t click either. Nothing had been clicking at all.

There was a pit growing in his stomach, like something was in there, chewing down on his insides. But he’d found he didn’t care for ignorance, so he would put up with it for as long as it took.

Ohya turned her car off, pushed her seat away from the wheel, and got herself comfortable. She faced him, nonchalant but sincere. “So this is where the really juicy stuff comes in, alright? So like, listen up now, if you weren’t.” There was something very serious about her eyes.

As if he’d have let any of her explanation slip under his radar. “I’m listening.”

That was a good enough answer for her, it seemed.

“I’m trying to think of the best way to explain this, honestly,” she started, thumbing the back of her hand. “You… okay, there was this guy. He was a really big politician that you were involved with, and it’s kind of a gray area as far as what you were doing for him, but you and him worked together. Kind of. He was a really shitty guy.”

She looked like she was considering her words. She turned her focus out the windshield for a moment, and sighed again. “He basically ended up confessing because this group— well, actually, they don’t matter right now. He confessed, and he talked about you. For some of it. It was a long fucking confession. But half of what he said wasn’t even coherent. He was talking about some crazy shit and no one knows what he meant by it. You were part of that whole section.” She paused again, thinking. Goro let the silence sit. He didn’t want to jump to a conclusion until he’d heard her out. Which was proving difficult, truthfully, because this all left a sour taste in his mouth, one that had almost certainly been there before.

“They wanted to take you in for questioning, but you disappeared. And, to add fuel to the fire, they were having a hard time getting any actual concrete evidence,” she began. “Can’t make an arrest based on a confession alone. He did other things, too, and that's what he ended up being indicted for, but there's still that problem. This whole chunk of confession is still there that technically lines up with his timeline of events, but there’s no way to prove it. That’s why they want you,” Ohya’s expression darkened. “At least, publicly, that’s why they want you.”

She readjusted in her seat again. She faced him fully. “This guy— Shido’s his name— he’s got goons. Not to mention, he had complete control over the police, and there are other higher up’s who worked with him. Some of those guys got busted with Shido’s confession, but there’s a few where there just isn’t enough evidence to put ‘em away. These are the ones who you need to watch out for.” She took a deep breath, not finished.

“I’m gonna be frank with you,” she continued. “They want you dead. They don’t want a single loose end, and you’re still dangling. The police are on their side. Are you understanding me?”

Goro tried to let the words sink in. That was more than a lot to think about. The creature in his stomach was grinning now, he could tell. But, this was also no time to get overwhelmed. If her words were true— which, the overwrought familiarity of her explanation compelled him to trust them— he needed to keep his head above the water.

“So these— subordinates. You’re saying they’re after my life? They can’t be actively hunting me down, if they have the influence you’re implying, or I’d have been found by now,” Goro said, deciding to ignore the fear creeping up his spine. “So then, what’s my public status? How unlikely was it that I was the egoless comatose patient they were searching for?”

“Uh…” said Ohya, seeming like she was the stunned one. “Well, you’re right, they don’t really have a manhunt right now. I guess I don’t need to worry about beating around the bush here— you’re presumed dead.”

Interesting. “That doesn’t surprise me,” he said, furrowing his brow. “But, obviously, a body was never found. They’re probably prioritizing morgues then, not hospitals. That does explain why I wasn’t discovered after all this time.” Though, if they’re smart, they’d also keep an eye on cases like his. They probably were, in fact. He’d gotten lucky that the police here were clueless.

Ohya gave him a very funny look. “You know, it’s almost creepy how well you’re taking this. You were in a coma this whole time?” She shook her head. “I’d have thought you’d be more out of it, honestly.”

“Is this not what you’d consider a wake-up call? I’ve been ‘out of it’ for a week. It’s common sense that I’d react like this,” he told her. Just going outside had cleared his head. He had a feeling hospitals had never been a fitting place for him. “Yes, I was in a coma,” he added, as an afterthought. “They said I’d been shot.”

Just as the words left his mouth, he realized the implications that had.

Ohya noticed just as fast. “You said shot?”

They’d certainly both had the same assumption— maybe an attempt had already been made after his life.

But there was something that felt wrong about that scenario, too. “I’m not… entirely sure it’s what you think it is,“ he replied. Maybe wrong wasn’t the correct word but, it wasn’t completely right either. “There’s no benefit to not making my body public. And, if they’re really after me, it seems messy, to say the least, that they didn’t finish the job properly.” He tried to speak confidently. The effort was familiar, too. Part of him wondered when he’d get the chance to do some self-analysis and tear himself apart.

Ohya caught on very quick, rolling with every punch Goro gave. “Christ, kid. What kind of shady shit were you into? So we’re thinking you’ve got another group after you?”

“I don’t know.”

He really didn’t. There were missing pieces, but that was evident. He had no end of missing pieces. If he was supposed to be some detective, then maybe he should get on with acting like it, and figure out whatever the hell this was.

Whatever business he’d wrapped himself into.

Ohya, again, spoke too quickly for Goro to finish digging through his own head.

“Maaan, I’ve really got myself into something haven’t I?” She rubbed her eyes, like she was already exhausted. “Look, I’m a busy woman. Don’t expect much out of me, but apparently I’ve got a bad habit of adopting puppies. So I’ll see if I can at least point you in the right direction, okay?”

He didn’t have much of another choice, other than to let himself be killed. He nodded again, not sure whether to call himself pleased or solemn.

She buzzed her lips and looked at him, obviously thinking. Then she opened her car door. “Well, okay. First things first, you gotta get some clothes, ‘cause you can’t go walking around like that. God, you don’t even have shoes…” She got out and stretched, and then turned back to him for one last comment. “Don’t expect much, okay? I’m not made of money. Don’t you dare go anywhere, either.”

She slammed the door shut and started walking into the store.

Goro was glad for the moment of peace. He let his jaw relax, closing his eyes. He hated how familiar the stress felt, and how desperate he was to welcome the feeling. A life or death promise was about as thrilling as one day should get.

Getting any memory back was his top priority. But he didn’t have an inkling of where to start. He didn’t have a phone, or a computer, and certainly not a home. He guessed he could use a public computer at a library, but just searching himself might raise more questions than answers. They’d be important questions, he was sure, but he wondered about the bias, the assumptions, the fact that it’d be an outside perspective looking in. He didn’t know how delicately he should go about regaining his memories.

Not to mention, he had only the word of a stranger and a low feeling in his stomach confirming he was even Goro Akechi. And now, with the reputation he’d had, if he even wanted to be him was questionable. Memories of such a life seemed… unpleasurable, at best, but he hadn’t set himself up to be able to just start over. Remembering his past was his best chance at plain old survival.

He wanted to have some kind of plan before Ohya came back, but he was drawing blanks. What he really needed was someone who knew him personally. Beyond media attention, if there was a single poor soul around who’d actually known him. He found himself doubting such an existence, past anyone who was out for his head.

He heard the car doors unlock, and he opened his eyes. Ohya was walking back with two bags, and she was on her phone again, barely looking where she was going. Well, there goes him having a plan. Bouncing ideas back and forth was the last thing he wanted to do. It was time wasted and he knew he would get frustrated, but his choices were limited. At least Ohya seemed pretty knowledgeable. It was possible she knew more than she was letting on, too.

She opened up the car door and tossed the bags onto his lap. “Hey,” she began, setting herself back into place, “I got your stuff but— I remembered something in there that might be a good starting place for you, if I can run that by ya.”

Or, of course, he could hear Ohya out and avoid idea bouncing all together. Something solid had come by much quicker than he thought.

*****

Ohya’s plan wasn’t bad at all.

She’d told him she had a contact from a few years ago, who was in charge of a bundle of self storage units. Apparently a certain “Goro Akechi” had registered himself one a couple months or so after Goro’s public disappearance. They’d told her once they noticed the name, but Ohya hadn’t taken up the lead at the time. When Goro asked why they’d even told her that, she left it at “no reason important,” and kept the topic adamantly off the table. Goro would push the envelope if it weren’t for the fact that his life (a life he didn’t even know he had, for the record, and one that still bothered him) was on the line.

If this unit did belong to him, there could be a very solid lead on himself in there, and leads on his acquaintances, too. Ohya didn’t know if the garage still existed, though. So she said she’d give them a call and see if they could figure something out.

Which is what led to Goro sitting in a barber’s chair. After he’d gotten dressed (an ensemble of sweats, a sweatshirt, and tennis shoes) Ohya had commented that he looked like he belonged in a homeless shelter, and “really needed a haircut.”

She said something about how he’d always kept himself looking clean, and Goro believed it. He was already feeling discomfited the way he was. So unkempt and basically filthy. So, she decided that while she was getting her contact all in order, she’d pay for him getting a trim and a shave.

She was helping him more than he’d expected her to, in ways he didn’t really expect. But he’d take what he could get. He’d hardly had a reason to say no.

He sat waiting in front of a mirror. He hadn’t gotten a good look at himself until now, but god, she was right, he looked pretty fucking bad.

The first thought that came to him was sickly. Eyes sunken in, deep bags under his eyes. You wouldn’t expect him to have just been in a permanent state of slumber for the past five years. Or maybe the correct assumption would be, a coma hadn’t been enough sleep for him.

His hair was just below his shoulders, and he had a very pitiful looking beard. He didn’t recognize himself. He didn’t think that would change much after his haircut, but it made him itch. It was a face that didn’t feel like his. He wanted to rip it off and replace it with a new one, one he knew better.

Maybe he’d never liked looking at his reflection.

Ohya had spoken to the barber for him. The one he got either wasn’t the talkative type, or really got his vibe of not wanting to speak to anyone. She went to work in silence, washing his hair with fruity shampoo and dressing him in a long black apron. That was all fine, albeit uncomfortable, but once she started cutting, Goro found he couldn't watch. The snips were loud, and definite, and it left his chest feeling tight. He couldn’t do anything but let his thoughts run blank.

He wondered if that was hair he’d had before his incident, now falling away. He’d have the same eyes, and organs, and teeth, too. But he felt all wrong in this body. Like it had gone on without him.

He was thankful when she moved to his beard. Just for a moment, though, because having someone so close to his face made him want to retreat as far back into himself as possible. A blade so close to his throat. He wondered how hard of a push it would take to make a cut. He wondered how deeply he’d have to go to make it bleed.

Maybe he’d always hated barbers, too.

When she’d announced she was finished, and Goro forced himself to look back in the mirror, it actually took him aback. It had taken years off him. She’d styled his bangs, and left no hair on his chin, but most importantly, it was clean. Soft looking. Pleasant.

It was almost enough to distract him from the discolored scar plastered on his forehead.

He stared for probably too long. His disheveled bangs had kept it clearly out of view on his first glance, but now that he was fresh and groomed, it pushed its way into the limelight. It was reddish, and almost shiny, and painstakingly circular.

He could feel dread bubbling up. He tore himself away from the mirror, and found an instant sense of relief when he wasn’t staring anymore.

Reflections and barbers. More to read into later, he supposed. He was learning he had been quite the hassle. What an annoyance.

Ohya met him at the entrance. Pure amusement was all over her face. “Shorter than I expected, but you’re looking pretty smart like that.” Her eyes went to his scar, but she made no comment on it. She frowned, but that was all.

Goro didn’t mind her reluctance on the topic. He raised his eyebrows, and spoke with the silent mutual understanding of “that is one gnarly goddamn scar” between them. “Ah, and I’m sure the sweatpants add to the look.”

“Watch it,” she snapped back, sliding into her usual demeanor. “Not like I could get you Levi’s, kid.”

She paid for his haircut, and out of the shop they went. They walked to the car in anticipating silence. She had her phone out again, texting someone now. Goro didn’t want to get his hopes up. Texting could mean anything, or nothing, or half of one or the other.

She pushed her seat back getting into the car, and pulled one leg up with her. Goro waited for her to speak, keeping himself tense. He really wouldn’t be able to loosen up if he tried, like a wound up doll who’d gotten stuck.

Ohya broke the quiet. “It’s still there.”

Goro sucked in, but didn’t let himself relax. Nothing ended there. It was one check off a list, but not all of them.

“And can we go in?”

Ohya blew air out of her mouth. “Well, she said she wants to make sure it's you, because there's only so many privacy laws she wants to break.” She shrugged at him. “But honestly, looking at you now, there's not a doubt in my mind you’re Goro Akechi. So, you can chill about it.”

He leaned back into his seat. The tensity had not left him. Something was making him lucky today, and he hated it. He would feel much more comfortable in the mitts of misfortune. But he couldn’t help feeling giddy, too. Like something was rubbing circles into his back, easing, but not erasing, bits and pieces of his concerns. It was something to focus on, and a goal to achieve. Above all, that relief made him feel pathetic.

“I was gonna ask if you wanted to go today or not, but you look more thrilled than I think I’ve ever seen you, so I’m just gonna take that as a yes.”

He hated the way she worded that. He frowned. “Only if you’re as concerned about my identity as you seemed to be earlier. You’re welcome to take your time, I’m surely not going anywhere.”

“You’re snarky! I never realized you had an attitude,” Ohya laughed.

She got the car going, and they were on their way to the unit. Apparently it was quite a ways, and Ohya advised him he’d better buckle in for a long one.

He could feel his eyelids getting heavy. He had things he wanted to think about, and questions he wanted to ask. Working up a tolerance to being active was not something that could be done in a day, but fuck if he wouldn’t try anyway.

But, despite how he tried to fight it, Goro fell asleep.

*****

He woke up when they were about ten minutes from the units. Ohya commented she’d thought it was a little funny that he’d been so exhausted doing just about nothing all day, but admitted too that his body was probably pretty weak, and he really should take it easy. As easy as he could, at least.

They were both quiet for the remainder of the drive. The sun was getting low now. They were passing by suburbs between grassy fields, driving past exit by exit. He had no idea how long they’d been going for. Ohya had called herself busy, and Goro believed it, so her continual help felt unusual. People weren’t just like this, he was almost sure.

She also knew things that felt… almost inappropriately relevant to him. The topic of the unit still tingled in the back of his mind. Why had they called her about his storage? And for that matter, why had she even known so much about him? The information she had felt intimate— like the results of a deep investigation. Had this all been yielded from that politician?

But Ohya had a distinct air of privacy. There could’ve been something personal about her aid, but Goro figured that she wouldn’t crack easily. It might be better to leave it— personal matters tended to yield lasting effects, after all. At least, he assumed so. He really wasn’t sure if that was as big of a plus as it appeared on the surface, though.

When the centre came into view, Goro let those thoughts ease into the back of his mind. He could focus on Ohya’s MO later. This was leaps and bounds more important to him; if anything was going to last, it was this. He could play detective, just like he was supposed to, and maybe come across some special clue. Perhaps he could test out his muscle memory and flex whatever skills he presumed he’d had.

They arrived, and it looked extremely closed. Like the only customers they’d been expecting were ghosts. The lights in the windows were off, and the gate guarding the units was shut tight. It wasn’t encouraging.

Ohya read his expression pretty clearly. She bumped his shoulder with her fist. “She knows we’re coming, my contact’s still here. The front just closes at 6:00. I’ll deal with it, so just stay put for now.”

And just as she said, after she hopped out of her car and approached the office, the door swiftly opened and a woman joined Ohya outside. The two of them seemed friendly. Goro watched as they talked, noting quizzically to himself that Ohya was someone who talked with her hands.

Ohya gestured to her car and they both looked over to Goro. He watched them walk over, and obeyed smartly when Ohya signaled him to roll down his window.

The woman peeked her head around to look at him, her eyebrows arched high. “Wow,” she said, completely staring now. “I mean, he looks like him, that’s for sure.”

Ohya grinned. “Sure does. That enough for you to let us in?” She didn’t really say it as a request, more like an expectation. Goro appreciated the tone.

She fiddled with her bottom lip. “Hmm. You said amnesia? He got any doctor's notes about that?” She asked, giving cue to Ohya’s sour expression.

“You didn’t say a word about notes

on the phone, you know.”

The contact clicked her tongue, and looked back to Goro. She bit the inside of her cheek, and sighed. “Just cause it’s you, Ohya, I’ll take that nasty scar on his forehead as my confirmation.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “Come with me inside, I’ll get his key.”

Ohya made a haughty noise of achievement, and followed the woman back in. Goro rolled up the window again.

They were taking a little while. He rubbed at his scar absentmindedly. So obviously a bullet wound, maybe that had been the real reason his barber hadn’t made much conversation. Whoever tried to kill him had shot just where it counted. You don’t fire a warning shot into a head. He wondered if he’d deserved it, and doubted he didn’t.

Goro removed his hand when Ohya reemerged from the building, and she was looking confident. She slid back into her car and jingled the key to his unit victoriously. “Easy peasy. She’s gonna open the gate for us in a second. Your unit number is 508.”

They waited for a little while, nerves ever growing, until the automatic gates opened on their own, groaning and creaking until fully extended. Ohya started her car and drove in, squinting at the unit numbers in the low light.

Rows upon rows of garages awaited them. This must’ve been a pretty large lot, by the looks of things. The dirt road was the only uneven piece of scenery, the repetition was endless. He kept a watchful eye on the unit numbers, as well, skipping between the evens and the odds.

After a few right turns, and one very tight u-turn, they were there. 508 stood wedged between its neighbors, almost at the end of the row, but not quite. Not a thing stood out about it. It was just as gray and worn and untouched as the rest of the facility. Not even the dirt was remarkable. It reminded him of the hospital.

Ohya held the key out to Goro.

“I’m assuming you want this to be a ‘just you’ kinda thing?”

The gesture was something he should’ve expected, but didn’t. It made him hesitate for a moment.

He took the key. “I appreciate it,” he said.

“No sweat.”

He got out of her car, and she drove off to the end of the row. She stayed parked within general sight of the unit. It was essentially pseudo privacy, but neither of them knew how long he’d be in there, and who knows what this could trigger. Ohya also didn’t seem like she knew a thing about amnesia. He wouldn’t look to her for comfort of any sort, but there was reassurance in her being a safe figure.

He took a deep breath. In through the nose, out through the mouth. This was his step one. He’d gotten himself into some deep shit, his past self hadn’t seemed to have a shred of self preservation in mind. Had he not encountered Ohya, he could’ve been dead by the hands of the crooks that call themselves the police by now. He had a lot more steps to cover, and each one would be riskier than the next. He was much more on his own than he realistically should’ve been. Most people had friends, as far as he knew. But this was seemingly his own fault. He wanted to know why exactly it was his fault.

One more deep breath.

He inserted the key into the lock, and grabbed the handle of the metal shutter. He pushed up, and with a squeak of rust and a bang of metal, he opened up his door to more dangerous times.

And it was nearly empty.

It was barren concrete. Newly disturbed dust was floating about. It was eerily quiet, and the stale air made his throat itch. Cobwebs stuck in the corners, barely visible in the low light of the setting sun. Though he wouldn’t call it underwhelming.

In the center of the floor was a cardboard box. About medium sized, without a lid. It matched well with the rest of the room, lined with dust and unaltered. He kneeled in front of it.

It was its contents that felt much more exciting. There were papers, lots of them. Thick manila envelopes full of information for him to flip through. He scooted back towards the entrance and pulled the box along with, trying to get the last of the light funneling in to help him read.

It was heavier than he expected, and he didn’t know how much to attribute that to his current lack of strength. He took out the first envelope and it, despite the dust, was clear and candid. When he flipped it around, he noticed with eagerness that there was writing on the front. He tried to make it out as clearly as he could, and in careful handwriting, it read: “05/21/2020— Case No. 1471”

It was a case file. He pulled out another envelope, and it was similarly marked. His interest was surely piqued. There must’ve been some sort of relevance to these, if they were going to be so pointedly left here. He pulled out a third, and then a fourth, and from the weight he’d expected many more. But, the pile ended there. Instead, what filled the rest of the box was another, smaller, wooden one.

He took it out delicately, gripping it securely around the sides to ensure he didn’t drop it. This seemed much more… personal. Shiny cherry wood, latched but not locked, just small enough to sit on his lap firmly. A thought that couldn’t help but be excited came to mind.

This could’ve belonged to me.

He wasted no time. He undid the latch, and it gave a satisfying click. The hinges creaked just barely as his clammy hands lifted the lid, and pulled all the way back, until it rested hanging by itself.

Inside sat more papers. Some were crisper than others, some had obviously been crumpled and then flattened out again. But there was consistency in each of them being folded neatly in half, stacked neatly on top of each other.

He picked up the one from the beginning of the pile, unfolded it, and was surprised to find it had hardly been written on; a simple “To you,” at the top. This was a candidate that had been clearly wadded up and discarded. He set it down carefully, and picked up the next.

This one hadn’t been written on much, either. It said even less, just “Hello.”

He picked up another, and another. It was all soft stationary, each topped with slightly different wordings, and some decorated with a couple lines, even. But they were all just about the same, a simple greeting, and then resigning.

They were letters. Or rather— drafts for one. So he’d learned today that he was indecisive, maybe a bit quick tempered, but potentially also at least organized. He assumed the existence of these drafts meant he’d never gotten around to sending his letter, either. And perhaps he’d never get such a chance, if this visit didn’t convince any muggy memories to creep out of their caves.

As he pulled out drafts and read his pathetic one-liners, he came across a page that was different. There was actually a fair amount of content on it, over a paragraph's worth. It had obviously also been cast aside, but even a spare scrap could be useful to him, in this state. He used the last of the remaining light to read it.

“To whom it may concern,

I would like to skip the inherent shamefulness of writing a letter to you, of all things, in my introduction, and I will title this ambiguously under the assumption that if you believe this does truly not concern you, that you will save me the mortification of reading through it anyways.

I won’t formally phrase this as a farewell, but you should take it as one.

Our unknowns are too great to write, and while you were not innocent, neither am I, and there are truths between the two of us that shouldn’t have remained unspoken. I’ve never thought to run from the blame.

My hands are not clean, and maybe they never will be, but they can still carry you home when you’re ready to sleep.

Perhaps a fact I recognized too late.

I do not want to say goodbye, however I—“

It cut off.

The letter left a lump in Goro’s throat. He read it through once more. He wanted to analyze each sentence down to its core, but the light had died out. But there were bits and pieces, words that suck out in his mind. “Farewell,” “Innocent,” “Unspoken.”

“Too late.”

Goro bit down on his lip hard. The case files— those he understood. With the life he’d allegedly lived and the people he’d known, of course something like that would be predominant. They were fact on paper, ignorant of bias, they’d be full of names and leads. They were important. But, he didn’t understand why these almost-letters had been left here. Out of anything that could’ve been kept. Had there been someone he’d felt so strongly for? To be kept in safety behind lock and key?

To identify this person— that could be his next goal to achieving his memories. To ignite the fire of their eventual reunion, and perhaps they could know what happened to him. They could come easy, though he suspected that anyone who he’d decided to be so rottenly open with wouldn’t be typical. But, they would also know him, past the media, past the appearances.

And, though he wasn’t going to admit it, he’d needed something more hopeful to work towards.

He put the papers back where they belonged, placed the entire case back into the cardboard box, and stacked the case files back atop it.

There was no telling how old these letters were. They could’ve been from much before his incident. But this set him up for a goal, a big one, that might get him back to whatever meager place he’d left himself in.

He picked up the box, and prepared himself to head back outside to Ohya. He needed to muster up his resolve, because this was only the first out of two very important clues this visit could provide.

He positioned the box onto his waist, and took one last look into the dark before closing up his unit. He returned to Ohya’s car, pulling open the door without so much as a greeting, and set the box on the floor in front of his seat.

Ohya leaned forward, interested. “That a box you got?”

He wasn’t going to talk about the embarrassing letters he found. Even if he wanted to, his second clue came first. “It’s not that important right now,” he lied. “Is your contact still here?”

She raised her eyebrows at him, but let the topic drop. “Sure is. She can’t leave ‘till we leave.”

Good. “I need to speak with her.”

She hummed in reply, seeming very curious by his idea. They drove back up to the entrance, Ohya not questioning his motives, but still giving him an inquiring side eye every so often.

They got out of the car together this time, and walked into the front office. The woman was reading behind the counter, almost completely in the dark, with only a desk lamp lighting her work area.

She glanced up at them, and placed her book upside down. “Hey there. You got that key?”

“Yes,” Goro replied. He placed it lightly on the counter. She took it without a word, and got up to put it back on its hook. Goro stopped her before she turned. “I have a question for you.”

She seemed a little surprised. She glanced between him and Ohya, and then put her free hand on her hip. “Okay?”

He hoped he could push his luck just a bit further today. He’d made it this far, after all.

“Is there any way I can see the documentation that was filed when this unit was made?” he asked.

The woman pursed her lips. “Ohya?”

Ohya put her hands up defensively. “Don’t look at me. This is all him.”

The woman stared at Goro. He stared back. This was arguably the most important part of the visit. He needed to see those papers. Just a single particular part, it was the one factor that needed an explanation. He would not leave until he got that documentation, and if he had to stand his ground and pull her leg a bit to get it, he would.

After their staring contest lasted just a moment too long, she folded her arms. “Jeez. Only because I feel bad for you, okay?” she huffed, turning on her heel. “And because my niece liked your food blog.”

She disappeared into the back of the office, leaving Goro feeling just a bit full of himself. He would think about the food blog comment later.

Ohya lightly punched his arm. “Okay, good going. But whatcha going to do with that?”

“There’s something I need to check,” he replied flatly. It made Ohya grunt unenthusiastically.

The woman returned with a few papers, all paper clipped together. She tossed them onto the counter. “This is a customer copy, okay? So feel free to keep it.” She glared at Ohya. “And, I’m going home now. So, get out, please.”

That got a laugh out of Ohya. “I know I can always count on you to bend a couple of rules for me.”

“Out.”

They left the building, Ohya waving her last goodbyes while Goro rushed to the car. He needed to get some light on these papers, it was long past sundown now. He slid himself into the car, clicked on one of the lights, and went to work reading, all while Ohya was still walking over.

Ohya opened her door and stood outside watching him, leaning on the frame. First, it was with interest, but it soon turned into irritation.

“Kid, tell me what you’re looking for. You’ve got your eyeballs all over that thing,” she said.

He didn’t let their conversation stop him from reading. He kept his eyes glued to the page, checking each word and box before moving on.

He did owe her an explanation. Getting his thoughts out would help him focus a bit, anyway.

“These sorts of things— storage units. Wouldn't they be paid for recurrently?”

Ohya went quiet for a moment. “They are,” she said, and joined him in the car. “Shit. Those funds can’t be coming from you, can they.”

“Exactly. I’m looking for the responsible billing party.” He turned onto the next page. None of the handwriting matched what he’d seen on his papers and files, which further confirmed to him that this unit hadn’t been one he’d purchased himself. Whoever this was had put all that information in there, those cases, those letters. He suspected they weren’t his mystery recipient, but he could confirm that with them once they’d met.

Why this had been done in his name, though, was beyond him.

He flipped onto the last page, and found his prize. Big black bolded letters asking for the responsible parties name, and neat penmanship filling in the blank.

“Sae Niijima,” he read aloud.

Ohya gawked.

“‘Sae Niijima?’ Seriously?” she scoffed to herself, and sunk down further in her seat. “She’s an attorney. A damn good one, too.”

An attorney? He wondered how she could’ve known him. “She’s the one paying, apparently.”

Ohya tapped long slender fingers onto her steering wheel again. She dropped her head. “Guess that means she’s our next lead, huh?”

Goro adjusted himself in his seat. “It does.”

“Ahh, man,” she complained. “You’re really somebody who’s in with the big guns, you know. You better let me have some exclusive with you after all this is done, or something.”

Goro gave way a hint of a smile. Probably his first since he’d woken up. If this would be the last of his luck, so be it. He hated to rely on something so shifty and mischievous, anyways. This was a start, barely a sprout, to whatever his big picture was. But he’d see himself to the very top.

Really, he’d already died once. Hardly a way to go but up.

“We’ll see.”

#thank u for the aaaask!!!#this is shuake but akira is actually not in it at all whatsoever #also im so sorry i know the ending is. unsatisfying.#i just realized if i wanted the most satisfying ending possible this would go from 8k to like 32k at least #maybe once i post all these prompts on ao3 ill consider adding chapters to this cause i do like the premise #this is also like. my first published non comedic piece. so a lot of this is experimental for myself #anyway i hope you enjoy!!!#my fics #ask #anonymous #my p5 fics

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patheticfrogarchive · 3 years

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i hate my job so much like i hate it SO much im in the target pets department and like, idk if any of yall have worked for target (dont) but im the Dedicated Business Owner (TM) which basically just means im responsible for stocking the area and shit. ANYWAY i am STRUGGLING every single day to do all my work and i never get it all done anyway like i am running my ass all over the store trying to do the 600 tasks they throw at me every minute and like theres SO much shit like theres too much theres litearlly no enough room for it all. like i am quite literally out of backroom stocking space and you wanna know what they tell me when i say “uhh im outta room what do i do” they just go “oh wow. we’ll worry about that later” LIKE HELLO??? ARE YOU FUCKING ME???? ARE YOU EATING MY ASS RN??????????? I HAVE 1000+POUNDS OF DOG FOOD IN THE WAY AND UR TELLING ME TO DEAL WITH IT LATER??? YOUVE BEEN TELLING ME THAT FOR 2 MONTHS NOW????

not to MENTION the fact that im not very physically strong and they expect me to be moving LITERAL thousands of pounds of cat litter all over the place BY MYSELF in less than an hour and when i say “um im struggling to do this, any chance I could get some help? or do you have any advice?” THEY LOOK AT ME LIKE IM THE INSANE ONE!!!! AND THEN DONT GIVE ME HELP OR ADVICE!!!

dont even get me STARTED on the shitty fucking HR department. this bitch never answers her goddamn emails and has no joke been on vacation 3 times in the past 4 weeks like BITCH WHAT ARE YOU DOING!!!!!! NOT UR JOB THATS FOR SURE!!!

like i was literally wheezing my way thru work today running all over the place VERY CLEARLY struggling to do all this work and having a hard time lifting 50 pounds above my head on my own and one of my team leaders walked by, just kinda looked at me struggling and went “huh. tough day huh :/” and i was like “YEAH. ANY UPDATE ON THAT SECOND EMPLOYEE I WAS PROMISED???” and he just went “uhhh yeah next week” even tho i was promised some help ALREADY A WEEK AGO

like its gotten to the point where im honestly hoping that im falling behind enough that theyre gonna fire me. like yes i like money but god i hate it there so much.

ALSO the fact that ive only worked there 8 months and ive already gone thru at least 3 different managers. hell store. i hope it explodes. everyone there is so fucking stupid oh my god

and then this one fucking bitch beatrice talks down to me SO much i hate it i wanna beat her stupid face in. you know when like, people will talk to you in That way like, when you have obvious social problems and theyll talk to you like youre some kind of freak, like ttheyre very condescending. yeah she talks to me like that ALL the time and it pisses me off and i hate her so goddamn much and fucking mark doesnt wear his goddamn mask and looks at me like im crazy and almost every single person who works there is so fucking stupid they just throw trash all over the place and GOD. its literally one big huge mess i fucking hate it im literally so angry all the time. the other day some fuckhead ran into my cart, knocked everything over, looked at it went “oh. my bad” AND THEN JUST FUCKING WALKED OFF???? THIS ONE BITCH KEEPS SLAMMING DOORS IN MY FACE??????? MY GODDAMN TEAM LEADERS NEVER FUCKING ANSWER THE WALKIE TALKIE WHEN I CALL THEM WHEN I NEED THEM, BUT GET UP MY ASS WHEN I DONT ANSWER IMMEDIATELY????

THEY HAVE THE BALLS TO SIT THERE ADN TELL ME “WE DONT WANT U TO FEEL OVERWHELMED :(” BUT DONT ACTUALLY DO ANYTHING TO HELP ME!!!!!!! i honestly want the store to burn down like please please please manifesting very evil energies towards my target rn please please die die die

#debbie and trevor exempt those two are the only ones i trust #GOD i hate it so much i literally wanna get fired #like im not gonna go out of my WAY to get fired but if they fire me. i will party ngl #personal #anyway if you read this im sorry but i just have a lot of rage inside of me

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fart-gate · 4 years

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SG1

Season 2 episode 11

"THE TOKRA"

Notes by me

- part 1

- PREVIOUSLY - Sam swallowed a goauld and it told her there are nice worms out there, and then it died to save her (rip to a real one), Jacob Blunt As Fuck Carter told Sam he had cancer and now hes like.....dying

- anyway

- LMAO random character generator spat out chris argent from teen wolf

- did she have a memory of the tokra? That lady looked just like her tho

- not me dancing to the theme

- jack: how do u know the tokra are nice

Sam: my ✨feelings✨

- lol thats enough for Jack I guess

- is her dad's cancer worse

- "this is the first time ive gone on a mission where I feel like im leaving something behind" 😞

- Sam thinking her dad doesnt want her around and hammond assuring her shes wrong I'm WEEPING

- "youre more like your father than youd like to admit" if someone told me this my face would retract like I just ate a lemon

- I swear to god im gonna start counting all the wizard of oz references that Jack makes so far its been 853 per episode

- are the tokra gonna be mean to tealc when they find them

- wait its chris argent dont shoot

- see I was right! Leave tealc alone 2k20

- "we are not goauld" ???? But you are?? Unless the name "goauld" isnt a species name but a certain group name? And the tokra are just a different group? But then whats their species called

- ah shit is sams dad gonna die while shes gone I dont think I can handle that

- Martouf haha u got a dumb name

- alright martouf didnt have to flex his pretty eyes at me but he sure as hell did

- 3 against 1 Jack looks like your giving up your guns

- he does NOT trust them

- "my memories of martouf are the strongest. Its like I have some weird bond with him" OH????? MY RELATIONSHIP RADAR IS PINGING

- "some little runt" best name for cancer ive heard so far

- is this all a ruse to find out what Sam does for a living!!! ......although I could be wrong since I dont know anyway to fake liver cancer

- the leader of the tokra is the most hunted goauld of all time BRUH

- tokra means against Ra? I thought it meant resistance or something

- Martouf.....i will admit. attractive. I take back what I said about having a dumb name I'm not who I was 3 minutes ago

- I thought for a sec that the male host for jolinar was who martouf was concerned for when he heard the "host died" but then I remembered that jolinar had a female host first. I had a fleeting moment of gay Chris Argent :\

- oh shit Jacob is literally like RIGHT at deaths door

- no glasses! Daniel in this scene

- a symbiotic relationship!! Thats really cool actually

- Daniel respectfully taking his hat off for the dying tokra is cute and all but......monkey brain see it hang off his neck like choker necklace

- "we dont use the sarcophagus. We believe it drains the good from our hearts"

"I can vouch for that"

- alright dudes that was not a very subtle way to ask if they want to have a little worm friend in their heads

- ah of course they dont think earth is advanced enough to have an alliance with. Hows the air from up on your fuckin high horse

- martouf: would you like to accompany me on an evening stroll, Sam?

Jack:

- "I want her back by 11 o clock" I thought we were done with this shit. Shes literally an high ranking air force officer. Pls treat her like an adult @writers

- THE TOKRA DONT HAVE A GENDER❤❤ this is actually really cool for a show from 1997

- martouf is bi I dont make the rules

- lantash taking over bc martouf too sad to keep talking 😩😩❤❤❤ I love them

- Sam being surprised that jolinar and martouf were lovers in the night. Like honey.....it was kinda obvious

- martouf describing Rosha 😭😭❤❤

- I cant imagine having memories of someone elses life. Sam is going thru some shit

- I love martouf with all my heart

- JOLINARS LOVE FOR MARTOUF WAS SO STRONG IT LEFT AN IMPRINT ON SAMS MIND

- martouf🤝Sam

- interrupting!Daniel strikes again

- AWKWARD

- Jack sneak 100. Is he gonna use the bathroom excuse again

- "no need for doors or partitions" didnt martouf just say he and jolinar were mates. How do u do the hokie pokie with no doors. What if someone walks in and ur ass out with your worm boyfriend in a cave

- Daniel rubbing his hands on everything. Im surprised he didnt lick the table

- tokra: the goauld hate us

jack: well its not a competition but they hate us more

- whats up sg3!

- hammond knowing Sam would want to be with her dad when he dies :'(

- ALRIGHT the tokra are huge assholes!! Wont even let her see her dad while hes literally dying!! I hate them all except for martouf. I just think hes neat

- to be continued -

Sam carter whump: emotional

No glasses!Daniel for a few minutes

🎶listening to Such A Simple Thing by Ray LaMontagne 🎶 for martouf and sams little stroll on the dune

#stargate season 2 #no glasses!daniel #sam whump season 2

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merkerlerspeaks · 5 years

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My thoughts during Backwarder *Spoiler Warning*

- Oooh, interesting intro. That’s Master Fu! Aw, he had a sweetheart.

- Who was looking so desperately for the Miraculous box way back then? Are we going to see more about that?

- Adrien and Kagami were at the royal wedding???? Like, THE royal wedding? I should have followed that closer...

- “You mean like the time he lost his keys and locked himself out of the house” seriously I love Master Fu, that’s amazing.

- wHy ARe yoU SAyInG WhAt yOu’Re WRitING ouTLouD

- Props to the dude that stood up for Marinette though

- “My time has come” seriously Hon, you’re such a drama queen.

- But he seriously sent for Marinette to deliver a love letter because he was c o n s t i p a t e d. I mean it happens to the best of us but smh. Eat veggies ya old fart.

- Marinette, taking care of the Miracle Box? Woo! GO gir- wait a minute. First he chooses a 13 year old to be the superhero of Paris and now he also chooses that same kid to take care of the Miracle Box? I mean it would make sense that he would want the same person he chose to take over once he’s gone but she is a CHILD, Master Fu. If she’s keeping that box she’s going to be more at risk than before. I mean it’s sweet and all but I don’t know how I feel about this.

- Also she put the prescription in with the letter for Adrien I think we can all see where this is going

- Also my unobservant brain skipped over this the first time I watched it but Kagamis Mom is blind?? That’s pretty neat. I thought of Toph.

- ”What I want more than anything else in the world is written on this piece of paper” girl you gave him the prescription!! Check your letters!

- Check your letters!

- MARINETTE DUPAIN-CHENG CHECK YOUR FREAKING LETTERS.

- Well we have officially learned that Marinette is the type of person that doesn’t check drive-thru orders until she gets home.

- Gabriel:*growls and cringes away from possible contact with a stranger* Me: Well that’s only just the most relateable scene in animated history.

- Ayyy, Pigeon Boy is here today!

- Whoa, Marinette can just reach into her Yoyo and pull stuff out? Convenient.

- Speaking of that, again, Marinette CHECK. THE. LETTERS. Seriously, you just pull it out all folded up and hope it’s the right one before passing it off? How does that not BUG you? *badum tss*

- “I aM GabrIEl aGreSTE And Im nOT FeeLInG WelL” woah there boy that’s a little agresteive don’t you think?

- ....The man has a portable akuma. You know, just a lil somethin somethin in case you gotta make a quick supervillain on your trip out of town.

- How does no one hear him laughing?? Like??...welp, Paris is the city of love, and love is supposed to be blind. Whatever.

- “I better go check on my father” “Occupied!” Pfshhhh that is hilarious.

- “Then I’ll be able to get my hands on all the other magic jewels as well” *not a direct quote* Wow, for someone who is supposed to be just trying to get his wife back, he sure has gone mad with power huh?

- Woah, that lucky charm though. That took some accuracy. Good job, Ladybug.

- That cute lil face Chat made when she told him to speak backwards like “I’d love to M’lady but uh...”

- Was a little risky though, if it wasn’t perfect he coulda accidentally cataclysmed the lady instead of the akuma.

- That lil hand kiss though! Ah!! They’re so cute.

- He literally evil laughed right before coming out of the bathroom and Adrien H E A R D it. HOW DID NO ONE HEAR HIM.

- Also why are they talking about the miraculous so openly! Pigeon man is right there, and Marinette was eavesdropping easily. Call me picky but that kind of stuff needs to be spoken about behind closed doors.

- Are we gonna see old people kiss? No? Okay.

- How excited the girls were to hear about Marinette and Adrien though! They’re so supportive! It’s adorable as heck??!

- Adrien literally spent his whole weekend looking for something he thought Marinette needed. That sweet kid. Like he was probably so confused but. He did it anyway. I mean constipation capsules. Not just any guy would get those for a chick 😂 many would be grossed out. He is such a sweetheart. A confused little cinnamon roll.

- Rose’s last line isn’t all that wrong tbh

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conspiracieys-archive · 5 years

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dusan nemec, but as a supervillain. what powers would he have, where would his base be, how would he keep his secret identity if he has on, what would his super suit look like, etc.

hmmmmmm..... this is a good ask! well... let's see. long as usual so i tried to cut it under a read more (but u know mobile tumblr doesnt WORK so im sorry)

his secret identity. he keeps it secret really well, just because he's got a real good poker face and he also doesnt attack, like, places that can be traced back to him. (the exception is the DedSec hq, assuming in this au theyre the superheroes in parallel to him)

but the hq thing is covered by the fact that there ARE a lot of anti-dedsec people ANYWAY (bc there's always gotta be a few ppl who just hate the heroes). but also hacking is a commonplace thing nowadays and in the WD universe (and consequently this au), hacking is just... Insanely Huge? everyone and their mom seems to be a hacker, so if electronic fuckery happens, it's not GUARANTEED to be his fault ya know?

(also he has like... super enhanced intelligence as a ..power (see below) so like, it's not hard for him to come up w excuses or be tactical about when he does his Villainous Shit)

[ALSOOOOO -im writing this after ive written almost everything else sry- he doesn't like..... reveal he has powers. to the world, Dusan Nemec is just an incredibly good coder and he's just got a genius intellect. but his Villain flaunts his powers and takes pride in what he can do.

so it's like "Well, Dusan, do what that villain did" and Dusan sits down and like, painstakingly writes line after line of code to try and mimic the effects of his technopathy but he can't do everything technopathy can. so it's really hard to pin it on him. ppl still suspect though. they always suspect.]

POWERSSSSSSSS. i was gonna save this for last but then i realized: his primary power is technology manipulation. the good guys with this power would be technopaths, but he LIKES the phrase 'technology manipulation' because Dusan likes to be able to manipulate things... people... technology... to do whatever he wants.

so like before he came into his power of technopathy, he was still really, really good with coding. he'd never admit to having hacked things before working w ctos, but he has. and then... [insert backstory here] and now he can bypass the need to code and just ... MAKE ctos respond to him. he can pull up any surveillance cam at will, he can access any file remotely (we will address this in the Super Suit section), he can hack the traffic lights, he can just... do anything.

and w his personality, THAT is what makes him a supervillain.

if you don't have ctos or blume devices in your house, he bypasses ALL of it and forces Blume and ctos software to install. hell, your sexy Samsung smart fridge? literally now it's just been forcefully turned into a Blume fridge. w his remote access he can just turn any phone he passes into a ctos phone. like only another technopath (DedSec - technopathy would be one of the biggest requirements to get into the core of DedSec) can prevent Dusan's abilities from infecting and destroying and essentially controlling their technology.

he also has slightly superpowered intellect. which i think is a stupid ability but also i'm giving it to him anyway cuz he's considered a genius within the wd universe. so why not throw in the fact that his mind itself, aside from technopathy, has been quite altered and has significantly more improved functioning than the rest of us.

and lastly he does have an Eidetic memory. which isn't rly a superpower by itself but in combination w superpowered intellect and technopathy makes it an asset to his power set, ya know?

he can and will remember exactly who has ctos installed, who doesnt, if he had to do it or if they were willing, etc.

and he definitely remembers every little tidbit he finds abt DedSec

ok so since we've established he's a technopath now, and we know there are weird basement levels of Blume's HQ, at least 3 rooms are just HIS to use. like no one, not even another technopath, can access them. just bc he has Blume HQ fortified to the nines. i mean DedSec could probably TRY and maybe succeed at getting into Blume HQ itself but like, they won't get into his underground base.

like no one knows that three rooms off of the server rooms are even... there? he's got sexy hidden doors. like false servers?? where to the eye they look and glow and flicker like proper servers but they're secret doors. legit no one knows they EXIST much less how to GET TO THEM. his HQ is, like, solid af

super suit. ok like the main thing is he has a helmet. like.... a fitted full head helmet w tinted tempered glass in the screen. it's all black on the outside, and like nice cushy fuckin memory foam on the inside (sleek and black too ofc) and the visor is also a computer. (remote access!)

his base outfit is a black fitted body suit that is also, like, technologically fitted?

i just want it to be glowy ok?? he also has it programmed so that when he uses his technopath abilities and channels them thru his hands, his finger tips light up bc he's just That Bitch.

in theory his helmet visor/screen could emote like Wrench's mask

over his body suit, he has like. ok bear with me but like. skinny black sweats? they're not super tight or super loose. they sit low on his hips and end mid calf. i love Dusan and i love his sweats ok. he wears them always i'm trash.

also he's stupid and has shoes build into his body suit basically? like they're really nice and have good support and they're just... part of the body suit.

no he does not wear anything over the top of his bodysuit. also obvs the body suit is like, from his chin to his toes, w long sleeves and gloves as well.

his glowy bits are like, sleet and soft grey.

it's gotta be weird cramming his dumb beard into his suit and helmet but he does it. for fashion and to give away as little as possible in regards to his identity.

oo also he has like a speaker in his helmet that works as a voice scrambler. so it's like. even harder to trace to him, and w his technopathy he can change the scrambler at will.

like deadass one time he attacks DedSec he makes his voice scrambler sound EXACTLY like Wrench and it's shaking.

he doesn’t have any visible logos, just cool tech-y lines down his sides, arms, and legs. probably his back too? by tech-y lines i mean the kind you see on microchips and stuff.

ok let's talk abt weaknesses bc i rambled abt how GOOD his technopathy is.

but bc of his superior intellect, and just based on canon stuff, Dusan is... like the ULTIMATE stereotyped villain in that he just... loves to Monologue.

so it's easy to drop a virus into his system if you just keep him talking.

like say he's showin down w DedSec and he has all but Marcus tied up and he's gettin ready to kill Marcus but Marcus gets him monologuing so, like, Wrench can use his own technopathy to manipulate a virus into Dusan's suit.

the thing is, Dusan is aware 99% of the time. he's aware of his suit's system. he's aware of how his system connects back to Blume HQ and his private offices off the server room. he's aware 99% of the time of everything

but when Marcus fucking Holloway plays dumb as a box of rocks, Dusan Nemec canNOT help but mockingly explain things to him. and Marcus is used to ppl thinking lesser of him, so it's really easy to play it up until...

WELL, YA KNOW???

n Marcus fucking BOOKS IT to save DedSec while all sort of DS imagery is popping up on Dusan’s visor screen and Ode to Joy but, ya know, the DedSec version all loud and violent, is BLARING into his ears and he cant THINK and he’s scrambling and by the time he can get his brain to focus and force out the virus, DedSec is gone

(he never learns, either. but sometimes it’s Tchaikovsky’s 1812 Overture or some shit. it’s always a different violent crescendo of a classical song, ok? he never ever learns but he comes to DESPISE classical music.)

that’s like, his biggest weakness. he can’t help but, well, mansplain when he thinks he’s better than everyone in the room (which is always) and someone asks a stupid question. he’s such a jerk in canon, and this au/concept makes it worse bc he has like, veritable proof that his brain is more capable than others.

and, for the grand finale of this answer, Dusan Nemec’s Super Villain name...

i have NO FUCKING CLUE. here are some options:

the Coder, the Hacker, MicroGhost??? bc he like... can come and go like a ghost??? microchip, fantasy name gen just gave me Incognito which is so stupid i love it??? idk give me suggestions.

tysm for the ASK. let’s get back on this DUSAN SHIT

#ask #dusan nemec #watch dogs 2 #dedsec #anonymous #bleep #i loved doing this actually?#thank you!!!!#long post

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mooosicaldreamz · 6 years

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(1) help! i don't know if i'm gay or not!! i don't have anyone to talk about this so im so sorry to dump it on you. you might not even answer this and that's ok bc i can't expect you to feel comfortable in answering. i won't be offended. i just need someone to read this. i read so much wlw fanfiction. i feel so comfortable being in fandoms that support wlw. when i masturbate i see myself as the guy pleasuring the girl.

(2) that line in your latest fic “animal” really stuck out to me, the one where lena was in the club and she goes “there was no disgust, only wonder.” that line is how i feel towards the lgbtq community. i have a few gay friends but i feel like im supposed to have more to be considered a “true member.” i feel like im a fraud bc i don’t dress like a gay person bc i don’t even know what that means. but i love being around women. i want to be around women for the rest of my life.

(3) i feel more comfortable around women than i do men. i’ve had a boyfriend in the past and that was not a good experience and ive been told i can’t jump to conclusions just because of one boy. i always want to kiss a girl and be with a girl but i feel like my attraction isn’t valid bc i haven’t been with a girl ever before. im so fucking shy. it sounds strange to say but i feel so goddamn ugly. too ugly for any girl to want to be with me. i just want to know that im not crazy.

(4) sorry for the spam! tl;dr, i feel in my heart of hearts that women have a special priority in my life that i just can’t put into words. i just don’t know how i fit in with the lgbtq community or if they’ll accept me, because i don’t “look” gay and i don’t have a lot of gay friends. if i want women to be my priority in life, does that make me a lesbian? gay? i like men bc sometimes they’re pretty, but that’s it. what the fuck does this mean? i’m terrified of being wrong about myself.

(5) for now i have no label for myself. i’m not straight. but i don’t even know if i’m allowed to be gay. thanks for reading. i know this was a lot. i don’t want to feel so confused anymore. i reached out to you bc i love the way you wrote lena’s journey in the “animal” fic. i feel like i have a lot of wonder for the lgbtq community as of now, but i’m dying to know if i have a place there or not.

i’m going to break down my response into little digestible numbered chunks which are hopefully somewhat helpful/reassuring

1) okay first i think i’d probably like to say that i am by no means an authority on what it means to be gay or bi or in general of the community~ so you know. don’t take me as word of god or anything.

2) you don’t have to know if you’re gay or not. when i was about 16 i started reading wlw fanfiction and realized i was like……super into it and it spiralled out from there for me. i’ve known ppl who have known they were for certain gay or bi since they were 10 and i’ve known ppl who’ve figured it out in their 20s and 30s. you don’t HAVE to know a damn thing. and it’s okay if you’re not gay too. people grow and change throughout the entirety of their lifetime and you have time to figure yourself out always and forever.

3) there are no rules to being gay (there are also no rules to being straight), so you don’t have to be a certain way ever and if anyone tells u you have to be then they’re stupid. you don’t have to dress a certain way or act a certain way to be anything. you can be you. you don’t have to fit into an exact category to be gay. you don’t have to have gay friends to be gay either. when i was working thru my major identity issues while i was a teenager, i didn’t know anyone who was gay either. there’s no rules in this way.

4) you don’t have to have been with a girl, either - theoretically, at some point, every gay woman has never been with a girl, but that doesn’t mean that who they are and how their attractions work aren’t valid. the very existence of your feelings mean that they exist and are valid. if anyone tells you you can’t be gay because you’ve never been with a girl tell me their address and i will punch them.

5) people who say that you shouldn’t base your opinion on dating dudes on one experience are stupid and are misunderstanding the root issue. if you want to date dudes, date dudes, and if you don’t, then don’t. that’s how simple it is. if you want to date women, then date them. you don’t have to have an exact label. just do you.

6) on a similar note, i can’t label you for you because that would be dickish! it sounds to me like you’re struggling with your identity and i support you exploring and understanding yourself. idk if you wanting women to be a priority in life means that you’re gay because only you can define that for yourself. ftr, i also think dudes are pretty. i would maybe date one 1 out of 10 times, but i still pretty much define myself as gay. and that’s cool.

7) i want to address specifically your sentence "i’m terrified of being wrong about myself” because i really truly believe that no one can be wrong about themselves. you are yourself, you are the one who gets to make the rules about you and what you are and who you are going to be. you literally cannot be wrong. there are stupid ppl in this world who might tell you you have to be a certain way to be any one thing, but that is false. you can be what you are. that’s that. for real. i know i sound like a fuckin self-help book but i don’t care, it’s the facts. i understand about societal pressures and shit but when it comes to your mind and body, you are the owner of you. so you can’t be wrong about it.

8) you are super allowed to be gay. there’s no test. no one checks you at the door at pride and makes sure you fit in.

9) it’s okay to be confused. i, a person who has been pretty aware of my interests since i was 15, am still confused. you don’t have to know everything about yourself before you let yourself try something. in fact, there’s a likelihood you won’t know a damn thing until you try. i recently learned that i like red peppers! i thought for YEARS that i hated red peppers. i thought for a long time that dating a girl would be weird and uncomfortable because i thought - stupidly - that dating a girl would just be different than what love or dating was supposed to be. and it’s not. i tried it and i like it and i’m happy. but you also don’t have to like it once you try it.

10) the tldr version of my response to your questions is this: you can be you, whatever that is. you don’t have to fit a label or pass a test. it’s okay to be uncertain and anxious and confused; there are tons of people who have gone through things like what you’re going through. i’m one of them. so don’t be afraid. there is a place for you in the lgbtq community if you want a place.

i have NO idea if that was helpful. but for real, i’m with you and support you, okay? you are valid whatever way you are.

#hey if y'all out there want to add anything to what i said feel free to reblog and share #i get the feeling this person could use some more thoughts #i hope for real that this was helpful buddy #love u

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castlehead · 6 years

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makeshift feels from the opinion lab

kafka wrote in a journal urhmherm of being limited to prague, then his room, then his bed, then nothing at all. to be limited at last to nothing at all. well. turns out i guess the most kafkaesque sentiment came from franz kafka.

enjoi ya rickety gethsemane while it is still to be dreamed, young writers, young writers of youth.

after a job on a hot day back in april or may or something i started listening to this while walking out of the truck towards the gas station convenience store and abruptly pivoted away from the sliding doors to sneak around the side and weep near the green fencing around some boilers. it occurred to me how little i could ever forgive myself for doing.

the shit ive done, all of it, i havent forgiven myself. if i did it and it was bad, or even meagre, dumb, really no big deal, bet yr ass it still keeps me from thinking i deserve happiness. i do not forgive myself for anything ive ever done. no deed is too temporal to etch itself cleanly into my head as something unforgivable, if only it makes a small point.

i know this is true because no joy i ever feel is felt fully, because i do not think it is deserved; and because i allow myself to be joyous only when i think of the truth of my unforgiven, unforgivable state. never to be. Never will.

and that is what is depression.

There must be something here, in me. Here where the jackals caterwAul Like streetcats Mewing their gizzard After this night’s heat, What’ll it be Jackals, Buzz off, shit man

i feel like the key to life is knowing that 90 percent of anxiety & depression, either in degree or in its truth, and at least somewhere not wracked by war, is unsubstantiated (the ten percent being actual crises, like fear of violence, a death in the family, etc). The problem is how persuasive these feelings can be that lead to the fulfillment of the very fear or solidifying the reason for being depressed. But with positive feelings, the least thing, whether true or no, can always be rewarding. A bit of happiness must be allowed to be felt, indiscriminately, because it is more useful to us than a bit of sadness. Take the fierce dialectic u use to establish a depressing ‘truth’ and persuade yourself of something good. If one is far fetched, let it be the something bad. Until it happens, after all, all of it remains in your head, to do with what u will.

You don’t get to lower taxes on the rich and gut social services at the same time. The reason social services are in place is to provide a fair shake for john q public. Mostly investors are feeling the benefits of the corporate tax cut. They’re not giving the money towards a better product that would help the people. but one day there will be no sesame seeds on the bun of yr Big Mac and you’ll wonder how that’s possible with an entire sesame seed dept that just got a pay raise.

tax reform should be done to help a free market, so that the rich can be poor and the poor rich. Taxation helps the people so that social services become less necessary. Social services were developed because the percentage of taxation was unequal between higher and lower class. Poor folks felt the pain while rich folks shrugged it off.

Thats why I say you can’t do both: social services are a protection against the world being entirely controlled, if it’s not already, by those from the very swamp this president wants to drain. T**** hasn’t drained shit.

i feel like writing takes over for your thought process. You can’t think and write at the same time, or something. something turns off or it switches where it’s doing the shit it’s doing to a different place, like yr hands. I don’t think you can write down one linear thought with another thought being thought in your head. This is why people say their mind goes blank in extended periods of inspiration. The functioning has gone from being untethered and temporal, ie wandering thoughts, notions, speculating, to being possessed in a focused place, ie yr hands, which usually leads to a more focused expression of perhaps a thought of particular value, enough in the first place to require writing down. But tho this can be easy for some talented people, who might, as Joyce said, polish their nails while writing some genius thing, what does not come easy for anybody, because it is imposssible, is thinking two disparate things, of the everyday and of some behemoth philosophic concept, for example, without either one taken place after or before; or, one of them being intermittently disturbed, tho linearly, by the other, like a notification on yr phone- until at last one of the two breaks down, and the foxus superseded by the one left. This is especially novel. One thinks; one does not think and also think. That would make it two people in one head. Therefore we can presume that ones identity is found in the unity, or internal focus, of their story in thoughts down one narrow wire: thought can cross many paths and examine everything under and beyond th sun, but per person it is still in the singular. It cannot divide into two simultaneous paths of equal focus. there can be multilayered thoughts with a similar core concept behind them, and these can be thought simultaneously as much as one can ante up and dole out shades of emotion and shades of thought, and so on. But I cannot think of a teleological explanation for all creation and with the same focus Apply myself to letters in the mail. There is a dominant voice, and the rest, the mundane voice, is seen thru that lens.

ya cant say yr colorblind then gripe about people hatin ya cuz u r white. contradiction of terms no? if you really didnt see color, ud say people hated yr ass because yr a damnfool entrylevel, grunt-ass lowbrow. not because of the color of ya skin, which ya recognized and put to the forefront in making that very statement.

feel like uh, a priori is not intuition alone. Intuition is a function of the mind, while a priori is, if I understand Kant correctly, a representation synthesized before there is an object of focus available for the senses to interpret, ie an essentially true conclusion drawn, that has no need for a combined manifold, as, Kant tells us, is offered by merely living in space and time: time to extend and progress from cause to effect to cause, and space to do it in. In other words, intuition is cognitive- psychological, and a priori, theoretical- logical.

Pathos is the one thing most divine about people, for i see that in my worst state I can still grieve for the savaging of life’s last hope, and be uplifted, feel tears, at least for a little blessed while. There is no state so low that does not inspire one to at least pity themselves, and feel the comfort of passions, however mistaken or wretched the person.

i feel that / Some subjects do not even allow to be proved through the scientific method, yet they are still issues of a scientific nature and not just mysticism. the line is very thin however, since usually these subjects devolve into mysticism. In fact, if science only worked with that which could be proven, from the outset or otherwise, we’d have a pretty limited roster of discoveries. Sometimes discoveries can be made along the way towards proving; sometimes, discoveries can be made, scientifically, thru means that for lack of anything better, are entirely theoretical. And sometimes the search is not to prove something true but to clarify something. Science is not out to be incontrovertible.

The man in mismatched sox inhaled not as deeply as he would have liked at such a crescendo, even if on the third listen in a row, then, looked up at the massive pure blue upwards, cloudless, felt likely to cry for joy, but in the end simply mouthed the words:

“I’m gonna die of loneliness, fo sho.”

So often doth trespass our intuition upon realms and pathways of a more intimate enumeration of cause and effect than could be available to any witness, and that is available only to the actioning of objects involved in the event seen and analyzed by what and who were no player.

The crisis paid goodbyes in the form of telling your ass off, is what he said. But we all knew he thought he was merely a parable often enough already. We didn’t listen to the crisis, deliberately shut our ears like boxing them very slowly ourselves before anyone else could. Later in the year many terrible events would occur that were the direct result of ignoring his words. But nobody came around to believing he did it. The crisis was way off teaching prophecies someplace probably foreign. But if I refuse to be confined to learning from my own folly I should at least give the follies of others a chance. Fatass karma, and more hell than handbasket.

What the crisis he said was

HEY YOU DONT WANT TO FACE JACK, FACE? TELL ME ABOUT HOW CRUELTY CAN BE ELEGANT AGAIN. YOU ARE FACING NO SUCH BURDEN OF SIMPLY LIVING. TELL ME WHAT HALLUCINATIONS ARE, YOU SWOLLEN, DYSPEPTIC SHIT.

And to this day All I remember is him Looking slain already Like he’d be on the slab In days Or even hundreds of years from then And it’d be how, uh, how He looked then Slamming the door While my sister and things Was gatherin they buckets for weeping later In that queer disease of spite where You grieve for the vanquished enemy.

all triumph is in some sense humorous, for in itself triumph is the opposite of tragedy. that is why the soldier laughs as he shoots at a retreating enemy. there is an element of rowdiness that is somewhat comedic, taken in itself.

Numbers are the only symbols that stand for what they are. In this way they are more like hieroglyphs

is bed porn a thing? it should definitely be a thing.

THIS LIFE IS FILLED WITH DARKNESS THIS DARKNESS IS SO LIGHT GOD IN HEAVEN QUA SKY MUST BEAT WINGS TO KEEP ON GROUND NOTHING MUCH IS EVER FOUND NOTHING MUCH IS EVER FOUND. No symbols where none intended etc etc

No art is permanent, in that its aims in being created do not last, do not translate between epochs. I will never experience Homer as one living in Ancient Greece. Have not closely read Homer, but when I do it will be as myself in my time, with all the sullying context of those years from then to now only left to unguide me.

Kierkegaard tricks you into thinking he knows his insanity is illogical, the side effect of writing his labyrinths. The frightening moment comes when you realize how fiercely logical his insanity seems to him, and how insane the World actually is, and you wonder if it is that you do not understand it or just do not accept it.

#prose #powtry #prowse #poetry #collage #social media

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