#todays poem is actually one i wrote years ago

[marsapolis]

+° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° +° .

"i know i am no better than swine

i scream and squeal at the ground 'make me beautiful, in the image of the starry night sky!'

i carve, dirty hands in dirty soil, messages for the gods i may never lay eyes on 'make me perfect. make me feel love. make me.'

-the irony is pigs dont even know what stars look like! and im the pig!! get it? haha! get it????? im sad!!!

+° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° +° .

i promise soon ill make happy poems, ive just been so moody lately! i went apple picking with a friend today, we also got pumpkins! sometimes i forget how nice it feels to dress up and play with friends :) sorry no haha funny post today, maybe tomorrow! OH also!! i was thinking about maybe on sunday nights posting "outfit inspo" collages!! so if that sounds cool maybe comment a little "yeah babe" or a "hey kiddo, its dad, i know we havent spoken much since, well really ever. but i wanted you know, im proud of you." to let me know youd like the collages :D!!!

+° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° +° .

#whimsical #whimsigoth #whimsigothic #whimsigothaesthetic #whimsy #whimsigoth room #whimsycore #moon and stars #pretty lady #castle #purple #idk but the purple hues in todays post are such a vibe #i have daddy issues #can you tell? hehe #todays poem is actually one i wrote years ago #i feel very confident in who i am now :D #black cat #i really appreciate all the love lately<3 #maybe tell me you love me or something #lets be parasocial already

[the12thnightproject]

I thought of a HC request, if that's fine by you: the Warlords each receive a letter signed by an anonymous person saying that "The most important person in their lives is being held hostage."

However, it turns that no one was held hostage, and it was all just an experiment done by MC and Sasuke. I saw this in a comic book story years ago.

I apologize if this is confusing.

Hi Anon!  Thank you for stopping into the ol’ ask box. “The most important person in their lives is being held hostage”…? Yikes, even as an experiment that’s cruel (especially as an experiment). So… ok, I’m going to actually acquit Sasuke of this…. Even though he’s not the most emotionally adept, he’s smart enough to know that this kind of note is not the sort of thing you do in Sengoku.

HOWEVER...

We’ve seen in several event routes, that MC, especially if she is feeling inadequate, or jealous or whatever, WOULD indeed do something like this. In event routes, we’ve seen her try to make her suitor jealous, followed them, tried to give Masamune alcohol, considered giving Mitsuhide an aphrodisiac…

Yeah, if this is an event version of MC, she would do this. The question is… does she send the message and hide, HOPING that her suitor will think she is the hostage, OR does she send the message and then stand next to the warlord as he opens it, to see the reaction?

Let’s just assume she’s hiding.

"The most important person in your life is being held hostage."

Nobunaga – Opens the letter, is momentarily worried, but then he notices the top of MC’s head over the edge of the tenshu balcony. He pitches his voice loudly and announces, “Oh no! My WIFE is being held hostage.” There is a shocked whisper of “wife?” from outside, and then a scared squeak because MC loses her grip and almost falls. Nobunaga rushes out to the balcony and pulls her back to safety. Then he assures her that she is the love of his life, and makes her promise to never do anything that stupid again.

Hideyoshi – Panics. But panics in such complete brain melting gibberish, that MC is unable to tell whether or not he is worried about her…. or Nobunaga.

Mitsuhide – Realizes instantly that MC wrote the letter, and – while creeping carefully toward where MC is hiding – says, “Well… that’s way too much to pay for MC. Guess I’m going to just die a sad, lonely, man.” Then he pulls her out of her hiding place and says, “Dear me, I’ve found a tricky little mouse who apparently wants to play games tonight.” Follows that up with some suggestions about what kind of games they could play.

Masamune – Immediately takes off intending to rescue MC. MC has to chase after him to assure him that she is ok after all.  After his initial relief passes, he promises her she is the most important person in his life, and makes her promise never to do anything that stupid again.

Ieyasu –  “My sourdough starter!” Runs back to his manor to check on it.

Mitsunari – The ransom note gets mixed in with all the loose papers in his room and he never sees it.

Keiji – Plots a daring rescue. Writes a poem about the daring rescue. Puts the poem about the daring rescue to music. Hires a group of travelling players to act out daring rescue. Forgets to actually pull off daring rescue.

Ranmaru – Is doing his secret squirrel spy ninja stuff around the castle when he runs across MC hiding before he even gets the note.

Kennyo – Because everyone is important to Kennyo, he spends the rest of the week checking up on every person he knows to make sure they are ok.

Motonari – Catches MC writing the ransom note and eagerly volunteers to help her carrying the abduction.

Kicho – “And…?”

Kenshin –  If you’ve ever wondered why today, Kasugayama Castle is in ruins… well, wonder no more.

Kanetsugu – “Kenshin!” Then realizes that no force in the world could take Kenshin hostage, and hunts down MC’s hiding place. Takes fifteen minutes to icily explain to her why this was a cruel joke, but as soon as she starts crying and apologizing and vowing never to do such a stupid thing again, he gathers her in his arms and assures her that he loves her very much.

Shingen – Reads note, and recognizes MC’s handwriting. It takes him no time whatsoever to locate her. He then spends the rest of the night assuring her how much he loves her, how much she means to him (granted, he probably didn’t need the entire night, but Shingen is thorough).

Yoshimoto – MC realizes that she cannot do this to Yoshimoto – he’s suffered enough in his route and she doesn’t want to push him over the edge. So instead she sends him on a scavenger hunt, and when he follows all the clues, he finds MC at the end, lying in his bed, wearing only rose petals. She spends the rest of the night convincing him how much she loves him.

Yukimura – Enlists Sasuke’s help. Sasuke reads the note. “Wait, I believe I read this in a comic book somewhere.” He helps Yuki find MC where she is hiding. When the inevitable argument follows Yuki’s, “Dummy! How could you do such a thing. You know I love you, right?”  Sasuke slinks away.

Sasuke – Is pretty sure he read about this in a comic book, but goes to Azuchi to check on Ieyasu just in case.

@lorei-writes

#asks #answered #headcanon theater #ikemen sengoku #ikesen mc #ikesen nobunaga #ikesen hideyoshi #ikesen mitsuhide #ikesen masamune #ikesen ieyasu #ikesen mitsunari #ikesen keiji #ikesen ranmaru #ikesen kennyo #ikesen motonari #ikesen kicho #ikesen kenshin #ikesen kanetsugu #ikesen shingen #ikesen yukimura #ikesen sasuke #ikesen yoshimoto #headcanons #hc

[burningvelvet]

on percy shelley & human connection & coping through art

to set the mood of this post i must say i'm writing it really quickly on my phone over a bowl of pasta with bread & broccoli & some orange flavored sparkling water & im still dressed in my outdoor wintery clothes (all black, knee boots, wool, silver chains & rings, although i mostly prefer gold jewelry).

so anyway today i've been kind of sad over ppl not replying to my texts & my usual reaction is to say "ok, guess i'll kms, wah wah, cry cry" but this sort of passively cynical joking schtick has gotten old & i would rather occupy myself some other way instead of moping about failed connections or the difficulty of initiating contact with anyone or the struggles of modern socialization as a whole.

instead, i will read the works of percy shelley tonight, and think about how he struggled with all of this over 200 yrs ago. of how hard he struggled to make leigh hunt and lord byron collaborate with him on their journal the liberal, and how he struggled all his life to build a positive community even in spite of years of bullying, ostracization, and family strife - he often felt like giving up, and like human connection was impossible, but he never gave in to apathy and instead he continuously curated his ideal life by seeking out other like-minded people, even when he occasionally embarrassed himself in public or when others were decidely averse to him or lukewarm in their reception. john keats didn't entirely take to him when they met and some of keats' friends straight-up disliked percy for being weird, but percy (though scarcely knowing him) loved keats as a brother-poet nonetheless, was generous to him, wrote one of his masterpieces in his favor, and died with a copy of his poems in his pocket.

percy always reached out to others and was a loyal friend even when others disrespected him or ignored him or just simply didnt love him as much as he did them. his letters to lord byron show how reverent he was to his friend, and how his affection was never returned in quite the same gusto, but, while still trying to keep his self-respect, percy quelled his frustrations and continued his correspondence with byron regardless. percy acted as the mediator between byron and claire even when his stress was so high it weighed heavily on his health. he actively tried to choose to be positive even when the people around him were negative or miserable. like most writers back then, he sent his writing to his idols, and sought mentorship from people he admired, like william godwin and leigh hunt, and he continued to respect them even when they took advantage of him financially (moreso in godwin's case).

anyway what i mean to say is that whenever im feeling lonely or rejected or alienated or socially stupid or am just second-guessing my role in society or whatever whatever whatever, i cling to creativity/art/literature/etc. even harder than i regularly do, because thats what it exists for.

i knew a therapist (not one i saw as a patient, but someone i knew through mutual interests in media/the arts) who said that a certain musical performance we both loved probably saved way more lives than any single therapist ever has. - the performance in question was david bowie's tokyo 1990 live recording of rock n roll suicide, an anti-suicide song (its available on youtube, go watch it lol, he performs it with so much conviction).

any way even though at the end of his life shelley sometimes felt like he was failing to achieve his dream of building a utopian art commune - he actually did succeed in introducing several people to each other in ways that changed peoples lives. his friends jane williams and thomas jefferson hogg got married only through his mutual friendship. whole literary societies have been started in his honor - to this day there are conferences & whatnot that meet annually - his life & writing continues to inspire people and bring them comfort - & he would be extremely proud of that - any artist would. the main goal of any famous dead writer is basically to become the imaginary friend of their future readers & he accomplished that - even though all the time he was wracked with doubt/depression/suicidality/illness/chronic pain, etc. - as a political/philosophical radical, he realized that having hope is one of the most influential & radical things one can do - & i'm glad that, even though this is a person who died over 200 yrs ago, there is at least one person who really resonates with me - even though we're from different centuries, different continents, different sexes, etc. - it's helpful to have positive influences to look up to, especially when they've also struggled in similar ways as you. and although shelley was pretty privileged (rich englishman) he really did struggle a lot mentally & physically - his life was a chaotic mess - and he wasn't perfect at all - but i think he's still inspirational for my previously mentioned reasons - his ceaseless hope. the last poem he was working on was titled the triumph of life, even though he wrote it during a deep depression. the last poem he published in his lifetime was hellas, which he hoped would raise money for the cause of greek war of independence. from the poem:

"Life may change, but it may fly not;

Hope may vanish, but can die not;

Truth be veiled, but still it burneth;

Love repulsed, — but it returneth!"

#percy bysshe shelley #percy shelley #me #? #ramblings #my writing #art #literature #socializing #thoughts #hopepunk #that was shelley #tw suicide mention #opinions #essays #poetry #social anxiety

[miniaturecollectiveendermen]

omfg so this is for @strawberrylabs birthday which was a month ago school has overtaken my life and i havent been able to work on any reqs or really anything except school i am so sorry to anyone whos requested and i still havent done the request - im trying my best to finish them but final year is very hectic

anyways without further ado~!

how they celebrate your birthday !!

ft. nagi seishiro, bachira meguru and kaedehara kazuha

!!WARNINGS!! gender neutral reader / no pronouns mentioned no actual warnings just pure fluff

nagi seishiro

so nagi

my husband

we all know how he is, he's very lazy and does not like putting effort into things

he loves you very much but he doesn't have the energy for anything

honestly a part of me feels like he'd forget about your birthday and reo would have to remind him

when he remembers its your birthday he'll do a little something

i think he'd by you a little gaming console as your gift so you could play games with him

this man cannot cook to save his life so dont expect him to cook you dinner

but he would order some food and light a small candle and make it look like a cute romantic dinner date

he only puts effort into / pays attention to things he likes

and he likes you a lot :)

after the dinner he'll drag you to bed and cuddle with you

and once he's latched on to you good luck getting him off he'll be on top of you cuddling you

and this man is h e a v y

tall muscle man

if you need to get up for whatever reason youll either have to pry him off or beg till he gives in (which will take a long time so you better start prying his arms off your body)

i like to think he likes wearing oversized hoodies so he can pull them over your head and the two of you can cuddle in his hoodie

my skrunkly baby mwah mwah i love him

bachira meguru

this rat /affectionate

this man would do SO MUCH for your birthday

imagine coming home from work / school and the entire house is decorated

like there's balloons everywhere and confetti

oh and a giant pile of gifts

you'll do a double take when you see the huge gift pile "meguru darling! what is this-" you call out to him "hun!! you're back!!" he pops his head into the room

he has a giant grin on his face and he's wearing a little party hat

he runs over to you and spins you around in a hug and puts a little crown on your head

"come on i have so much planned for today!"

he doesn't even let you get a word in he just drags you off

you have an amazing birthday

he makes you open all the presents while he records because he wants to show his mom his amazing partner

most of the gifts are very sweet and things you wanted

but there will be a couple of… odd- gifts

like a single sock

idk don't ask

anyways!

this man will literally tell you he's proud of you for being born

10/10 very good boyfriend

kazuha

kazuha my love

so as we know from what beidou said when she introduced him flowers come out of his mouth the moment he speaks

so just be prepared for that

i think kazuha would write poems for and about his s/o all the time and that includes a special birthday poem for you

if at the time of your birthday youre out at sea with the alcor crew then your birthday will be celebrated by the whole crew all together

its a very lively and fun celebration

but afterwards (when most of the crew passed out) kazuha will take you to a part of the ship where no one else is

the two of you will sit in the moonlight and he'll sing? recite-? idk but he'll tell you the poem he wrote for you

the two of you will have a nice romantic moment

the two of you might end up falling asleep together on the ships deck under the moonlight

AN// ohkay! thats done now

i hope you like it beloved <33 and others who read hope you enjoy too~!

i am now going to go work on other requests while im still in the groove

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin headcanons #genshin fluff #genshin scenarios #bllk x you #nagi x reader #blue lock headcanons #blue lock x reader #blue lock fluff #nagi seishiro x reader #nagi x you #bachira x reader #bachira x you #bachira fluff #kazuha kaedehara #kazuha x reader #kazuha x you #kazuha x gender neutral reader #genshin x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #blue lock x you #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact headcanons #genshin imagines #genshin impact #genshin impact fluff #genshin x gn reader #genshin #genshin hcs

[naturallyadventured]

carlenekanellis

There is an unspoken word from which women are born,

a code of sisterhood.

It is not seen nor heard, but ever so present.

An oath that is taken from a secret vibration

That transcends beyond girlhood

to a world where dreams are no longer fantasy but actuality, where truth is spoken and wisdom laid out.

In this space magic is created from love and abundance

in the rising dance of the sisterhood mantra.

This place is sacred,

here she can speak the chant that calms her kindred heart,and Sing the song of freedom

from which her soul beats.

Ignited by the fire that brews In Her belly she roams the land where her wild spirit soars

and takes in the prophecy of those that came before her.

Letting go of all pain, she builds a river of tranquillity,

that runs through her veins.

A life force of purity and strength that can not be tamed.

Here is where she is born in silence

Into an unspoken world,

from sister to sister

all whispering in the mystic language

of womanhood.©

Carlene

One of the first poems I wrote many years ago, explaining the depths at which I felt the power of sistership, the importance of building bonds with women of all ages, all colors, all experiences, all lifestyles and beliefs. It is in the fabrics of sistership where I learned to weave my own quilt in life. The blanket I could surrender in and fall deeply in love with myself and the power of woman hood and be fully supported in my raw authenticity.

A big part of who I am and the art I create today is deeply impacted by many many strings of the women who have weaves their way into my life.

I am so blessed. And so very excited to see where else my work takes me and the many many more strings I get to weave into the fabric of my life.

An image from “The wild Woman Immersion”

With @zemsway.of.earth & @ash.toashes in Shasta County.

[the-one-who-lambs]

I am writing for 15 minutes before deciding my brain is not braining today. I have to work on my master's thesis. I have written an entire narilamb oneshot in one sitting. I am spending 4 hours messing with my phone. I want to find a new recipe to make. I am in california at the biggest annual science conference in the united states. I have acquired a new verbal stim from a friend. i have to redo all the plots for my figures in R. I have another fic idea. I accidentally stayed up until 3 in the morning because the poem I had in my head wouldn't leave until I wrote it down. I am spending the week in washington dc meeting with indigenous alaskan leaders and scientists and policymakers to discuss climate change in the arctic. I am rotating funny lamb game blorbos in my brain until I throw up. I have no damn clue how I'm gonna make a career in academia or if I want to at this point. I am weeping because someone drew me fanart for my fics. I am once again asked if I will write the same narilamb trope that I popularized a year and a half ago. I have a meeting with my advisor and don't actually what progress I made this week. I am making myself emo about morally grey villainous characters. I am infodumping about dinosaurs as a substitution for flirting. I look at a picture of narinder and unthinkingly meow out loud.

#hannah's rambles

[callisteios]

Hey you seem to know a lot more about this than I do so I’m hoping you can help. Was Homer actually real? I’ve heard contrasting stories and I know what my emotional attachments would like to be the truth but I don’t actually know what the scholarly consensus is. Additionally if he was real, did he/they/whomever write more beyond the Iliad and the Odyssey? Trying to expand my Greek epics beyond the two big ones (although to be clear, I love them both). Thanks for any help you can give!

woahh hey anon. love that you've come to me for this. the person my greek lit prof did not love because i would only read the texts and none of the context...

this is not a question that has a yes/no answer unfortunately. from what i remember (when i studied this like 6 years ago??) sure (!?!?!) is the simplest answer. because long before the epics were written down (8th/7th cent BCE) they were oral poems for possibly many hundreds of years.

the yes scenario:

imagine for a moment that you're a guy homer and it's the 11th century BCE. you compose 2 (or more) really cool epic poems. they're so good that other bards learn them and they're repeated long after your death. all the way until writing is invented and everyone is like. my gods, this will be perfect to finally immortalise homer's poems.

In this scenario there's problems, particularly; are we really certain that the words written down in the 8th century are the exact same ones uttered by a guy generations earlier?

that's not a hypothetical we're quite sure it's a no. there were different versions floating around in antiquity, i believe (though may be wrong) that the versions of the iliad and odyssey we have today were codified in athens somtime in the 6th (?????) century.

so even in the 'yes, homer is a completely real guy who wrote 2+ poems, the version that we have today is not the work of one man, but countless communities and people who have all added and changed the stories to fit meter, culture, and current events.

The no scenario is simpler:

homer didn't write the original epics. maybe he's just the guy who wrote them down. maybe a disciple of homer did. maybe he wrote one but not the other. maybe homer was a woman. maybe homer never existed but by spending millenia attributing the poems to him we've made a god and homer is real but only because we believe. maybe a million things.

I'm really sorry that my answer is essentially ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ but it is what is. pick the answer you like the most, argue it to the death with everyone you know. that's the classics way

As for other homeric works,

you're in more luck. i must confess to not be super well versed in the entire homeric cycle or the homeric hymns. I don't believe any of these works are actually attributed to homer but they're all written about similar topics/in the same style.

most are lost i'm p sure which is super sad, i have however read the homeric hymns to demeter and hermes, i thought they were super fun. love demeter nearly damning humanity to eternal winter, love hermes being born and immidiately deciding to cause problems.

if anyone more knowledgable than i wants to let me know if any of that was horribly wrong, do let me know!

#ask #anon #again sorry for the utter centrism of that answer but anyone who tells you we know anything for certain about homer is lying #i think i like to believe that homer is the poet who maybe didn't compose the epics but rather the guy made them into their best versions #homer #the iliad #the odyssey #OMG i nearly didn't post without saying #READ THE AENEID #it's not greek #it's not homeric #it might not even be as good as either of the originals (it is to me) #but it's massively inspired by them and a roman version which is a fun concept which is executed very well imo

[elenakostyreva]

24.9.23 🌚 my contribution to @yughostlavia gloomy autumn challenge!

what i did today:

I wrote a poem. Actually, it was an absurd amount of obscure thoughts as prose. The idea I had was to print them out, and then cut them up, to create a new poem, or prose.

I got this idea from college when I was writing my thesis on Virginia Woolf & Gender Fluidity. In the editing process of a 10-page essay, my professor + advisor suggested to take one section of an essay, or merely one paragraph, and then cut it up into sentences. And then, re-arrange those sentences. What I noticed from this exercise, years ago, was the mind's attachment to already pre-made words, fragments, errors. Even if they are wrong, and can be better, in the mind...it has been complete, whole. So, the exercises detaches you and makes you reconstruct favorite sentences or ideas made.

You will be surprised how the mind attaches itself to phrases or sentences that have no significance, and may actually be the cause of confusion, arguing with yourself: "no, this is how it must be".

what i felt today:

I ended up crying: "I just want to be loved" at 4:53PM. I had my head on my lap, sitting on my chair, bent over. My dog moved from inside her crate to lick my nose, and when I turned away, she put her back to me, as if giving me space but still guarding me. I have noticed this before, when I do private things like in the bathroom or am washing my face and have my back turned to the door behind me, she will face her back to me, so that someone is watching, on guard.

how i loved today:

trying new ideas, even if I realize it was a mess in the end

painting hair with watercolor

learning something new, mastering something

feeling emotions, makes me human, vulnerable

being a woman, feeling pain of the menstrual, but also being the thing I kind of hate about being a woman

walking my dog, and on the way, grabbed The Stranger's magazine at Frye Art Museum only a few blocks from my apartment

discovered a new band: "Wynne", remembering when I used to discover obscure bands but lived farther away, and wondering why I don't do that anymore when I live closer so don't have to worry about a bus schedule to get back home

#art challenge #journal entry #my journal #gloomychallenge #studyspo #photography #artwork #diary entry #autumn aesthetic #gloomy weather #gloomy aesthetic

[engagedtobefree]

I’ve been struggling the past few weeks a bit with my mood. I feel kind of apathetic, I guess you could say. My usual optimism has been a struggle to tap into, but I think it’s finally coming around. To be fair to me, this new year has been a bit rough, and I don’t think I’ve actually had time to stop and process everything. I rang in the new year in bed, sick from a virus, then 3 weeks later just as I was starting to feel better, my friend Craig died. Then two days after his viewing, I was sick with covid for the first time ever. After I got over that, I developed a UTI, which luckily wasn’t as bad as it usually is. I tend to get them fairly easily because of my bladder disorder, but of course after I was getting back into the swing of things after covid, I fell asleep super early one night with a completely full bladder, and that was that 🙃 Then a few weeks later my mom and I had to put her dog to sleep. And really, the rest of it has been me trying to catch up while also focusing on trying to improve my mental health, which is a plate full all on its own. 

Oh, and Idk if I mentioned I’m writing a poem a day this year. Me, who is not consistent with anything, struggles with routines, and has never kept a streak of anything beyond maybe 2 or 3 weeks, has written 100 fucking poems this year!! Today will be day 101 once I write it. I’m actually so glad I started this, because I have needed it to process so many things and also it’s been one of the few saving graces of this year so far. It was a last-minute decision too. I didn't really plan for it, write it down as a goal, or think too much about it; I asked for a notebook for Christmas and my mom ended up getting me 3, one of which has 366 pages, which is perfect since it’s a leap year. That meant I could use a page a day. I wanted to increase my vocabulary, relearn and learn anew about poetry itself, get creative every day, and also write more often so I have the chance to not stay stuck writing about one thing for months and months and months. I take forever to finish a poem because 1. I write inconsistently and 2. I overanalyze every single word because I want it to reflect as accurately as possible what I’m writing about and I also want it to be “good”. My poems have always been deeply personal, so the truth of how I speak through them has always been very important to me. Since I’ve started doing this though, I noticed that I can still do that without spending forever on something, and that the more I write, the more inspiration blesses me. I still have my separate book for my other stuff, but I’ve almost exclusively been focusing on my daily poems since this year started, mostly because that’s all I have time for. No doubt once I get back to my other book, I will still take my time lol, which is fine, cuz now I still have my dailies. Also I realized that it’s okay that my “good” looks different every day, and not everything I write has to be a masterpiece. I’ve always been very self-critical, and this has helped me realize that expecting only “good” material is treating myself as a machine rather than a human being. If I don’t like what I write that day, at least I wrote something, and there will be another opportunity to write again tomorrow. I will probably still be really anal about editing stuff later, but right now, writing every day has been a lot of fun. 

Okay, so now it's time to dive into my personal problems! Wooo! I’m going to start with the one issue I have been hoping for a very long time now would be irrelevant, and that’s Scott. I don’t even tag his name anymore in any personal posts I’ve vented about him in because I just want this to go away, but he has been incessantly trying to get my attention. Literally. Things ended between us a good year and a half ago, but he tried to come back last summer and I was very, very, VERY clear about not wanting to try again and just being friends. He would occasionally reach out to me but it was just niceties and nothing to really worry about, though it did annoy me when he would contact me. But ever since the new year began, he was pestering me almost weekly, asking if I wanted to hang out, commenting on literally every single Snapchat story I post, and asking how I’ve been and saying he misses me. I had legit excuses for the first month and half with getting sick 3 separate times and then my friend Craig dying, but since then it’s mostly been me going to bed before he messages me, ignoring his messages till the morning, him skipping a week in not contacting me, or me just saying I’m too tired for company, which wasn’t actually a lie tbh. I ignored the situation as long as I could before I finally succumbed to the reality that I couldn’t ignore it forever. 

Not this past Friday but the one before was the day I finally decided to deal with it. He was messaging me much earlier in the day than usual, like literally I wasn’t even done work yet, but that also gave me time to feel out what I wanted to do. He asked if he could come over and I told him yes, but then added something pretty close to “I don’t know what your expectations are, but I want you to know that everything I said last summer still stands. I haven’t changed my mind about anything. I am only interested in friendship and nothing more.” I didn’t want him here without me first saying anything to him because I knew he wasn’t going to say anything to me beforehand and I didn’t want to feel like I was caught in some sort of trap in my own home, aka my safe space. He opened my message then didn’t respond for maybe half an hour or so. When he did respond, he said he wanted to hook up with me but he respected if I didn’t want to. Then he said he did really want to be friends at least because he likes me as a person. I told him I know it’s not what he wanted to hear, but I didn’t want him coming here with some idea that something could happen, and that a friendship is really all I want. He responded back that he thought he should tell me before coming over. Okay, so I have a lot to say (vent) about all of that. First off, he wasn’t planning on telling me shit until I said something. He was going to come here and then ask if I wanted to hook up, putting me in an awkward situation when I previously established very clearly I only wanted a friendship and have not even once since then indicated that I have any interest in anything more. This leads me into the second thing which is that he wasn’t even considering what I wanted, just what he wanted. I am very intentional with showing interest. I do not flirt or lead people on. If I flirt, it means I am interested. I have not flirted with Scott since before we even ended things. I send a lot of emojis to anyone and everyone when I message, but I have not sent him any since we broke things off. I also only say someone’s name when messaging if they say mine first or if I am interested. There are some more exceptions to that rule, but if I am consistently saying your name when reaching out, I’m interested. I have not said Scott’s name in messages since before we broke things off. I know that it might not seem like much, but all of that paired with me literally saying I don’t want to try again and only want to be friends should be more than enough to indicate I’m not interested. Thirdly, of course you are going to respect my decision because you’re not going to force me to change my mind. (When he did come over that night, I had a knife and my Simplisafe alert button near me just in case. I don’t think I will ever need them with Scott but you never know.)

I wasn’t sure if he would actually still want to come over after I turned him down, but he was not deterred. Everything went smoothly and it wasn’t awkward, thankfully. He was, however, acting very differently than usual. He was friendly, engaging, talkative, and gave me a bunch of compliments. If he had done this switcheroo like 2 years ago, I might have fallen for it, might have second guessed the fact that I wasn’t being treated right and that I wasn’t happy and ignored that deep down I didn't actually want to be with him, but I’m way past that now. The way he was acting was how he always acted with everyone else except me, which in the past, hurt me a lot. When it came to me, he was often cold, distant, non-communicative, inconsiderate. So for me, him doing this now only really solidifies him in the friendship role. It’s weird in a way because I previously wanted him to act this way with me, like how he did with friends and acquaintances, because it was the nicer Scott, not realizing that if he treated me like other people, it would put me in the same role as them. But now, me actually fulfilling my wish from years ago puts me in the friend/acquaintance role by him being nicer to me. I got my wish, but it happened much later than past me wanted and in a way I hadn’t intended, and it does me more service now than it would have then. I mean, I know there’s the extra caveat of him hoping it will get him laid, but in reality, it pushes him even further away from that than he was to begin with, which was already pretty dang far. I guess in his mind, he thinks there’s a chance I could eventually want him again, or at least enough to sleep with him, but that chance is zero. If I decided I’m done with someone, that means I spent a long time thinking over the situation, how I’m being treated, how I feel about them, who they really are as a person, our relationship and dynamic, if it’s actually really love or something else, what a future with them would look like, etc etc etc. I don’t make decisions like this lightly; I look from every angle and leave no stone unturned, so when I decide I’m done, that means I’m done. For good. Forever. Scott does not know this, but as I’ve said, I haven’t given him a single reason to hope. He’s decided on his own that something could still possibly happen in the future. When he left, he told me to not be a stranger and that we should catch up again soon. I don’t plan on that, but I was happy with how things went, oddly enough. I didn’t really want to see him, but the fact that I did and that I was able to set a clear boundary made me happy, and I felt a sort of completion around the situation. No doubt he’s still going to contact me (he already has lol), but I don’t feel worried or annoyed by it anymore. I’m happy with my decision, restated my boundary with a lot more confidence than last time (not that I should have had to repeat it though), and I feel like I can look forward now without having to worry too much about this. I didn’t feel unsafe, though I figured I wouldn’t, but I wanted to take some extra precautions just in case since I do live alone.

It’s funny because a few years ago when Scott and I still worked together, I had reached a place of complete acceptance with the situation and was able to be completely content with what it was without needing any answers. It was actually during that time that I think we formed a pretty decent friendship, and that’s when I felt we did best. At the time, I thought that what I was feeling was only because of how I was able to find my peace with everything, but looking back now, I think it’s also because that was just where we thrived best together: in a friendship. I’m not going to actively work at being his friend now, especially because I know he still has hopes that I’ll change my mind (I won’t) and something will happen (it won’t), but at least right now, I don’t need to block him or cut him off, which means I don’t feel in danger or like I’m being harassed. However, I don’t like that he still treats me like I’m stupid. I know why he is suddenly making such an effort and doing a total 180 in how he’s treating me. I saw it immediately and haven’t fallen for it for a second, so the fact that he thinks I might actually fall for this is a bit insulting to my intelligence. I’m sure some of it is actually genuine, like him saying he’d like to be friends regardless, which is fine, but just don’t insult me in the process, dude. Also, if he continues to not respect my decision and tries to pressure me, I will block him and cut him off. He can be my friend, he just needs to accept that nothing more will come of it.

Anyway, I feel like I was able to work through that finally. I’ve also been working on some of the past trauma from him, though I had to put a lot of that on hold because of everything that went on this year. I know I can’t move forward until it no longer has such a strong effect on me. I think how I handled the situation now says a lot. When he tried to come back last year, I was anxious, emotional, and very uncomfortable with having to handle the situation and tell Scott I didn’t want to try again. I was still processing a lot of past trauma and while I was positive about not wanting to be with him, I was afraid of hurting him. This time was so different!! I 100% put myself first, and I didn’t feel an ounce of guilt for stating what I wanted and not compromising where I shouldn’t. Growing up in an abusive household where there was a lack of boundaries and respect instilled a false belief in me that caring about how I’m treated is wrong and that attempting to do so is insulting and harmful to the other person. I do still have to deal with this from time to time, but I handle it much better now, and I hope I only continue to grow in that regard. I am 32 years old and still learning to untangle the web of lies that abuse taught me, but here I am, fucking doing it and making so much progress with it. I’m so proud of myself.

So now I’m going to unsmoothly segway into talking about Chris now. This poor guy lol. Anytime I write a personal post on here he ends up in it, and he doesn’t even talk to me. Sorry, Chris, but you’re still on my mind. Some of this is also actually relevant to what I was just talking about though so I’m going to start with that. So back in November when I had my last appointment with him, I struggled a lot. I felt I did some things fairly well, but when it came to flirting and asking if he was single, I failed. If I had to choose a physical representation of it, it would be someone falling flat on their face, trying to get up, then falling again and conceding to lay there till it was over. Chris has no way of knowing why I couldn’t. I mean, if he happened to guess, I’d be very impressed. Back when I worked with Scott, it was difficult. I was unknowingly flirting with a married man for months, who flirted back with me, and then after I found out he was married I was mortified. We ended up on friendly terms and then I developed feelings for him. We stayed friendly and I would talk to him all the time at work. He would start flirting with me again and then I’d naively think maybe something was going on, maybe he separated from his wife or was going through a divorce, so I’d flirt back. Then after several weeks of that, nothing would happen, he’d never bring anything up, so I’d ask him what was going on and he’d tell me nothing, he was married, it is what it is, this can never go anywhere. Then I’d get upset and mad that I fell for it, stop talking to him for a while, and then the cycle would repeat. There was one period where I accepted I wasn’t going to get answers (I mentioned it above) and so we were just friends and nothing more, and that was really the only good, healthy period we had. That was like the second half of 2019 up until he left in October 2020, of course with most of 2020 being working from home. Other than that, it was mostly turmoil, and mostly for me. I was 26 when everything started, and Scott was 44. I kept placing my trust in an older man to do the right thing and to not come into work and flirt with me unless he was available, but I was really naive. I talked to him because I wanted to, not because I expected anything to happen, which I didn’t want anyway unless his marriage broke off, but when he would flirt with me again, it would give me false hope that something could actually happen. I always felt such extreme guilt every time too, knowing that once more I was pursuing a married man who was leading me on while his wife had no idea about any of it. I still carry guilt from my actions during that time, because had I known from the beginning that he was married, I would’ve never looked again in his direction. I was so ashamed of myself for so long because I had a choice to say, “No, this cannot continue, I cannot trust this man unless he gives me an explicit reason that I can”, but instead, I chose to keep trusting. I chose to keep flirting. I have worked through some of that shame and guilt, but not all of it. I recognize that I did try over and over again to not interact with him and to avoid him, but his office door was literally 5 feet from my cubicle, which made it hard. To be clear, I never would have had an affair or taken it outside the office at all. He did bring that up fairly early on during a period when I wasn’t pissed off about things, and I told him I did not want to have an affair with him and he agreed. Now that I think about it, I wonder if his answer was dependent on mine though. This scenario kind of happened again after we reconnected back in May/June of 2021. Since he and his wife had separated recently, he made it clear he didn’t want to enter anything new, no dating or romantic partnership until later down the line, but he wasn’t sure about sexual, so he left that up to me to think about. When I told him no, he agreed, but I was never sure if his response would’ve been different if I had said yes.

Anyway, continuing…I felt very stuck, and it was something I brought up all the time in therapy. I didn’t know how to get unstuck. I was only a temp at my job at the time, and I didn’t have health insurance or any time off. NJ didn’t enact the statewide mandate that all employees must be given at least 2 sick days a year until the same month I was finally hired permanently, so if I took any time off, I didn’t get paid for it. (I just looked it up to confirm the date it was enacted to make sure I had it right, and apparently it’s 40 hours now that are mandatory, which is cool they improved the policy!!) I worked a second job and still lived paycheck-to-paycheck. I couldn’t afford to spend more than $20-$30 a week on groceries, which included toiletries and cleaning supplies. I had to stop paying my electric bill because I couldn’t afford it and I needed the shut-off notice to get assistance to help pay for the bill, which thankfully covered several months and also covered my past-due amounts. My apartment was old and shitty, but it was the only place that was affordable for me at the time. My first year there was $715 a month then the 2nd year was $740. It was definitely a health hazard though: the carpets were musty despite several cleanings; there was water damage in the wall and on the ceiling; the water damage on the ceiling was above my bed, which I couldn’t move anywhere else, and kept forming mold that my complex just kept painting over; the front door wasn’t fit right so there were huge gaps between the door and the frame; the water heater would switch to cold after only 5 or 10 minutes in the shower; and the heating system was so old that in the winter it cost me $200+ just to heat my tiny little 400 square foot studio apartment (it was all electric). I couldn’t interview for other jobs because that meant I wouldn’t get paid if I took time off and then that meant I’d have to stress even more over what bill wouldn’t get paid or if I’d have to eat even less than my 2 meals a day. I had to make sure my cat and guinea pig were fed before I fed myself. At my other job, I worked Sunday brunches, which were the most stressful and busiest shifts, so no other hostess wanted to partner with working on them let alone working it by themselves, which often led to me working the whole shift by myself, and I took up other shifts if I had the time or energy to. My mental health was not great and was only made worse by my life circumstances, and I had to go on a second anxiety medication for a while to stop my anxiety attacks.

I wanted to be out of the situation with Scott, even if that meant leaving to go work someplace else, but I was already doing everything I could and I still couldn’t find a way out without jeopardizing my well-being even further. Moving back in with my mom, which was something I eventually did and regretted, was not an option for me because I worked really hard to get out of the abusive household I grew up in. I say all of this not as an excuse but for context. And for forgiveness. I look back at my younger self and she was dealing with so much stress. My basic needs were not even being fully met, but I continued to show up and to handle things in the best ways I could, and sometimes the decisions I made weren’t actually good ones at all. Still though, I kept believing in people, I kept hoping for the best and trusting, and I was actually really grateful for my life at the time, probably even more so than I am now. I didn’t have much, but I had my own place, my own life, freedom, and that was always something I held onto, even during the worst of things. I tried desperately to find a way to let go of my feelings for Scott, but I couldn’t help how I felt because I kept choosing to see the best while ignoring the rest. It took me a very long time to realize Scott was not the one for me and that he wasn’t the type of person I wanted as my romantic partner. I didn’t accept him fully, flaws and all, and we were not compatible in the ways we needed to be. I wouldn’t have been happy if we did get together, but unfortunately I didn’t see all of that until after he left my work, separated from his wife, and reached out to me on Instagram to connect again and start what would eventually become a “situationship” between us. Still, I’m glad I saw it sooner rather than later and before it devolved into an actual romantic relationship. 

So when I could feel myself hesitation the first time and then shaking the second time when I went to ask Chris if he was single, it was from that past period of my life. I saw it all flash in my mind immediately: all the times I confronted Scott and the answers I got back, and all of the sureness and trust I felt about Chris was immediately squashed by those images. I wrote about a bunch of parallels in my post after my appointment with him, but I wanted to dive a bit deeper into that here in a broader sense. Man at his work flirting with me. Check. Man makes it known he’s interested, then doesn’t take it anywhere. Check. Man offers no explanation whatsoever for that. Check. Man does not willingly mention his relationship status. Check. Man is cautious about what information he gives about himself and words things so that while he can respond, he never actually reveals anything about himself or his life. Check. In someone else’s mind, those might just be indicators of someone who is reserved, guarded, private, whatever. In my mind, those checks are potential red flags. Those checked boxes come with the thoughts, “Oh no, am I going to flirt with an unavailable man again? Am I going to get caught in a similar situation that causes me a lot of duress and emotional pain? Am I going to unwillingly be complicit in some man’s selfish attempts at getting attention from me?” Chris doesn’t know any of that. I felt disappointed in myself after my appointment, and I felt like I had probably disappointed him too, though I don’t know for sure. If I had the chance to tell him why, I would, even if I had to sum it up briefly. I mean, I guess I could just say how I was in a situation with someone before where they weren’t trustworthy and it affected me more than I realized. Turns out traumatic things actually traumatize you. Who knew? 🙃 That’s assuming it’s even necessary for me to explain, since I have no idea at this point if Chris is still interested. He hasn’t brought up the date, and I have tried to initiate meeting up twice with no luck. I’m willing to be patient and wait, but I don’t know exactly what it is I’m waiting for. Is there really a possibility this can go somewhere, or am I being duped again? I didn’t reach out for 2 ½ months, but then last weekend I texted him, and it took several days for us to send only a few messages. He only responded once or twice a day, and then he did that thing again where he told me to have a wonderful day at the end of his message, then when I responded back with a bit more, he never responded back. I still don’t know how to take that. He did say he’s been getting sick like every other week, which is weird cuz that’s exactly what happened to me in the beginning of the year, so I can understand he may not be up for talking to anyone or even checking his phone at all, but I don’t know if that’s what it was or not. I don’t mind slow responses, but it would help to know what was going on and where I stand. Otherwise, it confuses me and I don’t know what to make of it.

I also don’t know if I’m being too impatient? He gave me his number last May and didn’t mention going on a date until December. Obviously, with how this year has gone just for me alone, not including him being sick and whatever else he has going on, nothing could have really happened since he mentioned the date. Maybe I’m being too hopeful? I don’t know 😕 I also don’t know if I have worked through what I needed to regarding Scott, because I have nothing to trigger it. That time of my life when we worked together was triggered only when an outside catalyst brought it up, one that placed me back in a moment that was similar and reminded me of it. The only way I’ll really know for sure that I’ve overcome all of this and am ready to step forward without the past holding me back is when I’m with Chris. There’s no one else I’m interested in, I’m rarely ever into anyone anyway, I don’t like random dating, and I have no interest in hooking up with random people, so there is literally not a single other person who can do this. I can’t know on my own; I can only do the work and hope that I’ve made progress with it and healed from it. At this point, I guess I’ll find out soon enough if I can pursue Chris without old baggage weighing me down since my appointment is coming up. I know I will still probably have some trepidations and fears that pop up, but as long as the most traumatic things are taken care of, I can push through all the other stuff.

I had my yearly appointment with the oral surgeon scheduled for the 15th of this month to make sure the dense spot in my jaw bone hasn’t grown, but he won’t be in that day so it got pushed back to the 29th. My next cleaning with Chris is scheduled for 2 ½ weeks later on May 16th. I feel nervous even thinking about it. At my last appointment I wasn’t sure what to expect since over the course of 6 months he only reached out to me 2 or 3 times, and after a while I gave up on reaching out to him because I was confused. I was determined to see him during this current time frame before my next appointment, but it looks like that isn’t going to happen. I feel like I’m going to really put myself out there and take some risks when my appointment does come around. Nothing is moving along, which I know we’re both contributing to, so I want to at least feel good knowing that I did my part, and I don’t feel that way yet. So far, I’ve relied on past trauma and doubt to take the lead more than I’ve allowed the present and trust to do so, and I want to flip that now. I have been trying not to think about everything with Chris that has been shouting “GREEN FLAG!!” at me because a lot of it isn’t logical but rather intuitive and spiritual, but I think that those places are where the answer actually lies. Overthinking gets me nowhere, so I have to stop letting it be an option. I can still be cautious, but not to a degree where it is detrimental to anything happening at all.

Aside from past trauma interfering there’s definitely been a few other things that have contributed to my lack of pursuit here. In general, I never know how people perceive me. I have always felt like I come off as unlikable, so even when people tell me good things about myself, I struggle to hold onto those things and believe in them. I’ve been trying to shift that because I know that is a belief I hold and not necessarily one that is true. I’m sure there have been people who genuinely have not liked me as a person, but with 8 billion people in the world, odds are at least some of them do or will like me. I mean, I do have friends and the one and only yoga class I teach at the moment continues to get a lot of students, so that all has to say something. I think a big part of that belief I hold also stems from childhood trauma, but I can’t remember when it started. For as long as I can remember, it feels like I’ve always felt that way about myself. So when Chris literally doesn’t talk to me, takes a whole day to respond when I reach out, and then hasn’t actually planned the date that he brought up months ago, I just assume the worst. Logically, I know there could be a whole host of other reasons that might not have anything to do with me, or maybe even something else that does, but it’s hard for me to shake off how I’ve thought about myself for pretty much my entire life. So in my mind, a quick assumption that pops up is that I’m bothering Chris when he wants nothing to do with me. I don’t want to place any assumptions or expectations on him, but untangling those is difficult and is taking longer than I would like them to. This is something that I actually personally started working on years ago, and while it might not be apparent, I’ve made a TON of progress with it. I used to be a lot worse with it, but I still have some ways to go. I know that it’s my responsibility to find peace within myself no matter what external circumstances look like. Anway, back to the other stuff. There’s also been the other things that have been taking forever, like feeling at peace with the Scott situation, which I feel like has finally freaking happened, and then personal accountability I have with other things, like my ADD, which I’m still working on finding the right medication for. I have to remind myself though that it’s okay to be a work-in-progress. I tend to be in this “Everything needs to be perfect before anything can happen” mindset (with everything, not just romance), but in reality, things will never be perfect. If anything is ever 100% perfect and nothing is going wrong, it won’t last forever. Even the bad stuff doesn’t. The person meant for me won’t care and will want to handle all our messes together. But first I have to show up and be willing to tackle all those things on my own to the best of my abilities. I think I have been doing that, but I need to expand it a bit more to everything, and not just the more immediate things. My mental health struggles don’t make it any easier, but that only means I have to be more gentle and understanding with myself while continuing to work towards finding solutions, that’s all.

I’ve also struggled with that aspect of forgiving myself for past mistakes, not just the ones I made regarding Scott but with other things as well. I wonder why I deserve the relationship and connection I desire, what makes me so great and special as to receive it, and whether I’m even worthy of someone looking at me and knowing that I’m it for them. I wrote about this in my daily poem the other night. It was about a bunch of stuff but Chris was included in it. I’m not going to post the actual wording of what I wrote because I’m not ready to share that poem yet, even though that particular section is my favorite within the whole piece, but essentially what I said was how being with Chris would be like accepting forgiveness for myself. I want that, I just haven’t fully gotten there yet, and I’m not sure whether it needs to be mostly complete before anything can happen or if it’s okay that it remains a bit of a work-in-progress if and after things do get rolling. I’m hoping for the latter. I know it might sound kind of crazy that I fear forgiveness, but that is really what it is at its core: fear. I am tired of fear. I know that it’s a survival mechanism that kicks in and so I will never be able to be completely rid of certain ones, but I can at least shift my relationship with it. Taking a page out of Elizabeth Gilbert’s Big Magic here in saying that fear will always be in the car, but I do not need to let it steer the wheel or even sit in the passenger seat. It can stay in the backseat where it holds no control. I’m afraid of making the wrong choices again with someone and of getting myself in a similar situation as before, but that fear isn’t going to get me closer to anyone; it’s only going to keep me alone and afraid. I asked myself what is the worst that could happen if I do end up in the same situation, and the outcome was honestly not that bad. At the worst, I’d block Chris, find a new dentist office, and work on healing again. I could be grateful that it isn’t exactly the same as before, that I have more agency and options now and am not stuck like how I was in my situation with Scott, and that me being deceived would only say something bad about Chris and not me. Of course I'll be really disappointed, and I might also struggle with trusting myself and relying on my gut to tell me if someone is trustworthy, but I can work through all of that with time. When I take a look at all of that, it’s really not that bad. Yes, it would suck, but I’d get through it. Even as I write this though, I don’t think any of that will come to fruition. When I question and second-guess everything, asking the “what ifs” and doing the whole comparison thing, that fear builds in my chest and I think about how I can’t do this, I must be crazy to think that I can trust that trusting feeling that I feel with Chris. But when I close my eyes and take a moment to think clearly about Chris, letting myself remember his energy - the curiosity, comfort, warmth, gentleness, brightness, and pureness of it - that is when I know. That is when the truth of who he is makes itself known. I will never find the truth of him by looking at someone else’s actions, words, and energy. I will never find Chris by looking back at my relationship with someone else. I can only find Chris in Chris. I can only find any truth about what is going on by looking at my experiences with him and him alone. That is a very difficult and enormous shift I have been trying to make, but despite the doubts that creep into my mind, I believe that I can do it and that it is possible. Yes, I have to keep in mind that I could be wrong about him, but right now I am not giving enough energy to the thought that I could be right. 

When I had last year’s appointment with the oral surgeon, I was also kind of in the same space, but it was only about whether or not Chris was interested in me. I didn’t really have much to go off of except 3 things: he did a double-take when he saw me, he was asking me questions that I was sure he was not asking everyone else (or at least with the same intention), and I just had an overall feeling. Well, okay, there was a bunch of other stuff, but I meant things that are a bit more tangible, I guess you could say. I’ve never been wrong in my life about someone being interested in me, I always just know, but I was accepting of the possibility that I could be wrong this time. I had told both of my best friends about everything, and it was kind of similar to what was going on in my head: Stacy was really supportive, said he was definitely into me, and that I should go for it, while Amanda said I could be reading things wrong, that intuition can’t always be trusted, and that it wasn’t enough to go off of. It’s funny cuz Amanda and I tend to have more views in common than Stacy and I do, but I ended up taking the more positive route, the one that Stacy supported. Amanda also is not very optimistic on the romantic front whereas I am, so this is something that we differ a lot on. I also don’t believe that intuition ever lies. For me, there’s always been a very strong distinction between emotions, thoughts, and intuition, so while I was still open to being wrong, I decided to trust my intuition more than my mind. Then when I was at my appointment with the oral surgeon, as soon as I crossed paths with Chris and our eyes met, I knew instantly that he was going to give me his number, and at my next appointment, he did. I have not been wrong about anything so far, and I’ve been trying to trust myself more, open my intuitive capabilities even wider, and I can’t do that if I’m always in my head about things. This one poem by Erin Hanson popped into my head and it feels relevant here: “There is freedom waiting for you, On the breezes of the sky, And you ask "What if I fall?" Oh but my darling, What if you fly?” I keep asking myself over and over, “What if I’m wrong?” but then there’s also a voice that follows it and asks, “But what if I’m right?” I won’t know unless I take a chance. I have always taken chances on the wrong people, and I don’t want that to deter me from trying again, because then I could miss out on the right person. I have to try. If I’m wrong, then I’ll deal with that when the time comes, and at least I can say that I tried and took a chance. If I’m right, then my life could possibly be changed forever.

I have tried so hard not to have hopes, because hope always brought me disappointment, but before, I only thought I knew, when in reality I was ignoring the actual knowing voice. This is different. I don't think I know, I do know. I've always known, and I've tried not to know. It's the opposite of how it's always been. If I trust this, it could potentially have a different outcome than all those other times too. I’ve been questioning and second-guessing and doubting, when deep down inside I’m being told to trust. I can’t predict the outcome of this situation, but I know I can trust whatever this is, and I need to lean into that without any more hesitation. I know. I know it’s safe to trust this. I read a lot of comics/manhwas in the Webtoon app, and right now I’ve been trying to read completed ones so I can focus more on current ones, and one I’m reading right now is called Aerial Magic. It’s about a young witch who can’t read spells, and she had trouble finding an apprenticeship that would take her. She applied to over 400 different places, and only 1 responded, which is the place she’s apprenticing at. While on the phone with her dad, she said she got lucky, and her dad responded that she was dismissing her hard work and that “It isn’t luck that you found the right person. It’s because you kept on reaching out and you refused to stop until you found someone who reached back.” How many people give up? How many people settle? How many people stop trying to grow and do better, or think there’s a limit to how much they’re able to improve, or believe it’s only the other person who needs to be improving and doing the work? I have never given up on myself and what I know I can have and is possible for me. Despite any doubts or perceived limitations, whether from myself or others, I’ve always pushed through. I may move slowly, but I never stop moving. All of my previous failed attempts at finding my person were stepping stones. I let those people and situations rip me apart, and then I put myself back together again, even when I didn’t want to do it. The thought that I have to has always driven me. I’ve never seen any other choice. When I looked at myself and adjusted to the newness of who I was with those pieces put back together, I realized that I somehow was more beautiful and more resilient. I grew, and while those growing pains hurt, they never stopped me. Growth is never easy, and more often than not the most growth comes from the hardest circumstances, but it’s necessary if we want to become our best selves. The growth we are looking for doesn’t come without the sacrifice of our own ease and comfort. We must go through it and heal it, and then we come out better for it. 

Also, things I’ve felt and experienced with Chris have never happened before. There’s been a lot, and I wrote about some of them in past posts, although now that I’m thinking about it, some of it I might not have actually posted. I never made my one private post public, made a second private post I also never made public and then forgot about, and I started a Google docs draft writing about a ton of stuff last year that I never finished or posted, so some things I think I posted might not be on here. Oops lol I like to have all my stuff in one place, but whatever. I know certain things I definitely didn’t write about, but there’s less of those than ones I did write about. Anyway, my point is, I’m skipping that to write about something else I haven’t yet, or at least haven’t written about in great detail. It’s Chris’s energy, and how I can sense it. I’ve always been able to pick up on other people’s energies, like the essence of who they are, to a certain degree, but mostly I just feel emotions coming off of people, especially strong ones. I’m not sure if everyone is like that? I used to think so, until I was watching some astrology reel on Youtube not too long ago and of course a bunch of grown ass men who think they’re amazing for shitting on people’s interests that have nothing to do with them infiltrated the comment section. One of the comment threads was how people don’t give off “energy” and that there’s no such thing, from a scientific perspective, which didn’t sound right to me cuz I thought science literally explained how everything was energy, but sure go off, dude, whatever. That really confused me cuz I thought I was in my head a lot but maybe there are people so disconnected from themselves that they literally do not pick up on these types of things. Anyway, people I am closer with or was close with at one point have stronger energies to me. But ummm I’ve never felt anyone’s energy as strongly as I feel Chris’s. Especially considering I have only met him a handful of times, so it shouldn’t be that way. It was actually the first thing I noticed about him. I mean, he did have a mask on, but even then, I’ve been to plenty of doctors or other health places where they wear masks the whole time, and this has not happened with any of them. I remember the two times I was there before my first appointment with Chris, he was up at the front desk with his mask on, and both times he said we had similar last names. He didn’t look at me either time when he said it, just kind of tilted his head toward his right shoulder in my direction, and I didn’t think anything in particular about him; I only remember feeling curious, but even that wasn’t something I noticed consciously until later, so I quickly forgot about it each time. At my first appointment, I remember he did a double-take, and I didn’t look at him as a natural self-defense mechanism, but when I got back to the room with him, my defense was gone. That doesn’t happen. I always remember to keep it up, no matter what is going on around me. I didn’t even notice I had dropped it when I was with Chris. When I walked into the room behind him, he asked if I wanted him to hang my bag up for me, which I declined. That’s when my first impression of him hit: he was warm and bright. Not just because of his gesture, but his whole being. I felt the warmth and I saw this glow around him. I was thinking earlier about how I am virtually unphased by a lot of things that should probably phase me. This moment - well, my entire first appointment tbh - should have been one of those moments. Even at all my other appointments, there are things I have no logical explanation for and yet, I have remained nothing but calm and collected during all of it. Honestly, now that I’m thinking about it again, that is so insane haha. 

I wasn’t going to write about this other thing, but since I probably already sound like I’m off my rocker, might as well just keep going a bit longer. Okay so, Chris’s eyes. I don’t know if he believes me cuz I’ve only ever commented on his eyes after he’s said something about mine, but asdfghjkl. I lose my absolute MIND over his eyes. This is going to be so freeing to write about. I can feel it. Okay so yeah, at my first appointment I only looked into his eyes once. It was when he was shocked I said I was 30 and I turned my head to look at him. His brown eyes were wide in disbelief. In that moment, I felt like 100 different things. I didn’t look long, but when I turned my head back, I had this strange sort of feeling. Well, first, I corrected myself by saying I was actually 31, and then I remember feeling some sort of weird intensity I had never felt before. I didn’t know what it was, so I felt embarrassed and didn’t look into his eyes again the rest of my time there. Later though, I figured it out. Chris’s eyes are so deep, yet still so bright. There is a depth there that seems to go on endlessly, like an entire other universe, and I wanted to know what was there. That was what I felt embarrassed about, but I couldn’t figure it out at that moment. I had no idea because I had never felt that before. I felt like I wanted to explore everything behind those eyes. I also felt seen and understood, which made no sense to me because there was nothing to see or understand. Maybe in general, like me as a person overall, but not in that particular moment. I still feel all of this when I look into his eyes, and after my last appointment with him, a few times when I was looking in the mirror, I had to do a double-take because I kept seeing his eyes before I saw my own. I know, I sound so psycho 😭 I wish I didn’t. I wish I had some sort of explanation, but I don’t. All I have is all this stuff that has happened and all the things I have felt, and this isn’t even the craziest of it. I still haven’t written about one thing that happened because it wouldn’t be fair to not tell Chris first, though that may never happen anyway. Maybe this is all nothing. Maybe this is…fake? Not real? A blip in the universe? Well - many blips in the universe? I can’t even take any guesses because what am I supposed to even guess at? He’s still just my dental hygienist and I’m still just his patient. There’s no relationship to comment on, little progress to point to, and barely any further interaction to make this stuff feel more tangible and less like I’m a little psychopath. There’s literally nothing to even guess at because these weird little things are all that exist from this. I can’t even talk to Chris about it because he doesn’t talk to me 😑😑😑 These intangible things are all I have. They’re all that’s really tethering me to trust because in the physical world, everything only points to confusion and doubt. This is all I have. I’m either being spiritually led in the direction of something really great, or I have some sort of serious brain injury that only makes itself known in Chris’s presence. I don’t think there’s anything in-between that would rationalize all of this stuff that I’ve seen and experienced.

That brings me around to what I’m going to do. First, I have to decide what I’m willing to live with: the pain of being used again or the pain of missing out. I already know which option I’m going to choose though, and I know what I’m going to do about it. Just like this time last year, I’m going to take the approach of seeing how Chris responds to me at my appointment with the oral surgeon. I assume we’ll cross paths like we have at all my other appointments. If it’s negative, sucks for me, and the result will probably be me crying when I get home because it does not take much to make me cry lol. If it’s positive, great, I plan to make some moves during my next appointment with him. I may have lost my chance at this point, but I’m hoping I haven’t. If I haven’t, awesome, I plan to treat my next appointment with him as a pivotal point in regards to whether things progress or not. So far, Chris has really put himself out there. He’s taken chances on me and I really haven’t responded positively back to him. I mean, I guess you could say the same for me taking chances on him in regards to trying to meet up and him not really responding great, but I’m not going to count that. I’m going to count in-person stuff only. I have roughly 5 weeks to: make sure I work through any lingering potential past romantic trauma that could interfere (this is also for myself too), come up with a coping plan in case something does come up, brush up on my flirting skills so I don’t freeze in the moment (tbh idk how I’m going to do this, maybe in the meantime just keep taking mental notes of all the stuff I like about Chris and hope it helps me seize an opportune moment to be flirty when the time comes), and continue to prioritize my mental health so I don’t get overwhelmed and overstimulated by all the excitement, which will also help with the flirting aspect. That….is a small list but actually a huge load of stuff to take care of in a month’s time. Anyway!! I’m still going to hope for the best. The other stuff doesn’t have to be 100% dealt with, but my #1 priority is making sure Chris feels good and that I make it apparent that “Yes I am into you and I’m sorry I’ve been struggling so much to show you that!!”. Well, I can leave out the apology bit, but yeah, the first part gets a thumbs up. Maybe that’s why Chris hasn’t initiated anything. Maybe he thinks I’m not that interested or only in it for self-gain, neither of which are true at all. I struggle a lot. I struggle with so many things and then I suck at articulating and explaining myself. In fact, when I do try to articulate or explain, I somehow always end up making things worse. It’s better for me to just wipe the slate clean, start fresh, and then hope that if he asks about something I can explain without embarrassing myself further. Maybe he wants me to ask about our date, but since he’s the one that brought it up in the first place, I feel kinda weird asking “So uhhh our date?” Maybe I’m overthinking all of this and it really is as simple as: if he’s not reaching out, then he’s not interested or is just fucking with me for whatever reason. 

I’m tired, man. I’m tired of always being in a place of always waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for the pain. Waiting to be treated poorly. Waiting for the betrayal. Waiting for the anger. Waiting to be told or shown how I’m not enough. I think to myself, Who will not make me flinch? This all goes way beyond Scott; a large part of my experiences with men, for a majority of my life, have not been positive. Some have even been dangerously negative. I think a part of me is always going to have some fear about being hurt until I’m with someone who doesn’t hurt me in big ways, and the little ones they work with me on and try to make up for. I will gladly give them the same in return. I’m never going to find that person unless I take a chance on them. I want to take the chance on someone who is worth it, and I feel that Chris is. I want my choices in life to reflect that I didn’t give up, that I kept believing in something higher and took the steps I needed in order to actualize that higher life for myself, even if I did so imperfectly with mistakes along the way.

I had a bunch of other stuff I was going to write about but I’ve already been coming back to this over the course of two weeks and it’s getting too long, so I’ll end here for now.

Umm Chris if somehow you’ve found my anonymous blog, which I’m hoping you haven’t, I apologize if any of this sounded weird or made you uncomfortable 😭 Feel free to never talk to me again if that’s the case. If not, see you in a few weeks 🥰

#here's the novel no one asked for #personal #chris #idk what else to tag #i feel bad only tagging chris aside from personal lol #my overthinking strikes again #even in the tags #whomp whomp

[girlactionfigure]

She knew she was “different,” telling her brother at one point, “What makes a few of us so different from others? It’s a question I often ask myself.”

She wrote:

“If I can stop one heart from breaking,

I shall not live in vain;

If I can ease one life the aching,

Or cool one pain,

Or help one fainting robin

Unto his nest again,

I shall not live in vain.”

She was born on December 10, 1830. She was labeled very, very shy, overly sensitive.

“Her Victorian upbringing included . . . doing domestic chores, and attending church. She spent her adolescent years studying locally at the Amherst Academy (1834–47) and at the Mount Holyoke Seminary (1847–48). Beginning at age 23, however, [she] began to withdraw from society and by the age of thirty, she became a relative recluse, spending most of her days indoors,” according to the Brooklyn Museum.

Some would say she became reclusive due either to her upbringing or from suffering from some type of illness such as agoraphobia (a disorder characterized by symptoms of anxiety in which the person afflicted perceives environments outside of the home to be uncomfortable or unsafe) or epilepsy. She was actually diagnosed during her lifetime as having "nervous prostration."

Although she had a brother and sister, she confided that her only companions were the hills, "the sundown, and a dog large as myself, that my father bought me. They are better than beings because they know, but do not tell."

There were rumors, however, that she may have loved her sister-in-law.

Many have also said she was preoccupied with death and dying, telling stories of the many people close to her who either left her or died. She would go through depressions, especially after the death of someone close, lamenting, "The Dyings have been too deep for me, and before I could raise my Heart from one, another has come."

In those instances, she would simply retreat to her room and disappear in her own little world.

No one knew what she was doing, some said she would sit for hours just writing in her notebook, about what, no one really knew.

When she finally died unknown to the rest of the world, of illness at the age of 55, at her request, her "coffin [was] not driven but carried through fields of buttercups."

Her sister had promised her she would burn all her correspondence, but she discovered a locked chest full of notebooks with nearly eighteen hundred poems. To honor her, her sister put a collection together and published the poems, one of which read:

“'Hope' is the thing with feathers -

That perches in the soul -

And sings the tune without the words -

And never stops - at all -

And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -

And sore must be the storm -

That could abash the little Bird

That kept so many warm -

I’ve heard it in the chillest land -

And on the strangest Sea -

Yet - never - in Extremity,

It asked a crumb - of me."

~~~~~

“Shy but rebellious, recluse but unapologetic and independent – she was Emily Dickinson,” wrote Rudrani Gupta in She The People.

Emily Dickinson was born 192 years ago today.

The Peace Page has shared several stories of Emily Dickinson in the past, sharing her words and her influence. This is a new story with new insights celebrating one of the world’s favorite poets. The Jon S. Randal Peace Page focuses on past and present stories seldom told of lives forgotten, ignored, or dismissed. The stories are gathered from writers, journalists, and historians to share awareness and foster understanding. You can find more stories in the Peace Page archives. We encourage you to learn more about the individuals mentioned here and to support the writers, educators, and historians whose words we present.

~~~~~

“Throughout the nineteenth century, the nation obsessed over male authors like they were rockstars. Men like Poe, Thoreau, and Hawthorne were often seen as brooding, conflicted, and emotionally damaged,” wrote Allie Little. “They played up a persona of living separate from society or suffering for the sake of their writing. At the same time, the United States had a handful of women authors being published and spread throughout the nation, but they weren’t often granted the fame and acclaim their male counterparts were. Famous American poet Emily Dickinson wrote actively during this time period, but the world never knew of her talent.”

“Emily Dickinson is considered one of the most famous poets in the history of American literature,” according to the Brooklyn Museum. “Though socially shy, she was outspoken and emotional in her lyric poetry (short poems with one speaker who expresses thought and feeling), defying the nineteenth-century expectation that women were to be demure and obedient to men. Her honest and uninhibited writing made her an early feminist voice, even as she maintained an outward appearance of submissiveness. Nearly two centuries after Dickinson’s birth, her witty and frequently subversive poems are widely read, taught, and studied.”

Little wrote:

“Being from an influential family, Emily and her siblings, Austin and Lavinia, were taught to prioritize education. Emily excelled as a student at Amherst Academy, and often attended lectures at Amherst College despite women not being allowed to enroll. As seen in her poetry, her brain absorbed information like a sponge. Her areas of interest included chemistry, botany, entomology, astronomy, and various other natural sciences. It was this study of the natural world that helped Emily put into words specific emotions that were difficult to explain in poetry.

“It was after her time in the Seminary that her reclusive habits grew. Leaving Mt. Holyoke marked the end of her formal schooling. Despite her desire to continue her education, this was the time in many young girls’ lives that they would find a husband and take on the role of housewife and mother. Meanwhile, in a letter to a friend, Emily wrote, “God keep me from what they call households.” Clearly not the housewife-type, Emily Dickinson never sought the attention of a man and had seemingly no desire to leave her father’s home to become a maid in another. Instead, Emily spent her time being a mediator and confidant for her siblings and parents.”

“Busy about the house and garden, she began to write verse. The narrow boundaries of “woman’s sphere” were deadly limitations for many women,” according to the National Women’s Hall of Fame.

“Somehow Dickinson found within herself the imaginative resources to exceed and shatter such boundaries. Although untaught and virtually unpublished during her lifetime, she became one of the greatest poets in the English language.”

“The world would not realize Dickinson’s true artistic talent until after her death,” according to the Brooklyn Museum. “After her death in 1886, her sister Lavinia uncovered almost a thousand of Dickinson’s poems bound with thread into numerous booklets.”

“Emily Dickinson died at the age of 55 in the same house she was raised in,” wrote Little. “At the time of her death, only seven of the nearly 1,800 poems she wrote in her lifetime had been published, and all of them were published anonymously. Few people in her hometown of Amherst, Massachusetts knew what she looked like, and her talent for poetry was whispered around town like a local legend rather than applauded and praised.”

~~~~~

Gupta writes:

“This American poet’s poems and distinct lifestyle as a woman embodied feminism at the time when it was still beginning to gain momentum. The most important characteristic of her poems and personal life was the affirmation of a woman’s identity, independence and agency over her life.

“Emily Dickinson was born in a family where the father was the patriarchal figure and women were expected to be confined to the kitchens. The gender roles were divided between men and women – men occupying the financial space while women were confined within marriage, religion, motherhood and domestic work.

“But what made Emily Dickinson defiant was her agency over her life, the right to have privacy and her vigour to challenge the dominant and regressive ideologies. She is known for living a recluse life, within her parental home, writing and challenging the social norms through her radical poems. She had privacy in her life which is a privilege for many women even today because a woman who is in love with seclusion or her own company will never allow any power to govern her life. How many women can opt to stay at her parents’ house, unmarried, throughout her life? How many women have the freedom even to choose not to marry and spend life in her own room drowned in her thoughts and passion?

“Emily Dickinson valued individuality and personal space which a woman in her time and even today are expected to sacrifice if she wants to get married and live a life of significance.

“She changed the definition of a loner woman, which has nothing to do with insufficiency to get married but to assert your territory and choices and be a true rebel.”

~ jsr

The Jon S. Randal Peace Page

#OTD #1830 #Emily Dickinson

[thinkdrinkandsink]

Faceless Archives - Joker

About a decade ago, I wrote a poem titled, "Faceless". It was addressed to an anonymous request received on ask.fm. Despite the occasional posts involving a public reveal of my face across the years, I actually quite dislike looking at the camera. There’s a great discomfort in unveiling the eyes. If I could go back, I'd have stayed eyeless and ambiguous for the remainder of my days. Most of the photos above have been archived periodically as I altered my appearance, and this post will probably be the only one left that houses them - a treat to the few who still keep up with me on here. Few, if any, could ever discern this, but the true inspiration behind the style of my shots came from the influences of a burlesque themed circus. I grew up admiring clowns and performers for most of my childhood, so becoming one in esoteric fashion was only a natural step for me. The Joker nickname bestowed by my peers several years ago bore no relation to the DC comics Joker. I encountered a cashier girl a little under a year ago at a burger joint, who genuinely gave an appreciation towards my aesthetic choices, whilst also making it terribly obvious that she was admiring me from afar - I felt seen for who I was. I met her again today and she still recognized me. We don't know the others' names, but we remembered each other despite the time lapse between our meeting. She reminded me of myself - reserved, wide-eyed with unkempt hair, and she sported 16 wonderful ear piercings (4 more than myself). She's one of the few I've encountered whose stare felt soul-piercing. We'll probably never see each other again, and in hindsight, I wish I asked for her name. My propensity for remaining emotionally withdrawn still prevents me from doing so - such is life. Happier days have only come because I've chosen to let go and become invisible every so often. There's nothing for me to prove to anyone anymore, and it's probably the closest to becoming faceless.

Anyway, cue - the intermission:

[athousandmorningss]

Serious walking wound energy today.

The new coffee shop is real nice: sweetheart employees and coffee that is light and smooth, not dark and bitter/strong. Posted up in a corner and read/annotated some pages of things. Y’all ever done some crying in a coffee shop? Cos I sure did: on and off for about two hours. Read Paul Tran’s Poem “The Three Graces” and: “how miraculous it is to exist./ To live beyond survival” encouraged tears.

I am also reading Heartbreak: A Persona and Scientific Journey by Florence Williams. It traces the physical and mental impacts of life after divorce. So much of it resonates. “My husband was gone,” she wrote. “So much unseemly, adolescent, self-involvement: daydreaming, journaling, wanting to lie around and listen deeply to music and tell all my friends exactly what was going on. It’s tempting to dismiss the mistiness of this time as juvenile spaciness, but there was something else to it. It was about the process of becoming. It was hard work. It demanded attention and space...you have to plunge back in the jar like a pickled kipper and cure some more. You have to become again” (p. 97).

Yeah. That part.

-

A thing I’ve been feeling a lot lately is piercing anxiety and the inability to relax. I was so tense at the coffee shop: whole body vibrating nervousness and tightness. The book I’m reading reminds me to pay attention to my body and to care for it.

-

The flowers I got are fragrant and stunning.

-

My Ub*r driver on the way home was an old woman, old enough that she lives in a retirement community, as described by her. She told me her husband of 40 years died a year ago. “We had a long run together. I tell him all of the time, that if he ever needs me to go to him, to just tell me” and she snapped her fingers. “I’ll be right there.”

Old people working beyond retirement breaks my heart. I tipped her a $15.00, a habit I’ve started to do as an easy means of recognition. I hope it helps her.

-

Pride was all fucked up this year. They put metal fences in places that were several feet away from the actual parade. So, you couldn’t actually see it or get close to it. There was no energy moving between the viewers: it was so quiet and weird.

There was also an old man holding a “got aids yet?” sign. In sweltering, near hundred degree heat. This old man risking heat stroke for THAT. I cried immediately when I saw it. That shit really, really hurt my feelings. But across the street was another group of people I think from a church, holding signs that read “we love you” and “we’re sorry you don’t feel welcome” and other beautiful sentiments. One of them was an old woman, prolly in her 60s or 70s. The high five exchanged between us and my “thank you” also made me want to cry.

I often think of Pride as “for them,” but it is also for me. I am decidedly not straight but carry a great deal of internalized homophobia.

-

Oli is showing signs of his age today: a real slow walking gate and sore movements. I’m going to buy him stairs to help him get onto the bed. And I’m not going out tonight, but will instead stay home and snuggle my boy and rub his tummy.

16 years with my dearest friend.

#love ethics #divorcin' diaries #tw homophobia

[deancaskiss]

Hey Bex, I'm looking for a post of yours from ages ago and I can't find it for the life of me and thought maybe you could help. It was a Destiel drabble where I think Dean wrote down notes to Cas (I don't remember the context, maybe it was in the aftermath of Cas' death) just like all his thoughts and prayers. And I used that concept in a fic I finished today (the one mentioned in today's post for your dreamy drabbles) and I wrote in the notes on Ao3 that the idea came from you, but now I went back and thought it would be so much better to actually link the post instead of just crediting you by name (esp since that changes sometimes lol) so yeah that's why I'm looking for it...

Hope you're having a lovely day!💙💚

Hi my love!

Oh goodness, that’s so so sweet that one of my drabbles inspired you and you used that concept in your fic! Thank you so much for taking the time and effort to credit me in the notes on ao3, that truly means the world to me! <3 thank you for reaching out to me too and for wanting a link to the drabble so you can link the post with my name (also heheh that is true i do switch my names around from time to time hehe)! Thank you again, this message was so so freaking sweet!! 💜🩷

The drabble you’re looking for could be any of my drabbles and I’ve posted so freaking many over the years. I spent over an hour searching my blog today and found these 3 drabbles. I hope one of these is the one you were looking for!

#asked and answered #nayeliq1 #thank you for asking #this made my heart melt #god i love that my writing could inspire you like this

[allthecastlesonclouds]

10, 17 & 32 for writer questions?

oooo thanks for the ask!! link to ask game

10. Has a piece of writing ever “haunted” you? Has your own writing haunted you? What does that mean to you?

When I was. like. 8. i wrote this original story about five girls and a boy. it was, in short, very bad: none of the character traits were consistent, the plot moved along terribly, and scenes were messy. every chapter was in a different font and Oh Dear God was it unreadable.

and i fucking loved it. i was so proud of it. i still kind of am? 35 pages for an eight year old isn’t bad. but there are printed copies i still find around my house, and my mom still talks about it to this day, and every time i read it i wince.

i’m not sure if this is the definition of haunted, but it follows me around to this day. you maybe thought this was gonna be a fanfic, but this story. Oh God.

17. Talk to me about the minutiae of your current WIP. Tell me about the lore, the history, the detail, the things that won’t make it in the text.

Gotta talk about fight or flight baybee!! okay so when i started this it was basically because i had many thoughts on the fact it was kristen’s siblings who convinced her to go during family in flames and not. her parents. and also the fact her parents names combined were McDonalds. that cracked me up. also actually i was talking to a lovely irl about this and they said “wait a character is Christian Applebees??” and i went ally beardsley how dare you. the google doc is titled ‘the mfing MacDonna Applebees’

i brainstormed a rudimentary layout for Mordred for this fic, as in i thought about the first floor and went ‘everything else doesn’t matter’. the chapel is canonically disconnected from the house but kristen also canonically has a secret passageway to tracker’s room, so i decided all the secret passageways link up and let people just. into the walls. kristen and riz are the only ones who have any semblance of confidence in there bc they sneak around so much. kristen uses the passageways mostly for tracker’s and bee’s rooms, but she knows how to get to the kitchen and about midway up the tower staircase.

bee is trans. i debated for a while whether her name was spelled Bee or Bea, but i decided on Bee bc i know a Bea and the vibes are. Different. kristen’s nickname for bricker is bricks, and bee calls him rick or ricks, and when they’re a bit older on their Fantasy Discord she Nicknames him Dick and kris doesn’t let Bricker change it back. bricker is bi; he kissed one of the luckstones under the bleachers and that’s what McDonalds was angry about. he’s also religious (bee goes i know the gods are real but i think i’m taking a step back please); he probably becomes a cleric of helio and does something similar to tracker in the sense he worships his own version of helio, not the widely accepted version.

they’re all two years apart: if kristen’s going into jr year, bee’s going into freshman, bricker’s going into seventh, and cork’s going into fifth. this means cork was seven or eight when kristen left, and you know, third graders are Little and have the object permanence of baboons, so. he’s fine. he’s not really in this fic sorry. when i listen to songs, i like to imagine animatics, and so fics are based around them often, and this one is no acception; the first line of the song is ‘i think it might rain today’ and a separate 3+1 line i was debating was ‘3 times kristen found her siblings in a storm and the one time she had them’.

also kristen needs therapy. she Will Not Get It.

32. What is a line from a poem/novel/fanfic etc that you return to from time and time again? How did you find it? What does it mean to you?

really any line from ‘For Everyone’ by Jason Reynolds. it’s such a good book. my boss at a camp i worked at gave it to me a couple years ago, and i cried reading it. if i had to pick a section: (id in alt text) (it hits different when formatted like it’s read aloud)

#ask game #ren <3 #god this book is. wonderful. i would recommend it immensely it’s short and sweet and so fucking emotional #questionnn! #no maintagging this one bc it’s all about my work and jason reynolds #seriously though that story. is a menace to society #i might redesign them at some point though!

[murdockbuckley]

You reblogged me so here’s some random numbers (answer what you can because I don’t have time to stop and read them this second so I’m sorry!):

3, 18, 29, 36, 49, 60, 7

:)

3. do you share your fic ideas, or do you keep them to yourself?

generally i'd say i keep them to myself, mainly because i don't really have anyone to share them with. i absolutely post snippets and talk about them on here. but like in terms of actually sharing the plots/storyline for any of them i tend to keep to myself.

7. post a snippet of a wip. (i figured this was meant to be seventy-something but i wasn't sure)

Inserting his key and opening Bucks door Eddie stops Chris from entering, overhearing *Bucks daughter* ask Buck a question.  “Does mommy not love me anymore? Is that why I had to come and live with you?”  She's sitting on the couch, her fluffy blanket with kangaroos printed on it is wrapped around her so only her face is showing. Buck is kneeling infront of her, he would've looked less pained if someone stabbed him through the heart with a dagger. There's a children show Eddie vaguely recognises playing on the TV behind buck. “Oh no my little star.” Buck crouched to his daughter’s level as he choked back tears, heart aching over the fact his little girl feels even an ounce of the pain he grew up with. “Mommy loves you so much, she just got scared. Your Grandma was helping her so much and when she died Mommy felt like she was doing everything wrong. She’s just really sad so her brain is playing tricks on her, telling her she isn’t very good at being a parent. But she’s going to get help. And she loves you so much sweetpea.”  *his daughter* is looking at him with her mother’s big round eyes, and Buck knows that he would do anything to protect her, just like he would for Christopher.  He clears his throat to avoid his tears spilling over, “And when Mommy is better, she’ll be here straight away to see you again. I- If that’s what you would want.”  Without warning, or an answer, she slams straight into Buck. Her tiny arms wrapping around him as much as they can, squeezing impossibly tight for a six year-old. Buck just reposition's them to avoid falling as he holds her even tighter, the tears he tried so hard to keep at bay silently falling. Buck presses a gentle kiss to the top of *his daughter's* head as Eddie feels a tug on his hand. Chris looks up to Eddie in the doorway, a new understanding in his eyes. “Is that why you and Mom left at different times? Because you were both scared and sad at different times?”  Eddie doesn’t know what he did in his life to deserve a son like the one he was gifted with, “Yeah Superman, and I’m so sorry that we both left you. I know your Mom was so sorry and trying so hard to make it up to you before she died.”  Now it was Christopher’s turn to hug his Dad. “It’s okay. I forgave you both a long time ago. Just… Please don’t leave again? You or Buck, I’ll be really sad and plus we have Roo now too.”

18. do you enjoy research? which fic of yours required the most research?

i do!! i love doing research in general anyways so doing it for my fics just gives me a reason for it and stuff to actually look up rather than something random. i would probably say tainted thoughts has had the most research put into so far (this one is basically finished and will be published around valentines day!!) but i know the wip that i just wrote a quick outline for today will require a lot of research

29. what's something about your writing that you're proud of?

probably that i'm including my poetry in some of it?? i've had a lot of the poems written for ages but have been scared to share them with anyone, so actually putting them out for people to see is scary but i'm happy that i finally did it

36. what fic are you proudest of?

loneliness is the first one i've published so im really proud of that, it's almost like my baby and then i'm proud of my girldad!buck fic, it's the first multi-chapter fic i've written and the progress i'm making with it is really good

49. what fic of yours would you say is the best introduction to you as a writer?

i only have one published fic right now so i feel like i have to say loneliness

60. in letters to our soldier, what inspired the idea for the plot?

(had to pick my own one because i relaise i haven't shared the title to any of my wips)

i had read all of the teacher!buck/eddie fics i could find and then my tiktok kept showing me soldier talking about receiving letters from schools whilst they were deployed and how it made them feel. so my brain just went "wait! eddie was a soldier i bet he would have loved it if he got letter from random school kids... CHRIS IS a school child what if by some chance miracle it was chris' class that sent the letters." and because i'm incapable of writing a fic without buck i decided to add the extra drama and make buck chris' teacher.

fanfiction ask game

#lou🪼blog games #tizniz #ask game #fanfic

[naturallyadventured]

carlenekanellis

There is an unspoken word from which women are born, a code of sisterhood. It is not seen nor heard, but ever so present. An oath that is taken from a secret vibration That transcends beyond girlhood to a world where dreams are no longer fantasy but actuality, where truth is spoken and wisdom laid out. In this space magic is created from love and abundance in the rising dance of the sisterhood mantra. This place is sacred, here she can speak the chant that calms her kindred heart,and Sing the song of freedom from which her soul beats. Ignited by the fire that brews In Her belly she roams the land where her wild spirit soars and takes in the prophecy of those that came before her. Letting go of all pain, she builds a river of tranquillity, that runs through her veins. A life force of purity and strength that can not be tamed. Here is where she is born in silence Into an unspoken world, from sister to sister all whispering in the mystic language of womanhood.© Carlene One of the first poems I wrote many years ago, explaining the depths at which I felt the power of sistership, the importance of building bonds with women of all ages, all colors, all experiences, all lifestyles and beliefs. It is in the fabrics of sistership where I learned to weave my own quilt in life. The blanket I could surrender in and fall deeply in love with myself and the power of woman hood and be fully supported in my raw authenticity. A big part of who I am and the art I create today is deeply impacted by many many strings of the women who have weaves their way into my life. I am so blessed. And so very excited to see where else my work takes me and the many many more strings I get to weave into the fabric of my life. An image from “The wild Woman Immersion” With @zemsway.of.earth & @ash.toashes in Shasta County.