onceuponabookiread

[onceuponabookiread]

When I was 18/19, there was an experience that opened my eyes to the fact that I had been treating people in an abusive and bullying manner. I didn't like who I was. I also didn't know how to change. I decided "fake it till you make it". I would pretend to be a better person until I could actually be one. After enough therapy I learned I wasn't "faking", I was just... trying. Caring about how my actions and words affected other people. Making the decision to not hit or degrade my partner. Choosing to learn instead of hate. Apologizing. I still struggle with thing like being judgemental, raising my voice when I'm agitated, and snap reactions. I might never be as good a person as I want to be but at least I know I've grown and I'll never stop trying to be the grownup I needed as a role model.

[onceuponabookiread]

im having feelings about the uffington white horse again

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[onceuponabookiread]

Just a note, a reminder perhaps, for future me and anyone it applies to.

The first few times you re-experience something without all the drama and trauma: it's completely normal to feel emotionally and mentally disregulated. You're body is so used to the stress and triggers that's it's programmed to feel terrible. The meltdowns ARE part of the healing.

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If I were an elf in Santas' workshop, I would want to be the one that makes sure the jingles didn't jangle.

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[onceuponabookiread]

Its cold and rainy and the world is full of bullshit

[onceuponabookiread]

When the King went to war with our neighbors we sighed and tightened our belts. Wars need soldiers, soldiers need food, and the rest of us go on with less. Then the King made it treason to aid anyone fleeing from the country next door.

When I found the little waif huddled in my hen coop I only considered the chances for a moment before scooping it up and hurrying into the house. Then we were discovered a month later (because of that tattletale two houses down all mad because no one likes her nasty rye bread) and I knew I might as well go out in with glory. I fought them. Heaving the heaviest pieces of furniture down to block them, jabbing them with the broom, and finally bashing away with the curtain rod while my little refugee ran.

When they hauled me up onto the platform in front of the crowds and the King, the only thing I could look at was the sword. It didn't look particularly lengendary. I expected gold and gems, maybe a night black blade. Instead it looks like an ordinary sword, hilt wrapped in leather, with the one unique feature of a thin red line running straight down the center of the blade. So thin as to not even be visible until I was standing in front of it. Then the King read my sentencing. Treason. Death.

When the King asked for my last words I finally looked away from the sword. I held my head high and looked into his eyes. I threw my voice at him like a stone. "I am proud of my actions. Are you?" And keeping my eyes locked on him I wrapped my hands around the hilt.

When I drew the sword from it's holder and held it in the air, silence fell. As the fear in the Kings eyes grew, so did the noise of the crowd.

Anyone who tried to wield the legendary sword would instantly turn to dust. Your country uses this as a method of execution. Little did you know, you were the chosen one it was waiting for.

[onceuponabookiread]

I read the original post to my husband and my position is with that of OP. He said though that while he probably wouldn't order two slices of dessert, that if he really wanted to he would just order two slices and wouldn't care what people thought. That it isn't his problem to worry about some future strangers missing out. And even if they came in, asked for tart, was denied, and saw him with two slices.... he wouldn't feel guilty. I was gobsmacked. He also pointed out that if he chose not to take two and nobody else came in for tart, it was equally likely for the extra tart to get thrown out.

Je pense que les gens qui ne comprennent pas pourquoi l'embarras sur la part de tarte n'ont jamais été dans un petit restaurant français avec juste un menu du jour et n'ont donc jamais connu les hauts et les bas du loto du dessert (pour toujours dévastée de ne pas avoir eu de la tarte à la rhubarbe parce que la dernière part m'est passée littéralement sous le nez) (#rhubarbeGateDe2019)

Thank you for these messages, it got me thinking about the possible rural / urban angle to the matter! In (some parts of) the countryside there can be a sentiment of scarcity / limited resources and opportunities, like if there are no other restaurants, no nearby shops to go buy a frozen pie—and maybe also more of an incentive to take strangers into consideration, because you don't expect to see random strangers ever again in a big city whereas here the person eating nearby in a restaurant might end up being the ally you'll need in a future Complex Rural Vendetta... But also in terms of atmosphere, diners in city restaurants might be more in their bubble compared to a countryside restaurant where people say hello to everyone on their way to their table, everyone is eating the exact same meal, so there's more of a feeling of togetherness even if you don't know these people?

Oh and @ first anon I agree that small rural French restaurants with their unique menu du jour with limited options that often won't be offered again anytime soon are a whole universe where micro-tragedies happen every day. My condolences for the rhubarb tart :(

[onceuponabookiread]

Discussing the upcoming move with my husband and he was all "I'm glad we move here and lived here but I just think it's time to be in a new place." Of course I agree and I likened us to plants again. Occasionally plants outgrow their pots. So basically he was like a greenhouse plant and when he moved here, "on the edge of the garden near the tall trees" so to speak, it gave him a chance to grow big leaves and stretch out. Now the soil is lacking nutrients and the trees are blocking out the sun. So we're going to move over to the front porch to a nice planter with a mix of sandy soil where it gets lots of sunlight and the sprinkler will hit it. I bet we can get a blossom from this next stage.

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You know that folk song "If I had a hammer"? Like I really like the Peter, Paul, and Mary version but I feel like we need to update it. I need an angrier version with like the Ting! TING! Ting! Blacksmith background rhythm with a foot stomping tub thumping beat and some OOMPH when they say things like Warning! Danger!

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Just magnificent. A real dream come true. 10/10

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"You can't just call someones' juju 'average'!"

-my nephew

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In my mind palace i envision my adhd as skittermanders

[onceuponabookiread]

My fellow entities. The absurdity that is my life has taken a further twist. Now, I got married to a male personage a few years back with the intention of exchanging my last name for his and streamlining my middle name. The best laid plans these were not and so! Here we are in 2024 and I had yet to make the change. On top of that I completely let my govt mandated identification card lapse because like whatever man. Only now real adult things are going on so like I need to prove that I'm an approved adult person. So we go to the dmv, I get a shiny new people badge in the mail after 8-15 business days, we hop on over to the socialism office for a new name and

(record scratch)

Come to find out.... when my birth mom went to prison for pretending to be other ppl, my dad won a custody battle he didn't really want to win, and he changed my name (I knew all that).... but that wasn't all that got changed.

For the past 30 years I was registered as a Male and I had no idea. It never flagged when I got my license, marriage certificate, or any identity verification.

I'm officially back to being female but I've got questions now. Did that mean my dad really did have the son he always wanted? How high was he when filled out the papers? Btw his name was also misspelled. Did I have a gay wedding? How did this not ping in a single system? And finally, I'd like to think this really put the cherry on top of my gender fluid nature.

[onceuponabookiread]

Why are white people like this ?

Speaking for myself,

Equal parts trauma and cheese.

[onceuponabookiread]

Take me from the valley

Drop me on a mountain top

Leave me on the open plains 

Surround me with the wind

Let the storms pour down

Washing my heart of stains

Flat grey skies boxing me in

Can't feel the air so far above

Fog wraps my wings like chains