#I mean I do understand helplessness is a thing we truly cannot do much individually especially when your country banned protests

[rawliverandgoronspice]

yeah, I just feel really really numb.

[marsprincess889]

About Bharani

Fate, The female and Desire.

Venus ruled, Mars's sign, Rahu's birth, Saturn's debilitation.

A kind of love letter to myself and other bharanis, especially bharani moons.

So, aren't we amazing? 😄 jk, but in all seriousness, I have some opinions and want to express them.

We're mleccha(outcaste) and venus ruled. What the hell is that? We're precious, that's the truth.

If there is one nakshatra that caters to females exclusively, this has to be it. This is no male territory. They wouldn't even understand. They don't. Think of how helpless they are when a female is birthing, how clueless they are about what menstruating feels like. We know some things have to be gatekept, for our sake. That's what we are about: guarding, protecting, gatekeeping, and we do it harshly, mercilessly, there's no other real way of doing it anyways.

I want to talk about what i think Bharani nakshatra is truly about: Fate.

Fate, choicelessness, being at the mercy of higher beings, authority, hierarchy...

Bharani's symbol is widely known to be the yoni(female sexual organ), a gateway to another world. Another symbol is the boat. In Greek mythology, souls were transported to the underworld via a boat. In various cultures, when a person died, people would put the corpse on a boat and let it burn while it floated away on water. Bharani-death association is no news, but why are females the key to all this?

After the freedom in Ashwini, the Sun's exaltation, we come to restraint, and not restraint from our own will, but the restraint we have no choice but to accept. This is the first nakshatra where we see the female. This is Saturn's debilitation, and amidst all this restraint we have the birth of planet Rahu, the birth of desire. Makes for a thrilling combination, does it not? While the male is cerebral, solar, the female is material. She IS the nature. While the male does, female is. The male's the user, the female's the used, and she can be used unfairly, poorly, incorrectly. This is the place where the female gets her revenge. Bharani is like a protection mechanism for ladies, she's given the right to refuse and if that right is violated, the will get her revenge. I'd say she has the power, but that would be wrong, because she IS power.

After all, all that male energy needs grounding, or it will disperse, that's why the female and her body, as well as mother nature that we all live on, are vessels_ material manifestations of the male energy that they hold. Bharani is about the rules that the universe is governed by, the unchangeable rules, the simple truths that have to be accepted. When you realize that the female perfection can be so easily ruined by the incorrect use of male energy, the choicelessness gains a whole new meaning in this context. It's the female that is choiceless, she's simply replicating the energy given to her on the material plane, giving it a shape, its proper shape, and if they don't like what they see, the blame should not be placed on the feminine.

So the female is the material and the rules,the boundaries, the limitations. That's why, in the most stereotipical way, many men fear women or are annoyed by them. The fate cannot be escaped, fortunately or unfortunately, and it does not really care what any individual thinks, it's much bigger than that.

Mythologically, various cultures have attributed fate to the feminine. The fates in greek mythology, three women with their threads of human fate, are one one of them. Another one that comes to mind is the norse goddess Frigg. Although I wouldn't coorelate her to Bharani, I think it's interesting that the highest standing(debatable) Norse goddess has a spinning wheel and a spindle, and it had been said that she knows the fate of everyone and eveything but keeps silent. Another interesting example would be Arianrhod from Welsh mythology. Her name literally means "The Silver wheel". Her various symbols include the tools used for weaving. The wheel-fate coorelation is apparent, and it's also interesting that fate is something to be "weaved" in all these mythologies I've mentioned.

The movie Brave(2012) comes to mind, where the rebellious princess Merida wants to change her fate, without any spoilers, there's a scene in the end where she has to repair a tapestry to avoid some disaster. She also has a tumultuous relationship with her mother, something that is also closely connected to Bharani. A really good example of this is the movie Ladybird starring Saoirse Ronan and Laurie Metcalfe, both Bharani moons.

Now we come to the part where I mention my personal life. As Bharani moon my relationship with my mother has been chaotic and full of tension, it's not exactly easy to talk about or explain. I've also noticed this in almost every Bharani person I ever knew. We always have that passion to stand up to authority and injustice, and it frequently leads to quarrels.

TRIGGER WARNING (gaslighting)

So I always thought that the gaslight gatekeep girlboss term was very Bharani. We've discussed the gatekeeping part, the girlboss part is obvious, and about gaslighting... the yoni is called "the great deluder"(source_claire nakti. Had to credit her!).

I want to talk about the movie Tangled and about Rapunzel's tale in general. The original story goes like this: A couple want a child(that venus, rahu's birth, desire theme) and the wife is pregnant(another bharani symbol) and she's craving a plant- rapunzel, that grows in their neighbor's garden(again, the desire-craving theme). Their neighbor is a sorceress. The husband ultimately steals the rapunzel, but he is caught by its rightful owner. They strike a deal: he can take all the rapunzel he wants in exchange for the baby. The man agrees.

After some time, the baby girl is born, and the witch comes to claim her. She names her Rapunzel, after the plant, and eventually, when she's twelve, locks her up in a tower. Let's pause for a moment to note the fact that we already have the Bharani themes of karma, cause and effect, desire and now claim and ownership(bharani, as the first venus-ruled nakshatra often tries to claim things and label them as their own and then gatekeep it harshly, just like the sorceress in this story. It's also interesting that the OWNED is also feminine).

Now, I really relate to Rapunzel. I also feel like I'm always missing something and that I could attain if only i could escape my current circumstances(the tower). Despite this state, I'm also full of desire and enthusiasm. When I was 8 (?) I won the tickets for my family to the premier of Tangled at my friend's birthday party. I obviously loved it(I still do), loved the story, the animation, THE MUSIC, Eugene... but never did I ever imagine that it would be so emotionally relevant to my life 12 years later. I kinda cracked the code and realised why I love it so much, it's cause she's basically me, and to be honest, she's every human in the truest, simplest way possible.

Anyways, let's continiue wuth the story. Rapunzel is locked in and while she's safe from the world, she's not safe from her "mother". Here I want to move over to the movie Tangled, but before that I'll finish the original. A prince finds her, they become lovers behind the sorceress's back, she eventually finds it out because Rapunzel can't keep her mouth shut, she cuts off Rapunzel's long golden hair and exiles her. When the prince comes to the tower he is greeted by Dame Gothel instead of Rapunzel, she tells him he's not to see Rapunzel again, he falls from there into the rose bushes and blinds himself. After years of wandering, he and Rapunzel finally find each other, Rapunzel's tears heal his blindness, they go to his kingdom and live happily ever after. Now, to Tangled.

The relationship between Rapunzel and and Gothel in Tangled is explored well enough for the audience to realize that she's abusive and a gaslighter(watch cinema therapy on youtube, they have a video about Tangled. They're also very wholesome). She's lying to her to keep her to herself, not really caring about her at all. The way Rapunzel feels misunderstood by the person who raised her feels very personal to me. This theme of gaslighting is very Bharani, as well the theme that love conquers all which is prevalent in the original tale. Also, I think that the damsel in distress archetype is very Bharani, as is the princess in the tower trope. She is power herself, so she's this completely passive power, waiting to be seen and be of use, longing for the other side while being trapped(saturn's debilitation). Bharani is about that leap of faith, to approach the female, to stand up to authority, to be brave, to follow your heart...

My another point is what drives these actions, which is desire and love. Overcoming fear through desire is the theme of Bharani. That's the very basis of life. There are tons of things to be wary of, but if we had no desire, no lust for life, we might not have lived at all. It's no secret that life and death, or birth and death, nourish each other. It's simply a matter of time(saturn, the material. The illusion of time is nessecary for life, limitations are nessecary for life, as bharani teaches us, the point is, are your limitations correct for you and your desires?), it's a process created by the illusion of time, and all that is driven by desire. While analyzing the tale of Rapunzel, I've noticed that most people focus on her long golden hair, ignoring what this tale is truly about, which is destiny, karma, cause and effect, bravery, how desire can lead to actions that have undoable consequences, how helplessly we are driven by desire.

One of my favourite movies, Tristan + Isolde (2006) is about the famous couple written about in medieval texts. They live in a cruel world but they're still driven by love, even though everyone and everything around them urges them towards restraint. They choose the limitation based on their hearts, knowing of the consequences that they would most likely have to face. I won't spoil it for you, but there's a quote in the end that i think really represents the essence of Bharani, at least, from the human perspective: " I don't know if life is greater than death, but love was more than either." This is very poweful. Life and death are just opposite sides of the same coin, death leads to birth, birth leads to death, and it's all driven by desire, it's all driven by love. And whether or not we have choice in all of this, we still simply have to accept the truth, we have to accept our truest limitations, as that is only way of growth and self-realization.

I'll leave you to that movie, that quote and this song. Love all of you, take care ❤

Please, interact with me. Like, reblog, COMMENT, especially if you're bharani, I'd love to hear your thoughts.

[penname-artist]

[Warning: kinda long]

Since I'm on a hunt for better information on the topic of post-traumatic stress disorder, I figured I would take a bit of time here and share at least a few basic principles of what it is and does. There is so much misconception around PTSD, and trauma is one of the most overlooked forms of human suffering out there.

Take all this with a grain of salt, also, as I am not a licensed professional or anything like that. I'm simply a person who has dealt with the effects of PTSD for several years, who's trying to help other people learn the signs and symptoms and how to take care of themselves sooner rather than later. I was several months into the thick of it before I even realized that I had PTSD, and it hadn't come to my attention until a therapist openly told me that's what I had been experiencing. Not all trauma is the same, as not all people are the same, but this is the gist of what I understand of the condition itself.

Most people (including some therapists and areas of the mental health field) are often under the assumption that PTSD can only occur to individuals who have been through life-threatening situations, like war veterans and plane crash survivors, or sexual assault victims (although sadly, even there, some people argue about that, which is truly horrible.)

While this is true, this is also not all that trauma entails. It spans a much, much wider ring of people who were put into a position of complete helplessness, either to a life-threatening degree (commonly referred to as big-T trauma) or one that severely threatens your psyche (also called small-t trauma).

In both cases, the symptoms of PTSD remain consistent: the affected individual may become more easily agitated or flighty, they may avoid specific things or have extreme reactions to seemingly minor things that they may now associate with the time that they felt trapped or helpless in the past. The big misconception with a "trigger" is that it means a person is "angry at or offended by" a specific thing. This is a false idea about triggers, which makes it even harder for the people who legitimately have them and must endure them.

A trigger - an actual trigger - does not "offend" a person. A trigger quite literally 'triggers' back the memories or emotions of your helpless past, as though you have been put right back into that situation where you could have been fighting for your life. Triggers are often personal and unique to the trauma a person has experienced, so no two trauma survivors are ever quite the same.

To make an example of just how personal triggers can become, I'll actually use my own first traumatic experience involving the abrupt loss of a good friend: for several months following the incident/s, I couldn't be near a lot of the things that I knew they enjoyed, such as Mario games, and BTS. They themselves were not things that harmed me, but they reminded me of someone who very much did, and so their connection left me extremely weary of them. Whenever I would see them, I would remember what happened, and I would feel like I was there again, stuck, like the past could not just leave me behind.

This is why triggers can be so debilitating to some people. Sometimes, we simply cannot handle things which remind us so clearly of the times we crawled our way out by the skin of our teeth. We must take extra precautions to ensure that when we do come close to these triggers, that we are not sent into a spiral of horrible thoughts and feelings or drained of our emotional stability. Sometimes that means taking in things in moderation, and sometimes that means cutting those things out altogether, and anything that went with it.

Another big misconception to trauma is that people are not "really traumatized" or that the situation was "not really a big deal". The point of the matter is that it is not any of our God-damned business whether it was a big deal or not. We do not have one another's eyes, and we cannot see and feel exactly what one another has seen and felt. As well, all people are different, and not all people will handle the same situations equally.

Some people are traumatized and bounce back a month later. Some people are traumatized and stay affected by it for the rest of their lives. Some people with PTSD smile and laugh and push on through the pain. Some people with PTSD go mute and become depressed for many years. There is no telling how trauma will affect any one person. So why should we feel the need to judge one another of experiences we never experienced in the same way?

I have been blamed - to my face - of my trauma. As though it was my fault that it was there, or my fault that it was causing me to react the way that I was. And I want to make this abundantly clear: we did not ask to be traumatized. We did not WANT to suffer with this kind of disability. We can deny ourselves and try to continue and shove it down and pretend that it isn't there, but it will not keep trauma from existing within us. It isn't a choice that we can just flip on and off like a light switch.

(A side note, with that said the same is also true that we who are traumatized cannot use trauma as a crutch in life. But there is a very big difference between working through PTSD, and using it like a "be nice to me" card. Please remember that no one is obligated to be an asshole. Nobody gets an "asshole obligation" free card. Not even trauma survivors. Yes we have triggers and painful pasts, but we are doing the best that we can to work through them despite the challenge, and the best of us don't use that as an excuse to get out of shit.)

As a final note for the people who know of friends, family, or people with post-traumatic stress disorder: we are doing the best that we can. Sometimes people with PTSD do need more help than others, sometimes we do need to be stepped around more carefully, sometimes we do need professional help and treatment, and sometimes our recovery is extremely minimal. It frustrates us, too. But we are doing the best that we can. We are overcoming it the best we can. We are surviving as best we can.

And the best thing anyone can do for someone who does have PTSD is be there for them. Be open and mindful, and supportive, doing what you are able to also.

I don't ask for anyone to bend to my needs, but I do my best in the ways that I am able to in order to get through trauma. I recently learned about content filtering on Tumblr and I'm using it to more accurately flush out the content that I know I am not able to handle. I've blocked users, filtered posts, and made my dashboard safe again for me to access without the fear that I will scroll right into a trigger and end up suffering for the rest of the day afterwards. This is my active work to handle trauma, and it is what is within my control. I cannot ask people to just "not post or reblog such and such thing, or things with such and such person". What people post is their choice. What I choose to filter is mine.

But I'm not always that lucky in other places. I have to be *very* careful to not scroll too far down sometimes when I put in certain Google searches. I have to be *very* careful every time that I check the Cars and Planes tags on AO3, only doing a quick scan of the latest fics, and keeping a lookout on triggering material, both for my sake and for some of my friends' (sometimes it's better to give a heads up so people aren't walking straight into it). There are still things out there that I entirely can't touch, there are still areas out there where I have to steel myself, and even then, I have run into triggers in places I thought for sure would be safe (side note, thank you and also fuck you, DeviantArt). And I have to keep pushing through, those times. But I am trying, I am taking the steps that I need to take and handling it the way that is healthiest for me to handle it in.

And I hope that people can be mindful of those things, for everyone who has to go through those things, and for everyone who is trying to take little steps, wading through their traumatic sewage hoping that the water will grow shallow with time. It really means a lot when people try to help us out. We're all just trying to make it to another morrow, together.

[gofancyninjaworld]

Garou and the futility of heroism

.With much thanks to @the-nysh for the conversation.  I thought of making this longer and more detailed, but I know myself: it’ll turn into one of those drafts that hangs around for years.

 I've recently been reading the Epic of Gilgamesh as a part of reducing my terrible ignorance of the foundations of Western literature.  Cracking good yarn, highly recommended, but I’m not here to talk literature. The latter half of the story is dominated by Gilgamesh’s struggle against the idea that he was inevitably going to die.

Where this relates to Garou is not that he’s railing against the inevitability of death and the reality that everything built up over a life will crumble to dust.  What Garou is struggling against is the seeming futility of heroism.

His specific approach is all sorts of bad, but the reality he's struggling against is something brought up repeatedly in One-Punch Man.  One of the *big* themes in One-Punch Man is critically examining what a hero is actually good *for*.  No matter how diligent a hero is, no matter how strong they are, the world's evils do not disappear. 

It's very outrageous and painful to acknowledge how small and fleeting one's efforts are in the grand scheme of things. 

The moment we get a look into Saitama’s thoughts, it’s the very first thing he leads with.  Literally the very first sentence of his thinking.

Saitama might be the strongest hero ever, able to defeat anything in one punch.  Not only has the world not become a better place as a result of his actions, but the very neighbourhood he lives in has become depopulated as it’s become too dangerous to live there.  In its own way, having birdsong be the loudest sound in the morning is its own rebuke to Saitama’s ambitions of helping people.

Watchdogman is the most diligent hero ever, with a perfect monster elimination record.  And yet, City Q is as monster-infested as ever.  Should anything happen to him, it will be as if he never existed for all the good his previous efforts will have done its inhabitants.

however diligently he sits, the pedestal he’s on will crumble the moment he cannot do his job any longer.

 And that’s just talking about monsters.  There are a lot of very bad people in OPM world and not just of the cackling mad scientist variety, although it’s got plenty of those too.

The world of One-Punch Man also has evils driven by factors that are far too big for any hero by their action to stop.  Problems best addressed at the political or economic level aren’t going to be solved with a punch.

Even when the evil appears to be tied up with a single person, like the Ninja Village was established by That Man, getting rid of them doesn’t necessarily change affairs.  The Village stole the freedoms and lives of boys for a good fifteen years after Blast defeated That Man.  It was still too profitable to *not* do.

when you think about it, crime must really pay in One-Punch Man!

Even when you say you’re going to do something simple and heroic, like save a single child from the clutches of a monster... what do you mean by ‘saved’, exactly?  How brutally difficult it is to save even a single person, how easily it is that your best efforts to be turned to naught by an adverse event, like springing a rabbit from a trap only to have it swooped up by a hawk, is fully on display this arc. 

so many heroes’ efforts and yet Waganma went almost nowhere...truly like fetching water out of a river with a basket!

Other than Saitama, we see so many other heroes struggle with the reality of how little they can change things in the long term.  Very notable is the conversation that Snek has with Suiryu, where Suiryu challenges Snek to justify why he bothers being a hero at all? “No matter how hard you try, it’s just drops of water on burning rocks,”  Suiryu says, something done for self-satisfaction rather than because it actually creates meaningful change.   Snek’s thoughts mirror Suiryu’s as he considers whether heroes are actually necessary at all.

Let’s bring it back to Garou.  Garou’s Very Bad No Good Plan to Avoid Heroic Heartbreak he laid out in chapter 41.  Quite simply, heroes always have to wait for bad things to happen and then react to punish the evildoers and/or save people. 

I love how long this guy is...um, sorry I was supposed to be typing something insightful here

But what if it was possible to take the initiative instead, like a monster does?  What if people could stop wanting to be bad and monsters could stop wanting to attack people?  That’s where the Human Monster was born, the quest to create a persona so strong that no one could oppose it, and so senselessly evil that no one dared to do anything that attracted its attention.

punishing the good and evil alike, don’t make him come your way if you know what’s good for you.

I see a lot of readers read superficially, misunderstand and think Garou is punishing heroes in some way. That heroes are bad in some way.  Nothing like that: he attacks heroes because they’re good and devote their lives to protecting people.  After all, only a total monster would do that.  Also, if even the strongest heroes aren’t safe, what hope have the regular people of this world?

All throughout the arc, that Garou doesn’t actually want to be a monster at heart is clear to every actual monster.  It’s clear to us as we see his interactions with Tareo.  It’s clear to him himself as he tries to steel himself to take a life just to prove to himself that he can (thankfully it’s Saitama he tries to kill). 

It’s what makes Saitama’s bullshit-cutting words as cutting as they are.   Ultimately, his trying to scare the world into being good is his way of running away from the tough, heart-breaking work of being a hero.

there is a crazy confidence a hero needs to embody in order to step up, as if by doing so they can do something

The pathos that we can empathise with is that it’s hard to look on a world as messed up as theirs is and not feel that surely, surely there’s something more that one can do.  Garou’s struggle is absolutely legitimate.   However... I’m going to let the however hang a moment...

It’s childish thinking to frame heroism in terms of strength and it’s not much better to frame it in terms of being of exceptional virtuousness.  What a hero is, according to ONE, is someone who can look honestly at the cruelty and randomness of the world, who can acknowledge frankly the fleeting nature of any good they can do, feel the pain of this reality fully.   And then choose to reach a hand out to help anyway.  

In a world where feeling helpless in the face of impossibly large and complex problems feels inevitable, cynicism is too ready a refuge, and just looking out for yourself is common sense, the mere act of reaching that hand out is an act of courage.

not with illusions of good triumphing over evil, but the dogged determination to do the right thing even if the world burns down.  That’s what being a hero is about.

However...

...the way Garou worked out his inner conflict was not legitimate.  He picked the worst possible way at the worst possible time to wrestle with it. Which I think goes to a second theme: that your feelings may be valid.  But that does not mean that every action that follows from those feelings is valid.  Garou hurt a lot of good people and impeded their vital work at a time the world could ill-afford it.

One of the joys of fiction is that not only do characters act for reasons that make sense, but we get to hear and understand *why*. And at the same time, the external actions they take on the world persist. I’m very happy too that ONE isn’t glossing over the consequences of Garou’s actions.  Too many readers pick one or the other and lose half the joy.   

Thankfully, ONE isn’t a half-ass.

It doesn’t become okay for the heroes that Garou attacked that they were assaulted.  It doesn’t become okay for the world that so many people were needlessly deprived of heroes when they needed them most.  And it isn’t okay for Garou that he’s made an outlaw of himself as a result of his actions.   The ramifications on both personal and societal are going to be explored for the individuals involved.  I bless ONE for his conscientiousness and for creating so many excellent characters that make the enterprise worth the candle.

What kind of hero Garou will decide to be and how he’ll make it work in practice, ah that we’re waiting to see.

Coda:

Of course, that’s not the whole story.  There’s one other part.  Occasionally, by being the right person willing and able to step up in the right way at the right time, a hero can change *everything*.

[hawkeyedflame]

Okay! This is all from memory so forgive me if I've forgotten something.

Starting with Roy: while I still maintain that he's a himbo, I think he's more complicated than I initially gave him credit for. When I sent the previous essay I was fully expecting him to go from this morally gray Dirty Harry style government figure to the white knight hero who saves the day and becomes a saint, but he maintained his moral ambiguity, which i REALLY appreciate in a character. A common theme throughout the show is being haunted by your past, and Roy is no exception, while he might have justified his actions at the time with the guise of doing his duty and patriotism he always knew what he did was wrong, and this ate away at him more and more as time went on. And to find out the atrocities you committed were not justified, but in fact utterly evil? Devastating. That's why I think the confrontation with Envy is so powerful, not only did Envy start the war, but they also killed Roy's best friend, and this truly set Roy off the rails. Perhaps he thought that by destroying Envy he could somehow vindicate himself. But that's not true, if Roy lost himself down in the tunnels he would only have spiraled downwards out of control, and it took a guiding hand to bring him back from the edge.

Speaking of, Riza! When I first spoke of her I Thought she was just a cool lady with guns, now I see that she's more than just a cool lady with guns, she's another example of a broken individual just trying to do the right thing. I think she's had a hard life, I can't imagine growing up with an alchemist father was easy, especially when his subject of choice was so dangerous, but then to have said dangerous work permanently marked on her own skin and told to keep it secret is tragic. It must have taken so long to precisely tattoo on her, and longer yet for Roy to study it. She must've trusted him enough to allow him to study it, so I imagine her thinking "did I make a big mistake?" upon seeing Roy use flame alchemy during the war. Speaking of the war, Riza appeared to be very young when she was involved, which is also tragic. It's like she had her youth and Innocence ripped away by forces she couldn't control. And while Roy might have had a higher body count, Riza was a sniper which meant she had a more...intimate relationship with the atrocities she committed. This is reflected in the scene where she buried a person she killed and asked Roy to disfigure her back to rid the world of her father's burden. She felt it was her mistake. Another very powerful, defining scene. Her father's work, the war, that moment, all stuck with her for the years after. Changed her. She clearly became very close with Roy during the war and they decided that they had to stick by one another.

To touch on their relationship very briefly, I honestly don't have the words to describe how just PERFECT their relationship is tbh. Like, their relationship inspired me to alter how I portray the relationship between two of my own characters, so that should tell you how much I like them. The dynamic is just great!

anon i love you, but you understand that himbos are like.. dumb and nice, right? roy is pretty much a genius and like.. he's not very nice, despite being a good person. i concede that, at times, he absolutely radiates himbo energy, but he is NOT a himbo. i will throw hands with you on this hill.

also, yes i completely agree that i prefer he was not relegated to a boring white knight. he is much more interesting as a man seeking redemption than a man absolved of his past. the confrontation with envy is easily the most impactful moment of any piece of media i've ever engaged with, personally. the life-and-death stakes of that moment were so unconventional compared to life-and-death in other stories. in most stories, the danger of death is coming from the opponent the hero is fighting. you're on the edge of your seat because you don't know if your protag is going to dodge the attacks, find the opening to strike, and be able to finish the job. but roy has already won. he has overpowered envy with very little effort and reduced him to his weakest and most helpless state. the danger is not from his opponent here. in this moment, the greatest threat to roy's life is his own hatred. we don't want him to finish the job; it would mean his own undoing if he did. we ache for the pain that he is in, but we also know deep down that riza is right, that what he is about to do will bring him to a place where nobody, not even she, can reach him. and it hurts so badly, because what brought roy to such unbelievable hatred is the unmitigated intensity of his love. because we all love. and to see such love turn into such hate is to see a crossroads in our own souls, the choice between hatred and grief. i am certain that choosing grief is the more difficult path, and i cannot imagine the state of his heart and soul in that moment.

as for riza.. god.. she fucking kills me, man. it's not in the anime, but in the manga when she tells edward about ishval, she tells him that she was brought to the front lines when she was in her final year of the academy. so she was about 20, maybe 21, when she was taking part in a genocide. as a cadet. the unfortunate thing about it is that she didn't actually have her innocence quite ripped away without her control, not as she sees it at least. she maintains that she made the decision on her own to join the military, and she knew she would have to kill people. she says she has no right to see it as a burden. i think this is partially because of her own body count, but also because she feels responsible for every single ishvalan who died at roy's hand. i cannot imagine her feelings when she first sees roy there. in the manga, she actually saves him and hughes from an ishvalan assailant, and then hughes brings roy to meet his savior, and that's how they reunite. it is not clear whether riza was aware of roy's presence on the front lines via rumors, or if that moment where she rescued him was the first time she knew of his being there. either way, it's fucking tragic to realize that the boy you trusted because he told you of his naïve dreams for the future turned out to be using the powers you've given him to kill thousands of innocent people. even after she speaks with him, finds out he feels the same way she does about the war.. i simply cannot fathom the war inside of her over how she feels about him throughout the war. i have to wonder if him agreeing to burn her tattoo off was what convinced her that she could still trust him. and then she goes on to stay in the military, at his side, in spite of everything she went through and knowing there will be more to come. she bears this guilt by his side; even though she could have walked away, she would not have found rest in a civilian life, not after everything she did, the things she facilitated. she tells roy, in the manga when she reports to his office after graduating from the academy, that she likes guns because she doesn't have to feel her victims die. roy tells her this is nothing more than self deception, and she tells him she knows, and that she will continue to deceive herself for his sake, so that he can reach his goals.

and their relationship....god. i could cry. i have never loved a fictional relationship with anywhere even approaching the intensity of my love for royai. it's just so... fucking good ksjdfhgjksdhfksud like... god. the tenderness, the trust.. the fact that they literally have already been through hell and would go there again for one another willingly. the absolute dedication. the fact that they know each other so well, when riza hesitates for only a fraction of a moment, roy knows immediately that something is terribly wrong. all the little looks they give each other. god. just. GOD. damn it. i love their love so much.

[sondepoch]

Wake Up

Tales of Our Love (Simeon x Reader)

Angels and humans don't belong together. Simeon knew that, and yet he still allowed himself to fall in love with you. But while he was able to pull himself together when the two of you broke up, he never could have predicted where his actions would end up driving you. So when he found your body, only one plea danced on his lips—for you to just wake up.

~Part of a series but can be read as a oneshot:

He Chose God | Wake Up | Astronomical | ✎ |

MASTERLIST

Superman.

That's what you always joked: "Simeon, you're my Superman."

The angel never failed to chuckle, only vaguely understanding the reference, always accepting the compliment by stealing a kiss from your lips. But you meant the words with all your heart.

Superman. The strongest man in the world.

And Simeon was just that.

You learned early on in your relationship that the angel was built like a Greek god, from the way he would wrap an arm around your waist and lift you with one hand to steal you away from whoever was holding your attention—and then there came the day when you got to see the muscles hidden underneath the clothes, and you learned he really was like Superman. Strength, stamina, and endurance to boot.

Indeed, Simeon was among the strongest individuals in the entire Devildom during his yearlong stay, and you never forgot that fact for a moment.

But you only understood the scope of his mental strength on the final day of the exchange program.

"W-what do you mean?" You asked, your eyebrows furrowing. You didn't understand. Surely you were hearing Simeon wrong. "Goodbye? Won't we be seeing each other after this?"

"Little lamb," Simeon said affectionately, but he was using the nickname he hadn't used since the beginning of the school year, back before the two of you ever grew involved. He was being distant. "You must understand that an angel and a human can never truly…"

He didn't finish the sentence, knowing that you knew exactly what he was trying to say.

"You told me…" You swallowed hard, feeling the thickness in your throat and the tremble of your lips. "You told me you would always love me."

"And I will," Simeon repeated. "But from afar. You must return to the human realm, and I have Celestial duties to attend to."

"Y-you said you loved me. You—you said you were in love with me—" You choked at the end of your words, the thickness in your throat growing almost too dense for you to bear. But you continued on, the accusatory tone of your voice never dropping. "Were—were you lying?"

Silence.

You took a step forward, tears suddenly threatening to spill from your eyes. But you never faltered. You had to know. You had to.

"Tell me, Simeon—were you lying?!"

The angel turned to you, sorrow lacing the clear blue eyes you'd grown to love so much, but they weren't sad for his sake. They were sad for yours. He gazed down at you with pity.

"I never lied to you, little lamb," He raised a hand to cup your cheek. "You have captured my heart. But we cannot be together. It's unnatural, for an angel and a human, and...we cannot."

You let out a sound that sounded almost like a child throwing a tantrum, but you couldn't bring yourself to care as you grabbed Simeon's shoulders. You attempted to shove him away from you, to put some much-needed distance between your bodies so that you could suppress the dam of emotions threatening to break free, but the angel was too strong for him to even realize you were trying to push him away.

Superman, you thought. The affectionate nickname left a dark shadow where it passed through your mind.

Unable to push him away, you gripped his shoulders, hating that you were using him to steady yourself even as the guy was breaking up with you.

"Bastard!"

Deep down, you knew that insulting Simeon wasn't the way to go to release the bubble of emotions you were feeling. Hell, you were more upset than you were angry, but when you felt the tiniest better after that first insult, the rest seemed to flow from your lips as easily as, well, water from a dam. And it seemed that you had finally broken. "You're awful, Simeon—absolutely awful! How could you be so heartless? So cruel? I—I—" You hesitated, wondering if you were ready for your next words.

"I hate you!"

You beat a helpless fist against his chest, knowing that it wouldn't hurt him.

Fucking Superman.

And it was at that moment—when you were so broken and emotionally ripped apart that you had yet even to process the fact that tears were streaming down your cheeks—that you looked up into the sapphire eyes you had grown to love so much.

You regretted it.

How? You wondered numbly, staring at the angel's impossibly clear eyes as he stared down at you, not a trace of emotion in his eyes.

He's already gone, you realized, for the first time understanding the scope of Simeon's mental strength. He's already distanced himself.

You stared helplessly into the eyes you were once so familiar with, not recognizing the empty look.

That was the day when you learned that your Superman wasn't just physically strong but mentally jacked, the angel so in tune with his mind that was able to close off the part that was in love with you completely. You stared into his eyes, realizing that the Simeon you loved was already gone. Already locked away. Probably never to resurface ever again.

The Simeon in front of you was different.

He made no motion to follow you when you took a trembling step backward, fearful at the sudden blankness of his gaze. It was a shield, you would one day understand. He hid away the part of him which could get hurt by your cruel words, the part of him that would beg for forgiveness and kiss you to make you take back the "I hate you" that left your lips.

"You're horrible," You murmured, taking another step backward. The Simeon you knew would have winced at the words, cringing in discomfort because you so obviously meant them—but the angel in front of you had steeled himself. Having hidden away everything vulnerable the moment he began to break things off with you, you realized that this relationship was already over.

The Simeon you loved was gone.

"I wish I had never met you," You said to him, before you couldn't bear to be in his presence a moment longer. You ran at top speed away, though you knew he wouldn't be following. You ran and you ran and you ran until you miraculously ended up at Diavolo's castle, sobbing desperately as you asked the demon lord to send you away.

"But the brothers…" He began to protest, knowing that the demons in the House of Lamentation would hardly be pleased to learn that their human had left without being able to properly bid you farewell.

But Barbatos urged the lord to reconsider, and soon enough, you were on your way, whisked back to the human world where there was nothing to remind you of the angel you loved.

Nothing to remind you of your heartbreak.

It was easier than you expected—returning to your usual life.

Everything went back to normal so soon.

You were grateful that your friends never asked where you went, grateful that your family never forced you to talk about your time spent away. If they had asked, you doubted that you'd have been able to say a word without bursting into tears.

Because the memories of Simeon were still so raw.

And no matter how you tried to forget him, you couldn't.

It got to the point where you were crying yourself to sleep every night, your heart aching for his touch and your mind refusing to let go of the affection you stupidly harbored for the angel.

It hurt.

It hurt so fucking much.

Some nights, it felt like you couldn't breathe. Like your own love was choking you do death as you raised a hand in the darkness reaching for—for what? You certainly weren't reaching for Simeon. He had made it all to clear that he was no longer yours, that he had moved on.

So what did you reach for?

An escape.

Fuck.

The moment those words crossed your mind, you should have stopped. You should have picked up your phone and called your friends, or summoned one of the demons to get your mind off things, or done anything to halt the train of thoughts which was beginning to gain speed.

But there was no going back, was there?

An escape, you thought drily, knowing all too well what the words meant. There was only one escape from your pain.

You reached for the sleeping pills.

Slipping them into your mouth, one after the other, delicate sips of water in between, you'd never felt calmer. For the first time since returning from the Devildom, you were at peace. At last, the rhythm of your heart beat steady, understanding that you would soon be from this perpetual cycle of ache.

An escape.

Freedom.

Death.

When you gave in to the temptation of slumber, you knew you would never be opening your eyes again. You found it in your emptying heart to mentally apologize to all those you'd be hurting—but you knew that the one you loved wouldn't care. Why would he? He had made it so painfully obvious that his affection for you had vanished.

You closed your eyes, memories of your time with Simeon playing out in your head against your will. And though you didn't want them, they brought a quiet smile to your face before you were truly gone.

But where you were finally reaching eternal peace, the angel you had fallen for was cast into a state of turmoil.

Simeon heard the beat of your heart as it pounded against your chest in a final, futile attempt to keep you alive. He felt it in the constriction of his own throat, when he sensed the part of him that he had locked away tremble.

For a moment, he resisted. He looked back at the paper he had been assigned to deliver, marked URGENT, and considered staying on his task. He considered remaining in the Celestial Realm, and ignoring whatever was going on with you.

But then the part he had locked up inside began roaring with a ferocity he had never felt before as it realized that the connection to you had been severed—and that realization was all it took to bring Simeon to your bedside, shaking your body frantically to wake you up.

"Little lamb?" He whispered in the darkness, fearful eyes glancing down. He pressed his hand against yours.

"MC!" He shouted, practically pouncing on your bed as he began shaking your shoulders. "MC, wake up! My love, my sweet, my angel, wake up!"

He hardly noticed when tears began streaming down his face, when his fingers grew clammy and his breathing turned erratic.

He was too focused on waking you up.

"Angel," He whispered, recalling the nickname you had both adored so much. "Wake up. Wake up, I know you can do it, my angel. Wake up, please, and I'll never leave you again. I am so sorry. I was so foolish, if you wake up I will never leave your side again so please, please, just wake up—"

He shook your form violently, fear constricting his insides and making it feel like he was dying from the inside. He had to remain composed, for your sake. He had to be strong. He had to be like Superman, like the confident and mighty angel that you fell in love with.

But would Superman have hurt you like this? Would Superman have hidden his emotions away for the sake of propriety, never realizing just how much you would be hurt in the process?

"Wake up, my angel. Wake up," Simeon whimpered, rocking your body back and forth as he clutched you in his arms. The two of you had always slumbered together in the Devildom, and there had not been a single morning where he hadn't raised you, always with a kiss—so why wasn't it working now?

Simeon was desperate as he crashed his lips into yours, meeting.you in a despairing union that could hardly be called a kiss as the angel tried, to no avail, to breathe the life back into you.

"Wake up!" He shouted once more, slowly realizing that you wouldn't. "MC, please! Please just wake up!"

He kept shouting until his throat was hoarse, until your shirt was drenched with his tears, until your body was cold and all the warmth had vanished. Until it felt like he had repeated those two words so much that they lost all meaning, and yet he couldn't bring himself to say anything else.

"Wake up," He pleaded, gazing into your closed eyes.

You never did.

MASTERLIST

He Chose God | Wake Up | Astronomical | ✎ |

Word count: 2.1k

Notes: Fuck life has been crazy for me for these past few weeks, and I've hardly been in the right headspace to write fresh content - but this is me pushing my shot at getting back into it. Far from my best work, but i need to start somewhere, and mindlessly rewriting this isn't going to help me get back into the groove of things 

Comment & Like

Thank you for reading <3

I do not own the rights to Obey Me! or any of the characters within it.

[tanadrin]

I suppose because politics is what means I have no future of any kind left, so it's hard to be silly about it. And I seem to have landed myself in a sector of social media filled with people who are very smug about how smart and nihilistic they are, and I hate all of you with the hatred that only a miserable, powerless person can feel.

I don’t buy it. Unless you are quite literally scheduled to be executed at dawn, “no future of any kind left” because of politics is catastrophizing. People in very dire circumstances the world over often manage to build some kind of life for themselves; it may not be the life they want, and the suffering they endure because of the circumstances they are limited by should not be dismissed, but to say that someone in such adverse conditions has no future is to infantalize them and deny them the agency they do have to shape their life to some extent.

And this is an insight I’ve found important when dealing with depression in myself: even if one’s catastrophizing is not irrational (say, you’re a queer person stuck in an extremely homophobic environment, at minimum for the next 5-10 years), that does not mean it is useful. To put it another way: circumstance might justifiably make you angry and sad and frustrated. That may be rational. Deciding, in the face of that anger and sadness and frustration, to surrender to it is not rational.

So--assuming that you are not a political dissident due to be executed, nor suffering from a terminal illness which somehow for political reasons cannot be cured (if either of these things are true, you have my sincere condolences)--I have to say, this ask reeks of someone who’s depressed. If you are depressed, you will always be able to come up with reasons why happiness is unattainable for you, due to circumstances entirely out of your control. This is not a crazy thing to think, because if you are depressed and not treating that depression, most if not all the things you try to do will not solve your unhappiness because they are usually orthogonal to what is making you unhappy. Your very ability to accurately imagine future happy states and what might bring them about is suppressed by depression; for instance, you might, if you are depressed and you know it, rationally understand that exercise often helps with your depression, but be unable to motivate yourself to exercise because the intuitive link between if I do X I will feel better is broken by an internal forecasting system that refuses to spit out predictions other than “nothing I do will help with anything.”

A depressed state is not a psychotic break--it doesn’t cause you to lose touch with reality--but I think depressed people would sometimes benefit from treating it like one, because it does subvert your ability to accurately model the world, and therefore you can’t trust your own ability to reason or intuit about certain topics. I have both experienced this from the inside, and seen it from the outside: friends whose depression causes them to believe they are unlovable, and thus that nobody loves them, even when told (and shown) repeatedly that they are very much loved, and very important to the people around them.

In fact, you remind me of this post: depressed and anxious people who notice politics is depressing and anxiety-inducing, and that depressing and anxiety-inducing problems confront the world and society, and therefore conclude that their depression and anxiety are a rational and reasonable response to the world. But that doesn’t follow at all! A lot of responses to a depressing and anxiety-inducing environment are more useful that shutting down and withdrawing, or letting yourself be paralyzed; and even if there are negative external factors in the world affecting your life, if you have nothing in your life that is a sufficient source of joy to offset these things at least somewhat, then you have problems sufficiently severe that I don’t think your depression or anxiety can be laid at the feet of the world at large alone; more likely, you’re dealing with shitty personal circumstances, and these are far more likely to be tractable to your individual capacities than, like, all of climate change. And if you do have some sources of joy in your life, you can cultivate those further.

To put it another way: humans are very bad at reasoning about things on large scales or over large timelines. One reason we’re slow to solve problems like climate change is that we tend to be pretty blasé about remote and impersonal problems, which is actually often useful as well--because it means we’re capable of adjusting our hedonic barometer to create joy even in catastrophic circumstances. If you are constantly worried about big issues like climate change or the Trump presidency to the point where you can never do that, then the conclusion you should draw isn’t that you’re a uniquely rational human being with a uniquely accurate worldview, it’s that your brain is broken and you should not trust your intuitition.

Emotional states are not rational models of the world. They are tools our brain uses to motivate certain kinds of action. They probably have their origin in our social evolution, but this means they are extremely untrustworthy when it comes to complex, large-scale, philosophical, or impersonal issues, because these are not scenarios our brains evolved to handle before the advent of high-population, highly-stratified societies.

Now, I realize it’s hard to convince someone they are depressed and/or should seek treatment by rational argument (lord knows I’ve tried in the past!), because after all, if we were being perfectly rational, we would not feel depressed. We wouldn’t feel anything; again, emotions are contingent tools, not highly rationalized responses to the world! So I won’t belabor this point any longer. Instead, now I’m going to get annoyed with you.

Because here’s the other thing depressed people do--and I have done myself. They see people who are not depressed, whose hedonic barometers are functioning normally, and capable of experiencing joy even in arguably (or inarguably!) shitty circumstances, and they get mad at them. How dare you be capable of laughing at a joke, or sharing a meme, or having a nice day, when everything is so bad!

This is a common response, not only from depression, but also I think from grief, or fear, or trauma, or lots of other things. But it’s bullshit. I’m sorry, but you don’t get to demand that everyone feel your suffering as acutely as they feel their own. You don’t get to demand that just because you’re a pessimistic ball of frustration and anger that everyone else be, too. You get to--and ought to--demand that people treat you with empathy and respect, but that doesn’t mean they don’t get to make jokes about topics you find depressing as hell. Yes, even topics that personally affect you, and may not personally affect them (though, of course, a lot of times people assume the person making the joke isn’t personally affected by the topic, when in reality they are and the joke is a way of relieving stress and coping with frustration).

That calvin and hobbes meme I reblogged is an extremely generic political compass meme; the only relevance it has to the world today, I suppose, is acknowledging that, like, politics is a thing that exists. If you’re upset by that--how dare people laugh at politics, the source of all my problems--you’re being a dick.

And this leads my to my final point, which is this: while we are all of us owed compassion, we also owe others compassion. And people caught up in their own anxiety and depression and anger often don’t see the way their emotional states impose costs on the people around them. They often treat the people around them badly--worse, at any rate, than they normally would--and react defensively if this is pointed out to them.

I’ve done this. I have friends who have done this. I get it. It doesn’t make someone a horrible person! It doesn’t meant they deserve to feel the way they do. But it does create the second half of a twofold moral obligation. You see, I believe that the, call it “utilitarian selfishness” view, is essentially correct: if all humans are of similar moral worth (they are), and you can only help one person (often true), and that person is yourself, it is no less moral to help yourself than it is to help someone else. This is usually framed as a grant of permission: “you are allowed to be selfish sometimes.” But it’s also an obligation: “you should not be a dick--even to yourself.” You have a positive obligation to care about your own suffering! And you have a positive obligation to try to reduce the costs your suffering--your bad mood, your depression, your anxiety--imposes on the people around you.

Because I’m not a smug nihilist. I actually believe, with embarrassing intensity, in a large number of abstract principles. And while I believe circumstance or injustice can conspire to make people feel miserable and powerless, and I have the utmost sympathy for you feeling that way, no one is so omnipotent as to be able to truly excise our power to do something with our life that is rewarding to us, no matter how modest. Your subjective feeling of misery is not license to be a dick to people, or to misrepresent them or their motivations. And if reading my tumblr (or anyone else’s) makes you miserable, you have a positive moral obligation to stop, because you’re being a dick to yourself, which is no more justifiable than being a dick to me. And being a dick to me because you don’t like my Tumblr, because you’re miserable and I’m not, is pants-on-head stupid.

I, too, have been so convinced of my misery and powerlessness, and so utterly convinced of my inability to make improvements in my life, that I have yielded utterly to the feeling of myself as a despised, helpless, wretched thing. You can spend years in that state. A lifetime, even. I suppose it relieves you from the burden of having to try, which is a tiny shred of comfort when the climb up the hill seems so steep. But I have found that in the long run it brings no other relief; there’s no regression to the mean, just an endless prolongation of misery. It required some courage, and not a little determination, to try to climb out of that pit. Sometimes you struggle. Sometimes you fall back in. Sometimes it’s easier to believe there’s nothing beyond that place of unhappiness. But there is, and you can get there, and the choice of whether or not to reach it lies only with you.

[bellicose132]

Meditations vol. 1

Existance is despair and allowing the despair to enslave you

Living is moving forward through the pain unscathed, like a still rock in the midst of a raging sea

One cannot be truly alive until they are free, for is a bird with no wings even a bird in a way that matters? Those too greatly encumbered by chains cannot claim to know who they are, they cannot claim to have volition over their own actions. They don't know it, but all their choices have been made for them through their own enslavement. For an example a great many people come home from work to watch tv or distract themselves in any other manner of ways. They don't realize it but the pain chose it. If you really stop and ask yourself what you truly want out of life the answer isn't to distract yourself until you die. Many are just not strong enough to live as themselves for themselves. And if that is the case how do you even know if you are alive? I don't mean exist but truly are alive? If you only operate on your addictions and distractions then you are not free, and if you are not free then you are not alive in a way that matters.

If you cannot live without something than you can not claim to be separate from it. If you cannot function without coffee then you are not you, you are only yourself with coffee. Sometimes I deprive myself of things just to find out if I really am alive. And who I am. I am not my skin nor my bones, I am not the water I drink nor the sleep I get, I am not the food I eat nor the air I breathe. I am me and nothing else. I do not need anything to be me. Not one thing. Our over reliance on comfort will be our downfall both as individuals and as a society. The reason people commit atrocities is because they are too weak to come to terms with the flow of life. They cannot accept life without love and compassion. They don't realize they don't need those things. Nor do corrupt politicians need the bribes they receive. Sometimes less really is more. If less can teach us how to live with meaning. Buddah did not achieve enlightenment through gorging, he achieved it through ultimate restraint. To learn what we are we must know what we are not. And to learn what we want we must first learn what we do not.

If you live your entire life only committing halfway to everything you will only have lived half of a life. Eventually a time comes when we all must make a decision: continue to appease and retreat in the face of every challenge or finally take a stand even if it means our lives. If you don't commit 100 percent to something how can you claim you lived with purpose or had a purpose at all? If you always think everything is stupid you will find yourself feeling empty inside. The point of life is not comfort, distraction, and then death. You will die with regret that way. Ultimately you have to choose a hill to die on a point beyond which your will defend with your life. For me it is wrestling, I am willing to give my life so long as it means I do not give up. So long as it means I live with meaning. And it may seem stupid to throw the rest of my life away over a sport that I haven't had too much success in, but it isn't about that. I don't care if I lose my future, I care if I lose my meaning. It doesn't make a difference to me if I'm good or mediocre at it what I care about is the absolute refusal to quit, the refusal to doubt myself, the inability to lose hope, the never ending reserves of determination, the unceasing struggle. I don't wrestle because it's fun, I don't wrestle to win a medal. I wrestle to find out if I was ever even alive. I'd gladly die for my dream not for any reason other than to be alive. And if you aren't willing to die for something then what are you even living for?

In my time wrestling I have seen many people and I have seen how they deal with doubt, expectations, and nerves. Ultimately I believe this to be a metaphor for life as a whole and I'll explain. When we went as a team to wrestle any other team that was much better than us some among us accepted defeat before it had even come. But why? Because it's easier to roll over and die than to give everything you have to survive? The way I see it WE WERE ALL BORN INTO THIS WORLD AND WE WERE BORN EQUAL AND FREE. No baby is better than another, they are all equally helpless. None were superior, none could oppress the others, none could stand triumphant over another. But somewhere between then and now it all changed. So you can either face your opponent believing you to be equals or you can shamefully bow to their will. I know we were both born into the same world the same damn way so why should I let him beat me? Why should I give up? As far as I know we're equal. So may the best man win. And may we fight hard. And I see this implicated throughout all of life: we refuse to put up a struggle if we do not deem victory as likely. To quote Ronald Reagan, "Admittedly, there's a risk in any course we follow other than this, but every lesson of history tells us that the greater risk lies in appeasement" and "If nothing in life is worth dying for, when did this begin -- just in the face of this enemy? Or should Moses have told the children of Israel to live in slavery under the pharaohs? Should Christ have refused the cross? Should the patriots at Concord Bridge have thrown down their guns and refused to fire the shot heard 'round the world?". There has to be a line between what you can put up with and what you will not put up with. A line that only moves forward not backwards. So when you have your own insurmountable challenge just realize that a life of running away is a life of regret. A life of giving up is a life not worth living.

Let's circle back to desires and addictions, every single person alive knows what is right and wrong. We all know through guilt. We feel guilt when binge eating because we know it is not the correct choice. We all know deep down what is right and wrong but we keep making the wrong choices. Our desires are not different. We all know that we should be working out not watching porn, we all know we should be eating eggs not mcgrittles. We all know deep down. When there are goals to be accomplished why do we sit around like fools? We know we should be chasing victory. The reason is enslavement. We have been enslaved by our desires and addictions. Do you really want to eat icecream? Yeah it's tasty but so what? It only brought you pleasure for a single moment while it tasted sweet. Now it sits idly in your belly as a monument to your inability to make good decisions. You don't truly want ice cream, you truly want to be happy. And happiness cannot come until after desire is renounced. Sugar is a drug that gets you addicted. Think about it, is there really any reason to have it? No. It is sweet for a moment then vanishes. It requires a continuous flow of ice cream to get permanent satisfaction. And anything that needs a permanent supply to get a benefit is a poor method.

If it was easy to do it wouldn't be meaningful

The less you want the more you have

Even in the worst of circumstances, he who is free may still be happy

Abundance can be achieved by gaining resources or lessening desire

I am not afraid of death, I am afraid of not being to live

True abundance is not measured by quantity, rather one's own relative definition of abundance. Depending on the circumstances we have become accustomed to we will have certain tolerances to our desires. Often times the more and more our lives change the more they stay the same. He who desires nothing has everything and he who desires everything has nothing. And yet we cannot understand how nothing can make us happy. Because we are blinded by the very desires that obstruct our journeys. For another example the richest of countries have the highest suicide rates. For some reason humans even when given better lives on paper cannot escape despair until they have made peace within their own hearts. The lesson is ultimately give a man a fish. Give a man everything he "needs" to be happy he will be joyous for a day, give him the ability to ask what happiness is to him and the means to find it and he will be happy for a lifetime. If you don't know what you missed out on you can't be saddened by it. If I was not born my family would not have the ability to mourn my inexistence. Now it makes no difference if you arrive to that state out of ignorance or out of indifference. The point here is that if you would only be saddened by not having something if you knew about it you have the ability to remain indifferent regardless. So it is possible to be indifferent to poverty and any other misfortune. To summarize desire is distraction, the more you want the less you will feel you have. Happiness and enlightenment cannot come from external sources. Money, women, drugs, sex... these will not make you happy if you never adress the true root of despair which has been inside of you all along. How can you expect to heal inner pain with external factors? Like I said even in the worst of circumstances he who is truly free in all aspects can be happy.

Personally this means a lot for me, I don't have great luck with women and even when I was offered sex I turned it down. Now being a virgin for life used to scare me but now I realize I do not need it. If it comes then it will come. If it does not I will remain unaffected. No matter when I die or how little money I have I will always be happy because I desire nothing.

If I do not allow anything to affect me permanently I will have become strongest of all: water. Being able to move without resistance amongst the vicissitudes of fate retaining what makes me me no matter where it takes me.

[zestria13]

Final Fantasy 15 Thoughts (Spoilers!)

So, I just finished playing Final Fantasy 15 Royal Edition and I have many feelings about it. As I understand it, I have avoided many of the basic gameplay and story problems by buying the Royal Edition, which has all of the patches, dlc's, and fixes many of the bugs encountered when FFXV first came out. Oh, and I have watched the brotherhood anime and the Kingsglaive movie. Overall, my first experience with FFXV is much more complete than it was when the game was initially released (that is my understanding anyways). To be clear, I enjoyed playing FFXV (at least a good portion of it), but I have many issues with it too. One of my main issues with FFXV is the plot, especially the plot following the rite in Altissia. I have read many complaints about how dark FFXV gets after this point and how it becomes a very narrow, plot driven narrative as opposed to its earlier more easygoing and open world setting. To some extent, I agree with these complaints. This change in the game feels very sudden and forced to some degree. However, I personally tend to play heavily narrative games because I like deep, complex plotlines. This turn into a plot driven narrative is not my main issue, though it was, in my opinion, too abrupt a change in the game. My main issue following the events in Altissia, simply, is that the game wasn't as much fun to play after that point. For a game promoting the concept of brotherhood and comradery, that pretty much disappeared after the events in Altissia. Don't get me wrong, I understand the events in Altissia were traumatic for all of the characters and that caused most of the tension, but it was like we were playing with a different group of characters than we started with. All of the comradery seen previously in the game, from the pep talks, to characters interactions, to the short quips in battle (My fav was between Noctis and Ignis, the "You got my back" and "Always" in reply) had created this atmosphere of a team, of a brotherhood that was connected not just by duty, but by genuine friendship. 

But then Altissia happens, and the group just...completely falls apart. There is such an emotional whiplash between the first part of the game and the second part of the game, and its jarring. I honestly felt uncomfortable playing the game after the events in Altissia because the atmosphere was tense and strained, and the comradery present in the first half of the game became nearly nonexistent. Frankly, the game never recovers from this mood shift, and the rest of the game has a sort of sullen, discomforting feel to it. And I know people would argue that the brotherhood comes back together at the end of the game, but I would argue that true reconciliation never happens between the characters, instead making their comradery at the end a byproduct of their circumstances. They never truly deal with the problems created by the events in Altissia and afterwards. They just push them aside because they need to do so in order to work as a team and save the world. Now, is it possible that the remaining trio living in darkness may have dealt with their issues and figured things out, but we wouldn't actually know because we aren't privy to anything that happens during those 10 years. Maybe the game wanted you to understand Noctis's perspective in this way (though they don't really touch on how incredibly disorienting that time skip must have been for Noctis). However, the point stands that there was never really time at any point in the rest of the game following Altissia for the group to reconcile and come back together as a cohesive unit.

That leads me to another huge issue I take with the plot of this game. The ending. I know, already, there are people who will comment and say that "Not everything has a happy ending" and "The sacrifice was necessary to save the world", and so on and so forth. My issue with the ending comes back to the question of why. Especially after having watched Episode Ardyn, I just don't feel that the game gives us a clear cut reason as to why any of the ending needs to happen the way it does. Ok, so the sun goes down and doesn't come up after Noctis is pulled into the Crystal, which means demons have pretty much free reign and everything is much more dangerous. Got it. But why did the sun disappear? I know the game explains that there are organisms infected with the Starscourge that release a light-absorbing miasma, which are the cause of the lengthening nights (though you need to be fairly thorough in your examination of items to learn this). It also mentions the idea that the Oracle dying is related to the longer nights and the disappearing sun, though it never really explains why besides the fact that the Oracle can heal the Starscourge. While I understand that her healing those with Starscourge helps to limit the amount of miasma being put into the world, it seems rather unlikely that one person can ever hope to keep up with that demand. Also, we only ever saw Luna heal people who had not fully turned into demons yet, and I would assume that those people aren't giving off the same level of miasma as fully turned demons. And, we know those fully turned demons exist, in the form of demons the party runs into and the MT's that the empire uses. I'm just not sure it is believable that the Oracle, by themselves, is actually healing enough people to actually prevent the endless night in the first place. As for the other part of the explanation, how did those organisms proliferate to the point where it caused an endless night? Based on what we hear from characters in FFXV and read in the research notes, the appearance of the longer nights was incredibly rapid, which begs the question of why those organisms suddenly started infecting creatures and producing this miasma so quickly in comparison to any other time in the history of this world (as far as we know). All in all, I can't think of a solid reason given in the game as to why the endless night even happens, or perhaps, why it hasn't happened already. 

Moving on, after Noctis is absorbed into the Crystal, we do a ten year time skip. Back to my question of why, why did Noctis have to be in the Crystal for 10 years? I know he went in to gain the power of providence, but 10 years seems a bit excessive. Maybe that’s just me. Ignoring the fact that almost all of the living things in the world would have died without 10 years of sunlight, the fact remains that, in all likelihood, most of the creatures living in that world would have perished, either by being killed by demons or due to a lack of resources. In all honesty, there probably aren't many people alive by the time Noctis returns, and it’s hard to say if a civilization would actually be able to recover from that kind of devastation. Anyways, let's move on to what is my biggest contention with the plot. The prophecy. I have to say, I really, really dislike this plot point in the game. For one, it makes no sense. The true king, in this story, exists to purge their star of the darkness. Ok, cool, love the vague terms. But again, why? The darkness, which basically refers to the Starscourge, has existed for at least 2000 years at this point in the world. If the gods were so invested in this issue, why didn't they address it earlier? Why wait for a so called chosen king after at least 2000 years of this darkness ravaging their world? And what makes Noctis the chosen king? Simply because the gods said so? If that is the case, why didn't they choose a chosen king earlier? I know, after watching Episode Ardyn, that Ardyn was also a chosen king with the ability to absorb Starscourge from other people into himself. An ability, I might add, granted to him by the gods. But when Ardyn tries to ascend to become a king, the Crystal, where Bahamut resides, suddenly rejects him because of his ability (which, again, was given to him by the gods), and so he is rejected basically by the gods via the gift they gave him. Which makes no sense. As we know, this action leads to the circumstances we see in the game. 

To me, at this point, it seems that the gods on Eos are incompetent and create this prophecy in order to fix the problem they created. This seems to become more glaringly obvious when Bahamut tells Ardyn (in Episode Ardyn) that he literally is a pawn in their game to fix the problem they created. At its core, that is what makes me so very frustrated with this prophecy plot line. It seems that the characters in this game are no more than pawns being made to do what the gods tell them to do, and that everything in this world is preordained. Not only does that rake against my own beliefs as an individual, but it ruins the purpose of the game for me. If everything is preordained, then what is the point? It also hurts my perception of the characters as well because the characters, except for Ardyn maybe, never think to go against the determinations made by the gods, they just go along with it. They never stop to consider trying to find another way and instead simply accept their fates as is. I understand there is something inherently powerful and moving in sacrificing yourself to save others, but making it fate instead of an active choice lessens the impact. Noctis doesn't choose to sacrifice himself to save Eos, it is forced upon him. There is no sense of choice here, merely one of acceptance. The cruelty of Noctis' preordained fate disturbs me. Not only is Noctis just randomly chosen to die to save the world, but the gods see fit to inform his father of that when Noctis is 5. I cannot truly imagine the depth of sorrow and helplessness probably felt by Regis in being told that his son is basically a sacrifice. Undoubtedly, knowing that weighed heavily on Regis and I'm sure at times that knowledge put a dour edge on his time with Noctis. One of the saddest things about Noctis' fate is how little time he actually gets to live. I know he is technically 30 at the time of his death, but he really only lived 20 years. Not only is his life cut short, but he actually loses a third of it in the process of becoming the ideal sacrifice for the gods. To me, Noctis' fate is just unbearably cruel. And don't misunderstand, I actually like games that have darker themes and angst in them, but I think there is a balance in crafting stories and this story didn't quite find a balance. And the thing is, I think the creators of the game have acknowledged that too, as they have now created 2 alternative storylines where Noctis doesn't die and his fate is subverted in some way. Personally, I prefer the message given in the Final Fantasy 7 remake where the characters actively fight against a pre-determined destiny, instead of simply accepting their destiny as is. I have more thoughts on the subject of Final Fantasy 15, but for the moment I will end my writing here.

[muthaz-rapapa]

HealPre Ep 2: Partners, Faith & Ability

Hwoo, boy. This is another long one.

Ok, I know mascots are not the most exciting things to talk about when it comes to Precure because while a handful of them are not quite two-dimensional (depending on the context), they rarely fully reach the three-dimensional field either since they are majorly there to support the main charas and...well, to look and be cute for the merchandising. Hence, why they’re soon shoved to the backseat in favor of the story focusing more on our heroines.

But as we are still in the early period of establishing relationships here, I think it’s noteworthy to discuss the return of fairy partnerships (which hasn’t happened since DokiDoki, can you believe that?) and why it’s significant to the story of HealPre.

Starting with the first one-sided “fight” (if you can really call it that) between Rabirin and Nodoka.

Prior to learning that Nodoka’s actually not athletic, Rabirin was immensely ecstatic to have found a human who shared their sentiments on wanting to protect the Earth. But because she was too thrilled about it, she ended up blinding herself with thoughts that Nodoka is the ideal partner she always wanted. A person who’s agile, graceful and possesses a robust physique.

So when the after school activities proved otherwise, Rabirin gets upset and disbands the partnership right then and there.

Which makes Rabirin look incredibly shallow and selfish but in reality...

It’s because she likes Nodoka so much that she can’t bear to put such a kind girl like her in danger.

True, Rabirin is still basing everything off a mindset that says “I can only accept a partner who’s physically capable” so for one part, she is still thinking too superficially.

But for another, Rabirin also acknowledges that she is just a trainee, not a full-fledged doctor. She knows for a fact that she herself is not completely competent as she wants to be (yet) so if something bad happens, she might not be enough to protect Nodoka from the fall.

Nodoka has a handicap and Rabirin is inexperienced. These are not the best circumstances to go into battle with so to minimize the damage that can affect them (and the Earth), Rabirin decides to leave Nodoka.

It’s not that protecting the Earth takes priority over everything else.

It’s because protecting the Earth should not come at the expense of letting Nodoka get hurt in any way.

That’s the true reasoning behind Rabirin’s rejection.

Meanwhile, let’s go back to Nodoka.

Her noticeably calm reaction to Rabirin’s emotional outburst is also worth examining. Rather than becoming sad or disheartened at being dumped because she’s not “up to snuff”, she takes the time to reflect on what she’s able to do at the moment.

Nodoka’s not going to deny that she has trouble keeping up with those who are more athletically fit than she is. She knows that’s due to her having a weak constitution from illness but she’s not ashamed of it. It’s just a fact that she was sick, nothing more. 

It doesn’t mean she can’t do the same things healthy people are capable of doing. It just means she has to find ways to do them without straining herself. And if given the time, she’ll eventually be able to catch up with them that way.

Nodoka already has the motivation (hell yea she does, that’s mah gurl!) so all she needs to do is to find the best point for her to start from.

What’s more, Nodoka is not afraid of getting hurt to do what she feels she needs to do.

When Rabirin was not there to help her transform, Nodoka tried all sorts of things she can think off to fend off the Megapathogerm. Teaming up with Nyatora, donning armor before confronting the monster and tricking it into a trap.

Honestly, it’s remarkable how she faced the situation without letting the panic get the better of her.

She’s very stable as person, a trait I believe is something we’d like to see in anyone, especially a partner.

And “failure” doesn’t discourage her either.

When she proves no match for the Megapathogerm in her civilian form, the first thing she does after getting knocked off her feet was to try and chase after it.

The thought of people getting hurt by the villains is what drives her to act. Even when she’s in no condition to continue fighting, she musters whatever strength she has left to help others anyway.

Nodoka is brave, resilient and extremely compassionate.

But it’s also important to know she isn’t fearless.

And what she is most afraid of is not being able to do anything at all.

She’s not just afraid for other people. She’s also terrified that if she doesn’t act now, she’s going to have to relive those lonely, difficult days she spent bedridden in the hospital.

A life where she couldn’t move as she wanted, couldn’t live as she wanted to. And perhaps those feelings of helplessness made her despair.

She doesn’t want anyone else to feel that way. She doesn’t want herself to feel that way again because of not being able to do anything as she is now. Now when she can finally walk on her own two feet and start doing so many things she couldn’t do before.

Nodoka had received so much hope to get here.

From her parents, her doctors, her nurses.

It was thanks to them for being by her side through the hardships that Nodoka was able to make it here today.

They taught her to have faith in herself, to believe that she does have it in her to beat her illness.

And she did.

Nodoka values the hope given to her so strongly that if she were to step back and give up now, it would be an insult to all the support she received from her loved ones.

When she was in pain, no one abandoned her. So how can she possibly stand by when she sees someone else in trouble?

Therefore, whether she can still be Rabirin’s partner or not, whether Rabirin will allow her to be Precure or not is not the main concern here.

Nodoka just wants to do something.

She doesn’t want to sit on the sidelines like she used to. She wants to join clubs, do activities and run to her heart’s content.

And if someone’s hurting, she wants to help them. That’s all.

Doing nothing is more painful for Nodoka than failing.

That’s why when Rabirin gave her the powers to transform into Cure Grace, Nodoka was so grateful to her.

Becoming Precure helped Nodoka from drowning in despair again. She was able to do something, she was able to help the Earth beat the maladies the villains inflicted on it.

Similar to Nodoka’s parents and doctors giving her hope to overcome her own illness.

And in earnest, she sincerely swears to Rabirin that she’ll do her best to protect Earth with these powers she’s given.

Nodoka cannot promise she’ll become the strongest Cure ever. She knows how dangerous fighting these monsters can be and she’s fully aware of the limits of her own body.

But she still wants to at least try.

Not for herself. Becoming Precure is not for herself, but for the sake of others.

So she asks Rabirin to believe in her. Like with her illness, Nodoka is not that naive to think she can go at it alone. She beat her illness because she had her people by her side, supporting her every step of the way. 

And if Rabirin gives her another chance, then Nodoka knows from experience that they can overcome whatever comes their way. Not just Nodoka. Nodoka and Rabirin.

They can save the Earth if they fight together.

After a declaration like that, how can Rabirin even think of not wanting Nodoka as her partner?

More than finding a person who’s in tip-top shape, being able to find Nodoka, whose heart is just as strong if not even stronger than the average healthy person’s, is nothing short of a miracle.

What Rabirin was looking for was not the “perfect” partner but someone who resonated with her. That someone is Nodoka.

With that, she apologizes profusely for treating Nodoka so harshly before, judging her without knowing her story and not respecting Nodoka’s feelings like a doctor should.

Rabirin was right when she said it wasn’t she who helped Nodoka but the other way around. Meeting Nodoka helped Rabirin break free of the limits of her own thinking...

Which finally brings me to the topic of partnerships.

Y’know, it’s so easy to take the fairies for granted because though they play a pivotal role, they’re not the most important part of the story.

But the way the necessity of a partnership is portrayed here, as a very serious matter rather than the teasing banter comedy we usually see, tells something very profound that HealPre might be trying to convey.

It’s that no man is an island. No one can shoulder the world alone.

Just like how we can’t expect one individual to solve the climate crisis, you can’t assume that you’ll be okay bearing all the burdens on your own while fighting against your personal ailments, whatever they may be.

Everyone needs someone else to truly live healthily.

And not just any “someone” but a person you know you can truly trust to understand you and repay in kind as well.

That’s what makes a partnership.

Protecting the Earth is the biggest importance to Rabirin and Nodoka practically had to bare her entire soul to the rabbit to prove she’s up to the task. In turn, it wouldn’t be right to not answer those feelings which is why Rabirin tossed away what set her back to accept Nodoka as the one and only partner for her.

Rather than worrying about what someone’s not capable of, you should actually take a real look at what they are capable of doing. And in order to do that, you have to get to know each other, see what’s beyond the surface, reach the point where it’s become secure enough for you to be confident enough to say the faith you invested in each other is worth it.

Only then can something be born out of two people combining their efforts together.

Two.

二つ (“futatsu”)

Why does the post-transformation Cure phrase have this word in it? Because it’s not just Nodoka becoming Cure Grace to save the world. It’s Nodoka and Rabirin.

Rabirin who gives Nodoka the power to transform into Precure. Nodoka receiving that power to protect Earth alongside Rabirin.

Cure Grace is made up of the power of two, not one. Cure Grace is both Nodoka and Rabirin.

The power of two.

I’m not sure if this is how I wanted the post to turn out (I had to rewrite and re-edit it so many times because thinking on it drove my mind in circles @.@;;) or if I said everything I wanted to...

But if there’s one thing I’m certain of is that Rabirin will never doubt Nodoka again from this point on.

Even when Chiyu and Hinata, who have better stamina than Nodoka does, join the team, I’m certain Rabirin won’t compare her partner to them and instead say something along the lines of “Nodoka has the biggest heart out of anyone here! My partner’s the strongest of them all!” with immeasurable pride.

In short, Rabirin liked Nodoka before but she definitely loves Nodoka now.

(*＾v＾*)

[livinwithhumans]

The Tell-Tale Heart of Clay Jensen

From its inception to its release, 13RW created quite a whirlwind in the media over allegations that it causes suicide and is insensitive to these issues. Now, at its end, it feels like 13RW has long said goodbye to those times and has embraced the blunt nature with which it discusses teen issues of suicide, abortion, drug abuse, sexual abuse and gun violence. I have always appreciated that the show took these issues head on and did not back down from a fight even when the media and parents were hell-bent on ruining its legacy. 

Season 4 of 13RW comes at a time where we’re all feeling slightly disconcerted and apprehensive of the future what with a deadly virus at large. I’m sure we all must be feeling trapped not only in our homes, but in our own idle and terrified minds with no room for escape, because there is nowhere to escape. Surprisingly enough that is exactly how Clay feels throughout this whole season. Basically, Season 4 has two goals: to mentally push Clay to the metaphorical cliff’s edge and to wrap all the complex and messy emotions in a 5 minute valedictorian speech. The former I was mildly intrigued to explore, the latter I was not impressed with. Let’s take a closer look at what the show has achieved or failed to achieve in its final season. 

Those who know Clay’s character well, know that he’s the sweet guy-next-door who just goes with the flow rarely stopping to question his sometimes irrational actions and poorly-made choices. Like, when he chose to point a gun at Bryce or when he chose to cover up Bryce’s murder. Having been in jail, becoming so involved with the deaths of 2 close friends (Jeff and Hannah) and covering up a murder, it was only a matter of time before he roller-coastered straight into the deep end. There’s only so much one person can take before they crash and burn. Quite literally in this season, because as we see Clay is haunted by dreams of a terrifying Monty, blood everywhere and Bryce. Even the lighting of this season is dark and monochromatic to reflect Clay’s weakened mental state. To be honest, Clay’s go-with-the-flow nature is the source of his mental distress, because for the past few seasons, he has just been coasting along with the other characters never stopping to think that maybe his friends are wrong and that he shouldn’t go along with the choices they’re making. Of course, at the same time, this quality is Clay’s core characteristic, because he is known for being a loyal friend even if being loyal means jeopardizing his own life and health. 

To put it simply, the Clay this season is a Clay that has lost all sense of purpose. If you’re thinking, what was his purpose anyway? Well, isn’t it obvious? Season 4 Clay has no one to take care of anymore: no Hannah, no Jeff, no Justin, no Skye, no Tyler, no Ani. He lost Hannah in season 1 where he realized he never did enough to care for her. That’s strike one. He loses Skye in Season 2 after they realize their relationship isn’t healthy, because Clay just wanted to stop her from committing suicide. Strike two. He finds Ani in Season 3 only to lose her in Season 4, because she’s already well-sorted and doesn’t need Clay’s help. That’s strike three. There seems to be a method to his pain where he keeps trying to help girls only to realize that he wasn’t helping them in the right way or that they never needed him. Imagine building up this pain of realizing that the one thing you want to do (care for others) is the one thing that you keep failing at. In fact, in season 4, in the lockdown episode, he questions whether he ever even helped Tyler get through his trauma. Clay’s conflict revolves around the fact that he believes that he was never capable of helping anyone and that makes him feel helpless. And it all starts with Hannah. So, in season 4, when he is left with no one to take care of, he struggles through his own emotionally turbulent journey to discover that before he can help others, he needs to help the most important person in his life: himself. It’s clear that throughout the seasons, Clay has been so involved in solving other people’s problems that he fails to solve his own. Which is why Season 4 had to be about Clay finally getting a chance to breathe and take care of himself. After all, if there is one thing this show has taught us, it is to take care of those around you. And that kind of caring starts only when you take care of yourself. Because, self-care is the essential ingredient in the recipe of life. 

Now, I have to admit: Though it was difficult for me to watch innocent and good Clay doing drugs, having sex, crashing cars, starting protests, burning a car, yelling at principals, and starting fights, it was necessary to have this character grow in this way. He had to venture out of his comfort zone and become crazy in order to realize what truly mattered to him and how to reach his fulfilled self. Of course, this kind of character arc is nothing new. We’ve seen it play out for centuries in popular texts, short stories and famous literature (Hamlet anyone?). In fact, one popular short story that comes to mind is Edgar Allen Poe’s “The Tell-Tale Heart.” Now, you might be wondering wait what? But, if you look closely, Clay’s spiral towards insanity closely charts that of the protagonist in Poe’s story. Let’s call him Joe. 

If you’re a reader of popular literature or have studied English literature, then you had to have encountered Poe’s famous short story, “The Tell-tale Heart.” It basically chronicles the living and breathing nature of guilt which can cause an individual to sabotage themselves. Literally, Joe plots and commits a carefully-planned murder only to have guilt rat him out. In the story, Joe has the police visit him after he commits the murder to investigate his house. After they find nothing, he invites them to stay a little longer and entertains them. He is so confident that he won’t be found that he continues to entertain them knowing that a dead body lies in his room. The guilt of knowing that he stopped someone’s heartbeat makes his heart beat louder and louder with guilt until he cannot take it anymore and he confesses to his crime. Why? Because guilt drives him up the wall and right back down to reveal the dead body parts stashed in his floorboard. Poe very smartly shows how after committing an ill-fated act, guilt leads you to second-guess yourself. Guilt throws suspicion over every small detail until the end result is that you sabotage yourself. And that’s exactly what happens to Clay. The resemblance between Clay’s story and Joe’s is uncanny. It’s almost like the writers of the show wrote Clay’s journey towards insanity with Poe’s story in mind. 

Fare warning: Tread with care, spoilers ahead.

Those who have watched the show know that the threatening phone calls, the graffiti (”Monty was framed”), the disabling of the security cameras and the senior camping trip prank was all dissociative-Clay’s doing. It’s a real mind-blowing scene when it hits Clay that he was the one sabotaging himself. The guilt of covering up Bryce’s murder was slowly killing him from the inside just like it was for Joe. It was like there was a part of Clay that did not want to stay quiet about the coverup and wanted the world to know what had happened exactly like Joe. Joe also could not take the fact that he got away with the murder and had to reveal his true colors. It’s something to think of that guilt can eat so much of your mind and soul that you become suspicious of everyone around you. Clay suspects almost every character (Winston, Diego, Charlie, Estella and even Tyler). His guilt actually turns out to be so murderous that it makes him do all sorts of crazy things that he would never do like start protests and yell at the principal. Now, 13 Reasons Why takes it a step further from Poe’s story by having Clay dissociate, so obviously there’s not too much damage control to do at the end (very convenient). Still, it is something to ponder on: that guilt is such a monstrous beast it can make one sabotage themselves. After all, there’s nothing more mentally and emotionally terrorizing than living with the fear of getting caught. Clay lives and sleeps (barely) with his guilt, never being able to escape it. And that’s why, it’s just easy to let it all out like Joe does at the end of the story. BUT, the major difference in 13RW is that Clay somehow finds a way to circumvent his guilt by justifying his choice of covering up a murder. By the end, he realizes that caring about his friends makes him who he is. With that logic, he comes to the conclusion that if he does something for his friends, then that is naturally right (even if that means killing someone and framing someone else for their murder, apparently). Look, it’s great that he finally understands who he is and what motivates him to behave in a certain way. Basically, losing himself helps him find his right and wrong. But, at the end of the day, morality has to be guided by more than your personal moral compass. It has to follow through with the laws set by society and killing and framing someone is just unjust and illegal no matter who those people are. You cannot justify your actions by saying that “they deserved to die” which, by the way, is what Jessica continues to do. I don’t know on what planet this kind of mentality is healthy, but I guess whatever planet that is, 13RW seems to exist on that sphere because it just ignores the injustice of what these characters chose to do. Yeah, all of them have to come to terms with their guilt, but they also have to realize that living a life carrying this secret is more burdensome than just coming out and saying it. I mean this kind of cover-up will never stop haunting them and they may never be able to move on from the past if they don’t let their guilt scream out from the rooftops. That’s where I think Poe’s story is the winner, because it realizes that you can’t let the guilt eat you up. Guilt exists for a reason so that those who commit crimes are eventually found out. Catharsis exists in letting the guilt shout from the rooftops. 

Unfortunately, though Clay exhibits all the signs of self-sabotage and guilt, he chooses not come out with the truth of his actions and those of his friend’s. According to Poe and me, the confession should have been the ultimate resolution to Clay’s arc. Clay shouldn’t have to suffer through the guilt in order to cover up for his friend’s mistakes. However, Clay’s suffering at the hands of his friends doesn’t matter, because the show chooses to neatly tie up the messy crimes and the horrible mistakes these characters committed in a 3 minute valedictorian speech. A speech which ultimately avows that love and acceptance is key to survival. Though that’s true, let’s be honest, it’s just an easy way to brush off the severity of Alex, Jessica, Ani, Clay, Justin, Charlie, Tyler and Zach‘s mistakes. If love and acceptance was key to survival, then we must put forth the question of whether Jessica, Clay and the rest of the characters have actually forgiven Bryce and Monty for their ill-deeds? Did they accept and understand Bryce when he needed to be? What’s lacking here is that though the characters might have accepted their mistakes in the last episode of the season, it still does not mean that they should not have to pay for their mistakes. Clearly, the show lets them get off easy, because even the police officers involved in the case cover up the truth about Bryce’s killer. Now, i’m going to sidestep here to say that I will acknowledge that the show does try to have the characters confess their guilt in a way so that there can be self-acceptance. Like, when Alex confesses to Winston in detail about why and how he killed Bryce. But, still: What message does this send to viewers? That if you have connections with powerful people you can get away with anything as long as you show regret and guilt for your actions? Regardless of whether or not it is a mistake or whether or not you are sorry for it, no crime should go unpunished and unconfessed. And I think the adults more than anyone have a huge hand in ensuring that the truth about Bryce’s murder never comes out. That being said, I’m not defending Bryce’s character in any way or saying that he was always a good person, but he was a human being regardless of the horrible crimes he committed. He does not deserve to have the truth of his murder hidden. The show seriously makes a huge mistake by having characters like Winston and the police officers decide whether or not they should let the truth of Bryce’s murder come out. 

Though it is the characters that covered up a serious crime, it’s the show that pulls off the biggest cover up of all: it attempts to dismiss its characters mistakes by excusing it as something that should just be understood and accepted rather than confessed. The show values understanding and acceptance over having the truth come out. Of course, understanding and acceptance of your guilt and your mistakes is a huge part of moving on, but confession is the final step to ensuring that these characters do not suffer a life filled with mental agony and despair. I know it seems that Clay’s journey into mental darkness was resolved with some therapy, understanding and self-reflection, we all know that covering up a murder is not a small crime and will eventually become unbearably taxing to the soul like it did for Joe. As Poe very neatly shows in his story, letting the truth come out about your past mistakes and crimes is the only road to living a mentally stable life filled with acceptance, forgiveness and understanding. After all, confession is not only good for the soul, but also for the mind. 

[thesmollestsnek]

On the meaning of beauty

What follows is 5-ish paragraphs of me rambling about how the word “beauty” is commonly used vs. what it (in my opinion) truly means, flavored with neurodivergent gifted child-typical inability to connect with people! Read at your own risk

There are people who spend their entire lives in search of “true beauty”. Flirting about the world, from place to place, activity to activity, never once stopping long enough to see the beauty all around them. Inside them. And then there’s me. 

I am different from most people, I find. This is true for a lot of things, but especially this. Most people see beauty as this unattainable “thing” that exists in a select few places, and I’ve never quite understood why. For me, beauty has always been all around me, pulsing, living, with a mind of its own. It is there, in that one type of moss that you’ve seen so often you no longer stop to look. It is there, in foggy mornings that are cold and crisp and leave you feeling refreshed, that are hard to see in and difficult to drive through. It is there, in a single leaf among thousands on the ground, covering up people’s “perfect” lawns. It is there, in a person’s eyes as they talk about something they love, a bit too loud for their forgotten surroundings. It is there, in a million little things that are always overlooked because they are mundane, as though beauty belongs to the novel and nothing more. “These things are ordinary, everyday occurrences. How could they possibly be beautiful?” But what I cannot understand, is how can people be so blind as to ignore the beauty all around them, and claim it is not there?

In a way, I get it. People are busy, there isn’t often time to stop and admire the world. But, I have never understood how someone can say they are looking for beauty, and start with far off places they may never be able to visit. Or with finely honed skills, that they could attain with time and effort, but would rather say, “Now this, this is beauty.” What they are truly saying, is “this is unattainable.” And meanwhile, I am busy looking at the grass, at children playing, at the berries that grow in my yard that we never planted but somehow got. At every little thing that is never seen but always there. There is beauty in that, if you stop to look. But no one ever does. And sometimes I wonder, are others simply not capable of stopping? Is there something that makes my eyes capable of seeing a different picture than others? The answer, of course, is no. My eyes are not special, in fact they are incapable of focusing properly without a special lens to bend the light before it reaches them. It is that while others see, I look, truly look. And perhaps that makes me strange. I’ve never minded being a bit strange, though, wouldn’t give it up for the world. Not if it meant seeing the world around me dull to what others seem to perceive it as. Not if it meant losing some part of myself so intrinsic I cannot name.

I’ve been told that I write “beautifully.” I’ve never quite been sure how to respond to that. When “beautiful” is so often taken to mean “unattainable,” and you have obtained it without realizing you have, what do you say? “Thanks, I wrote the world exactly as I saw it, and can’t understand how you don’t see it the same way.” I know that, in part, the beauty in my writing is due to the excessive amount of reading I did as a child, that I still do today. I know that, in majority, the “beauty” in my writing is due to that same strangeness that made me look at the smallest of things as beautiful, while those around me chased that which they could not attain. That which they did not even try to attain. How can they not see the beauty that is everywhere, when I am so often overwhelmed by it? When I have to choice but to draw or write or dance or do something, anything, to get it out of my head and back into the world? People ask how I write what I do, I don’t know, I’m not even the one in control, really. The spirits of beauty that you cannot see channel themselves through me and I am helpless to stop it. Do not want to stop it. Why would I, when I am left with such wonderful things, afterwards?

Is there something special about me in particular that makes me capable of expressing what so few even see? I don’t think so. Everyone has that spark inside them, if they would only draw it out. Perhaps they may not be able to express that spark in writing, or art, but there are a million ways to cultivate that intangible something that we all possess. It is in playing a sport, that moment of connection between teammates as they achieve something great. It is in learning a new hobby, not to be good but to simply enjoy it. It is in solving puzzles, putting time and effort into something without looking for any reward but the satisfaction of seeing it done. Perhaps mine is in words, and art, and other things that are tangible in a way that others can understand, even without putting any effort into it. That does not make mine any better than theirs, only different, and perhaps a bit more practiced. And yet, I’m the only one to see it that way. Perhaps that is what makes me strange. Where others see beauty as something ethereal that can be admired but never truly reached, I see it as something common, something everyday. Something worth striving for, because it is easily within reach, if one only spends a bit of time and effort reaching for it. Something that exists within the mere effort of trying, regardless of if the end result matches what the original goal was. Perhaps I am strange not because I came into this world already able to create something beautiful, (I didn’t), but because where others saw an insurmountable obstacle, I saw in inspiration to try. Where others merely admired, I attempted to imitate. And those shoddy imitations took on a life of their own, slowly growing and developing into this “beautiful” skill I have today. 

I have accepted that I do not see the world as others see it. I have accepted that this causes me to act in ways that others cannot understand. What I cannot understand, and thus cannot accept, is how people will endlessly chase after the mirage of “beauty” when it is staring them in the face. How they can simultaneously call what is so beautiful to me “mundane” while simultaneously calling that which is mundane to me “beautiful”. However, I don’t think that means people should stop calling my work beautiful (I’ve been told that’s a sign of low self esteem, and been rigorously trained in the art of accepting compliments :p), I think that others should stop discrediting that which around and within them as ordinary. As far as I am concerned, nothing about any individual is ever ordinary. And the world is so much more beautiful for it.

[not-a-red-rose]

Bit of a long read.

Warning: Topics are somehow sensitive, but please read, for this is also a way of education (or maybe you’ll just find out I’m a bad person, that depends lol.) But if you’ve got time, if you can make time, please read this. I accept constructive criticisms, some arguments that do not involve ad hominem, and additions if ever you are willing to say there is.

So, it's been approximately 5 years since I strayed away from being masungit and maldita (mean and snobby), because my Mom and Dad got a lot of trouble because of it (I did get a lot of trouble, too, only I didn't mind, because I really didn't care) and now I love being compassionate and kind

I really do, because I can't also stand an environment where most of the people are mean-spirited and always angry. I wanted to build a soft and light environment, so I tried to be soft and light, too.

Because change starts within, don’t you think?

So I did, and I became very good at it.

It feels great to see and watch people grow comfortable with their own skin around you because you don't judge them. It feels great to see and watch people love themselves more because they can see that you love them for who they are. It feels great to make people feel great and give them the love they deserve, because we are all human, and we don't deserve to always be shut down by people who suffer inside of themselves. So we create bonds, we love people for who they are, we eat with them, we cry with them, we laugh with them, we pat their backs when they are defeated and helpless, we shout “I’m proud of you!” to their faces when we feel proud of them, and we begin being kind.

But now that I have been terribly woken up by realizations, shaped by my experiences, and taught with other's advices, I am also beginning to see the predators in our forest.

I will sometimes think that maybe we aren't always aware that we are being predators, sometimes we are as clueless as the preys and we don't know any better. Sometimes we can be the toxic ones, too, so there is no point in stopping our self-development and realizations. Everyone starts as clueless and inexperienced— oftentimes, a monster isn’t a monster because he is evil, it is because he refuses to change so, even when he knows he is.

Bad people only become truly bad when they don’t care about being better.

I am not perfect, I am not all-knowing, I became a predator, too, for far too many times than I can count, and I am still trying and learning how not to be. But here are some of the things I realized:

• The awful mindset of our society is that if someone's kind, they are supposed to tolerate everything you do. (even and especially gaslighting, guilt-tripping, backstabbing then denying it later, always saying "yes," and being soft even when hurt and angry.)

No. People who are kind do not deserve such abuse and manipulation (we don’t deserve abuse and manipulations,) so please, quit saying, “mabait naman ‘yan si ano e, okay lang ‘yan sa kan’ya!” (Don’t stress about it too much, she’s kind, so that’ll be okay for her!)

And what, you’re going to victim-blame again? You’ll say, “you’re too kind, you’re teaching people to step all over you.” Dude, I’m not teaching them anything like that, really, they are teaching that to themselves because they want to abuse and take advantage of the kindness. If there is no kindness because kind people took your advice to not be kind so people won’t step all over them, then what would become of our world? Common sense, sweetheart.

• Normalize saying no. If you mean no, say no. If you mean maybe, say maybe. If you mean I’ll try, say I’ll try. If you mean yes, say yes. Normalize saying and receiving no, not everyone has to agree and do what you suggest them to do.

Normalize saying no, if no is what you want to say. I don't care if they hail you as a saint and they label you as someone who tolerates everything. Say no if you mean no. Say it firmly. Don't waver. Your voice may shake but say no if what you mean is no.

(“Normalize saying no” doesn't just tackle suitors and people who want to be your lover. This also tackles people you don't want to spend time with, things you don't want to do, places you don't want to go to, words you don't want to say, and etc.)

say no. say it loudly. say it firmly.

• Unfortunately, we are not educated about gaslighting and guilt-tripping, or any psychological/mental manipulations, enough to defend our own selves from manipulators, narcissists, and terrible behaviors of people.

We should be educated.

Please read verified and credible articles about it, listen to classes when it’s the topic, research about it, observe it. You may be doing it, too, so please learn about it.

• We should stay away from "friends" who hurt, invalidate, manipulate, abuse, and force you to do things you do not want to do. I don't care if it makes you alone-- alone is better than being with people who will just use and hurt you.

• Do not try to repaint red flags. Red flags are red flags, unless you are color blind, although please do not be figuratively color blind. If you cannot settle it through peaceful conversations and negotiations, it’s time to cut ties. CUT TIES. No one is important enough, for you to stay with them even when they exhaust and drain the hell outta you. Let them go. If they don’t wanna walk away, then you do the walking away. Don’t stay there. Life is too short to deal with people who take and take and take and take your peace and who obliges you to fix them.

• I do not have any idea how to say this properly— but you cannot expect your romantic partner/ lover to take the heavy weight of your mental messes and emotional baggage just because you cannot deal with it yourself. Stop dropping all the weight to someone and expecting them to fix you because you are broken.

I am not invalidating the love lives of lovers who stay through each other’s destructive jealousies and insecurities— I am only saying that we don’t have to. We aren’t obligated to fix an individual just because we love them. That’s what’s cruel there, when we find someone we can and will love and we would like them to be in our future, but they come across as toxic and draining and destructive, and they don’t want to adjust to be a better person, we gotta let go of them.

It is always your choice if you’re going to stay with them— if you can and you want to, then stay. If you can’t and you don’t want to, then don’t.

This may sound harsh and (even) evil, but normalize leaving people when you cannot deal with them any longer. Normalize leaving people. Normalize people leaving you. Those who can and who want to stay will stay, will always find reasons to come back, and will always stay. Remember that.

• Normalize rebuking and criticizing the ideas of the people who make rape, poverty, mental illness, and anything-that-shouldn’t-be-joked-about jokes. Normalize criticizing, standing up to it whether it came from your parents, a very dear friend, or a romantic partner. Sensitivity shall not be filtered. Respect shall not be filtered. Note that I said “ideas of the people” not “the people” because we should not hate people so easily, maybe they just need a little education, a little more push to leave that mindset and perspective.

Well, if they have been presented with enough and sufficient facts of why they shouldn’t think like that and shouldn’t joke about that, but they still haven’t changed their mind, let us go back to what I said earlier.

Bad people only become truly bad when they don’t care about being better. :>

• Say what you mean and mean what you say (this one is the hardest so far because man, we are reckless with words.) Like what I said earlier— about the saying no. If you say yes, darling, I do hope you mean yes. If you make a promise, do your best to meet it! Treat your words like they represent your dignity, because oftentimes, they do. You believe it or not, words are powerful. It can heal and mend, but it can also tarnish and destroy.

“The words you speak become the house you live in.” ― Hafiz

• We all need healing. We all have wounds we need to heal from. I do not know jack about your problems and you might not know about mine, but we cannot deny that we need healing. Because if we deny, and we think that we’re a-ok even when we are not, the wounds will remain wounds and we will bleed on people who did not cause it. We will punish others because we are experiencing anguish inside of us. Do not let that be you. Be soft on yourself enough to acknowledge that you are hurt and in need of healing— that way, you are soft and tender with others, too.

• What you feel isn’t always what I feel, and what I feel isn’t always what you feel. We have different capacities, different perspectives, different emotional wavelengths. What’s trouble for me can not be trouble for you, and vice versa. However, that does not give us any power to disregard what others feel. We need a lot of understanding in this life, and acceptance towards the diversity of every aspect in our lives. Respect is needed, always respect. Respect should be the default (that being a default, it can also be lost).

(But this^^ doesn’t always apply to all things such as being homophobic and racist, because that perspective and mindset drives one to disrespect existence, and even act out violently, set prejudices and be downright inhumane. That is not what I am talking about.)

This is not all, but if I type all I might accidentally write a book about it, so this stops, for now. Note that your understanding of the words I’ve said depends on how well you interpret it, whether you have prejudices or you do not, whether you will use it for good purposes or for bad.

[sarahhlauren]

Okay. Here we go. I’m really not sure where to start so I guess I’ll start from the beginning of all this madness. It was May 18, 2019. My mom’s birthday. I headed to work in the afternoon. I always closed on Sunday nights. My favorite bartender was working. We had spent the night making stupid jokes and making each other laugh until the last customer walked out the door. I closed at work like I usually did, not trying to stay too late because it was a school night. Monday morning comes, I wake up and for the first time, my body was not mine. It was not my own skin, it was not my own legs, my own hands. I couldn’t tell you what my face looked like because it was maybe 2 weeks until I could look at myself in the mirror. But, the world did not stop. There was work to be done, right? I had my first therapy session at 9 am, because prior, I had been dealing with severe depression, a final at 11, and my last final at 2. I had to focus on doing well and finishing out the semester, putting aside the fact that I felt like a ghost in my own body and mind. For the record, I got a 4.0 that semester, for the first time ever in college.

So it's late afternoon, I made it through my finals. I text my best friend, saying I need to come over and talk. As soon as I laid on her bed, I burst into tears as it took everything in me to say the words, “He raped me.” Even now, a year later, I hate that. It will never not make my stomach hurt. Within an hour, I was talking to three police officers, going over the incident in disgusting detail over, and over, and over again. Being asked questions a young woman should never have to be asked, especially by three young male officers. A few hours later, I was at the hospital. I went through the entire questioning process again from the nurse. A few moments later, I found myself standing there, naked. Being photographed, touched by a stranger, poked and prodded. I will never forget the posters of puppies with silly hats they have on the ceiling, as if that’s supposed to distract you from the flashes of the camera as you lay with your legs in the air. She forgot to mention that the hospital’s Plan B would have me in bed for 2 days. It felt like my insides were being scraped out with a rusty fork.

A few days later I eventually came home, and my mom was eager. She knew something was wrong but wanted to let me tell her on my own terms. The look in her face as tears streamed down her face fills me with so much anger I could punch something. That she had to hear those words and understand the gravity of the situation, and that I was pursuing legal action.

It was exactly one week after I saw him again. Not only did I see him, but I worked with him. Not just this one night, but for months. Because the investigation was active, I couldn’t say anything to my managers. This was the hardest part. For weeks, to act like everything was normal. To act like I wasn’t having multiple panic attacks throughout my shift. To act like I wasn’t getting alerts on my apple watch that my heart rate was pushing 120 bpm for hours. To act like I wasn’t in the presence of my rapist, as he was still approaching me. To act like I was listening to customers talk, when I was blacked out. If I didn’t act like things were normal, it could jeopardize the investigation. I am fully aware that some people may be questioning my actions. I don’t feel I have to defend myself to anyone. It was an impossible and unimaginable situation. I did the best that I could at the time, and I am so proud of myself for it. I chose to not take the easy way out. I chose to not quit my job. I chose to fight.

About early June, I was finally able to tell my GM what happened. I told them, “I do not feel comfortable working with him, ever again.” The very next shift, a few days later, my GM told me he was working that night and asked if I would “be okay.” What was I supposed to say? If I said no, I would get sent home, and in my mind at the time, that was letting him win. He took so much from me and I refused to let him take any more. So I worked with him that night, and for months. Being retraumatized over and over and over again. It wasn’t until months later that I could see how toxic that environment was for me. In the moment, I truly thought that I could just tough it out and I would be okay. I couldn’t see how much worse those months made my PTSD. Solidifying dozens of triggers, some still unknown to me until I face them.

About 5 months pass by, no news on the investigation. I had heard nothing from the investigator. These months were such a cycle of torture. My job wouldn’t do anything about him without a police report, and the police weren’t giving any updates. Nothing was moving. Meanwhile I am working with him a few days a week, retraumatizing my brain and body dozens of times over.

Trauma, anxiety and depression are really weird. Yes you have the common symptoms of lethargy, no motivation, sleep or appetite issues, but I feel like nobody talks about the blackouts and the memory loss. I have such little memory except for anything trauma related for those first few months. I can tell you every little detail about the following days, and weeks related to the incident. I can tell you what kind of car he has, his license plate, the exact parking spot that he parked his car in. I can tell you exactly what time he drove to work, which days he worked. I checked his schedule every week so I had time to mentally prepare myself to work with him on a given night. Do I remember my college visits? Not really. Do I remember anything I did that summer? No, unless I look back at photos. The memory loss is real, and it's weird.

Finally, my job transferred him to a different store. I felt a sense of freedom. Freedom to turn around at work without fear that he was looking at me. Freedom to walk to my car at night without a manager’s escort. Freedom to feel comfortable again, or at least try to.

Around mid-October, I met with the investigators again about the progress of the case. This time, it was two women investigators and I in a small room in the Sex Crimes Investigation Department in Orange County. It felt like they were on my side, or at least they were supposed to be. I didn’t anticipate being thoroughly questioned again. The same intrusive questions felt different coming from a woman, almost worse in a way. We got to the point where the investigators told me straight up, “it's your word against his, we have no proof of his guilt and without it, can’t move forward.” That was it. It was over. There was nothing I could do.

I did my best to move on, whatever the heck that means. There’s a lot I could say about my healing process, that is still very much going on and will be for a while. I’ll try to keep it limited. The most important thing I want to say about it, is that it is not linear. From May-August I thought I was fine, I was in denial. Then, someday it hit me and I understood the situation on a different level. One of the things I learned is how depression can impact memory. I have little memory of that summer, outside of events and emotions related to my assault. Each day brings something different. Similar to grief, some days are better than others. Triggers that once upset me, no longer upset me. Triggers I didn’t know existed last August, send me into a panic now. I still live in constant fear of seeing him, knowing that he is out there, living his life. Working through PTSD on top of preexisting mental health conditions was more than I ever could have imagined. It’s hard, it sucks and I wouldn’t wish it upon my worst enemy. I don’t have much else to say about that right now.

One of the most interesting concepts I read about in a book about trauma is called “learned helplessness”. I remember learning about this maybe junior or senior year in psychology class, but it never stuck until it applied to me. “Learned helplessness, in psychology, a mental state in which an organism forced to bear aversive stimuli, or stimuli that are painful or otherwise unpleasant, becomes unable or unwilling to avoid subsequent encounters with those stimuli, even if they are “escapable,” presumably because it has learned that it cannot control the situation.” Essentially, it explains why traumatized individuals tend to stay in the environments or climates that harbor the trauma. For me, it helps to explain why I stayed at work instead of quitting.

At the risk of sounding cliche, I would not be where I am today without the support system that I have. I am grateful every single day for my family and loved ones who support me unconditionally and have been with me at any point in this process.

I want to recognize how lucky I am, because I truly am. I am lucky to have been in a position where I could go to the police for help (regardless of the outcome), because many victims do not have that luxury. I am lucky to have had access to medical care. I am lucky to have continuous access to mental health professionals. I am lucky to have friends and family who believe me, who never questioned me. I am lucky that it wasn’t worse than it was. I am lucky to be alive, because not everyone is as lucky as I am.

I have a lot of reasons as to why I wanted to share my story. I want to make very clear that pity and attention are neither of my reasons. One of the main ones, is that I want to contribute the conversation about sexual assault and sexual violence. A big part of what motivated me to pursue legal action was the thought of me not being his last victim. Almost immediately I felt a sense of responsibility. Responsibility to do something about this, because again, I am lucky enough to have access to resources to do so. I hope this can spark conversations about the necessity of affirmative and continuous consent, regardless of circumstances.

Another big reason is to highlight the series of injustices throughout this process that have nothing to do with my rapist. I will not name names, however many of you will know the people that I am talking about. In no way am I attempting to slander them, I aim to simply draw attention to where I felt they failed me. I just want everyone to do better. To try harder. To do the right thing, regardless of company policy or whatever hardship it might bring them.

The first one, I believe was on behalf of the police. I understand the need to secure the privacy of the investigation, but they told me to “go back to work and act like everything is normal.” This was, and is wrong. I felt like I had to, because the police told me, and I’m supposed to trust them, right? Wrong. I feel they could have come up with a better solution, providing me more support than that.

The second one, would be by SO many people within the company that I worked for. My GM, the senior HR manager, and the 2 regional managers who were aware of the situation. All of them had the ability to not only relocate him, but fire him at the snap of their fingers, but they didn’t. I have my thoughts on why they didn’t, and all of them put my wellbeing at the bottom of the pile. The senior HR manager called me every so often to check in, and see how I was doing. It was made very clear that he didn’t give a shit about me and this was just a routine part of his job when he told me over the phone, “Thank goodness I don’t have a daughter, only sons.” This HR manager ultimately ended up telling my rapist the police were involved, which is very much illegal for a few reasons, and is ultimately responsible for ruining the investigation.

The third one was the investigator within the Special Victims Unit assigned to my case. Take this one with a grain of salt. I don’t know if I just got a subpar investigator or this is how they all are, but Olivia Benson would put them to shame. Without going into too much detail, I never felt heard. I felt like they couldn’t wait to get this case out of the way and never put in any real effort.

I would absolutely be lying if I said that I didn’t have any anger. I am so angry. I am fucking angry that this happened. I am so angry at all the ‘adults’ that I went to for help, and didn’t receive it. I am angry that I’m not the first girl that he’s done this to. I’m angry that I can’t prove it. I’m angry that in a court of law it’s his word against mine. I’m angry that he admitted he heard me say no, but it was the one time I didn’t put my phone in my pocket and take a voice recording. I am angry that a year later, I am still suffering every single day. I still have nightmares. I still have panic attacks. I still think about it every damn day. I am angry that he gets to live his life as he wishes. I am angry that I am filled with petrifying fear that it will happen again. I am angry that I’ve spent months, now a year, in therapy talking about him. I am angry that I am angry!!

20% of women will experience rape in their lifetime, and 1 out of every 10 rape victims is male. This is real and it happens. It happened to me. But it didn't have to. And it doesn’t have to keep happening. We all hold the power to make it stop. Start the conversations. Don’t laugh at jokes about sexual assault, because it’s not funny. Correct your friends, family, coworkers, bosses, and neighbors when they make jokes that contribute to rape culture. Stop supporting that behavior. If you see something, DO SOMETHING. Be the one to stop it. Be the one to step in. Be the difference. Break the cycle, do better, be better.

Again, thank you to all of those who have stuck by my side at any point in my journey. I appreciate you all more than you know and I love you all so much more than my words can possibly express.

Thank you, and you know who you are, for showing me what it’s like to be respected, to be loved. That it's possible to be comfortable in my own skin. To let your light shine through to the darkness that existed within me. To show me how strong I am, what I am capable of, and what I am worth. I am forever grateful for you and your grace.

For those of you who aren’t as fortunate, I am here. I am here to listen, to confide in, to help, to advocate, to love, to protect you. I am here for you.

For those of you know someone who has experienced sexual assault or violence, believe them. Be there and listen to what they want and what they need. Love them and remind them of the good, because there is so much more good than bad in the world.

For those of you that have read this far, thank you. Thank you for taking the time to hear my story. I hope to have impacted you for the better.

-sb :)

[valiancyvulnerability]

Adolescents and Mental Health

The years during adolescence present many complex problems that are often times very specific to that window of time in their life. Whether it be something as minuscule as schoolwork, school drama, boy or girl problems--These small issues can be the origin of deeper and darker underlying feelings and problems.

That being said, there are many more elements that play a role in what affects a teenager’s mental state than there would have been thirty years ago. Social media, the excessively greater amount of schoolwork, and the many problems globally that directly affect our generation. With this though, many parents may find it difficult to grasp a complete understanding of what could possibly be going through their child’s brain, especially when they don’t fully experience any anxiety, depression, etc. themselves. “What could you possibly be anxious about? Nothing is happening!” or “What could you possibly be depressed about? You are so lucky to have what you have!” These are frequent questions, which seems reasonable to ask from a parent’s point of view, but from the child, it’s like nails on a chalkboard. Here’s why:

For me, I ran into my worst struggles March of 2020. As COVID-19 began to take effect rapidly in our hometown, I found myself isolated (as I should have been--stay safe!). The complete switch in routine slapped me across the face. I coped with my issues my whole childhood by surrounding myself with my friends. As I am a very people-oriented kid that likes to keep himself busy at all times, the Zoom calls, texting, and social media got monotonous and lost its charm very quickly. During my time alone, I began to come to terms with my sexuality, and chose to publicly come out as gay, knowing it would be a good time to do so while I don’t have to be out and about and around my peers for long. Shortly after that, I began to have some eating issues that hit me in full swing. I stopped  eating almost entirely, hated the way my body looked, and began passing out almost every other day. Once I tried to get that under control, my general anxiety took complete ownership of my being for a good month. I would sit in my room and shake, I would drive around and cry in the dark for hours, and I would pull all-nighters obsessively cleaning my room. Although I have these very real problems that took control of me and my life, they stemmed from minuscule things. It stemmed from different experiences I had in high school. I was bullied, I had friends that were demeaning towards me, and I had problems with girls throughout those four years. Each of those things seem small to me now, but they were very powerful at the time, and the traces of those feelings I felt then never truly left, and in fact, just built up to become a monster of sorts.

Now, this is where the role as a parent comes in. I had gotten in a fight with my parents one night about a month ago, and I went to my room and isolated myself from the situation altogether. I could hear them talking about me from my room, and I couldn’t take it. One of my biggest fears in life is disappointing my friends and my family, so it was hard for me to listen to. I went out into our living room and let it go. I yelled until my throat hurt. I spilled everything I had been feeling the past month and it was completely unrelated to the argument, but it came out. Because it was so out of the blue, my parents were quick to question it’s validity and it made me feel like my problems weren’t real because they weren’t real to them since I had done my best to keep it hidden out of their sight.

If you are a parent reading this and you feel or know that your child may be going through a mental instability, you have options as to how to help them.

1. LISTEN

     This is the first thing I can’t stress enough. If your child brings something up to you. Whether they’re upset about something small, whether they are seeking medical help, or if they want to tell you about some serious inner conflicts they are experiencing, you have to listen. Don’t interrupt them. Don’t disregard what they say. Don’t say anything to make their problems seem smaller or less valid. When this happens, it truly feels like there is nobody that can assist them in getting the help they need, because nine times out of ten, there is a reason they are choosing to tell you.

2. BE ATTENTIVE

     The signs of mental illness come in many different forms, and sometimes they aren’t just going to jump out at you for you to see. Sometimes they go through periods of overworking themselves, or doing the exact opposite and have no motivation to do anything at all. Sometimes they don’t sleep at all, or sometimes they don’t STOP sleeping. Pay attention to what they say, or if you notice any signs of substance abuse or self harm. There can be mood swings, sudden emotional outbursts (such as the one I mentioned with my parents), or constant states of feeling panicked or anxious. As I had said, not everything will be apparent or in plain sight, but if you make a point to look for these signs, it may be helpful in having a conversation later on, which brings me to my next point.

3. HAVE THE CONVERSATION

     If your child hasn’t made it a point to talk to you first, but you have noticed some behaviors that worry you, or even if it’s just a conversation you want to have so they know that they are safe to come to you, don’t be afraid to sit them down and talk to them. Mental health, especially in teenagers, has an odd stigma around it, because the majority of us are trained to suppress and forget, when in reality, that is the most toxic and unhealthy behavior to become accustomed to. Make sure that you express to your child that their feelings and emotions matter, and just because they may be battling the negative ones, doesn’t mean they are any weaker than anyone else.

4. DO NOT REFUSE TO HELP

     I cannot stress this enough: if your child comes to you expressing that they want to seek medical help, whether it be put on meds, to see a therapist, or request a change in your home that may be a better healing environment, do not shut it down. By all means, take time to think about it, but do not refuse to help. As teenagers, we can’t just go see a therapist on our own, get our own prescription meds, or change the dynamic of our families. It has to be a group effort, whether parents like the idea of it or not. It seems scary and concerning to go through the motions of getting your child medical help, but that’s exactly what it is: help. The alternative of assisting them is having a child that feels like a hostage within their own mind, and as a parent, I genuinely would hope that you would prefer a happier child that is healing over the opposite.

There are more positive steps you could take as a parent in helping your child, but most of them are specific to the individual situation they may be going through, and that is up to the parents to take those steps on their own. 

One thing I can say to any teenagers that may be reading this, mentally healthy or not, be kind to one another. As cliche as it often sounds, you never know what somebody else is going through. We all come from different walks of life, with differing personalities and different thought processes. Many issues begin from the way we treat each other. This doesn’t mean you have to be walking on eggshells with the people you choose to surround yourself with, but it does mean that as a friend and peer, you need to listen, you need to be attentive, and you need to be there for them. That is what’s important. Wanting to improve your mental health doesn’t make you weak. It doesn’t make you small. It doesn’t make you helpless.

That being said, there is so much more that needs to be done. Conversations about mental health need to be normalized, especially in teenagers. Remove the stigma, be there for those around you, and be kind to one another.

[myoddramblings]

the world, coronavirus and people

Well the world’s infrastructure is crumbling around us as we wait and watch from homes in self-isolation. This is the state of the world in the midst of the coronavirus. Depending on where you are in the world, it may not be the midst of it. Yet.

There are those in places such as China, which went through a peak in February and are coming out of the worst slowly, despite numbers of imported cases still remaining there is a sense that there is a lessening of domestic transmission creating a sense of fragile hope that there is a possibility for recovery. Then you look at places such as Italy which is currently the “scary” place. The one whose daily death numbers are quoted in conversation as a reminder by and to those who are scared but fortunate enough to not yet be there. These are places that are currently taking and have taken maximum (a relative term) precautions of quarantine and lockdown and where the full enormity of the crisis have been understood only due to the extent of spread and have been forced into these measures.

Then we have those who are yet to be affected on this scale, that are seeing initial numbers of cases growing and we observe their reactions to this. There are those across Europe closing borders, the Netherlands, Germany and the USA in Northern America to prevent cases being imported. In airports testing is undertaken and in some countries all incoming passengers are put into quarantine. There are extreme measures put into place to avoid spread and contagion on the levels that has been seen elsewhere. Places that have managed to contain it thus far but balance on this precipice of fragile stability until cases can no longer be contained. The “yet” is what is terrifying for these countries, witnessing the effect on other economies and being aware of what will come.

There are two wide categories of reaction to the virus which can be seen: those who want to continue as much as possible as normal (whether they are at-risk or not) and those who are changing their lifestyle around the virus (whether by choice or not). There is much criticism from those in the latter to those in the former, but the reality is that for all of us there will come a point where we all are part of the latter. The main reproach towards those continuing with their daily lives is the disregard that they have for those at risk and the impact that they have by potentially spreading the virus further, selfishly so. I disagree with this label. It implies malicious thought, but it is not malice that drives this. It is fear. All of us are aware of what is coming, whether it has happened, is happening or is yet to happen. We all know life has to change, the only difference is that some of us want to hold onto that sense of normality for a little longer. For the younger generations in particular, this may be the first time that the news around us directly affects us. The financial crisis was something that happened, but to me (not applicable to everyone) it was something I heard on the radio, that went on in the background whilst life went on. 2020 has been a year of horrifying news stories, the Australian bushfires, the rising political tensions between China and the US, but again whilst terrifying to hear about, they were other, things that were background noise to our ordinary lives. This is something else, something we cannot avoid or ignore. Those deemed selfish are aware of how life will change for them. They are just attempting to hold onto normality up until they have to accept reality.

Everywhere we have seen the money pouring in to support the crumbling economy to avoid a total collapse, with figures already quoting numbers worse than the 2008 financial crisis. The thing is, in this case it is not man-made, the panic of the financial crisis was (not purely) financial, the effects were on people’s livelihoods whereas now it is on people’s lives.

The current situation can be likened to any number of horror movies where the world erupts into panic but the reality is so much more gradual in the little changes in people’s actions. We see it in our shops where people’s stockpiling in preparation for shortage has only made it a more imminent reality and breeds further panic. We see it in the masks that have become commonplace and the hand sanitisers that are now out up everywhere to give a sense of control, that if we just wash our hands it will all be fine and it’ll just go away soon enough. The real fear comes from the reality that no one knows when this will truly be over. We hold arbitrary figures in our minds, fourteen days in self-isolation, six months until university opens again, hoping that normality will return soon enough for us all to return to everyday routine at some specific date. Aristotle’s words seem especially appropriate at this point in time as all we know is that we know nothing. From world leaders to the scientist working on a vaccine, no one truly knows anything about what will happen to the world.

The truth of the world is that it runs on people. People and their expectations and reactions and actions are what drives everything. The financial system, at its core, simply works on predicting expectations, of how people will react to key events and preparing for this. So how do we prepare for mass panic? The collapse of Northern Rock is often quoted as the beginning of the financial crisis in the UK which was due to a bank run, the cause of which is panic. Nowadays preventative measures are taken so that the financial system does not reach that point again but the reality is that fragility remains. The economy runs on people and how they behave.

But now it is not the economy that is failing (not that that isn’t also happening) it is the people. The pandemic brings fear for our lives and our loved ones that we cannot ignore. Every realisation of another person close to me in danger makes the situation more and more grave but also brings me to the realisation that we are all helpless. Our literal only option as people to stop the spread of the virus is self-isolation and social distancing. At the time where you want and need people around you is when we must stay apart for the sake of those same people. Isolation becomes separation as friends head home across closing borders with promises to keep in touch but with the knowledge that for some we don’t know when we will see each other again. There is no certainty when every day there a new announcement and last-minute flights are booked at extortionate prices to avoid being stuck for God knows how long away from home. A farewell is a privilege at this point. There are so many goodbyes that will have to do for however long it may be as we head into isolation. Can we really blame those “selfish” people for trying to stay normal for as long as possible in a world that is becoming more and more abnormal by the moment. That is not to say that they are justified in acting as they do but the condemnation towards them should not be so harsh without some understanding of why they are doing so.

Heading home myself for a presumable six months, there was a sense of normality I expected. Not even that, just an awareness of what it would hold for me, regardless of how the virus spreads I knew I could expect a solid period of inactivity on my behalf. In complete honesty, isolation at home for me holds very little difference to how I would spend my time regardless of the virus. What I did not think about, though I was aware of it, was the impact of the virus on my parents. As healthcare workers there is a certain tension there and likely in the whole system that further drives the fragility of the world, and the UK in particular, home. We as people consider the strain on them and the risk they put themselves at as individuals but they must consider the wider impacts. One (unexpected) positive patient does not just mean that those in contact are now at risk but also that they are out of commission, leaving even fewer behind in an industry that needs more. here are appeals for retired workers to come back to support the NHS but even at the current levels of infections in the UK there are cracks in the system. The lack of funding which was public knowledge to all before the crisis will slowly be the demise of the system as pressure increases on these workers who are personally taking precautions that the system cannot afford to provide them with. Doctors and nurses are having to pay out of pocket for proper protective equipment that is not provided. I cannot claim to be any type of authority of the working and reasoning of why the operations are running as such but I can only assume the funding is being held for the peak of infection but the reality is that peak is only being drawn closer and more extensive with the rate of infection likely not only being higher but also unknown amongst healthcare workers than suspected due to the way the situation is being handled as well as the fucking mess that the whole thing is. The world runs on people and as those who are most key at this point in time (and always) are being recognised, they are also most in danger themselves and unlike the rest of us, their isolation affects not themselves but those who need the most care. The strain on the healthcare system will only increase in the coming months before we come out the other side, whenever that may be.

These key workers are being recognised but also others who are often disregarded in society; the shop workers, delivery drivers and so many others who make up the fabric of society but are not viewed in the same way as the healthcare workers. The recognition of the work that these people do is coming out with the slow realisation that the economy runs on these “invisible workers” who cannot work from home, as so many of us are now doing, and still have our lives continue in the way that they are.

People. It has already been mentioned here but  people are what everything depends on. And that is one of the few good things that have come out of this. People are coming together, going where they are needed, set technicians from offering up their skills to build hospitals, companies reassigning production to those things most in demand, initiatives for students to assist the elderly and vulnerable in the community who cannot survive self-isolation by themselves. People are coming together for the important things. So many are in self-isolation, and even though physically apart there is the knowledge that we are all together in this situation, doing our best, whatever that may be.

The world runs on people. Remember that.  

21/03/20