#The pain is not worth while I need to remind myself trans is beautiful and I am so happy to know this now

[othercrossee]

I'm so hellbent on never telling people I'm trans or repeating myself about my pronouns and everything so I get used to being misgendered a lot and ofc people not respecting my pronouns and opinions in general if they were to listen once when I said I'm trans, so it so euphoric to be alone and being like I'm trans, I'm nonbinary and ive never been happier than now

[shemakesmusic-uk]

HARD FEELINGS, the new collaborative project of Hot Chip's Joe Goddard and Amy Douglas, have signed to Domino and unveiled their debut outing 'Holding On Too Long' which is teamed with a Katie Paul-directed video. Douglas says of their debut single, "'Holding On Too Long' is the common denominator of the entire musical union of Amy and Joe. In this "opera of sad bangers" here is its key aria, its "Un Bel Di" from Madame Butterfly or the "Mad Scene" from Lucia Di Lammermour, the unforgettable moment of the story wherein our heroine stands up defiantly and has her moment to wail, scream and cry her pain and fury centre stage to the world." HARD FEELINGS was formed after Goddard reached out to Douglas on Twitter after hearing her work, and simply asking: "Amy, can we make a thing?" [via Line Of Best Fit]

After recently announcing her debut album Flaw Flower is due June 25 via Illegal Data, London-based musician Harriet Zoe Pittard, aka Zoee, is sharing another slice of her multi-faceted art-pop sounds with her new single'Host'. Speaking about the track, Zoee said "‘Host’ describes the disconcertingly replicant-like nature of a once starry-eyed lover who becomes increasingly detached. The video is inspired by The Twilight Zone and was shot on location in a forest close to where I grew up in Berkshire."

Nashville-based songwriter Madi Diaz releases 'Nervous,' a new single about recognizing unhealthy coping mechanisms. The song’s frank lyrics are bellied by infectious guitar and Diaz’s buoyant voice: “I know why I lie to myself // I’m not really looking to get healthy // I have so many perspectives I’m losing perspective I make me nervous.” The accompanying video was shot in Nashville and directed by Jordan Bellamy. It was inspired by and includes an homage to the final scene of Andrei Tarkovsky's film The Stalker, a film that has always resonated with Diaz through its otherworldly nature, as well as its thoughtful and often anxiety inducing pace. “You know when you hold a mirror up to a mirror and you get an infinite amount of reflections from every angle? That’s what ‘Nervous’ is about,” says Diaz. “It’s when you’re in a loop of looking at yourself from every vantage point until you’re caught up in your own tangled web of bullshit. It’s about catching yourself acting out your crazy and you’re finally self-aware enough to see it, but you’re still out of your body enough and curious enough to watch yourself do it.”

Buzzy duo XVOTO have announced that their eagerly-awaited debut EP will be arriving on June 4 on One Two Many. Sharing new single ‘Friends’ alongside the news, Jazz Alonso explains that the track is rooted in “the people who have irreversibly changed you and then having to pretend you’re unphased by them when you’re in the same room. Meanwhile you’re trying to work out what your new boundaries are: can you talk about the past? Can you cry together? Can you show how much pain you’re in around them? ‘If you fish me, I’ll play dead’ means: if you make a move, I’ll pretend I’m dead inside and don’t want you back.” Accompanied by a new vid, Jazz adds, “For this video I always imagined an aquarium because of the fish lyrics and because I think looking at fish in a tank is a really nice symbol of looking back at a relationship: you’ll always have your take on it and feel you have control over that narrative cause it’s a memory, but the reality is that truth is fluid and moves. You’re not looking at an image, you’re looking at something that’s alive. Then the scenes of us getting tattooed on our backs are symbols for something beautiful that scars you - you might move on from something but it’ll still inform the way you move forward. In the video there’s some cheating, some reminiscing, some beauty and some pain.” [via DIY]

Ashe has released new cut 'Me Without You' as the latest singe off her debut album Ashlyn. It comes teamed with a Jason Lester-directed video. Ashe says of the new single, "'Me Without You' is my follow up to 'Moral Of The Story'. It's saying you thought that I needed you to be who I am. There is my past relationship...I had multiple people... You know, assumed that I needed them in my life to feel confident or to be me and "Me Without You" is just this record that's like, ‘Ooh, I am so good on my own'." [via Line Of Best Fit]

Mia Nicolai is a true internationalist. Born in Amsterdam to a Russian mother, she learned from a young age to move between languages and cultures, accepting them as equal. This all fuels her future-pop vision, a trans-genre approach laden with colour, one that picks from multiple sources. New single 'People Pleaser' is a surging, coherent, ultra-potent offering, a song that dwells on identity, and the processes by which it is defined. "This song is about the journey towards finding yourself," she explains. "It can be very difficult to be true to your inner values when all you do is please the people around you instead of your inner needs. I’ve always come across as a strong-minded person. But in reality, I’m capable of helping everyone BUT myself. At some point I felt so uncomfortable in my own skin that I couldn’t even breathe properly..." We're able to share the dazzling new video, directed by Isabelle Griffioen and produced by That’s What She Set. A surreal but completely engaging experience, it embodies everything Mia Nicolai sets out to do - put people on the back foot, and alert them to her presence. [via Clash]

Singer-songwriter Gracie Abrams has shared her poignant new single 'Mess It Up' and its accompanying video via Interscope Records. Directed by Matty Peacock, the video for 'Mess It Up' finds Abrams attempting to bake a cake and repeatedly dropping the gorgeously frosted final product on the ground. That bittersweet back-and-forth between determination and disappointment is a perfect match for Abrams’s incisive lyrics, which simultaneously convey a deep longing for forgiveness and an unshakable sense of frustration. Produced by and co-written with her frequent collaborator Blake Slatkin, the track’s stark guitar work and driving rhythms slowly take on a powerful momentum, ultimately building to a sweetly triumphant climax. [via Vacancy]

Vocalist and guitarist Maya Delilah shares the visuals for her new single 'Need A Word With Cupid'. The track unravels into a punchy number that gives you a hit of both dopamine and female empowerment. Written about realising your worth after a relationship breakup, Maya’s lyrics are little witty statements that we can all use to remind ourselves who the hell we are. “Last Tuesday morning I just realised you’re shit” – it’s the truth. The video sees her waiting in cupid’s reception ready to get her money back because, damn, this boy was not worth her energy. At. All. 'Need A Word With Cupid' is a brilliant narrative that’s not only relatable but also incredibly good. Brimming with smooth guitar tones and a catchy beat, this is a single that leaves you wanting so much more. A self-love anthem for the modern woman, 'Need A Word With Cupid' is an indie-pop bop. Maya says: “'Need A Word With Cupid' was written after my breakup when I felt a sudden hit of empowerment after the realisation that my ex was not worth another tear over. It’s an energetic and uplifting song with soul influences and of course a guitar solo to end.“ [via LOCK]

With her debut EP Digital Meadow arriving on May 28, Dora Jar is sharing the video for her single ‘Multiply’. “I am my truest form when I am changing shape, morphing sounds, and shifting my point of view,” she says of the forthcoming EP. “This project is an exploration of my impulse to shape-shift. That’s my ambition.” [via DIY]

Telenova's new-arriving single 'Tranquilize' makes it two-from-two for the band, deeper solidifying their rich blend of sounds while showing how it can move into further areas, taking on new energies - or emphasising other energies - as more songs come to light. 'Tranquillize', for example, has a heavier weighting on that live instrumentation, giving the song this more alt-pop-meets-R&B spin when combined with Angeline's brilliant-as-ever vocals. As she explains, the single was the first for Telenova, written on the day they began working with one another. "I was actually flicking through a thesaurus and the word ‘Tranquilize’ jumped out at me, it just rang so nicely on the tongue and was so inherently visceral," she says. "I was humming gibberish over the hypnotic Rhodes chords that Josh had laid down, and we heard what sounded like ‘Poseidon’s on the water’ - it was the first time in a writing session with Ed and Josh, and the first time I’d been in a writing session where a poetic, literary lyric idea like that wasn’t shunned and coined as ‘unrelatable’.  It resonated. We followed the thread, playing into Siren mythology as a metaphor for falling in love - the power of attraction to transfix and tranquillize you." The single also arrives with an official video clip, directed by Angeline - solidifying her multi-talented craft. "I wanted to capture the world of the song in a Lynchian-inspired dreamscape - starry-eyed and a little unhinged - but like, David Lynch meets Gucci," she says. [via Pilerats]

International superstar P!nk has more than two decades of experience topping the global pop charts, and she is here to continue her reign with the new single 'All I Know So Far'. 'All I Know So Far' was produced by pop mastermind Greg Kurstin and co-written with the songwriting duo Benj Pasek & Justin Paul. The single comes off of her upcoming album All I Know So Far: Setlist, due out on RCA Records on May 21. The accompanying video for 'All I Know So Far' tells Pink’s life story with help from Cher, Judith Light, and Carey Hart. The visuals, directed by longtime collaborator Dave Meyers, also features an appearance from her daughter Willow. The new album will feature live recordings from her 2019 'Beautiful Trauma World Tour' along with a recording of her highly-buzzed MTV Video Vanguard Award acceptance speech. P!nk’s daughter Willow will also make an appearance on the album with the song 'Cover Me in Sunshine', which the singer previously shared back in February. [via Consequence]

[readersguidetotheuniverse]

TOP 10 PRIDE EDITION

June is LGBT pride month internationally, a very needed celebration to remind everyone that LGBTIQ+ people exist, their feelings are identity are valids and they deserve the same rights and recognition as anyone else. Today is the day chosen in many countries to celebrate the Pride and, also, today marks the 50th anniversary of the very first Pride parade in New York City, after the Stonewall riots in 1969. A very special day in an already very special month. So we thought, what better way to honor this beautiful celebration than to share some of the best LGBT young adult novels of recent years?

I don’t consider myself LGBT, but I do love reading LGBT stories. I personally believe it’s important to read stories of/by people from different backgrounds and going through different struggles than our own. It’s important to educate ourselves, especially considering how f*cked up the world is and how slowly we advance in terms of human rights. Reading these stories may help you understand the way other people see the world and how the world sees them. And we could do with a little more empathy and kindness these days, to be honest.

So far, I have mostly read stories with gay/bisexual male characters, so I will focus on that for this post, but I will continue educating myself reading stories with trans characters, lesbian characters, non-binary characters, etc…

Here’s my TOP 10 gay YA novels:

#10: Autoboyography, by Christina Lauren

Christina Lauren are great just in general so a book of theirs is always a great choice. About this one, I just loved it. Very well written, one of those books you just want to keep reading and when you get to the end you wish you would’ve gone a bit slower so it wouldn’t be over so soon. I love that the main character is bisexual, cause these books mostly include gay men but very rarely bisexual men and they deserve representation too!

#9: Captive Prince, by C.S. Pacat

This series is not for everyone, let me warn you now. It does touch some very delicate, controversial issues (rape, slavery, abuse…) but I promise you, it is way better than it sounds and I’m sure it’s better than you imagine. It’s dark and intense and passionate but tender at times, especially around the third book. You’ll have to wait for romance but it’ll be worth your while. If you give it a chance, keeping an open mind, it may surprise you.

#8: Two Boys Kissing, by David Levithan

Today it’s very easy to find amazing LGBT YA books but a few years back it was way harder, simply because there was no market or opportunities for them. This one I consider a classic among these great new LGBT novels for teens or young adults. A good story that really gives visibility and history of LGBT people the importance that they deserve. I also recommend checking out other David Levithan books, he’s got many great novels!

#7: Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda, by Becky Albertalli

You probably heard about this one already, considering how well its movie did: Love, Simon. So well that they’ve done a TV show inspired by it, too! This is absolutely one of the must reads on coming out and finding your place in the world. Simon and Blue are cute as can be and the rest of the characters are also great, some even got their own book! You’ll love all of them and will root for Simon and Blue from minute 1. The movie is also really good and funny!

#6: Heartstopper, by Alice Oseman

This comic series (or graphic novels, however you wanna call it) is the cutest I’ve ever seen, I swear to god. It will warm your heart and will have you smiling through the whole thing and you’ll just wish for more. The characters are so relatable, their story is just adorable and the drawings are so lovely. Even if you are not into graphic novels, this one is almost a must. There are three volumes out, volumes 3 and 4 are expected for 2021 and 2022, and I’m already desperate for them.

#5: Red, White & Royal Blue, by Casey McQuiston

This is the most recent one of the bunch. A really good, fresh, modern story that defies classic values and the status quo and just makes you happy. This book has been so well received, has won many awards, and I’m so happy about it, because it’s rare to see LGBT books being recognized as romance novels and not in their own separated category. And it’s time to recognize that romance is romance no matter who you are and appreciate good stories. She’s got a new book coming next year and I just can’t wait to have it.

#4: They Both Die at the End, by Adam Silvera

This is not your typical LGBT story. Well, I don’t think this is typical in any sense, and that’s the appeal of it. In case the title is not enough for you, I can assure you this story is very original and well written. This is not a love story per se, this is a story about life, and love’s a part of it. The characters are so cute and realistic. You’ll wish page after page that the title got it wrong. If you like it, I also recommend checking out other Adam Silvera books like History Is All You Left Me and More Happy Than Not. They’re unconventional and great, too!

#3: Carry On, by Rainbow Rowell

This is basically Harry Potter if Harry Potter was gay. Kind of bordering gay Harry Potter fanfiction. And it’s magnificent. The magic and fantasy of the Harry Potter world with the inclusion that modern world craves and lovable characters you won’t get enough of. A bit of enemies to lovers as well, which I just love. If you like fantasy, this is definitely for you. I promise you, you’ll love it. It has a sequel I’m dying to read and there are more on the way!

#2: HIM, by Elle Kennedy and Sarina Bowen

This is possibly the most mature book on this list and one of my absolute favorite books ever. For starters, I love their writing style. Also they give us both characters’ point of view so we get a full picture of the story, which is great. We can see two young adults figuring themselves out, what they feel, who they are, in a sports world where LGBT people are not usually welcome. And it’s just fantastic. The sequels are also really good.

#1: Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe, by Benjamin Alire Sáenz

This, right here, is one of the best books I have ever read. Period. Nothing I can say will suffice. The story is so human, the characters are so real and go through so much and you feel every little bit of it. So relatable, adorable, painful sometimes, but mostly just pure emotion. The only thing I missed in this book is more pages, I just want more and more. I just couldn’t stop reading so it was over too soon! But no worries, there’s a sequel in the making!

Happy Pride! Whoever you are and whoever you love, happy reading!

[ithinkilikeit-reactions]

K-Pop life lessons (2 year old blog anniverary project)

I believe that music is something that can bring people together. I believe that the musicians we listen too and the things they create can teach us things. This goes for every genre, not just K-Pop. But there is a stigma around K-Pop of it just being men and women dancing around singing about ice cream, rainbows and happiness. It can be that, but it can be incredibly meaningfull and the artists teach us things. 

Here are some things I have learned: 

Monsta X , BTOB and Seventeen taught me that family isn’t just blood, it can go further than that. Your friends can become your family. 

SHINee and VIXX taught me that it’s perfectly fine to go against the grain of what others do. As long as you stay yourself. 

Day6 taught me that it’s okay to feel alone sometimes, but in the end you are never truly alone. 

Sistar, Girl’s Generation, AOA, Mamamoo etc have taught me that it’s okay to be confident and speak my mind when I feel like I am being done wrong. 

Here are some life lessons that other Kpop fans have chosen to share with me

“stray kids taught me that it's perfectly okay to be sad, depressed, or have anxiety because there's always a light at the end of the tunnel and so there's so many people just like me”

-@lysss-xo

“Super Junior taught me how to smile and laugh again after I had spent so much time barley going through the motions.”

-signed, A Shy Male ELF.

“VIXX and BTS taught me that even when you might feel down and think that nothing matters, eventually everything is going to get better.”

-        @michelleherrera16

“Day6 taught me that’s it’s okay to go at my own pace and everyone can feel lonely and thats okay Stray Kids thought me that everyone feels lost at some point and going into adulthood is scary and longing to go back to the easier days is normal”

-@its-simply-me19

“BTS taught me that I can't always think about everyone else, I'm young and I have my own dreams to go after. If I need it, I'll take the time to sort my sht out. That's thanks to SUGA's 'Nevermind'. Mikrokosmos made me realize I have a reason for being here right now, and my existence does matter. These two songs had lyrics that pulled me out of suicidal thoughts i'd been dealing with for 6 years. It’s so weird that certain lyrics had that effect on me. Although I still have depression and social anxiety, I’m slowly getting over it. I’m finding myself.”

-@moonkiddionysus17

“This is pretty basic, but BTS and Got7’s Jackson are teaching me to love myself since I hate myself to my core. It’s a long road but I know I’ll get there eventually ❤️⭐️”

-@broken-scene-queens 

“I know this isnt strictly what you asked butVixx and esp, Hakyeon inspire me. I see him being a leader and helping his members, vlogging, serving his country, moving out, spending time with friends and family, doing charity work in a very super low key way, being kind, gracious and just a lovely human being and it reminds me that's what I need to be. I want to inspire and carry myself with the level of maturity and grace he has.”

-anon

“Wanna One taught me the right way to life with memories, to not get stuck in the past holding onto memories crying because they're not coming back, instead I've learned to treasure memories and see them as something beautiful without pain, but with a smile on my face.”

-Anon

“VIXX and BTS showed me that there is nothing wrong with being sexually dominant and identifying as a woman -- their subby concepts gave me metaphorical wings. (my name is Coral but I don't have a tumblr I just check yours sorry)”

-Anon

“Monsta x and Dreamcatcher taught me to never give up on your dreams, no matter what anyone says, the amount of pain and heatbreak, or how long it takes. Dreamcatcher specifically taught me that it is okay to start over if what you were doing in your life did not turn out to be what you wanted. Sometimes it takes a little more time to figure yourself out before you are happy. ( Their story of how they went from Minx to Dreamcatcher really inspires me)”

-@brieflycraftycollectoruniverse 

“N.flying taught me that it’s okay to be weird, out of the box, and different. Taught me how to accept my weird personality and find others that accepted it as well.”

-anon

“So for me, it was VIXX. They were my first group and they came into my life at the right time. I had hit an all time low with my depression. 'Error' distracted me from the bad in the world and it was through them that I learned that there was still beauty in the world. Their lyrics inspired and Ravi in particularly inspired with his own struggles and his outlooks on life. I don't think I would be here or at least as happy as as stable as I am if it wasn't for them.”

-Anon

“A lot of the groups have fought me the families don’t end in blood, that you can make your own if needed, mainly 17 and Victon”

-🦋 anon

“iKON, EXO, and Monsta X taught me what a real family looks like, and how to support my fam through thick and thin. The most important lesson is that family doesn't end with blood, and sometimes it doesn't even start with blood. After all, the blood from a pact with your real family will always be thicker than the water of the womb.”

-@wynnewriteshq

“Red Velvet didn't really teach me much, but they gave me a reason to smile. Wendy said this on VLIVE a little after RV's 5th anniversary: "I will always be there for you, I will be there even when you leave because you can always come back to me." (paraphrasing) It made me cry a little on the inside because I found them the summer before I started high school. It was really rough but I had their music to make me happy.”

-Anon

“Tbh I got into kpop at a crazy time I'm a young mom and I felt so out of touch with who I am. It was more than one group, but the combination of "fun thing for me " and BTS had just started the love yourself series... it meant the world to me to remind myself that the me that exists under "mom" was worth love too.”

-Anon

“Got7 taught me that it's okay to have fun while chasing your dreams and ambitions. You're not doing anything wrong while having fun cause you're still on the path you wanna go. Even if there are people that don't believe in your dreams remember that you're doing for yourself, not for them. Do what makes you happy.”

-@ahgasedaa-mark

“Blackpink taught me to be the badass woman i am today. I think without them i would still be in my shell of depression and fear. Got7 didnt teach me anything they saved my life. Their music calms me and makes me feel loved with saying how beautiful, amazing, and perfect you are in their lyrics. I know it may sound cliche but their music has helped me a lot feel beautiful and good about myself. Bts did the same. both got7 and bts had taught me that i deserve better. They became my safe space when i have panic attack. They both helped me get me out of sexually abusive relationship and helped me gain the friends i have today. I have great friends that arent toxic and a closer relationship with my mom. I even met my boyfriend because without got7 and bts words i would have never gotten out of my house, get on dating sights, and go to japan. They have helped me immensely when i used to be shut in.”

-@kpopluvwriter

“RM of BTS reminded me that I love writing poetry to express the things I can't tell anyone. TOP of BIGBANG showed me that someone with anxiety issues can still do anything. Most of all, most of the groups I love have given me a community I can trust with more than just Kpop stuff- I feel safe telling fellow Kpop stans that I'm trans and nonbinary because I've seen such a supportive and loving community here.”

-Anon

“Kpop fan culture has taught me that you will always have a friend if you need one. Also that if someone is in distress another WILL come to help. Stray Kids, Bts, Seventeen etc.: have taught me that it’s okay to love myself and that if they love me I should love myself too.”

-@skylarrae168

“Stray kids taught me to never give up no matter how long it's going to take, it's okay to take your time and that no matter what I'm going through everything is going to be okay. Bts taught me that's it's okay to not have a dream and to just do whatever makes me happy and they also taught me how to be myself...like I should be always be myself and that there is nothing 'wrong' with me...if that make sense”

-@paigsa

“Kpop has taught me a lot of things subtly over the past couple years. But the ones I can really pick out are that. It taught me how not to give up on life when things get tough but just step back. It taught me how and when to cut out toxic people from my life. It taught me that I can still do so much despite my mental health and that my mental illnesses don't define me. It's also inspired me to start drawing again after a long bout of art block.”

-@z-stitch

“Kpop as a whole has taught me to be myself, to live more creatively and not to hide anymore.”

-@harmonal

Alot of these brought me to tears and I am so glad you all decided to participate in this and I really appreciate it. Please stick with me for the years to come ♥

[metalgearkong]

The Last of Us Part II - Review (PS4)

8/14/20 ***SPOILERS***

Developed by Naughty Dog, released June 19th, 2020

The Last of Us was a game I wasn’t originally a huge fan of when it came out in 2013. Despite it receiving astronomical praise by fans and critics, it took me a couple times completing the game before I fell in love with it. What truly made The Last of Us special was not necessarily its concept or gameplay, but its storytelling and characters. The depth of the interpersonal drama and raw emotion on screen was the true core of the game, with the stealth-action, zombies, and other aspects more like icing on the cake. The Last of Us ended up being one of my favorite games of all time strictly based on execution, even if the game as a whole still isn’t perfect. 

The Last of Us Part II was my most highly anticipated game of 2020, and it feels strange to be on the other side of it finally. This game has been polarizing for fans, and as it turns out, I feel conflicted on the game as well. I finished it a month or so ago, but only now getting my thoughts written out. While some aspects are daring, jaw dropping, and gorgeous, other aspects detract from what is an unexpected story not quite living up to its potential. I respect this game more than I love it, and while I do think critics have been too kind in review scores, the exceptionally low user reviews have been far more incorrect. This is a solid, epic, deep, beautiful, emotional campaign which will deliver its money’s worth, but many contentious points will dictate how much you enjoy this blockbuster of a video game.

One of the aspects I like the most about this game is how similar the gameplay is to the original. Many people I suppose would want more change or innovation in the 7 years since The Last of Us, but personally I’ve always been a fan of sequels that retain what I like about a series. If it changes too much, it becomes too detached from what I enjoyed or got used to. Changes Part II makes are subtle, but natural for the genre and world. The player can duck and go prone in waist-high grass to conceal themselves, a dodge button has also been added, and a huge addition to combat and stealth is the addition of attack dogs who patrol with their owners. Dogs can pick up your scent until you distract it, adding to a lot of tension anytime enemy K9s are around. And yes, I found it difficult to shoot the first couple of dogs I encountered as they yelp out in pain when they get hurt or die.

Part II picks up I believe 5 years after the original. Ellie and Joel live in Jackson, the town they town the become a part of at the end of The Last of Us, and seem to be thriving in a community with food, power, and systems in place for relative safety from the outside world. The story is told in a much more chopped up chronology which I found to be detrimental to the pacing. The first game had a straightforward narrative and it worked very well, and this game has to dice up its story to make it seem more complex, but just comes off as pretentious. For example, by the end of the prologue (about a hour and a half) you play as three different characters. This leads into the strange structure of this game’s story, aside from having the linearity chopped up at times. 

The most controversial moment of the game is the moment of Joel’s death and how it occurred. While this event was not unexpected for myself and others, the manner of which he died is what’s justifiably pissing people off. A brand new character is introduced named Abby (and one of the three characters we briefly play as shortly before) and without any background or indication of who she is, brutally tortures and executes Joel in front of Ellie’s eyes. It’s not difficult to see director Neil Druckmann cackling with satisfaction of his subversion of expectations. It’s simply toying with the emotions of fans, and he has to expect and stand by any criticism he’s gotten for how this scene went down. However, this moment does make more sense as the story unfolds, but its no less a heavy handed and manipulative move for the sake of auteur video game storytelling.

Ever since I witnessed the brutal death of one of my favorite video game characters of all time, my only though was “they better justify this.” It was never “this is horrible and irredeemable, and “Naughty Dog is off its rocker,” like many people seem to have reacted. It was gut wrenching, but I knew Naughty Dog has a pension for organic characters, and in the back of my mind I knew I had to give this game its fair shot, and see if and/or how Naughty Dog justified a scene liable to piss off virtually every single fan of the original game. This is a poor spot of the game, but the structure of the game itself is, for me, the biggest issue of Part II. In the end, I don’t mind Joel’s death as much seeing the context surrounding it, although it still should have been handled entirely differently. 

Neil Druckmann proudly pulls a Metal Gear Solid 2 move, and entirely switches protagonists for a huge portion of the game (about 45%). Abby turns out to be the main character once the halfway point of the game hits. Following Joel’s death is about 9-11 hours playing as Ellie on her revenge quest to find Abby and kill her. The motivation is justified, being in the room with Ellie as she watched her father figure die in agony in front of her. Ellie’s portion of the campaign makes sense, Abby’s makes less. The structure of the story comes to a high point mid way through, where Abby and Ellie finally meet to clash. After all this build up, and around the same time of the game where the first game had its conclusion, everything halts and resets. 

We are suddenly dropped into the Abby story, showing her side of things, and why she would want to kill Joel. I do think the story directly surrounding her motivation is well done, but the problem is, a large portion of Abby’s story has literally nothing to do with Joel or Ellie. We effectively see why Abby would want revenge on Joel, but then we have to tag along on a major side journey while Abby helps a trans kid and his sister escape the cult they grew up in. I get that it helps develop more empathy for Abby as a character, but Abby’s story should have been at least cut in half to keep the overall story more focused and flowing. Many times while deep into Abby’s story I honestly forgot what the point of what I was doing is, and was getting confused on which events had happened and which hadn’t. 

Abby herself is a good character, and after all has been said and done, she is the third best character in this series so far. It’s a shame though that so much of her story is a direct waste of time, despite more of an excuse for more of the same great gameplay and set-piece moments. Empathy and perspective are the two big themes of this game. The best thing I can say about Part II is it convinced me of something I thought was near inconvincible: it made me like and root for Abby after the scene of Joel’s death. However, while the theme of the game is “all of your enemies have their own backstory,” Par II doesn’t teach us anything new whatsoever. Abby’s father was the surgeon Joel killed upon saving Ellie from the Fireflies at the climax of Part I. But Joel (and Ellie) killed a lot of random enemies in the first game, most of them players won’t even remember specifically. 

The fact that we have an entire video game showing us the perspective of one single person who wants revenge on Joel is a story that doesn’t need to be told. Any NPC we killed in the first game had family or friends who would also want revenge on Joel as well. We don’t learn anything new. This whole series is just marauder against marauder. Joel has never been a good guy, and that’s never been a secret. Joel is shown as an anti-hero even before the conclusion of the first game. It’s partially what makes him such a cool character. We only rooted for Joel because we were seeing things from his perspective. If the first game was entirely about Abby and Joel was framed as the bad guy, the results would have been the same: Abby would be our point-of-view “hero” character, while Joel was clearly the villain. Part II is not the epiphany Neil Drukmann likely wanted his audience to experience.

As anyone can see, the graphics and performances of Part II are incredible. While the story and structure are nothing too special (because it ruins its great moments by long drawn out heavy handed moments), at least the game itself is engaging to play and is gorgeous to look at. Growing up in the Pacific Northwest myself, and the game mainly taking place in Seattle, I enjoyed being totally waterlogged throughout the entire experience. If the story isn’t depressing enough on its own, the weather will certainly get to you. The core characters themselves are portrayed extremely well via motion capture and voice acting as well. I’m wondering why Neil Druckmann didn’t just make a Netflix series beings he is clearly so focused on the character’s interpersonal relationships. This is especially true for Joel and Ellie once again. Side characters are well acted, but have less of an effect on the core story, which is a huge tragedy when so much effort was clearly put into bringing them to life.

There’s no doubt Naughty Dog accomplished their specific goal in making you as depressed as possible. To be honest, it reminded me of some of my favorite books about stories of conflicting emotions and ending on depressing notes. Even though Part II is far from perfect, it’s still a juggernaut of a single-player game with amazing graphics, acting, responsive gameplay. I like the ways it proved me wrong on stuff I thought was unchangeable, and for that, it has my deep respect. It may not be for everyone, not even fans of the first, but if you come at it with an honest open mind and let yourself drop your ego enough to take in this entire story, I think it’s a daring piece of media that might age very well in time.

7/10

[100-becs]

A Suffocated Soul

TW//Transphobia, homophobic and transphobic slurs, mentions of gore, and mentions of sxxcxde

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Who am I?

I’m an 18 year old disgrace to my family who sees her bearded face as an ailment, who's deep voice, a bass, makes me wish words would fail me, a spiraling mess who's fake masculinity trails me. A girl with a liar's face. A girl who's failing. But still I tire, inside me’s a fire with dwindling kindling, running down to the wire. A soul suffocated and strangled whose saving face is a shell of former self, self hatred shooting through her, forever forced to fester in her failings, sequestered into an inescapable quagmire.

And I said nothing when you told me that my body is not my choice

When I’ve found a way, my voice, my song, it brings me euphoria until you come along, lecturing me that how I'm living is wrong, and how being myself would make me not belong. Relentless ridicule of how my hair is too long, that there’s no going back if I alter my bod. That I can’t be a girl, I watch football all day long. It takes me everything not to pack up and say “so long”. Saying it’ll be my fault if someone kills me, it kills me. Of living, I’m not worthy, as I’m too far along a man to be girly. Oh, gosh, I’m getting wordy. I didn’t realize myself early. The downward spiral into nothingness around me is swirling, as I try to clean up my mess you made for me. Can’t you see I’m distressed? I’m worth less than worthless. Holy fuck, give me a rest. If a rest is too much leniency, go ahead and arrest me. It's torture to continue when my own mother detests me

I said nothing when you went on your tirades against who I am

I’m a girl who can’t cry, though I’m red in the eye. Knuckles bloodied with mirror shards surrounding her. In each is a reflection of a monster. A man who did others wrong and strung people along for his own amusement. Seeping out my hand is where everything I had to prove went. I need to vent. I’m fucking spent. I broke when others bent. Off the ledge, my sanity was sent, the life I’ve dreamt was met with dissent, but though inside, 100 times i’ve wept, I still can’t cry. And despite my eyes and thighs being red with this dye, I lie and say i’m fine. You tell me I'm wired, but my wires are fried and my identity you’ve vilified, and deep inside, I want to die. There's not a day that goes by where I dont think "maybe if I just try, I can act like everything's okay as a guy and i wont have to live with being the type of person you told me you loved but really you're ashamed of."

I said nothing when you told me I’m a man

I’m the antithesis of normality. Fuck the formalities. Send me to my grave at the edge of reality, for the way I exist, you tell me it’s confounding. You feed me to wolves who are hungry and growling. I raise my bloodied fists to fight back, but they all overpower me. The turmoil I face is what has the wolves howling. A little girl whose cries will never come out of me. A little girl named Jocelyn. The name that should never be uttered around you. What you call a trend is why my head's always pounding. The struggle I face every day is astounding. And it stacks up and stacks up and it all amounts to me running numbers through my head, 41 percent. I dont care what you meant because it's the message you sent that I am not welcome in this world being who I am, lest I be happy in my body that others may dissent, and that if my vessel meets an untimely end, the fault is on me, not how wrong society went

I said nothing when you told me it would be on me if someone kills me for wearing a dress

"It's just a trend. I thought I was a lesbian when i was a teenager" is the mantra you constantly use to defend your position. The trans people you mention, you say just want attention, and list ways they're not menschen, in hopes that I stop pretending. I'm not pretending! Apprehending my emotions flowing like the tides of the ocean makes me feel atrocious. The pain that shoots through my skin, skin that imprisons my livelihood within, within my self is a soul begging to be let out, out of my mouth shoots "Why can't I just be fucking normal?!" with my deep voice killing me, "methinks the trxnny doth protest too much" is the response I receive, leaves who I am to die in the darkness, darkness forever blotting out the sun. I'm not your son! I'd gladly run from this thing that I was, reach for my heart instead of a gun that threatens to send this whole operation asunder, and become a being worthy of love and of wonder, not for fun or because I've grown dumber, but because I would never willingly take the brunt of the hell that I live through daily to taste the unimportant heaven of a shred of attention. 

I said nothing when you told me I was following trends

You paint me as a terrible liar, but I was able to convince you that I was a man. I played along with my assigned gender roles when you watched over me, clueless of 10 year old me's crying sleepless nights, or 13 year old me's internal fights, how everything was eating away at me like termites. I know my rights and your words aren't right. I constantly escape to digital landscapes because however it infuriates me wont be a scrape against who I am, and will not cripple my mental state. 

I said nothing when you told me to change my preferred name everywhere.

The 19 years i've spent on this earth, what were they worth? From my birth to the present day, I've pissed my entire life away because I allowed my mother to convince me that she knows more about me than I do about me. That there was no overcoming my greatest obstacle because she birthed me. You've stripped my individuality away from me as if I had just given it away to you. You fed me ideas that I thought nothing of because I focused too hard on the fact that the figure that's supposed to be a universal security blanket won't accept me. And those ideas you spoon-fed to me was the waste of self-doubt I couldn't flush out. My bloody knuckles and shattered mirrors are products of your rhetoric. And as I ball my fist up one last time, bawling my eyes out on the inside, ready to smash the final pane, just end the pain as I go insane…

Why cant I do it?…

My reflection smiles back and shows affection. A disheveled, bloody, broken complexion, but oddly beautiful, a captivating introspection. Completely removed from your hateful gobbledygook, I rub my eyes to take a second look. She's smiling, like she can read me like a book. My ethereal self is happy, while I'm sitting here, still shook. A queer, trans, lesbian mess, but purely my mess. none caused by outside distress, a girl who is always her best and strives for nothing less, Jocelyn. October 9th, 2018 was the first time I saw this wonder, and she helped me see the meaning in my night-long internal plights, my shattered psyche from fights, blights I've brought on my body that brought me ungodly dysphoria and triggered upon me out of body memories because the last body I would possibly want for me is that of a man. She makes me look back on my past and revere it. Im smiling ear to ear because I know although I may fear and people may leer, as long as I'm here, I know I'm queer, I'm here, I'm queer, I'm here, I'm her.

I said nothing when you threatened to send me to a psych ward.

Coming to terms with toxicity can be a tumultuous task that tries to turn you against those you think you love. But that isnt the case here. I know you hate me, but love the boy you think I am. And any attempt I make to let Jocelyn make my life any amount more manageable is met with fury, the situation gets blurry, I constantly worry, like im being buried alive. I strive to be able to survive and thrive because you taught me that I shouldn't let anyone get in the way of me living my life. Please take this knife away from my sight as I contemplate this strife. My existence does not make things worsen, I am my own person!

I said nothing when you lied to me about your care for the LGBTQ+ community

The toxicity of your words only runs skin deep. But this toxic testosterone that courses through my every capillary and produced by my bones makes me scream bloody mary. My hearing is plagued with "fxggot", "trxp", and "trxnny", and if I outwardly say "Hi, I'm transgender", the further attacks on me would be many. But their blaring cacophony is nothing comparing to my body changing to be something that pains me. Waking up to being physically male is just a constant reminder of someone I'm not, an unsettling notification of times best forgot, and of a person who's better off being left to rot. I've screamed, I've shouted, I've sulked, and I've fought. Every day in this body is another day lost, never to be found until I end up deceased on the ground, iced over with the frost, or until this testosterone is replaced with estrogen. Estrogen, the chemical that will make me detest my body much less, make me my best self, but without it i don't know how long until im laid to rest.

Beneath me are the eggshells I've broken because you told me to walk on them. You signed and sealed my name in blood as the son you always loved. I am no husband, brother, father, son. I sold my individuality for safety untold, but as i grew older, the world around me grew colder, the pain inside I couldn't shoulder. My response was to be bolder, but at some point I just rolled over wishing everything would be over because the people i expected to fight alongside me shoved a dagger in my back because I dared to be too authentic to conform to who you thought I was, leaving me to die on the battlefield against my own dysphoria, signing and sealing my deadname in blood, Josh. But as my body grows cold as the blood will roll down my gouged armes from the broken mirrors and the dagger you shoved in my back as a hold. I take hold of the dagger and rip it out of my spine, I won't go down this time. Though it wont all be fine I will continue my climb. I'll push on through the muck and the grime. I'll rise to the top to give my eyes a sight to behold. You say I've lost my mind, I've just gained control. No, today will not be the day that I fold, I'll make sure my story will not go untold, I refuse to be melted and put into a mold, and I can do it all if I could just be bold!

I wont stay silent anymore.

Who am I?

I'm Jocelyn

Perfectly imperfect

[artificialqueens]

Blood Red Roses - (Sasha/Valentina) - Amory A

Have two chapters of something alright one of which you’ve already had! Hope its okay, it’s been kinda tough to write so yeah if it ever gets finished it’ll be about 5 chapters

Chap 1

“The day I met her I knew everything I built would fall apart. The hard work, the hard nights were all for nothing because there she was. Perfect her.”

My whole life I had been special, and I’d always known it. Valentina Leva was going to be something, do something and make something of herself.

The problem with this was of course the fact my mamí could barely put food on the table so getting me famous was at the back of her mind. But no matter, I said “Valentina, you can take care of this.”

I had never been smart or particularly talented, but I was beautiful and I was going to make sure I got everything I could from it.  I would be the most. So here I was, 16 years old, barely still in high school with three times more sugar daddies than friends. I had the most beautiful closet of clothes to wear on dates with men I couldn’t stand. I could feed my family despite barely eating myself. I drowned my feelings in parties and drugs. My life was toxic but I was the most beautiful and I would make it.

I refused to feel the loneliness seeping in through the rich men, the fake girls and the powerful evils I was running from. They wouldn’t get me. 

———-

“I’m wearing the pretty red dress you bought me daddy”

The words made me feel sick. But that’s what this one liked - girls like children.

“And nothing underneath" 

Breathy giggle.

“Promise daddy”

Little purr.

None of this made me feel anything anymore, I used to feel the rush of adrenaline but it’s all just bland now. I make pretty moans down the phone and swing my legs off the wall I’m sitting on until I hear him finish. 

“You’re welcome daddy, I can’t wait to see you either, yes, you too, goodbye”

He told me he loved me again. He’s twice my age and he knows it. But as I this thought began to scare my bank balance doubled and my mind went to mi hermanos, they needed new school uniform and it was worth it, wasn’t it? 

I decided to go back to sit with my friends while they eat, so I jump off my perch and head to my locker lost in thought.

They were all already at our usual table, the most beautiful girls in school, using each other for the illusion of having something. At home we had nothing but here we had this, as fake as it was, we had this beauty. Aja with her pretty freckles and full lips, Shea with her lean body and long legs, Kimora with her perfect figure and finally Farrah. My best friend for years who could hardly stand me anymore. She had had enough of my flighty tendencies and detached sadness and barely spoke to me anymore, with the exception of gossip, of course. 

“Seen the new girl Tina?”

“New girl?”

“Yeah…something…velvet…or something?”

Shea laughed at Kimora’s thinking face “Sasha Velour dumbass, she’s next to me in English, you know that class you should go to?”

“She’s a goddamn freak that’s for sure, like, she barely speaks”

And of course that’s when she walked in. The goddamn bitch took my breath away. Nothing added up, it shouldn’t have worked, the neon pink blouse with the green pencil skirt and short black hair. The red lipstick that had bled a little, wobbly eyeliner and the freckles she’d tried too hard to cover. But for some reason looking at her took me to a place I’d never been before. It was peaceful and quiet but it was there, I felt it.

We all watched her walk to an empty table alone, I think the whole school did. She barely seemed to notice, just walked with her head up. She was so fascinating to look at, too fascinating. I didn’t need this right now, I needed air. I ran.

——-

I started going to math. This was a slippery slope. But from across the room I got to see the concentration on her face and the little lines it made on her forehead and wonder why at 17 she still couldn’t put on eyeliner properly, why she didn’t do more about her brows, why she was so captivating and why I was so captivated by her voice.

I had to talk to her, I had to. I was walking towards her, I was standing behind her. My hand was on her shoulder. She was turning around. Ayos mis dios, words. Where had they gone? She was looking at me expectantly. Help. 

“Your hair looks like that Spook guy from the Star Trek”

Why that?

“Do you mean Spock?” She smiled,  my frozen soul melted a little at the sight, but she quickly bit her lip and looked nervously at the floor. 

“Oh yeah I guess I do…hey has anyone properly showed you around yet?” Maybe this would calm her clear anxiety a little.

She shook her head, still making eyes at the floor, and practically jumped out of her skin when I grabbed her hand and pulled her with me. I was desperate to know more, so I took her to the calmest place I knew: my wall.

We sat in silence for a little while, she sketched and I watched her but it didn’t feel awkward at all. After a while she tore out the piece of paper she’d been drawing on and handed it to me.

“This is me! I’m a superhero!” I laughed, and it was real, real laughter, real joy and it felt like heaven falling from my lips.

She smiled back at me and nodded, still silent.

“So I heard your accent, its lovely, where are you from?”

She looked at me and then down at her feet.

“Russia” she whispered.

Her voice was deeper than I’d realised, but smooth and warm and it felt like blanket wrapping tight around my exhausted body. Her accent was thick and made her voice breathier and soothing, like the single word was a lullaby.

I asked her question after question til the bell rang for class. She jumped off the wall and ran towards the building and all the warmth went with her. I was left with my same cold body and fear.

I called him.

——-

For weeks that was what we were, quiet conversations on the wall, everyday becoming closer and closer to being something but never quite there. Sometimes I would try but she would always need to run. It was ruining me, I’d lost 8 men, and around $10,000 a month but I hated the feeling those men gave me now I knew how real happiness felt.

“Why can’t I touch you Sashie?”

“Just can’t”

“But why? You’re so beautiful.”

I told her that almost everyday. It was always true. 

“Val I need to tell you something”

My mind went blank. I just nodded.

“I left Russia because I couldn’t be there anymore. I wasn’t allowed to be”

“What do you mean Sashie?”

“It wasn’t safe”

“Sashie you’re scaring me”

She looked back at me with her anxious eyes.

“You’ll think I’m sick”

“I won’t Sashie, nothing could make me think-”

“I’m trans”

Her eyes filled with tears and I couldn’t help it this time, I kissed her forehead, I kissed her cheeks, I kissed her lips so gently I could barely feel them until I felt her push back against me. 

I had been to in love from the first word she spoke to care about something like that, already too far gone. 

“You’re my girl now Sashie, I don’t care about your body" 

She kissed me again with such control it made me gasp with the shock of it. She ran her hands down my waist making every inch of my body her own and making me push desperately into her touch. She smirked at me a little and kissed my cheek, taking my hand and helping me down from the wall. 

It felt good to have someone really take care of me, men like to take me out and act like a true gentleman but all they really wanted was to hurt me half the time. Sasha wanted to protect me and that was priceless.

Chap 2 

“If I was a moth she was more than a flame, she was fireworks on the 4th of July and no matter how much of me it burned I just couldn’t stop touching her. ”

————-

She turned my life upside down. Everything that had once been dull and grey she set on fire with life and I fell like a stone through water, pushing everything else in my life out of the way, and she did too. We were an unbreakable force crashing through life, mindlessly obsessed, distracted and desperate. We spent every minute we could together and I felt more bound to her than I ever had to another person. I was completely under her control.

She told me she didn’t mind the work I did but I knew she was lying. I dropped down to 5 men. I started to eat. I stopped the drugs. I got better. I felt happy. Then she left.

Three months before her graduation she told me. She’d been offered a job, a once in a lifetime opportunity, in New York. I begged her to take me with her. I told her I’d get a job, a real job. I’d be okay. We’d be okay. But she was gone, it was best for me, she said.

—————-

I never graduated. I started to make it though. 

At 17 I found a man with connections and made him fall in love with me. Simple as that, because the process was so simple. I checked him out and found that he had investments in clubs, and then became what he liked, like I’d always done. Then I was dancing in a club. 

He liked to show his girls off, which helped, but he wanted them all his off the stage. No part of me was his, but I let him believe. No, I was destined to live a life of praying to be hers again. 

He told me He Loved Me every night before my number and I fucked away the pain of knowing I’d never Love Him Too.

Each day men would flood the stage with money and blood red roses, drowning me until I was gasping for air, all desperate for me to return the affection, but none were as devoted as him. Him, who took me out to dinner at the finest restaurants in the most beautiful dresses and breathtaking jewellery; who asked about my childhood and my school life and my exes; who attacked me with kisses and bombarded me with compliments. Him who reminded me over dinner that I still ‘owed him for those earrings’, who’s eyes glazed over until he heard something that made him angry, who used my body like it was him own and it wasn’t, it wasn’t, it wasn’t.

At 11:11 I always wished for her.

I lived like that for months, finally being showered with glamour and adoration yet desperate to crawl back into the past. I prayed my days away though the words tasted like the sins I committed. I had never felt any guilt about the ways I made my money but recently I’d been visiting my Mami and hermanos less and less - he didn’t want me too.

It hurt the most near my eighteenth birthday as my Mami had invited my whole familia, even tia Bianca; but he was holding a party at the club and so I could hardly stay and mi hermanos were devastated and all I could think as I blew out the candles on the cake I couldn’t even look at was her. I made my final wish for her as I locked the tears into their usual glassy place.

————

The club was a place where dreams were lifted and lifted then dropped and shattered. It was classy looking thanks to his money, but nothing about the way it was run reflected that. The manager, Raffael-Pauli, was a greedy older man who masked his desire to fuck us as ‘fatherly love’. He would prey on the youngest, prettiest, most vulnerable girls he could find and tell them he could make them stars, put them at the top, change their lives. He usually did, but not for the better. The only thing worse was his ever so beautiful wife, Michelle. Although years younger than her husband she was debilitatingly jealous of us girls, she was desperate to take us out and some of the older girls would tell us  horror stories of her mania. I remember being told of tar in hair and shredded up costumes and so I tried my best to keep my distance. 

In that way, the girls themselves were almost like the sororities I’d admired as a child, or like the girls in those books about boarding schools I’d adored. It was nice to have real friends. I’d had friends in high school of course but there was something slightly less superficial about these friendships. I hadn’t heard from a single one of those girls, even Farrah, since disappearing from school. 

We helped each other numb the pain with whatever we could get for free, mostly cocaine, the glamour and confidence it brought endearing it to our desperation to escape. I liked hallucinogenics, being allowed to see her face like it was really there.

Raff had helped organise a party worthy of a shit playboy mansion and everyone vaguely wealthy or hot was invited. I performed with a rose in virginal white. After my performance I headed back to the dressing room to see the other girls.

“Gotcha something baby girl” a voice from behind me informed. Adore, my closest friend. She claimed to be from Azusa but on a night she was especially fucked she told me she was really from Arizona, running from an abusive father, and her real name was Dani.

She was holding two pills on her third and forth finger, with a lit candle sandwiched between them. 

“Let’s get fucked”

———–

I danced and danced and danced until I almost forgot where I was, being showered with gifts and Adore’s warm body I could’ve been somewhere real. Until he pulled me away. Kissing my neck, biting my bones, consuming me. It was all bland again. All surreal senses.

I watched the guests from his private booth til I noticed someone. Tall, slim, well dressed. 

She turned around.

He slipped his hands round my neck.

She gasped.

We locked eyes and there was colour as I collapsed.

“Sasha”

[kurlykayaker]

Reflection. 4-2-19

Tonight - marks the first day, that I have ever shared some deep, deep poetry with a room full of people I do not know; I did not know one single person in that room and I arrived to the location alone, unaccompanied by a friend. (Looking back, maybe a stupid idea? Haha) It was unplanned. I was studying there and decided to “just do it.” “Fuck it, I thought. What do I have to lose?”  And in some ways, in the back of my head, whenever we make some decisions, we have everything to lose. I entered that coffee shop - slightly moody, tired, and unmotivated to study; but the tones and vibes of the place always motivate me to study, to work harder - and to stay calm. I shared 3 poems total - one about the boy with Down Syndrome (on here), and two other trans related poems- both pretty intense (re: how you see me, and 11-7-2014).  I was nervous and I imagine that’s something I could get past if I wanted to keep sharing my poetry at events like this. I used to get very nervous just talking to people and giving speeches, but lots of college and time has weathered me well. I guess I thought sharing my poetry would feel liberating? That somehow, the deep dark intensity of what I’ve experienced in life would melt through the Earth and turn into something more beautiful?...As indicated by the question marks, I did not feel that. I did not feel that.   I stayed a bit awhile after reading, to listen to other people share.  I’m a big believer in courtesy and I think leaving right after I read would an act of selfishness.  Eventually, I did leave and a bucket full of feelings kind of washed over my semi-nervous being.  Guilt, an awkward surge of indulgent guilt and maybe shame?  For sharing such deep emotions - with power and eloquence- when most people don’t have to go through such things.  I asked myself, “Why did I impose these feelings on others?” A knee-jerk reflex. (Nerve root L3-L4, Quadriceps muscle).  Haha.  Seriously, though.  The only “safe” places for me to share such emotion is on an “anonymous” website like this, in a counselor’s office, sometimes on the phone with a family member,...and on night walks with myself and the presence of my father.  I guess it is no surprise that I feel an overwhelming amount of self-indulgence about a) sharing these emotions and also b) the intensity and depth of them. There’s been a lot of beauty that has come from writing pretty much everyday, but there’s also been a lot of tenderness, vulnerability - which I can handle.  Perhaps at some point, especially with trauma, we arrive to a point of pain?  In physical therapy, we talk about pain so much - nociceptive pain, phantom limb, musculoskeletal, referred - and we do talk about psychosomatic pain to some degree too.  Psychosomatic (which I don’t like this word usage) - possibly the hardest to “treat.” As my post yesterday was pretty heavy-dark-intense, very similar feelings of social isolation/being “alone” (in my context of the word) emanate from me tonight - sitting on my couch, short-clad, fan blowing - listening to calm music, taking some deep breaths. Have you ever cried dry tears?  Tears that come, but no fluid. Since being on testosterone, this is a common thing for me. It’s hard to explain. Often times, mid-way or multiple mid-ways, I get caught up in a Netflix series. I haven’t had a moment that like in the semester.  Partly, I am a) writing and working out more - (choosing more wholesome “well being” activities), but also I am b) really really enjoying my classes this semester -especially Chronic and Progressive (a neuro class) and pediatrics. Before deciding on PT school, I was between 3 professions - a) counselor b) a nurse and c) a physical therapist (in no particular order). I chose not to be a counselor, because I felt that working so closely with other people’s emotions would spark my own - in a negative aspect. I wouldn’t be able to keep myself safe emotionally and mentally.  Sometimes, I think I regret not being more open to the career?  It’s a mixed regret. After working in an ER for 5 years now, and seeing how *some* physicians treat nurses, I knew it wasn’t for me.  Once again, maybe I could have learned to go on autopilot - some?  <<I don’t think that’s possible for me.>> Haha (if you know me) Here we, are - option c.  I like that my future career affords me the ability to a) use science-based techniques and principles to help someone reach their goals - some of them very visible when they reach them b) moments to offer mental and emotional support (while not the crux of my job) and c) neurologically, an avenue for recovery, compensation, and prevention (there are terms we use in my neuro class).   It’s the fundamental science aspect of counseling - rehabilitating neuro patients; (Re- I firmly do believe that psychology is a science.)  A physical therapist is helping their brain literally make new synaptic connections. A PT is helping a patient believe in themselves - sometimes learning a completely new way to do something.  Sometimes, these goals can be met in relatively brief treatment sessions - sometimes, they takes weeks and weeks of long treatment sessions.  Regardless, I’m in and I’m devoted....and that brings me such inner motivation and joy to know that this could be so rewarding for me. (Re- my second full time clinical is in an inpatient neurological setting). When I was 13 years old- the semester after my dad passed, we had to write an English paper about “how if we could go back in time, how we would change something.”  It was like a creative paper based on past facts. I recall writing a paper about how I would have gone back in time, drove my parents’ car to my dad’s house, and got him to the hospital - for emergency care.  I remember rereading that paper as a high schooler and being amazed that little 13 year old Jordan understood - on a fucking deep level - what suicide was and how serious it was. When I was 15 years old, I thought I wanted to study English in college. My father had a Ph.D. in theology, my mother has a Master’s in Divinity and my stepdad does as well.  Smart fucking family, that loves words and God- basically. Haha.  I recall despising my English sophomore teacher; she was strict, she cut the room with her strained voice and constant frown.  We constantly had pop quizzes and she loved to remind us how hard it was to get a college scholarship unless we worked hard.  I felt the need to impress her?  Maybe?   We had to write a research paper our sophomore year; it was the first “research paper” we would do in our high school career.  I wanted to chose something that was interesting and meaningful to me, but at that time - I hated most science things.  What did I chose?  I wanted to write about Selective Serotonin Reuptake Inhibitors (SSRIs) and their impact on teenagers who were suicidal (re: increased risk of suicide during first few months of taking).  I recall my crabby uptight teacher looking at me and my topic and saying, “Are you sure you want to do this?  That’s pretty heavy.” All I did was nod, and say, “Yes.”  I laugh at that 15 year old kid; despite my overly shy, diffident personality, I knew what I wanted when I wanted to do it.  My mother stands by the same statement.   I suppose the reason this came up organically for me, is because suicide is more common than we realize.  The number of patients that come into the ED with suicidal thoughts- is a lot to say the least- of all ages (as young as 9 years old and up to 80+).  And, I and you, don’t have to be a mental health counselor to help someone.  We don’t have to go through a Master’s / Ph.D. program and get a license to be a positive influence on someone. Forms of trauma -> Brain injuries, Spinal Cord Injuries, unexpected neurological illnesses that occur for the myriad of reasons we don’t completely understand yet. The weight, the gravity, the intensity, damn.  Then, THEN - teaching them how to stand up again, how to use the toilet in a new way, how to get dressed, how to walk with these weird ass crutches (aka Loftstrands), how to not give a shit when you’re out in public (easier said than done), helping them understand what’s going on pathophysiologically without being a fucking robot.... I picture my father holding my hand and telling me to keep going...   because it’s so weird to be this close to being done with PT school - 1 year left (mostly clinical) and still have moments of such emptiness.  I guess I thought the feelings of “being alone” and feeling empty wouldn’t be *as bad* or perhaps less intense?   .....My mother says, “it’s an ebb and a flow.”  This is the one phrase I like, because having kayaked the whitewater rivers of the Earth and rafted, I identify with it so much (there’s really a literal meaning). there’s been so much ebb my kayak barely floating on this dry river, running into rock upon rock, the bank of the river is many feet worth inward, because the river and i     haven’t seen rain / for so long, “flow, flow, what is flow again?”, my heart asks. flow shouldn’t have to equate to working my ass off to get an 87.5 on a neuro exam, flow - organic, raw, rooted flow in the world we call “life” should bring moments of downpour happiness, excitement, connection so much of artificial flow is motivating myself, someday hoping i can find flow outside myself #oldsoul-lostmillenial