#anyway i am not going in and no wonder i fucking got covid if our boss is encouraging people to go in with CONFIRMED COVID

[eternal-brainrot]

guess who got covid :( i was so proud of myself for avoiding it up until now as well :(

[drdemonprince]

to the anon who sent me the message that took them 4 hours to draft.

I think your experience both with organizing and disability has probably provoked you to rethink the entire concept of "success" as our culture has defined it, even if you feel yourself still longing for some of the comfort and ease that capitalistic success can seemingly provide (or that we are conditioned to believe it can provide). im not sure what to say that can match the effort your put into your message, in fact i am galled by the fact that i know that i can't match that effort. i don't know how to make sense of the fact that a person who is finding it incredibly difficult to remain connected and engaged during this time, due to disability, has decided that i was worth that level of effort when they don't have the energy to message people they know. i don't think i am worth that effort. but i also respect that mired in all that you're mired in, it's a meaningful gesture toward engagement and connection to even bother writing such a message. i just think in a lot of ways i am a misplaced target for it, because i am a ridiculously privileged and publicly exposed individual who receives dozens of heartfelt messages that he doesnt find the time to respond to every single day. i think if anything that i've written rubs you the wrong way you'd be right to approach it with cynicism. because what the fuck do i know, banging around on my laptop every day and getting paid for it. how dare i lecture anybody about not unlearning capitalism adequately enough. i am one of capitalisms little milking cows. a massive publishing company makes a weekly profit off of me, off the byproduct of the worst years of my life and my worst traumas, as well as the meaning i've made from the scholarship of others.

i'm so enraged for you that you got a debilitating case of COVID (after several other cases) on an encampment, and that now the community you foster at that encampment is not there for you. i am disgusted at how more seasoned activists and organizations have regarded student protestors as disposable this entire year, selling them out to the cops, cutting bad deals with campus administration, and sending them to yellow and red risk level actions without adequate communication and getting them kettled and beat, or else nullifying their efforts with mealy-mouthed talk about keeping things peaceful. i see so many toothless, neoliberal protests happening here, ones that serve only as fundraisers for massive nonprofit orgs, and i also see literal teenagers being dragged right into paddy wagons by the likes of the PSL or the RCP while the Dems deride them and dance to Brat tracks, not even pretending to care the way they unconvincingly did in say 2020.

It's all making me terribly cynical, wondering where we are headed and whether i can or should encourage people who are younger, stronger, more energetic, more pliable, and more vulnerable to me to give up all that they've got for a cause when it's likely gonna be chewed up and spit out and not met in effort by anyone else. i am mournful of the fact that even i can't match that effort. every time i get a message from a friend or acquaintance who is going through some new awful traumatizing event i want to just curl up and disappear, because i can't even keep up with sending compassionate messages to all of them, let alone actually showing the fuck up and doing anything for them. and so sometimes i slip into the disaffected, blunted feeling that once led me as a younger man into libertarianism, thinking that all i can or should do is look after my own wellbeing, and fuck everybody else. and obviously that is a horrible path that is not by any means moral and certainly didn't help me anyway. it felt like we were on the brink of a great paradigm shift of some kind, a collapse of these evil systems, and now it feels like all of that is as far away as it's ever been, and that there aren't enough people with class consciousness and care for one another to make it happen.

i don't know. i think we all have to abandon our dreams of success, of comfort, of saving the world, the fantasies of everything being fine. i think we need to look to our immediate surroundings and our communities. i think we need to ask for help a whole hell of a lot more than any of us are doing, and to recognize that that is a form of helping. i think we need to get small. and remember we are weak animals. and stop thinking there is anything special or chosen about us. and to remember that nature can often be very cruel and that there is nothing we are owed. disabled people already know this of course, we know life isn't fair. we try to do what we can and yet we wake up feeling even less capable the next day, and it knows no logic and the universe remains indifferent to it. but there are people around us who can care, when we ask them to. and ways that we can just be there alongside one another in the muck of it all. not even necessarily making things better. certainly not being a savior and making the pain go away. maybe just sitting in the muck together.

all of which is to say, i am feeling stuck and overwhelmed and useless myself, anon, and i dont have any more answers than you. but thanks for messaging. im sorry people have taking advantage of you. including in my opinion lots of other activists. looking after yourself and not letting people guilt you doesn't mean turning into a conservative. the kind of anarchy that i am embracing right now is one that goes beyond linear change, beyond making meaning, beyond any idealistic visions of the future, beyond even fighting for some kind of symbolic survival. it's just being. none of it has to mean anything, none of it has to be headed anywhere. it just is. there is plenty for you to be bitter about.

[hopelessrromantix]

where i've been

TLDR: Life sucks and so does the government. Half my family got hit with some pricey medical bills plus our normal rent, so donating or sharing this would be beyond appreciated.

I know you’re all thinking “Roman! You haven’t written anything in a month, what’s going on?” First, valid question. Second, dear GOD where do I start.

Let’s keep things simple. This past month has been the literal definition of hell for me. Everything started off fairly normal, until my two remaining grandparents started having frequent hospital trips. My father spent most of his time caring for them, living mostly at their house. Given that he works most in our house, he wasn’t having an easy time. He ended up developing what his doctor said was “stress tremors”, to the point that he went on disability.

Well, even after my grandparents were a bit more stable (though still on close watch)... they continued anyway. Eventually it got so bad my mother drove him to the hospital one night and what do you know, brain tumor.

Queue several days of our family wondering what the everloving fuck we’d do without my Dad. It was several days of my dear mother (note the sarcasm) trying to control everything, my brother trying to continue school, and me taking care of the house and our pets.

We got the scans back not long after and, cue sigh of relief, the tumor was benign. It still seemed to be draining the life out of my father, though. The nurses and doctors were absolutely floored because his tumor was absolutely huge but he had no headaches. Imagine a baseball in your head. Yeah, exactly. He did however stare at the wall for hours and had a hard time getting out more than a few words. It’s probably one of my most heartbreaking memories to watch the strongest person I’ve ever known reduced to a husk on a hospital bed.

Brain surgery came soon after. He made it through and is currently in recovery. He’s speaking actual sentences, though he’s still got tremors and needs a lot of help. Still, I’m just happy to have my father.

That same week, we noticed my cat acting off. We have two of them and my cat, Gallifrey, is a talkative sweetheart who’s attached to me at the hip. But he was meowing differently and acting weird and all around not normal. One vet visit later and we find out he has kidney disease and pancreatitis. He’s being treated for it (new food, possible meds, regular fluid injections, etc.), but he’s still not himself yet. Talk about my life falling apart. This on its own my family couldn’t even begin to afford. The government seems to hate disabled people and paying for numerous doctor’s visits wasn’t remotely in our paper thin budget, much less the meds and treatment.

It was a lot all at once, and not even close to what we expected. Gallifrey is only 7 and my father didn’t show the typical signs of a brain tumor. So, I guess the universe thought “Y’know, this is a perfect time to kick Roman in the fucking balls”.

Routine testosterone blood test, just monitoring… until I got a call from the doctor. Turns out I have some untreated issues that none of my previous doctors caught. In fact, the only reason she caught it was because it was so severe. According to her she was shocked I’m still up and kicking and not in the hospital for a blood transfusion. Apparently my red blood cell count and oxygen level is insanely low, and she asked me to take a Covid test (negative), so it turns out it’s a completely different issue. I’m still in the process of diagnosing it, so that was a fun little addition. With my chronic pain and my mother in denial, I sleep most of the day and am in constant pain the entire time.

I’ll be real, I’m not a fan of asking for money. It’s not something I like, but it’s something I have to do. The amount of treatment we need, my dad, Gallifrey, and me, is more than we can hope to afford on our salaries (thank you, American healthcare!). The medical process in this country is a joke.

I’m asking y’all to help me out. Sharing, donating, whatever. Everyone around me has been kind and supportive, and I'm beyond thankful for that. If you can’t donate, please send it, share it, do whatever, I'll take absolutely anything. If I’m honest? The number I’m asking still won’t cover it, but anything is helpful.

Thank you for reading this far, thank you for sharing, for donating, for being kind, for absolutely everything.

I also understand that the internet is a horrible, despicable place, so I can give any breakdowns of what the money would be used for and give any medical info (not releasing family names or locations) to provide proof. The page includes a lovely little x-ray of my father’s head so you get to see the absolute insanity. If this isn’t enough please let me know and I can link anything else needed to confirm that yes, I am actually having the worst time of my life.

All in all? Thank you.

Donate here if you can <3

[macksting]

The last week has been a lot. So. Youse folks may be aware we're homeless. The lease ran out and we had no income and no jobs lined up, so we were just picking the best place to be homeless and trans, and the answer was where we had the most friends and family, back home in a state I really thought I'd never see again. (Not for lack of affection. It's a weird place.) We took a flight at the worst time, over the New Year, risking being part of the COVID spike. I even thought I had it. I think I caught the flu on that flight. We stayed at a motel for a few nights, then that ran out, and we stayed with some friends. However, the terms of their lease meant we couldn't stay long. They decided, as the weather got worse and worse, to let us stay longer than they originally intended; family shouldn't let each other freeze, and they're found family. However, that was set to run out on Thursday, that is two days from now. On Saturday, the transformer exploded outside. Two inches of ice all over town, much of it very dangerously smooth. Finally, after 70 hours without heat or electric light, with propane and lamp fuel running out, they said fuck this and started setting up to leave, and we were not presented with the option to stay. But at that point the slightly above-freezing weather and rain had begun to freeze over again, making a shiny new layer of ice over everything that had at best only maybe smoothed out or slightly thawed. We prepared to book it to the next place, which ostensibly would let us stay one night because of overcrowding, but that was before the ice storm. We haven't asked how long we can stay here. Getting here was its own ordeal, though, and I was starting to wonder if my meager B&E skills would come into play somewhere downtown.

Anyway, we helped free the neighbor's van. It wasn't at all certain how that was going to pan out; we tried calling friends, but everyone was trapped or unwilling to endanger themselves to get us. We did call a Lyft. The brave, foolhardy soul got to the foot of the driveway, which is at times a 25 to 30 degree grade of slope and iced over despite great efforts to keep it clear. He got to the bottom, we failed to coordinate efforts, and he decided fuck this shit (I do not know what words he used) and left, and I respect that. Discretion is the better part of valor, so Cicero said.

The neighbor ventured out, got gas and air for their tires, and returned, and with our friends' help we lowered ourselves and our baggage into the van, which got halfway up the drive before it was able to progress no further. Our kiddo slid down holding the line in one hand and sliding on a flattened cardboard box. Lovie was at the bottom, loading luggage in the back. It's a damn wonder, frankly. Interestingly, it was in the door I freed up, breaking most of my fingernails and causing both a small wound and a blood blister in the process. Anyway, we are now iced in at a place that has power, and kbities, and my child is playing with friends they haven't seen in nearly three years, and it's a lot. We haven't asked how long we can stay. We suspect everyone's playing it by ear. Lovie's handling it all better than I am. She's a trooper, a soldier. I'm a mess, always have been.

So yeah. That's where things are at now.

[ID: A game of klondike solitaire on real cards by lamplight; very dim, no other light sources. Red tablecloth. Cozy and moody. /ID]

[unknwnxquantity]

There is no one from my past that I want back romantically. I’ve healed past all that and made peace with things thankfully. But there are ppl I miss being friends withhhh 😭 like this one girl. It’s a little messy with her bc she was one of my ex best friend’s hs gf. He introduces her to that friend group and I don’t think she liked me much at the time bc I was super close to that friend (and I was his first kiss Idek if she knows that lmao) anyways yeah we were just mutuals for years. Then ended up unfollowing each other on stuff. Which is fine, no hard feelings we weren’t close lol

Fast fwd to peak covid she hits me up out the blue. Refollows me when my ig was still public and id write my silly deep descriptions, DMs me on ig on some “I know this is random but I’ve been feeling lost lately and I just read some of your IG posts. I aligned with all that you said, my soul is calling to you and I really feel like I need you in my life” and some “it feels like every cell in my body is aligned, my ears are ringing, I really feel like I needed to hit you up. Your energy is pulling me in” And I’m like uhm…. Ms girl? What? lol. Me being who I am, a part of me is like omg she feels called to meeee and sees meeee but another part is like …😀? You are this man’s ex hitting me on some “crazy” shit. It was like a couple paragraphs of saying verbatim what I said and how she was feeling lost in life and clicked on my post and then it all started clicking. I responded back kinda vaguely and then days later she’s like hey I didn’t mean to scare you but I never felt that aligned and something so right in my life and was just so excited. And I’m like okay you got me lol let’s be friends and talk about spirituality. Bc I was also going through like a second awakening during 2020, like another huge spiritual journey. This was a phase of me just talking to new ppl on tiktok, tinder, etc, old friends, etc.

People told me not to trust her. They said don’t do it. But I’m glad I trusted her when I did. We’d talk about the most small but intricate stuff bro. From h0lly w3ird, to the stuff that starts with an A that’s depicted in monsters inc (I was going DOWN all types of dark rabbit hole conspiracies with others too during that time, it’s sad but it’s what’s happening behind the curtains)… all the stuff you can’t talk about on social media basically lol to spirituality. Deep rooted, ancient practices, rituals, astrology, medicine, holistic approaches, etc. or even random shit like how a leaf resembles human veins, and that the whole of one human represents a whole of one tree, and how it plays into a whole ecosystem of things. And how trees and humans are similar to one cell. Theres millions and billions, and yet it can be narrowed down to just one for our brains to try and comprehend the endlessness of the universe. Or like this one time I sent her a pic of the trees while I was in nature at this park I’d go to a lot during covid, that helped me heal a lot and I’d go on walks with my family and that started our little walks and talks, and for the first time ever I was close to my mom, bc of those walks. But anyways I sent her a pic and was like hey I thought of you and I sent a voice memo I think idk. But I remember her being like “I wonder what the birds are saying when they chirp.” And I was like YOOOOOO that really rocked my world. Like what are they talking about amongst each other? What other conversations have they had today? What are their day to day lives like? What is their level of consciousness? Do they realize they do the same shit everyday but that everyday is always a little bit different? A different route to fly, a different bug to eat, a different person they see at that same moment just going about their own consciousness? Do they realize the earth is dying around them? We all cross paths and yet never bat an eye to each other and not realize how fucking cool but random life is. We had a lot of talks like that. It felt like someone really got it. How mysterious and infinite life is. Infinite infinities, infinite everything it hurts my brain to think about. It’s all happening at the same time. Every timeline, every life, every fucking thing. Our death our past lives our future lives are all happening at the same time!! Are you even real? Am I the only consciousness and everyone else is a projection that was randomly set by the simulation? Why am I in this particular simulation? WHO am I really? That’s a scary theory I try not to align with that one. I need to stop my hearts beating fast.

Wait one more. Another random thing that came to mind is why do I feel pain if I bang my hand on the counter? Or a hard surface? What makes a surface hard? Why instead of pain, why don’t I feel happiness or yodel (yodel is never apart of my vocabulary idk why out of all words that was what I thought of)? Who decided that the feeling of pain is the appropriate reaction for when you bang your body part on something? What is pain? Why does emotional pain hurt more than physical? I know why, but who in the simulation made the rules like this???? Why does it rain from up above, but not from the ground up? Why does it rain period? WHO looked at the rain and said “yup let’s call this rain”? My mind always thinks like this sober bro that’s y I can’t smoke bc then I really start to see the world happening all in one moment it’s too much.

Going into my memories thinking about this is making me feel a little weird. Like I should leave her in the past. Which I am! But I’m always like no it’s okay let’s go through these weird feelings i didn’t need to bring up and explore it even if it makes you feel weird for the next couple hours or days. Just to revisit them.. I’m allowed to reflect.

Back to the original plot of the story, I had to cut her out my life tho bc she betrayed my trust. We started to like each other a little but she was in DR with her grandma for the summer. We’d talk almost everyday til she got back and we were suppose to meet up then she stopped responding for a bit. Something was off and she didn’t admit to it at first. Til she randomly tells me like hey.. I didn’t know how to tell you this but I moved in with my ex bf bc my family didn’t wanna take me back in (which is why she went to her grandmas in the first place). I felt so fucking betrayed. I stopped talking to her and she would text me hoping to forgive her and that she really missed me. I already knew she wasn’t the most trustworthy person to begin with, when I learned the tea as to why ex best friend and her broke up. I can’t really go into too many details, it was something she did, but she never told me herself so idk. lol but yeah. Even months after that, I accepted her apology bc it wasn’t really that deep in retrospect. But then I had to cut her off bc she said something while I was in my relationship about having a dream about me and we made out…. And once my gf found out about that bc ofc that’s gonna have to come up. There was other little things too that happened with her where my gf was like no she cannot be in your life if we’re in this relationship bc that’s disrespectful and she’s crossed boundaries. Which I agree. I cut her off out the blue tho, even after we had a convo about us being on good terms. It sucks but sometimes you gotta do what’s right to protect your relationships energy. She even re requested to follow me on IG over a year ago tho and that’s just a bit messy. Messy girl. That right there proves she does not take loyalty in relationships seriously. But is that unfair to say? She’s in one tho with a man traveling living her best life. Hope she’s doing good. Okay edit……. I found out she’s pregnant?? What is life. Congrats tho fr

Idk what the point of this was. I was feeling nostalgic this morning. I’m slowly learning that just bc you miss someone doesn’t mean they need to be in your life. Past me would be like BUT BUT WHY, WHY CANT PPL JUST GIVE INTO THEIR EMOTIONS :( But now I’m like I get it. Logically sometimes things are left better untouched. It’s a balance of knowing when and when not to do something even if you really want to. And even if the good intention is there, life’s about reading the room and trusting the universe. Not trying to bring things back to life when it’s better left untouched or at least untouched in this moment. Maybe it’s done for the rest of your life, or maybe just for this period of time in your human experience. It’s like when the media makes more and more sequels of a movie that was better off with just the one movie. Like Toy Story 3 and 4 wasn’t necessary. It was cute. But it tarnishes a little the image of how beautiful Toy Story 1 and 2 were. Or like jersey shore family vacation, like y’all need to dead that already. Again, it’s all about reading the room. You can’t just give into your impulses. That’s a main struggle I have too. So I’m trying to become more disciplined. That’s part of what life’s about (s/o to my Virgo north node🤪🥲).

[winderlylandchime]

I came on your blog to send you a few updates about my brother because the man is a gift that keeps on giving and then I saw that you tagged one of the posts about wanting an update about my brother. Gotta love it when the planets align that way haha. I apologize for how long this is but it has been an interesting week in my brothers life so I tried my best to keep it short and failed as you can see lol.

First of all I had to break the news to him about Randy retiring from acting to become a therapist. And it went just as how you’d imagine it to go if you imagine a grown man with a tendency to be childish and dramatic reacting to it. So many things happened so I gotta tell you the highlights: We were on facetime and I told him, he screamed (an actual AHHHH while holding a hand to his chest) and then went ‘of fucking course! The second I join the fucking party, he decides to fucking retire. And I’m supposed to NOT take it personal?!’. And while he was going on about it he was also doing something but i didn’t see what and all I saw was him grabbing scissors in a really stupid way (they were pointed towards him) so I went ‘ummmm’ and he goes ‘what? Oh come on, not even I am that fucking dramatic. I’m making myself a *said so that the last letter made a pop type of sound* crop top.’ And then he enthusiastically showed me the shirt that had A LOT of writing on it and he cut it so that only the first word is on it which is “HOLE”…. He is very proud of it btw, plans to wear it to his PT next week.. i swear he lives his life like a reality show mixed with a sitcom.

Anyway, he can’t believe Randy is actually going to be a therapist. Like at all. And then he goes ‘that’s so fucking weird though. Blondie a therapist. There’s no way people won’t recognize him..*long pause* do you think Gale also has a normal job now? Imagine he’s like a professor or some shit since he is nowhere to be found (me: how do you know that?)….i may have googled him..seriously is he even alive still?’ (ngl now i keep wondering if Gale also said fuck it and got a normal job) and then what followed was him gasping and then looking up at the ceiling and going ‘dear god.. i know i talk a lot of shit about you but if you could PLEASE make some gay dude go viral with a tweet or a dumb tiktok video about how Blondie is his therapist, that would be so fucking dope. Thanks bye’ and now I can’t stop thinking about the possibility of some gen z kid making a tiktok about it..

The good thing about this week is that he is finally covid free so i was talking to a non-feverish person which tbh not much difference, the bad thing is the dude somehow managed to get laryngitis so he’s losing his voice at a speed of light and while he was going on and on about Randy, he kept losing his voice more and more..which obviously made things for me, his little sister, a lot more fun. He was completely raspy yesterday and today he kinda still has a voice but not really. And no, none of this has prevented him from not talking about Randy retiring. It’s been over 24 hours.. Mom was annoyed with him because he will lose his voice talking about a middle aged white gay man, so he is balancing it by also talking about Gale aka a middle aged white straight man.

He also got really angry because he discovered that QAF online doesn’t have the right soundtrack (he already knew that but forgot). He was so upset about that that he was going on about it for at least 5 minutes while sounding like a dying goat. He then tried to bribe me to send him my dvds..So now his mission for 2024 is to somehow/somewhere find the dvds. Mom is hoping he doesn’t succeed because she knows full well what would happen aka he will force her to watch it. However our uncle is betraying her by helping him because the 69 year old gay dude likes drama. Mom thinks the fact that she lives 20 minutes away will stop my brother from making her watch it.. She clearly underestimates him.

And then probably my second favorite part because I got to witness it all through texts and voice memos and facetimes is that while he had covid, he had a lot of free time so one day he said fuck it and started going through everything qaf related online. So here’s a bit of a rundown of his 20 years late opinions: He is (still) angry at Hal, he’s angry at one of the writers (i forgot his name but it’s the writer who talked shit about Randy publicly), he has mixed feelings about Dan and Ron just because he’s not very fond of old men but he is also sure as fuck that they had issues with Randy, he found out that Michelle has a child with Bryan Singer and now he doesn’t like her because “i have morals.” He again remembered Gale was Pentecostal and that threw him in for a spiral at 3 am and what followed was a feverish rant about cults (which made no sense but that’s okay). He found old interviews where Randy was not so fond of qaf and that made him have some feelings but it ended up with him announcing a “war” against writers. And then he circled back to his anger at Hal because he decided that he was clearly jealous of Gale/Randy’s attention. He has range ngl. This is also where he decided Gale is a missing person because ‘seriously how the fuck can nobody post anything about him? Make him go to some charity event or some shit, I miss my man.’

Then on the day that I told him Randy is retiring which was like 2(?) days ago, he called me because he listened to the Poly episode of Randy’s podcast again (this lead to me later telling him since he didn’t see the new ep since this was the only one he had saved) anyway he called me to ask ME about if I* think he could be polyamorous (having siblings that youre close with is such a weird fucking thing). Then he decided I was not the right person to ask so he called our aunt who actually is polyamorous while he was on facetime with me and I got to witness the beauty that made me and my neighbor laugh way too hard (i wish you could hear/see him but just imagine a toddler covered in chocolate trying to make a point with an attitude how he totally didn’t eat the chocolate) because our aunt hit him with ‘i mean…stranger things have happened but also (his name), you broke up with your ex girlfriend because she wouldn’t share her purse with you’ He argued it with this and I quote ‘okay FIRST of all how DARE you bring that up, you know I’m still sensitive about that, 2nd the purse matched my outfit so it was rude she didn’t share. 3rd, I shared my two purses with her whenever she asked because sharing is caring, see that proves my point, 4th the purse was in a box for donations so once again: RUDE on her behalf and 5th and probably most important part: she cheated on me with her cousin’s girlfriend 2 days before so I think the least I deserved was to be allowed to borrow a fucking purse.’ Reader, I need you to understand that this happened like 10 years ago when he was like 25. Till this day he is more upset about the purse part than the cheating part. He was upset about that for a week until she texted him she thinks she’s gay and then he went ‘oh..i mean you couldve just fucking said so..btw did you throw that purse away?’ Our whole family still makes fun of that (in a nice way) bc he really didnt care about anything except the purse but also because he hit on a girl at bar once and she told him she’s gay and he pulled up instagram and showed her our accs and went ‘i got a sister or an ex, whose number would you prefer’ so he’s definitely still upset over the purse. Btw the jury is still out on him being able to share a whole human.

And also today which is why I’m sending you this now, I woke up to these next texts: ‘what if i change my therapist and I go to Randy? How fucked up would that be?’ ‘Imagine I end up in his office and just start talking to him about qaf’ ‘wait hold up, imagine if I didn’t know it’s him! And i show up in my Justin shirt and go on this long speech about this show and Brian and Blondie…at what point do you think he’d stop me?’ ‘Okay so I texted (his therapists name) and after he was done being mad at me for asking him dumb questions under the impression of emergency late at night, his only words were ‘in my humble professional opinion, (his name), it would be BEYOND fucked up’ but I think he’s exaggerating, what do you think?’ ‘So what kind of therapist do you think he’ll be? Like one on one ‘you got depression, heres pills’ type or couples or what?’ ‘Also do you think he’ll be a cool chill therapist or will he be one of those that look like they escaped their Mormon family and have a stick up their ass?’ ‘Do you think my man is also doing some random work now? Like mechanic or something?’ ‘My man as in my man Gale btw’ ‘no but fr imagine you go to therapy and the dude who you watched fuck on tv is your therapist… at what point do you tell him that you know what his booty looks like?’ ‘His choice in clients are limited.. either kids with no social media or like the fucking Amish’ So I would say he is handing the Randy retirement/therapist news about the same as all of us… or worse.. I actually can’t decide.

Dear sweet anon! I put out into the universe that I wanted updates from you and your brother and the universe delivered.

First of all, we are all devastated about Randy retiring from acting/public life. But also, as a therapist, I do support this journey for him. I do think it will be hard but he will have supervisors along the way to help him navigate the fact that there is footage out there of his butt on a Showtime show. Either that or he can only see clients who are toxic levels of heterosexual.

Speaking of your brother's idea to covertly become his patient, may I direct you to this anon I received? Here THE FANDOM KNOWS YOUR BROTHER AND PREDICTED HE WOULD WANT TO INFILTRATE RANDY'S THERAPY PRACTICE.

The soundtrack online is a travesty and is also homophobic. Would your uncle help me find the DVDs too? I have S2 but not the rest. (I don't even have a DVD or Blu Ray player but I also bought the entire David Tennant Doctor Who collection on Blu Ray (well minus 14 I guess) so at this point I'm just collecting stuff. (I do have a link to a google drive with all the episodes but you or your brother would have to reach out to me by DM here or on discord (thataj.) because I can't post it publicly (it's not actually mine lol).

I think it is very polyamorous to break up with someone for not sharing. Also, I am now curious about his collection of purses. Isn't sharing the name of the game in polyamory?

I think all of his opinions about everyone are so valid. We do get one (1) proof of life from Gale on social media per calendar year. Usually on someone else's account. I know there was a post of him in 2023 so we need to look out for 2024. I do NOT know what he is doing to earn a living these days. It is very likely he has a job that is not in entertainment or at least not on stage or on screen. Maybe entertainment adjacent?

Thank you so much for this update. I love that this continues to cause drama and discussion in your family. I love that your brother's therapist is fully involved. And I love that you continue to share your family with us.

[thessalian]

Thess vs Stripping to the Bone

I was doing a brief Facebook check and found a thing that probably amazes me more than it should.

One of the groups I follow is a Critical Role fan group where they mostly show / sell CR-related crafts but also lately have been selling just general CR merch they happen to have (which is kind of indicative of how stretched some people's budgets are getting). Anyway, one post on my feed was someone selling the original Tal'dorei Campaign Setting Guide by Green Ronin, plus some TLOVM merch, for $90 plus shipping. Eyebrow-raising enough on its own, but more so when someone else fairly active in that group flagging up that the Tal'dorei Campaign Setting Guide just by itself had gone for $125+ on recent eBay auctions.

I mean, I knew that book is a part of CR history and all that, and that now it's a rarity because it's out of print (probably because of some legal issues with Green Ronin when CR became its own company), but I guess I never really thought of it all that much in terms of its financial worth. Or at least I never put a number to it. And that's ... I mean, that's a number. For a lot of people, that's a number that can help them eat for the month, or help pay a sudden vet bill, and it makes me very sad that people need to sell things they cherish just to live. I mean, not only can people not afford nice things half the time, but desperation ends up obliging them to sell the few nice things they already have.

And then I look over at my sourcebook shelves, where I have a copy of that signed by the entire cast, and there's a minor intellectual curiosity about what that would go for at auction. I mean, given what I went through to get those autographs, and how many wonderful memories I have of that day despite the pain it caused, I would never give that up unless it was absolutely desperate, and am privileged not to be in that position. But... I was going to say it was an idle thought, but ... I guess it isn't, really, because I know that positions change and privilege of that type can be lost.

I've had to think of what things I cherish I could bear to sell so I could have the money to eat before. It was a long time ago, and I didn't even have all that much I cherished back then. Now, though? Now I look at Sunak talking about really wanting to strip disability benefits to the bone because "Everyone should work and we should reward the people who are working with income tax cuts, not reward people who are abusing our benefits system because I cannot believe we're so much sicker now than we were a decade ago!" (Which ... dude, long Covid is a thing, and a lot of it is your fucking fault for that Eat Out To Help Out that you were happy for people to die over, so yes, we are, and it's YOUR FAULT! But never mind.) I recognise how lucky I am that I can afford to only work part-time, and have a roof over my head without the exorbitant rents we're expected to pay in this country, and still be able to eat and to have nice things. But even with the safety nets that I recognise I have (and recognise how fortunate I have to have them), things in this country are bad enough that I sometimes have to consider what I could afford to lose if I had to; what I would sell to be able to eat.

It's stupid that that book is one of the last things that would go ... or maybe it isn't. Just about anything else I could replace when / if things got better, but ... it's that punchline of that one John Mulaney sketch - "It's the one thing you can't replace".

This is insanely depressing to think about. I hate that we live in a world where we have to.

[intoxicatinginsanity]

It’s nights like these, where the thought of the view from halfway down is no longer a deterrent that works on my brain. I see the welcoming comfort of the forever sleep and I don’t immediately go, ‘no that just won’t do’. I dwell. I dip my feet in the dark waters, feeling the tug of the current on my skin; wondering how quick it would be.How inevitably painless it would be; if I just allowed myself to get pulled in by the undertow.

It would be scary, sure. But then, it would be done. And so would all the things that never seem to stop going wrong in my life. My inability to hold down work. My lack of prospects as a woman in my late twenties. The fact that my degree is ultimately useless. That I’ve worked nothing but menial jobs my whole life so I don’t qualify for anything of “ high pay value”. That I had to take a three year work gap because my partner caught cancer, and then a pandemic hit, and then after that pandemic they got an auto immune disease. That same condition we can’t even get formally diagnosed because our countries medical system is completely shit and the insurance available for the low income essentially hopes that we just die.

There’s also the ever growing realization that there is no one I can really turn to for help; especially not my family. That I’m at the edge of poverty, and that point in time is quickly approaching. That it’s either take a trash job that will work me until I’m more than the hollowed shell I already am, and put me at risk for contracting health issues from covid. That I also have to put my partner at risk of hospitalization, further immune issues and possible death, for said trash job. And then there is my usefulness, or rather uselessness as someone with utterly terrible executive function. My ADHD makes the most simple things, painstaking hard. My autism, makes it even harder. And the responsibilities keep piling up, and I am terrible at juggling. Everything is so overwhelming all the time. And frankly I just feel like imploding most days and when I look at myself in the mirror all I ever see is a burden and a failure. And I know everyone around me sees it too. And while yes, I know it will “get better”. Better isn’t here. Better seems so so far away. And I’m so so tired. And the weight I carry everyday is unbearably heavy. And on nights like this, I don’t feel like I can keep carrying it all.

But I’ll try anyways…because that’s what I have to do. I have to keep moving, performing, contributing, etc. Until I no longer can and then I’ll just be another fucking statistic that got caught in the cog of the capitalist machine. Trying to keep float when everything that is vital to living and having a stable life is only achievable through monetary means is fucking torture on the mind and body. And I’m so tired.

[dreamswapafterdark]

Took a break from writing around 10 pm, it's now almost 5 am. I spent 7 hours reading manga and finding out my two favourite characters died. I know I'm adding that into my febwhump because writing is the only way I feel emotions beside rage, happiness and panic. Can confirm I don't feel grief from the funeral I went to back before covid, people I was related to and cared about for years were gone, and I just was watching people cry, and no getting it. Think I'm going into sleep deprived rambles. But, I'm so adding Finch breaking the magic suppressants so Killer can break free and fend off Angel, even while in a weakened and traumatized state. He can still resist, so despite being broken, he still does the only thing he can to fight.

*leans in reeeeeal close*

hey wiggity woogity buddy chum friend pal want a new year confession 'cause it's gonna get pretty dark but I figure that stuff is up yo alley. so uh hi traumadumping for ideas for febwhump! no seriously a lot of traumadumping. feast to your soul's delight

Sometimes I wrote angst fics of dreamswap characters killing or harming themselves to that I wouldn't do the same. And also being able to comfort other characters, because I can't comfort other people for the life of me and there was nobody to comfort me, either irl or online.

Writing literally kept me from killing myself when I had no one and nothing but a box opener that gradually sliced me up and a bottle of pills that could have killed me. some people think my old writing is cringey and tbh I can see why but also. it's MY cringe that kept ME from dying so fuck what they think.

This latest fic I'm roleplaying with Silver along with a few roleplays with my friends kept me fuckin' sane when Disgraced Fox was rampaging with his bullshit about me being a pedophile (in the same fandom that called a 15 year old a "reverse pedophile" a few years ago... oooh funny how the tables turn) as well as sending what is basically underage revenge porn of me, a minor at the time, talking about nsfw shit abt ib//vs nsfw, to other minors. also when mxrtified, someone i found out was an old friend when i was 16, blocked me for ...some??? reason which hurt a lot back then (i also suspect the above ib//vs bullshit but at this point it's harder to care. tho back when that happened I was seriously lucky I didn't fuck myself up or worse thanks to my headmate intervening)

also fun fun funny fun fun fact! you know the people, Cottonwood and Sedona, two characters Dream talked about in Chapter 15 for TUSOUD? yeeeeeeaaaaaahhhh see, my mom murdered my dad and that was me being like "hmm I wonder what life would be like if I stayed with my mom" and that was what I came up with for why Dream decided to create a governmental/law sort of system! seriously, that fucking murder was a whole ass thing and I STILL can't believe she got away with it like she did. i mean. i was kinda still a kid and afraid of what would happen if my mom found out I talked to police because ACAB (still applies + our justice system is fucked + who the FUCK do I even begin calling + good fucking luck on them finding my mom because I fucking can't) but like. wow you wanna put that shit in a fic or something I can hook you up. also do you want ways in which I was pretty sure she could have murdered me because that was a very real reality for me a while back.

also your fic is amazing and I will kiss you (platonically bc im a trans guy n i don't think you're into that OR into me so NFERGIR) anyway I need to go to sleepytimes

[onyxsnake23]

Oh I don’t think I could actually tell you the exact moment that I realised we were done. It wasn’t made up of a single moment any more than a person is made up of a single interest, it felt more like a thousand thousand tiny things that cascaded into an avalanche under which the relationship got buried. No headstone, just a casualty of the climb. Maybe one day somewhere in the future what remains of us together will be dug up and discovered by some impartial observer and they’ll realise that we were never going to work out “long term”. Whatever that means.

I imagine that at some point in the cold future I’ll reflect on what happened, much as I am doing as I sit here now and wonder why I didn’t try harder to save us. Instead I’ll ache for the cold, detached feeling I was once so willing and able to hide behind, nothing is quite as easy as it used to be it seems.

I sit here, 20 something years old and think back on the last few years, wondering to myself in my loneliest moments “how will I ever survive a lifetime of this? of remembering people for far longer than I have ever known them? And in these moments I feel like I’m shattering into shards of longing and regret and lust and rage. Forever waiting, I suspect, for someone to pick up my pieces and tell me that I am worthy of living, that I am worthy of love and to know in that moment that they meant every word. Much as you once did. But it does no good to dwell on such things, there are people to fuck and music to listen to in the meantime.

I remember when we each bought a bible and told each other that we would read them and that we’d annotate the bits we found hilarious and send them to each other. We never did of course it was just another promise made, another for the pile of things that slowly became our relationship and I think of you every time I see that bible on my shelf. Even though I don’t believe a word of what it preaches it doesn’t seem to matter when it connects me to you through time like that. The barrier of passing time dissolves and I’m sat in my bedroom in 2020 texting you that the bible arrived with butterflies in my stomach waiting on your response.

I read a little while ago that the face you have in your current life is the face of the person you loved most in your previous life. When I look at myself in the mirror I often wonder what kind of person could love someone like me, with all my failures of character and my blatant self loathing that seems to seep into every facet of my life and slowly degrade each aspect of it like the rot that eats away at the house. But then I eat something and drink some water and go outside in the sun and am reminded that I am young and learning to live. Maybe I am not an irredeemable monster with an evil heart, maybe I just haven’t learned to love myself yet, to see my positive aspects, perhaps one day I’ll see myself in a mirror and say to myself “hey, you did great, everything will be okay”. I desperately hope that one day I will be that person and my hope extends to you too.

What’s really crazy about that particular stretch of my life is that most of the time I am convinced I was in love with myself and the moment I was in and not the girl. I was doing well at my first job, finally getting attention from girls, had money, discovering new music all the time, things were great. Kind of a clash with the supposed “national spirit” at the time, Covid 19 was fucking England hard at this point. I didn’t care, I was in a bubble of drinking and sex and music and thinking I might be falling in love with a girl while I was in the middle of sex with a girl I had just met at a party I was invited to last minute by a girl I worked with who also had a thing for me. I felt incredible.

Tell me you love me and watch it break me. Tell me anyway and build me anew from the broken pieces of me that are left behind, with any luck you’ll leave the worst parts of me shattered on the floor.

What’s really maddening about being alive so far is that for all the methods of communication mankind has devised over the last however many decades and centuries, there is no way to communicate all of yourself to another person.

You can’t just open yourself up and say this is what I am, take your time and learn me so that one day you might appreciate the full picture.

You just share bits and pieces of yourself with countless people over your life but in the end I don’t think you can ever truly know a person.

In fact I don’t even think it will be possible to truly know yourself by the end of your life let alone in time to actually make use of this knowledge.

Inside you are infinite, endlessly complicated and flawed, ruined in so many moments by so many things and yet still moving forward, running headlong toward whatever it is you think will finally let you say “ I understand myself now”.

I don’t know anything for certain. My brain just tries to convince me every day that understanding isn’t worth striving for.

The true battle, my true battle, is to continue onward and carry the weight of my infinite self into a future that might just be better than what has come before. To be a true warrior, to fight a battle that’s worthwhile, win or lose.

What do I do with all this leftover knowledge I have of you? When I see something I know would make you laugh, or make you excited for the future? Do I just hold onto it? Let it rest in my head with all the other things I’ve learned but no longer have use for? I wonder if I’ll forget eventually. Part of me hopes I will, but the braver part of me hopes that I am strong enough to carry it with me, to remember you even though you aren’t mine anymore. I hope you’re doing well in your new life but I hope that I never hear a word about it.

Diane said that there are people in your life that help you become the person you end up being and that you can be grateful for them, even if they were never meant to be in your life forever. I like that sentiment, it’s comforting.

That show has saved me a few times now.

I miss people when they leave. I often wonder what they’re up to, hopefully they aren’t as confused as I am about things, it’d be nice to if someone in this world had some clear idea of what they are doing. Even if I doubt it’ll ever be me.

No love, of anything, however brief is a waste.

Do anything that makes life a little more bearable, so long as you aren’t harming someone else in the process.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad for you to have forgotten something and left it in my life so that when you remember and come back to claim it, you look around and realise that this might not be so bad a place to live after all, maybe we were just twenty back then.

I don’t know, maybe it would just be nice to be remembered fondly by someone, a warm thought instead of a bitter memory.

You know sometimes when I feel shitty about myself I pretend i’m someone else, someone confident and bold and unashamed of being themselves. It helps a lot, makes things way fucking easier to deal with sometimes.

What I hate most about myself is my ability to convince myself of anything. It has led me to some of the best decisions I have ever made, it’s made me more confident than I have ever been. It is the sole reason that I can talk myself out of being sad and more often than not it is what makes me sad in the first place. My mind is an unreliable narrator and a perfectly objective judge of every situation, discerning when it is doing which thing is where my trouble usually begins.

There is very little left of me that I recognise.

I get the feeling that everything in life is a celebration of living.

[anxiouspregnantlady]

bye bye baby

i think i've been afraid to write here, to make it feel real, but last thursday we had our u/s and discovered a 6+4 sac with a yolk sac (maybe an amniotic sac??? i think?) and - no baby. of course i feel grief & anger & numbness but also - the relief is unreal. it feels good to know.

so many thoughts.

i'll start with technical things... finally got an hcg done on sat and it was 15499 so more consistent with 6w. waiting on monday's value. had another ultrasound this morning and the sac shrank perhaps ever so slightly but otherwise same. they were (in my opinion) unreasonably concerned about ectopic b/c of a cyst on my right ovary but i always have a cyst on my right ovary and i'm not medical but .uh. isn't that the corpus luteum (also i happen to know that i ovulated from the right).

care-wise. i continue to be so grateful for LWC midwives, they have been absolutely lovely. both u/s techs have been ok. there is apparently a NP midwife at LWC who expressly does early pregnancy loss stuff (!) so i have felt medically taken care of.

i had an itch to want to see if i could do tissue testing on the miscarriage but am probably leaning away from it - too much trouble, worried about scarring, worried about billing (esp without good health insurance). i'll just never know.

i have a strong suspicion that an embryo did form this time, we just caught it too late and it had already stopped developing & had been reabsorbed. i was quite nauseous (still a bit nauseous) & we didn't get a yolk sac last time. and there looked to me like there was an amniotic sac, though it was empty. and it's just a hunch.

i've been so tired, both jetlagged but also just grief. at 5-6 pm i lose the ability to stay awake entirely. you couldn't pay me enough money to stay awake. i just lose consciousness wherever i am. and again after p "puts me to bed" at 8pm i cannot get myself out of bed and sleep for 15, 30, 45 minutes. And then when midnight rolls around i absolutely cannot sleep, i take melatonin, baths, etc. and p has been up at weird hours anyway, crying mama, mama, mama.

showing up to work has been ... well, it's been a miracle that i have been. i did cancel a thursday night appointment after the u/s but other than that i've been fudging my way through, trying not to let show how raw and bruised and completely depleted i am.

k has been wonderful. he is keeping me going. p somewhat understands what is happening. yesterday during bath she announced she had a baby in her belly, and then plucked it out and said she was putting it in mama's belly. she knows mama is going to the doctor a lot and always asks if i am still hurting. i told her the baby is gone. i don't know how to walk this line between being honest with her and protecting her. i kind of think that she must understanding the workings of embryonic life/nonlife better than me, being that much more proximate developmentally/spiritually. only a few years ago she was also in the womb! but she is generally still her happy, curious, thriving little self, and we keep thinking how depressed we would be without her.

sigh.

it was too good to be true.

i only asked the universe for one more baby.

i think, maybe even more than wanting to have this baby, i wanted to never ever ever have to fucking go through this again.

(but i did really want to have this baby)

i am back in the world of Not Knowing. i don't know how many more pregnancies i will have or how many tries it will take to have those pregnancies, or how many weeks each of the pregnancies will last. i still don't know! why! my! body! can't! carry most pregnancies to term!

k thinks maybe we were just too sick and stressed from all kinds of bugs (including covid) and from the 40 hours of travel and 13hr timezone changes and his loss of employment and loss of insurance. and that's why we miscarried. i don't think the line is so clear, but i think one big takeaway from this whole thing is: i need mothering. in my desire to mother another child (and in my struggle to mother the one i already have), i sorely need mothering. i need a warm, generous, wise, and proximate figure to be keeping tabs on me - i need to be on their radar - i need their hugs, hot drinks, meals, nurture, comfort, advice, solace, confidence, life experience.

so my body is still clinging to this pregnancy (coming up on 9 weeks), and i suspect it will be awhile before I start bleeding. maybe christmas.

and then?

and then we are definitely going to take a break. there is (just a bit) less hurry this time - we have our hands full - and i do want to develop some better habits re: nourishing myself, caring for myself. i've barely eaten in the past 5 weeks. and anyway we are going to wait for k to get a job and new health insurance, and we are focusing on some other dreams too.

and then i want to do a bit of testing, maybe a hysteroscopy/endometrial biopsy, a few clotting tests that we missed, re-check my thyroid, etc. have a WTF appointment w dr. kelly/make a plan.

and then we'll see. immediately after i got the news i felt strongly that i could never go through this again, or risk going through again. i felt that we would just have to walk the path of accepting that we were done growing our family. it felt good to be like, HELL yah we won't contribute to overpopulation or subject our unborn child to this mess. but that doesn't really resonate... i still really want to try. to have a child and to raise them so that it is worth it.

so many things hurt about this. hella everyone is pregnant or giving birth. i hate the dejavu with our first pregnancy, feels stuck/stagnant & like we are destined to be in and out of sad ultrasound appointments. feel like we wasted our trip.

[indigo474]

81223

I had a fun time with Marci. We did not make it to the club- we went for a walk and our night of dancing did not happen and i am OK with that. I like Marci and feel safe around her- which is weird because we are so very different. She's lived so much more life than me and its nice to have someone who gives good advice and support.. she has her opinions- strong ones. I think she feels safe with me too.. its a nice friendship and i get Mom vibes from her- today at breakfast we started talking about covid.. I know her political stance- she has never once asked mine and for that i am glad. she has a jacked up shoulder and i suggested it was from the covid shot- she insists its from actual covid. i dont see how. it would make more sense to believe her shoulder problem was from having an experimental liquid injected into her arm than from her having a virus but what do i know? so she keeps saying how many shots did we get.. WE- her and I- how many shots did WE get. I havent had any- and i could have said so, but people get weird and i really feel the only reason i didnt get any shots was because i dont watch tv and i had no fucking idea what was going on in the world during covid- i honestly think had Mads and i been watching tv we would have gotten the shots.. i didnt want to defend my ignorance- of course now, im glad to not have gotten the shot and im glad Mads didnt get the shot.. anyway i took a guess and said 4 shots- i was correct. she says when i turn 50 i have to get a bunch of shots.. i will get a flu shot before i turn 60. maybe at 60 i'll start getting shots. we had a nice time- sitting by the pool and going out to eat and the spa-- the spa was wonderful and i really should start get massages. so wonderful. i liked the facial but did not think it was worth $200. i got the magic milk facial.

i'm going to give up drinking alcohol. i think i should. i really do not like the way it makes me feel- i dont "really" drink- but i do and i think its time to say good bye to it.. and i feel a certain way about this. i'm not sure why. Maybe because it's a social thing- not hat i am social.. but on the few times i am invited out it is usually for a drink. people get weird when they hear someone doesnt drink- i dont even know why i feel like i need to not drink. something is telling me to give it up for good. it's weird and yeah.. i guess i don't drink.

I saw James this week. my back was bothering me again on wednesday when i saw him.. i got my period on thursday.. by friday morning i was having a full blown period. to the point i had to buy tampons. so maybe that was the cause of my back issues. he worked me real hard on upper body on tuesday but went easy wed for lower body.. he changed everything up. totally different routine.. i have no idea what he has me doing. front loaded squats.. i have no idea what anything else is called.. hopefully i'll get to do a full lower body routine this week.. dead lifts.. i think that is what i had to skip because of my back. he says i'll get use to it. i was telling him how i want to start hitting the gym in the morning before work but i am unable to get myself out of bed. i'm up.. i just cant get out of bed. he suggested i maybe start by maybe going for a walk.he asked me if i liked donuts.. i love donuts.. he told me to treat myself to a donut IF i go for a walk in the morning. i told him i could actually walk to dunking donuts.. i'm going to try.. although i'm not sure how starting my day with a donut is going to make me feel. a donut just might be what i need to get me out of bed in the am.

[sellieellie]

things went downhill fast.

the night before mother’s day, my mom gathered us all in the living room to tell us she was diagnosed with breast cancer earlier in the week. it’s very treatable but it’ll be painful and we never know when it could come back.

she was acting nonchalant about it but i know she’s doing it so we won’t be scared. im still scared.

she tested positive for covid the next day. i’ve been taking care of her. my sister tested positive too. all of our mother’s day plans were cancelled.

she’s recovering but it’s hitting her a lot harder than my sister. i’ve never seen her look so worn out. it worries me a lot. i wonder if she’ll be like this until she recovers from the cancer. i wonder if she’ll be like this forever.

i feel selfish for feeling so scared because im not the one who is sick. i hate seeing her like this but i know it must be infinitely worse for her, feeling awful but trying to stay strong for us. i feel guilty for how little grace i’ve been giving her before i knew.

i also feel conflicted. because i know that she’s given me plenty of issues but now i feel even guiltier than before for blaming her since she’s been sick.

im just scared. i haven’t told anyone yet. but moms having surgery soon and they’re gonna wonder where i am when im taking care of her, so i have to. i just hate to put such a damper on things.

im seeing everyone tomorrow. i think that’s when i’ll tell bella at the very least. i know that she’ll tell jason, who might tell his friends. i might leave it to bella to tell the others. idk. i don’t know how many people i can break this news to. i haven’t quite processed it yet. im afraid i might not until i say it out loud.

we’re letting go of will. he betrayed our trust in a way im not sure im ready to talk about. i think i have some other things to process first. for now i’ll just say, i feel manipulated and lied to and i hope he stays away from women for the rest of his life.

this next problem im gonna talk about seems trivial to the rest but it’s kinda nice to focus on something that doesn’t really matter. every time i say something in the big gc, spencer stops responding. im not sure why he has beef with me again. i can’t figure out what i did wrong, he is so wishy washy and it’s so frustrating and im so sick of it. after things ended with us, we talked about it, apologized to each other, and i thought we were good, but i guess not. he got a girlfriend at school so idk why he’s still focusing on our “beef” (which is completely one sided). i just don’t know to fix this. i feel like my presence is a bother to him and so i never respond in the gc and i feel anxious when i go to hang out with friends. idk.

i started my summer job again and i fucking hate it. my supervisor changed and he’s a micromanager and is working me to the bone. i also found out that my coworker who does the job i started out with (i now do more difficult things) gets paid $3 more an hour than i do. so that’s wonderful.

my dad is moving this weekend and im the only kid who won’t be too busy to help him. my sister lives an hour and a half away and the other will be working. so it’ll just be me, him, and his neighbor’s moving company. not really looking forward to it.

we’re supposed to go to our of state next weekend for a funeral. an uncle on my dads side passed unexpectedly a few weeks ago. i feel so bad for that side of my family. they seem to be in a lot of pain about it. i didn’t know him too well but i do know he was very loved.

anyways.

there’s just too much on my mind right now. i have a lot to process and think about. my heart drops every time i look my mom. seeing her weak breaks my heart. i’ll update later if i find the time.

[whysojiminimnida]

My Latest Crazy BTS Military Service Theory: WANNA HEAR IT?LET'S GOOOO --

Here's what I think. I've been thinking it for a second but it took a minute to work its way through my brain SO

This whole Vegas concert date flex has been in the works for awhile. It was planned as soon as they were invited to perform and got hosed in the nominations. BECAUSE.

If the Grammys sees the press and feels the heat and actually AWARDS THEM the Grammy they deserve (and let's be honest, they have deserved it MORE THAN ONCE) - they will be the ONLY Korean group with a Grammy. That qualifies as an international award. That's a gold medal at the Olympics, kids. THAT GIVES PARLIAMENT A LEGAL REASON TO EXEMPT THEIR SERVICE ENTIRELY and keep the cash and influence flowing into Korea.

We can hate the Grammys all day but there is a method to the madness and is is based on Korean law and precedent for exemption of military service.

And Korea wants BTS not to have to serve. It's better for the GDP of the country for them to be out here spinning gold out of thin air while they're in their prime.

But it's tough to get that through Parliament without changing law, and they've already gotten the law changed once with the BTS Deferment amendment. SO in order to protect themselves, the politicos are all like "IF YOU GET A GRAMMY" which let's be honest has been a thing for YEARS. Literally had they gotten one last time we wouldn't even be wondering about military service now. But this is about the LAST YEAR THEY CAN PULL IT and not have Seokjin and Yoongi having to go in anyway. COVID has done a number on the timing, too.

SO. WHAT IF THEY DON'T GET THE GRAMMY? It's a fair question, a really fair question, because we know how the US awards system likes to fuck over our guys. Racist asshats, the lot of them, and jealous into the bargain, but what can BTS do about a system over which they have no control?

THEY CAN FLIP THE GOT-DAMN SCRIPT. Paint the town purple. Call ARMY out of reserve status and into active duty. Combat, if you like. If they can show up on the red carpet and go "yeah that's cute how your capacity venue is now our movie theater for overflow because our fans will pay admission to watch us BE IN THE SAME CITY" and smirk while the American jackwagons get really uncomfortable really fast because WE AIN'T GOT A SINGLE ARTIST THAT CAN DO THAT.

Then, when they go home, they make some calls. They go "look here's the thing, y'all want us to bring in $30-50 MILLION US DOLLARS per tour stop OR you want us to come home and play trumpet in the Korean Army Band like Lee Taemin, because those are your options" and Korea likes money as well as the next country. Also Taemin hasn't enjoyed military service up to this point, government publicity be damned. And SHINEE isn't out there pulling in huge crowds or cash into Korea without him, either. It's a longer shot, conservative politicians are assholes about honor and glory as we all know, but it's better than just enlisting and calling it a day.

And given that BTS is at least, in my brain canon, 4/7ths not heterosexual, it would be really nice if they could just NOT HAVE TO DEAL WITH THE GAY-IN-THE-MILITARY BULLSHIT. That's what I think. So if you are going to Vegas, wear your Borahaegear proudly. Show off your merch. Ask everyone if they know BTS. Talk loudly about the amazing shows, the talent, the flex, the beauty, the How You Learned To Love Yourself. WE ARE ARMY AND if I'm right and I think I am (because I always think I am), our guys need us more than they're letting on right now.

They don't get to do this in the military kids Y'ALL WANT GAY ELVIS-THEMED GAY VEGAS GAY WEDDINGS YOU BETTER GET 'EM OUT OF THE KOREAN MILITARY FIRST IS WHAT I'M SAYING. Am I crazy? Maybe. But what if I'm not?

[kjack89]

Message in a Bottle

Since I've been sick with COVID, I decided being feverish and under the influence of over the counter drugs would be the perfect time to try writing for a different fandom. My apologies to my Les Mis loves, but in my defense, apparently an unholy amount of cough medicine causes a person to need to scratch a literary itch, and I figure there's enough fandom crossover that y'all won't be too mad at me.

Our Flag Means Death fic, Ed/Stede, post-season 1. A little humor, a little angst, the usual for me.

(And we'll be back to our regularly scheduled E/R shortly, I promise.)

“Lucius. Lucius! Wake up, mate.”

Lucius stuck his head out of the chest he’d been hiding in down in the hold since being dragged out of the water, the same chest he’d been held captive in by Jim and Oluwande. But whereas last time, he’d been dying to get out, this time, he seemed more content with his fate. Likely because of the whole attempted murder thing. “I’m not asleep,” he hissed, more frazzled than usual. “I’m oxygen-deprived from being stuck in here!”

Maybe content was too strong a word for it.

Frenchie bounced nervously on the balls of his feet. “Better oxygen-deprived than drowned,” he said, ignoring the look on Lucius’s face that said he was beginning to doubt that. “But c’mon, Captain needs you upstairs. We got a letter, and we need someone who can read it.”

“By captain, you mean…”

Lucius trailed off and Frenchie rolled his eyes. “Blackbeard,” he said, with a bite of impatience.

“Yeah, no,” Lucius said, lying back down in the box. “Being almost drowned once doesn’t exactly make me want to emerge and go for round two. After all, the entire point of my oxygen deprivation is to try to hide me from Blackbeard, so I don’t see—”

“No, it’s fine,” Frenchie said brightly. “We’ve got a plan.”

Lucius eyed him warily. “We?” he repeated. “Who is we?” Jim appeared from behind Frenchie, part of their old disguise in hand, and Lucius’s eyes widened. “No,” he said firmly. “Absolutely not. I would look dreadful with fake facial hair.”

Frenchie and Jim exchanged glances, and Jim grinned.

— — — — —

Ten minutes later, Lucius, newly-bedecked in Jim’s old face wig and a hastily-procured eye patch, emerged from below deck. Absolutely no other attempt had been made to disguise his appearance, so it was little wonder that his knees wobbled slightly as Frenchie all but shoved him across the deck to where Ed was pacing, a letter clutched in his hand.

“How’d we get a letter anyway?” Lucius asked under his breath. “It’s not as if there’s postal service on the high seas.”

Frenchie didn’t answer, just kept prodding him forward as Ed thrust the letter at some poor, quavering sap. “Read it,” he ordered, and the sailor quaked under his glare.

“But Cap’n,” he protested, “I can’t—”

“I said read it!”

The sailor let out a wordless protest that ended in a tiny sob when Izzy Hands grabbed him by the scruff of his neck. “When the Captain tells you to read something, you need to fucking read it,” he growled.

Lucius paled. “Oh hell no,” he said, trying unsuccessfully to turn back around. “I am not—”

“Captain, we found someone who can read the letter!” Frenchie said brightly, gripping Lucius by the arm and marching him forward despite the muttered obscenities pouring out of Lucius’s mouth. 

Ed snatched the letter back from the sobbing sailor, and Izzy reluctantly let him go. As the sailor fell to the deck, Ed whirled around, his eyes wild. “You,” he snapped, and Lucius let out a whimper. “You can read?”

“Yes,” Lucius said, under his breath, and when Frenchie poked him in the back, he cleared his throat and said, with a terrible approximation of a Southern belle affectation, “I mean, yes, Captain, sir, I’ve been known to put my hand towards reading some letters.”

On Frenchie’s other side, Jim let out a snort. “What the hell is that?” they asked.

“I’m disguising my voice,” Lucius hissed out of the corner of his mouth.

“Yeah, but why the hell would you choose that voice?”

“Listen, I’d like to see you try—”

“Here,” Ed said, interrupting their whispered back-and-forth to shove the letter at Lucius. “Read this.”

Lucius gulped but obediently grabbed the piece of paper, his eyes widening as he read the first line. “I, uh, I’m not sure—” he started, stammering slightly. 

“Read it,” Ed ordered.

But Lucius just shook his head, trying in vain to hand the letter back. “I, I’m not really sure that’s – that’s the best idea—”

“Are you deaf, boy?” Izzy snarled. “When the Captain gives you an order, it’s not your place to question it!”

Lucius’s entire body was trembling now, but he still stared determinedly – or desperately – at Ed. “Please,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “It shouldn’t come from me—”

“Just read it!” Izzy barked, grabbing Lucius by the throat.

“It’s from Stede!”

An absolute and terrible silence fell on deck as all eyes turned to Ed, who stood, stock-still, his expression blank. Then, abruptly, he ordered again, his voice quiet, “Read it.”

Lucius winced. “But Captain—”

“Tell me,” Ed commanded, and for the first time, there was a hint of desperation in his voice.

Lucius swallowed and nodded, but before he could start reading, Izzy approached Ed, sidling up next to him. “Ed,” he said quietly. “Captain. You don’t have to do this.”

Ed shook his head. “I do.”

“No, you don’t,” Izzy said, his voice turning heated. “What’s it gonna tell you that you don’t already know? What’s it gonna give you?”

“Um, closure, for starters,” Lucius said, his eyes widening again when he realized he’d said that out loud.

Izzy whirled on him, pointing a finger in his face. “You, shut the fuck up—”

But Lucius, perhaps actually oxygen-deprived from his time in the chest, didn’t. “Just because you’re a Neanderthal who refuses to acknowledge the closure he needs for some of his feelings—”

Izzy grabbed him by the throat again, squeezing until Lucius’s words were reduced to a gurgle. “Listen, you fuck, I’ve had enough closure for my entire fucking life—”

“Read it.”

Ed said it softly, but it was enough to cut through Izzy and Lucius, and Izzy reluctantly released Lucius, who gasped and coughed for breath. “Captain—”

Ed ignored him. “I said read it,” he said instead to Lucius. “Out loud. To me.”

Lucius rubbed his throat for a moment before taking a deep breath and reading aloud, “My dearest Ed, by the time you are reading this, I, Stede Bonnet, will be dead.”

“Dead,” Ed said, his face ashen. He snatched the letter back from Lucius and scanned it frantically, though what he was looking for, Lucius couldn’t tell. Then he straightened, his expression turning stony. “So he’s dead then,” he said, tucking the letter into his pocket.

Without warning, he shoved Lucius toward the side of the ship, and Lucius let out a squawk as he tumbled over the taffrail. “Not fucking again,” Lucius shouted as he fell.

Ed turned back to Izzy, a wild look in his eye. “Burn it,” he ordered.

Izzy sagged in relief. “The letter?” he said. “Of course, Captain, give ‘er here and I’ll be happy to—”

“Not the letter,” Ed interrupted. “The ship. Burn the ship.”

“Ah,” Izzy said, shifting uncomfortably. “Right. Normally, I'm in favor of getting rid of anything with Bonnet’s stench, but since we’re a ways away from Queen Anne’s Revenge…”

Ed’s expression darkened, but before he could say anything, an all-too familiar voice shouted, “Ahoy there!”

Izzy rushed to the side of the ship, Ed hot on his heels. Izzy’s expression turned downright murderous as he saw the dinghy bobbing next to the ship, and at its helm: “Stede fuckin’ Bonnet,” he snarled, as Ed gripped the taffrail with both hands, staring down at man in question as if he could not believe what his own two eyes were seeing.

Stede waved cheerfully up at them, surrounded by the crew that had been stranded on the deserted island, along with a very wet and deeply perturbed Lucius. “Permission to come aboard?” he called.

“Absolutely fucking not—” Izzy started, but Ed just nodded, once, before backing away from the rail, an odd, almost panicked expression on his face, his arms crossed tightly in front of his chest as if trying to hold himself together.

All too soon, Stede and the crew of the Revenge stood on deck, Stede beaming around as if he was thrilled to be back. “Ah, it’s good to be home, don’t you think?” he said to his crew, who didn’t seem remotely as enthused as he did.

Fang squinted from Stede to the dinghy. “You sailed all the way here in that?” he asked incredulously.

“Don’t be silly,” Stede said brightly. “I may have deceptive upper body strength but no, I couldn’t pull that off. No, I sailed all the way here in that.”

He pointed helpfully further out to sea, where a rather impressive-looking single-mast sloop was anchored. Somehow, no one on board had managed to catch sight of it, though in their defense, they’d all been a little distracted. Ivan cocked his head. “But how’d you get a ship?”

“Oh!” Stede said. “Well, I stole it.”

Frenchie and Jim exchanged startled looks. “You stole a ship?”

“What, like it’s hard?”

“Actually, yeah, it’s incredibly difficult,” Frenchie said, at the same time Jim asked, their eyes narrowed, “How the hell did you pull that off?”

Stede suddenly looked deeply uncomfortable. “Ah, well, perhaps stole is a bit strong of a word,” he said. “I merely, that is, took a ship that was…unattended.”

Fang frowned. “Who would leave a ship like that unattended?”

Stede shifted awkwardly. “They seemed to think that no one else would be interested in it.”

“Why wouldn’t no one else want it?” Ivan asked suspiciously.

“There was some talk in town that it had been used of recent for the transport of victims of some kind of…” Stede cleared his throat. “Ah, some kind of illness.”

Frenchie frowned. “What kind of illness?”

“You know, I didn’t really think to ask,” Stede said delicately.

“Did any of those victims die?” Jim asked pointedly.

Stede cleared his throat again. “Er, well, to my knowledge, I believe they all did. As it were.”

“A plague ship,” Izzy said, speaking for the first time since Stede had set foot on deck, derision dripping from every syllable. “You sailed here on a fucking plague ship.”

Everyone on deck took an automatic step back from Stede and his crew, and Stede smiled disarmingly at Izzy. “Not to worry!” he assured him. “As the crew can attest, whatever illness may have been on board appears to have departed, as we are all hale and hearty!”

“Speak for yourself,” Wee John muttered, more than a few of the crew nodding along with him.

But Stede ignored them, having finally caught sight of Ed, hanging back at the aft the ship. Stede approached him almost cautiously, his smile fading. “Ed?” he said softly, reaching out for him. Ed jerked back from his touch and Stede’s hand fell to his side. He didn’t retreat, though, just moving to lean against the rail next to Ed. “Do y’know what I call her?” he asked conversationally, not waiting for Ed to reply. “I named her the Black Beard.”

Ed’s eyes darted to his and away again. “You named your ship after me?” he asked, almost too softly to be heard. 

Stede shrugged. “Well, first I named her the Black Pearl because I thought it seemed regal, but it turns out there were some alleged copyright issues, something to do with a mouse apparently, so I figured I might as well name her after where I was most trying to get to.”

He smiled at Ed, who didn’t return the gesture, just reaching out to wrap a hand around the rail, holding it so tightly that it seemed the wood might snap under his fingers. “I thought you were dead,” he said finally, and Stede’s smile disappeared. 

“Ah,” he said. “Right.” He glanced nervously at Ed. “May I – I mean, I’d like to explain. If you’d let me.”

For a moment, Ed’s face tightened as if he was about to yell, or hit Stede, but instead, he simply nodded and jerked his head towards the stairs that led down into the belly of the ship. As they crossed over, Izzy caught Ed’s arm. “Captain, this is—”

“Lay a hand on me again and I’ll feed you your other pinky toe,” Ed growled.

Izzy’s expression darkened but he took a step backward, letting Ed and Stede pass. They made their way down to the captain’s quarters in silence, Stede glancing at Ed as if unsure what to say. 

When he saw what had become of the captain’s quarters, though, he couldn’t seem to stop himself, wincing as he looked around at how it had been mostly gutted. “I, um, love what you’ve done with this place,” he volunteered in a slightly pained tone. “Gone for a, er, minimalist theme, I see.” Ed said nothing, plopping down on the window seat and staring blankly ahead of himself, and Stede sighed. “Look, I know I owe you an explanation—”

“Perhaps you’d like to start with this?”

Stede blinked when he saw the letter in Ed’s hand, his brow furrowing. “Did you read it?”

Ed jerked a shrug. “I read enough.”

“Oh,” Stede said, wetting his lips before asking, “And?”

“And you said you’d be dead by the time I read it, but here you stand, alive,” Ed said sharply, finally looking over at him, cold fury etched in every line of his face. “For the time being, at least. I haven’t decided if I’ll let you stay that way.”

Stede blanched. “Did you, er, happen to read past the part where I said I’d be dead?”

“I didn’t think I had to,” Ed said icily. “I knew all I needed to from that.”

Stede sighed. “Perhaps starting the letter that way wasn’t the greatest idea I’ve ever had,” he muttered. “May I read you the rest of the letter?” Ed’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Stede as if trying to figure out what trick this was, and Stede added, softly, “Please.”

Wordlessly, Ed held the letter out, and Stede took it from him, hesitating before sitting down on the floor next to him. Ed drew his knees up towards his chest as Stede cleared his throat and began to read:

My dearest Ed,

By the time you are reading this, I, Stede Bonnet, will be dead. Officially, at least, and hopefully somewhat more heroically than the last time I was declared dead. Mary is helping me work out the exact details still, but if it is in as epic a fashion as I certainly endeavor towards, it stands to reason that you might hear about it. And I didn’t want you to get the wrong idea, and think me really dead.

Of course, there’s still the possibility that I might be dead to you. And if that’s the case, I hope you’ll permit this explanation, such as it is.

I know you were waiting for me, and I cannot imagine what you must have thought when I didn’t arrive. If you hate me, I would understand. I hate me, at least a little, though I’m working on that. 

You see all my life I’ve been running, running away from who I am, from what people thought of me. I didn’t want to be Stede Bonnet, the lily-livered rich boy. I didn’t want to be weak and cowardly. I didn’t want to be soft. So I’ve spent the last few years running away from all of that.

Then I met you. You, who was everything I thought I wanted to be, but you didn’t mind that I was weak. You didn’t mind that I was soft. But I still did. And I wanted to be more, for you. I wanted to be everything you deserved, everything you saw in me.

But you didn’t care. You sat on that beach with me and you told me I made Ed happy. And I told you probably the truest thing I’ve ever said, that Ed makes Stede happy.

And then I ran, just like I always have. I thought that it was because I didn’t know how to let myself be happy, but the truth is, I think I’ve spent so long running that I didn’t know how to let myself be caught. And it took going back to where all the running began to realize that being caught’s the only thing I’ve ever wanted, even though I know I might be too late.

I know I have no business asking you to forgive me, and I don’t expect you to. Not without me earning it, and proving that I will do whatever it takes to make you as happy as we were on that beach.

I’m not running away anymore. I know who I am. And I’m finally running towards something: the man that I love.

And I hope, when you’re ready, that you’ll let me catch you.

All my love,

Stede.

Silence fell as Stede reached the end of the letter, and he hesitated before adding, a little weakly, “So, y’see, that’s, um, why.”

He chanced a glance at Ed, and when he saw the tears the other man was fighting back, he didn’t hesitate, getting up off the floor to sit on the bench next to Ed, gathering him into his arms. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Ed, I’m so sorry.”

Ed turned his face against Stede’s chest, and they stayed that way for a long moment, Stede gently running a hand through his hair. Then Ed mumbled something that Stede couldn’t hear, his voice a gentle rumble against Stede’s chest, and Stede’s hand paused. “What’s that?” he asked gently.

“I meant it, too,” Ed said, pulling back from Stede. “When I said that you make Ed happy.” He paused. “That you made Ed happy.”

Stede swallowed. “Right,” he said, reaching for Ed’s hand. “So then—”

But Ed pulled his hand away. “The problem is that you left Ed,” he said, his voice deepening, turning harsher. “And then so did I.”

Stede’s expression tightened. “Ed—”

“I’m not Ed anymore.”

Without warning, he stood, almost causing Stede to topple over with how sudden the movement was. “You should get some rest,” he said, not looking at Stede. “I’m sure you’ve had a long journey.”

“Where are you going?” Stede asked. “We’re not done—”

“We’re done.” Blackbeard glanced over his shoulder. “And I’m going to confer with my first mate on the best course of action to deal with mutineers and traitors.”

“Ed—”

But he was gone, all but slamming the door after him, and Stede stared unseeingly down at the letter, at his heart, in his hand.

— — — — —

Stede woke to a sudden pounding on his door. “Captain!” Frenchie called frantically. “Cap’n, come quick!”

After donning Ed’s dressing gown, Stede headed up to the deck, frowning at the crew milling around in various stages of concerned. “What’s going on?” he asked.

Buttons pointed out to sea. “He stole it,” he pronounced solemnly, and Stede frowned. 

“Who stole what?”

“Blackbeard,” Olu told him. “He stole the plague ship. Him and his crew. They just—”

He broke off at the look on Stede’s face, and Black Peter finished, in what he clearly thought was a helpful way, “They’re gone.”

Stede gripped the rail with both hands, staring at where the Black Beard had been anchored where there was now just empty blue waves. “Do we go after them?” Buttons asked, and when Stede didn’t answer, he frowned and asked, “Cap’n?”

Straightening, Stede adjusted his dressing gown and gave Buttons an imperious nod. “Yes,” he said. “Yes, we shall make pursuit immediately.”

Buttons hurried over to the ship’s wheel at the helm and Olu cleared his throat. “Captain?” he asked gently. “Are you alright?”

Stede frowned. “Of course I am,” he said dismissively. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because Ed abandoned you,” Frenchie said, as if it was obvious. “And when you did the same thing to him, well…”

“He tried to kill most of us,” Lucius finished. “Some of us twice. And then he got rid of all your stuff, and wrote some truly terrible poetry, and—”

Stede forced a laugh. “I assure you, this is quite different from that.”

“Is it?” Jim asked doubtfully.

“Yes,” Stede said firmly. “Because Ed understands.”

“Understands what?”

“That he’s not running away, like what I did,” Stede told them, a little stubbornly. “He’s left to give me something to run towards. And when he’s ready, he’ll let me catch him.”

Jim and Olu exchanged glances, and Jim just shrugged. “You two are fucking weird,” they said.

Stede managed a laugh. “Yeah, I suppose we are.”

Olu didn’t quite look convinced, but nonetheless he cleared his throat before calling to the crew, “Alright, you heard the Captain. Let’s make sail.”

As the crew hurried to get ready to pursue Blackbeard and his crew, Stede drifted to the bow of the ship, gripping the rigging with one hand as he stared out at the water, his heart beating painfully in his chest.

He didn’t really know if that’s why Ed had left. He didn’t know if Ed had any intention of letting him catch him, and he certainly didn’t know if Ed had any intention of ever forgiving him.

But he had to believe that he would.

He had to believe that they’d find a way to be happy together again.

No matter what it took.

“I’m coming, Ed,” he murmured, reaching in the pocket of the dressing gown to touch the letter with his free hand. “I promise.”

[ramcharantitties]

How was your exam bhay

hi. so uhm, Im gonna rant. Well first of all to answer your question, the exam got cancelled because server sucked ass but I still did what i could incase it doesn't. It was super easy- and if the nta decides not to retake, i'm still getting in college.

furthermore- I really, really hate my, the people who live w me. I don't like calling them "family" or "p*rents" anymore. I only like my brother but that fucker is doing mba in bihar. Now, tell me, what were your dreams when you were 15? Small girl, thinking what job she would get. what college she should go. maybe a celebrity crush, right?

that was the first time i thought about k*lling my father. and no he didn't do anything bad to me, but all of it was mental abuse. My mom, in mid 2021, was extremely sick. It was the peak of covid and sooner or later she caught it too. Of course bhaiya and papa did all they could- and thankfully we did get hospital and she was admitted. 2 days later my brother caught covid. they are better now, mom and i are going out tomorrow to buy her some hair colour if anyone's wondering.

but imagine so much tension on a teen 17 yo. well my father always thinks that we did nothing and only he suffered through it. He wants all of us have to same passwords so he can access any of our- mail or any account on his wish. He yelled at me in a fucking moving metro in delhi on 7 pm because i was texting a guy from school. He has confiscated my phone thrice now for no fucking reason. like. in his eyes texting a friend Is a reason, apparently. Hell, he told me to "sit in sunlight in school" because my doctor said i am extremely sick and need vitamin d. you know why? because the fucking house he bought has no ventilation. and dude, lack of sunlight cause some real shit to brain. my mom got migraine in 2016 because of it.

i just want to talk my girlfriend tani and i had to make a whole plan w her that whom she can call so that we can pretend talking about college and i get to talk to her. last time he took my phone and when i got it back, i was texting a friend of mine. He said "why do u have to talk to anyone". My first dream was to move out of this fucking house. and no, my mom doesn't defend me. Instead her only god and world is her dear husband who has never done anything wrong. and let me tell you- they both will rot alone when old because they haven't done any less shit to my bhaiya. i wish they will rot alone. im crying so much i hate them alot. This one time i got hurt and i was crying because it just hurt so fkn much- my thumb got trapped somewhere and it was bleeding and he had the audacity to say "you just pretend so that you dont have to ever work" and when i said that to my mom she denied accepting it.

everytime he goes out i wish he gets in an accident. or i do. like, fr. Anyways i think let's see when will the govt release new dates or smth- also i still have second slot to attend for business studied- so yeah i think it's cool if i get to attend and its still cool if i dont :)