#complex and i am def making this ask longer than it should be but i felt like talking tonight | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jasperwhitcock · 4 years

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hi, ur writing is really good and i was wondering if u could write a short story of like the summer inbetween twilight and new moon? like some cute romantic meadow scene or them hanging out in bellas room acting all cute and stuff. thank u so much

thank u so much! 🥺♡♡♡

also i’ve totally failed u. u asked for cute & romantic but since i’ve just finished midnight sun, i delivered grief and heartbreak instead. i should have written for bella’s POV but. i’m HURT. minor midnight sun spoilers. tw: drug mention

The iridescence of my brightly shining skin reflected onto the rich darkness of Bella’s long hair, highlighting the red tint that only made its appearance in the sun. Beneath the golden rays enveloping our meadow in light, her warm, translucent skin was a lovely shade of cream and apricot. If I were to break from my absolute stillness, the movement would send rainbows dancing along the ivory of her cheek, the hollow of her neck, the curve of her collarbones, illuminating her ephemeral springtime beauty in the midst of summer.

I watched as she turned another page in her worn down paperback book, her face positioned downwards towards the place where it lay atop the wildflowers. Without looking up, she reached for the glass lemonade bottle on the ground before me. I was far more diligent in ensuring her food and beverage needs were being met now. I grasped the bottle for her, twisted off the aluminum cap, and placed it into her slender fingers.

“Thank you.” Her deep, chocolate eyes left the page briefly to bore into mine as a small, kind smile pulled at her pink lips. Her expression cut into me, piercing me, making my dead heart sting as it always did when she looked at me this way. Her glances both thrilled and devastated me. How many more smiles would I be allowed to receive? Knowing they were quantifiable made each one overwhelm me with longing and agony.

I smiled lightly in response, then, once her attention diverted from me again, allowed my expression to be marred by the complexity and anguish that overcame me.

I felt around the ridges of the cap still in my hand, reminded of the token I’d once carried with me from our first lunch together – the symbol of the marvel that I’d been the one she’d said yes to. The mnemonic of hope I couldn’t allow myself to bask in but still placed on the music rack atop my piano, and, despite the sadness of the song, inspired so much desire and promise within me. The memento that had been destroyed in an empty chapel, and with it, the prerogative of any connection to her at all.

What was once a symbol of something miraculous was now a reminder of great tragedy. I shouldn’t be the beneficiary of her yes. There was no hope to be had for me any longer. And despite any promises I’d made, my ties to her were just as ephemeral as she was.

I thought of the first time we’d come to this meadow, and the intricacy of detangling the knot of all of our potential futures. How I promised – no, swore – not to hurt her only to then break that promise too. How she’d asked, “is there no hope, then?” in that pivotal moment.

Of course there’d always be hope. Hope that should only be reserved for someone like Bella.

I surrendered the cap onto the ground.

“Bella,” I breathed, desperate now with the awareness of the little time I had left with the greatest happiness of my existence. She looked up, raising her thin eyebrows. I relaxed first my face, then the urgency of my voice, masquerading my pain as teasing. “Isn’t it customary for high school students to procrastinate their summer reading until a week prior to the semester?”

The v between her forehead relaxed after my change in tone. Sheepishly, she grinned.

“Technically, Romeo and Juliet isn’t our summer reading. I’m reading ahead.” Of course, I knew this, but I’d say anything now to hear her voice while I still could.

“As though you haven’t read it before. Isn’t there something else you’d like to do to occupy your summertime?” Before she could come up with any of her own ideas, I pitched, “spend time with your friends, attend an amusement park, maybe go to the beach?”

“You’re welcome to boogie board in La Push if that’s what you’d like to do,” she snorted at the impossibility, closing her book and placing it beside her. “I’m sure they’d love to have you. I’ll be here reading when you’re done.”

I rolled my eyes at her sarcasm, before getting to the truth I wished to avoid. “I don’t want you to waste all of your summertime with me.” I was both desperate to keep her and desperate to keep her away from me.

Her chin jerked up stubbornly, her eyes narrowing. “And what if that’s exactly how I’d like to waste all of my summertime?”

“Isn’t this the final opportunity to embrace your adolescence before you can be tried as an adult?” I spiraled as I made the joke though keeping my lighthearted mask, but the mention of her upcoming birthday made the both of us wince. Her aging was the most right thing in the universe, and yet, the thought of the minute changes in her face as time’s despicable clock ticked away on her life and her place in my own felt horribly wrong. Though she would never tell the difference, she recovered before I did.

“What exactly is your idea of a typical human summer activity in this scenario? Robbing a bank?” She snapped.

As always, she found ways to soften my affliction. I laughed aloud.

“No, that’s much too advanced a criminal activity for you. Leave grand theft to the professionals,” I grinned widely, winking. Her heart sped, and her eyes blinked rapidly.

“So a misdemeanor then,” she stated after recuperating, narrowing her eyes in mock thought as though she were seriously considering her options. “Are you asking me to smoke pot? You know, I don’t think it’d help your case with Charlie if he found out you were being a bad influence on me.”

“I am a bad influence on you,” I reminded her, reaching to pull her into my arms so that she was seated in my lap, her face inches from mine. The beat of her heart sped again, and an exquisite flush of rose bloomed in her cheeks. I was enveloped in her warmth which was so much stronger than the sun and so much more the center of my own universe and the sweetness of her floral fragrance that was the indication of her precious life.

“This is not so bad,” she mumbled, slightly out of breath. “I’m curious though… What would happen if you were to smoke pot?”

I ignored her question as my lips found the hollow of her throat, kissing the mesmerizing heat of her skin. Bella gasped, and I froze in response, weighing the power of my involuntary reflexes. After a moment, I returned to exploring the curve of her neck, the softness of her jaw.

“If this is you being a bad influence,” she stammered, nearly panting. “Or a bad way to embrace my adolescence…” Bella let out a shuddering sigh, losing her train of thought. “This is how I’d like to spend my summer,” she stated finally.

It was a bad way. The worst way, and yet, this was exactly how I wanted to spend my summer – and the rest of my summers for that matter – too.

also i am def not suggesting weed is bad lmfao but u know... these bitches are mormons

#twilight fanfiction #midnight sun spoiler #midnight sun #twilight renaissance #twilight #ask #anon

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cuttlefishkitch · 4 years

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hello! i haven't talked to you before, but ron said that i could ask you for some advice on writing eds? (i'd like to know things to avoid/common things that could come up in everyday life that would be good to mention/the sort of aids and stuff they'd have maybe?/anything else you think is relevant)

Hi! Sorry this took so long, a combination of ADHD and chronic pain slowed me way the fuck down. Thank you for being patient!

EDIT: WEIRD HEEL THINGS I FORGOT!!

So, before I get into this I should probably say I technically haven’t been diagnosed with Ehlers Danlos Syndrome (EDS for anyone reading) because it’s one of those syndromes that takes forever to get diagnosed with (it took a friend of mine’s mother over 30 years to get dxed). Many doctors, and everyone I know who does have EDS agree with me that it’s probably what causes my chronic joint pain and some of my other chronic issues. But just because three separate doctors have said “Yeah Probably” doesn’t mean I’m diagnosed!! Only a geneticist can do that!! And they had two-three year waitlists BEFORE the apocalypse happened.

I am diagnosed with Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome (POTS), Small Fiber Neuropathy, and potentially misdiagnosed with Fibromyalgia (once I get properly tested for EDS I might get undiagnosed with this because I don’t have most of the main symptoms of Fibro, but I got diagnosed with it anyway because it’s what doctors misDX you with when they don’t know what’s wrong with you and don’t want to do more tests).

All that said, I’ve done a lot of research about EDS (mainly because it’s the only thing that explains all my symptoms since doctors seem incapable of doing so), and know a few people who have either confirmed or suspected EDS, so I’ll link to some stuff, talk about the symptoms that often come with EDS, explain how the symptoms I have affect me, because just because someone’s not diagnosed doesn’t mean they aren’t having symptoms, and probs elaborate a bit about writing physical disabilities and chronic pain in general because it’s super important to me!

So RESOURCES aka how to make sure your post never sees the light of day because you’re linking things and tumblr hates it when people give other people information!!

Youtubers! If you want to know about the day to day of living with EDS or any disability or chronic illness I super suggest finding a youtuber that makes videos about their life. My EDS favorites are

Jessica Kellgren-Fozard

Annie Elainey

Amy Lee Fisher

Websites! If you’re asking random folks on tumblr I’m assuming (and hoping) you’ve already done the basic WebMD google searches and looked over the seemingly ridiculous lists of symptoms and related conditions, so here are a few websites that are made more for people than for doctors.

The Ehlers Danlos Society

OhTWIST (That’s Why I’m So Tired)

ChronicPainPartners (the fact that they have an entire section of articles called “Dealing with Doctors” should really tell you something)

Books! If you feel like doing actual reading! I suggest reading books written by people with Ehlers Danlos, to get a feel for how they portray themselves. I’m not saying steal, but it’s probably a good point of comparison to see how your portrayal feels. (haven’t actually read these b/c my ADHD doesn’t let me read)

Ria Ruse by Morgan S. Ray (a superhero book with a disabled super MC!!)

Mysteries of Maybelle by Imani Benfell (Imani is still in high school and has already written and self-published a book cause she didn’t have enough representation for herself how cool is she!!)

Bodies in Motion by Liana Brooks (tw for pregnancy problems and miscarriages in the link, because it’s a blog post talking about integrating EDS symptoms into the story without explicitly naming them as such)

OKAY, now for some rambling about EDS SYMPTOMS!!!

Ehlers Danlos is one monster of a genetic condition in complexity and variety. There are THIRTEEN different identified types of EDS, it often comes with Mast Cell Activation Syndrome (MCAS) and/or POTS, and can lead to various other conditions like gastroparesis, chiari malformation, craniocervical instability, and/or bad teeth. So if you’re going to be writing a character with EDS consider what other comorbid conditions they might also have. I’m mainly going to be talking about Hypermobile EDS (hEDS) because it’s what I probably have and what I’m most familiar with. That said there is a lot of overlap in symptoms with the other varieties.

I started typing this section and realized I was going to have to break it down even more so we’re going to talk about Chronic Pain, Unstable Joints (Dislocations and Subluxations), Skin Things, Mobility Issues, and Other Weird Shit and how those things get addressed separately.

Gonna get the Other Weird Shit out of the way first. Because EDS is a malfunction of connective tissue it can fuck up all sorts of random things. For instance, I and many other people w/ hEDS have trouble swallowing. Shit gets stuck in my throat, I sometimes choke on and have to cough up food, and pills can be hard to swallow, which sucks cause I take A Lot Of Pills. If it doesn’t cause full-on gastroparesis it can cause IBS or other digestive problems b/c the digestive tract is mostly made of connective tissue. It can potentially cause heart problems even if they aren’t as big of a risk as in some other forms of EDS. Premature osteoarthritis is common because what you need is more joint pain. And Fatigue OH BOY THE FATIGUE. And of course the headaches, can’t forget those pesky migraines can we!

AND piezogenic papules!! I completely forgot!! Piezogenic papules are little white bumps that appear when you put weight on your heel. In some people they hurt, but in others they don’t. They’re technically tiny little herniations of fat peaking through the fascia in the heel. They were added as part of the diagnostic criteria for hEDS in 2017!

Now for Skin Things cause it’s not as big a thing in hEDS as it is in other forms. Basically, in a lot of forms of EDS, the skin is extra stretchy and extra delicate. It bruises and tears easily, people with the extreme versions of this can accidentally scratch something into an open wound if they aren’t careful. My skin is pretty soft and sensitive, I def have the typical velvety skin, and as is pretty par for the course of someone with hEDS my skin is a little stretchy, and sorta delicate. I’m not as tissue-papery as some people get, but I almost always have at least one mystery bruise or scrape b/c existing is hazardous. Most of scars are also pretty normal, unlike the extremely papery and atrophic scars (though I have a few tiny acne scars that are atrophic) that are common with other kinds of hEDS. Something that I DO have is Lots of Stretch Marks, all over my thighs, and even down to my calves. Which wouldn’t be abnormal, except for the fact that I’ve never been over 145 lbs and I’ve never been pregnant. Having a lot of stretch marks or striations in the skin without due cause happens because the structure of the skin isn’t as strong as it is in people with a normal amount of connective tissue.

I don’t have to worry as much about my skin but people that do are usually very careful with adhesives because they can irritate or tear the skin, which sucks when you need a lot of bandaids cause your darn skin won’t do its job.

Now on to the meatier stuff and since I’m mostly working backward let’s do Mobility Issues!! These can happen in loads of ways, but a lot of what causes these in people with EDS are the other two things I wanna talk about. Unstable joints lead to increased risk of injury when doing stuff people with fully functioning joints can do.

For context, I’m an ambulatory wheelchair user, meaning I can walk, but a lot of the time it’s better if use a chair. Mine is mostly for my POTS symptoms, but the fact that my legs aren’t also in absolute agony is a big plus. I use a custom manual wheelchair with a SmartDrive (b/c I’m very fucking fortunate and have good insurance) whenever I leave the house and have to be “walking” for more than a few minutes at a time. I can’t fully self-propel in a manual chair because it would be damaging to the joints in my arms and hands, but the smaller chair is easier to maneuver in less than accessible spaces (like almost everywhere). There was about a month-long span where I used a very cheap and very bulky electric chair while I was waiting on the ideal set up I have now. Before that, I also briefly used, and sometimes still use, an up-right posture cane.

People with EDS have widely varying mobility issues because of how uniquely it can manifest. My cane only gave me a little help with balance because if I used it in any prolonged capacity any pain it took away from my legs was relocated to my arms, and as an artist, my arms are more important to me!

If you’re going to write a character with EDS having mobility issues as a result of their EDS the best thing to do is to narrow down their specific needs. Are their knees complete and utter garbage but their shoulders and wrists strong? Maybe they can get away with using a cane. Can they not stand for longer than 5 minutes because of the vertigo from their POTS? Maybe they need a manual wheelchair. Would propelling themself damage their back and arm joints? An electric chair might be necessary! Plenty of people with EDS use all sorts of combinations of these aides to get around their life, consider how your character’s good and bad days would be. Do they have back up plans if they overestimate themselves? There can be a lot to manage, but don’t let it scare you off! Sometimes I try and make it into a resource management game (because I’m a game designer and that’s what I do), to make evaluating my energy and mobility needs more fun!

But now let's tackle some of the reasons those mobility aides might be needed. Unstable Joints.

Ever stepped wrong and rolled your ankle? It hurts for a few steps and then kinda fixes itself, or maybe it bothers you for the rest of the day and you put it up and ice it when you get home? When I was walking around outside my house that would happen AT LEAST once a month, usually more. Some times I’m sitting wrong and when I get up my knee isn’t a knee anymore and decides to just give out from under me. My knuckles are made of unruly popcorn and they Don’t Want To Stay Home!! Oh! And my shoulder is more often out a little out of its socket than it is fully in.

Unstable joints lead to Dislocations and Subluxations of varying intensity, and some people get them more frequently than others. Some can be severe enough to necessitate hospital visits and even surgery, some subluxations are so banal (like my fUCKING SHOULDER) that you just learn to live with the pain.

If a character is going to be in high action, combat-heavy scenarios, chances are they’re going to be popping out joints left and right. Hell, depending on the severity of their joint laxity they could be doing the same sitting at a desk. Again, it’s incredibly varied. I’d suggest setting some sort of baseline for yourself, of what a character’s joints can and can’t stand up to, and maybe do some research on which joints are most likely to pop out in general (hips and shoulders are big culprits being the wacky ball and socket motherfuckers they are). Then maybe have something pop out or hold up every so often when it shouldn’t cause hey! EDS is kinda just like that! Unpredictable!

Some ways people manage joint laxity is with braces, KT tape, and physical therapy. Braces come in many different forms, since I’m currently getting pretty much no treatment for my shitty joints I use mostly compression braces made for sporty people. It really is amazing how much a bit of tight fabric can do to keep my wrist in place.

More specialized braces often have solid parts to prevent the joints from hyper-extending (bending the wrong way) and causing further damage. If you ever see someone with what looks like diamond shaped rings around a bunch of their finger joints, chances are those are Ring Splints, and are there to keep the finger shaped like a finger. I want to get my hands on some and get some on my hands Very Badly, because my fingers hyper-extend SO MUCH when I type, and it makes my hand pain way way worse.

KT tape is another thing people often use. It’s stretchy tape you put on your skin and it basically functions kinda like a second ligament as well as reinforcing the joint and keeping the bones mostly where they’re supposed to be. The problem with this is a lot of people with EDS have very sensitive and fragile skin like I mentioned before, so KT tape can cause allergic reactions, chronic skin irritation, or just straight up take the skin with it when someone goes to remove it. Hence a lot of folks are really careful with it.

Physical Therapy is kinda the best (and only) treatment for joint laxity aside from Very Invasive and sometimes Highly Experimental surgery. It focuses on strengthening the muscles around the joints so they can do the work all those bone ropes made of body glue can’t. The problem is finding a physical therapist that 1) knows what EDS even is, 2) knows you have it, and 3) knows how to treat it without doing stuff that’ll Phucking Hurt You Worse!! Because exercising wrong with EDS can do Permanent Damage!!!

Again most folks use a combination of all of these things, or have next to no access to them b/c healthcare sucks.

Anyway, on to one of my favorite topics, Chronic Pain!! One of the reasons this post took me so long!!!

Chances are if your character has chronic pain as a result of their EDS there are gonna be some things they hate, including stairs, rain, thunderstorms, stairs, hills, uneven terrain, oh and did I mention stairs??? It’s going to vary person to person, but almost everyone I’ve met with pain from EDS has complained about their knees. For me the most debilitating pain is in my fingers and wrists. They’re by far my least stable joints but I use them constantly for stuff like drawing, typing, and sewing.

Because my joint pain is so wide spread, like most people’s with hEDS, it effects every single part of my day to day life. I can’t carry a heavy ceramic plate, open a bottle, or even use my computer without pain. It’s practically impossible for me to get comfortable in any position be it sitting or laying down, and as you can imagine that makes it hard to sleep a lot of the time. Moving too much hurts, but so does sitting still. I’m constantly taking braces on and off or cracking/stretching my joints so they pop back into place and hurt less.

Also being in pain makes everything else That Much Worse. I get tired way faster than I did before my pain was this bad (I had chronic pain for a while before actually realizing it wasn’t normal to not be able to walk down the block without feeling like your foot bones are trying to escape). My sensory issues and anxiety disorder are more easily aggravated because my base level of comfort is way worse. It fucks with my depression. And OH BOY does it make my ADHD worse because being in pain is fucking distracting as hell and makes it harder to make decisions and switch tasks. Also my ADHD often makes my other symptoms worse cause I forget to take my meds, don’t drink enough water, or can’t find my fucking braces because the item eating black-hole that comes with ADHD stole them. The intersection of mental and physical disabilities is probably a rant for another time though, so back to chronic pain.

Does it suck? Yes, undoubtedly. Is this incredibly debilitating? Of course it is, I spent the last several months unable to feed myself without assistance because there was a staircase between my room and the kitchen and I could only manage to climb it once a day. Is it overwhelming? Definitely, I’ve frequently broken down crying from a combination of pain and frustration because I’m having a bad day and there’s no relief to be found. Am I able to predict when it’s going to rain with uncanny accuracy because any change in barometric pressure makes me feel like every bone in my body is trying to kill it’s neighbors? You bet your fucking ass I am!! Does it sometimes make me irritable, angry, and occasionally dismissive of when abled people get cold or a temporary injury because the stuff they’re complaining about is my life every single day and all avenues of treatment and recovery I have could take years and still not entirely solve my issues? Yeah, and while I deserve a little extra patience I also have to be sure to check myself because I don’t want to turn into someone who’s nasty to be around. Do I sometimes need to sleep for 17 hours straight because it’s raining, I have migraine, and I’m in too much pain to be conscious? Yup, sometimes a few days in a row. Does living in constant pain mean I’m unable to do all the things I want to and does that sometimes make me wanna curl up in bed and never leave? Yeah, it happens.

But! And here’s the big important but, that’s not everything! I still write, draw, and talk to my friends!! It might take me a little longer but I get there. I’m still happy and excitable and make the time to write out five page long posts about EDS because it’s something I’m passionate about! My chronic pain doesn’t stop me. I refuse to let it. I never really wanted to go mountain climbing anyway, so I’m perfectly happy being able to make it up and down the six steps in my house, even if sometimes I have to sit and bump down them on my ass, or crawl up them like a cat. Chronic pain isn’t all I am. It isn’t a fate worse than death. It isn’t the only thing your character should talk about (though I do talk about my pain a lot cause I’m a complainer about almost everything). You can have your character be hindered by their pain, realistically they would be. You can have them seek comfort, support, and relief. Other characters can commiserate and be sympathetic, but it doesn’t mean their whole life is going to be one big pity party, that would be incredibly fucking boring. I know I’d be bored out of my mind.

All that said dealing with chronic pain, especially from EDS, is Complicated. Physical Therapy is the gold standard, but like I said before it can be a long and difficult process, and isn’t always accessible. Stabilization methods like I talked about before can help prevent pain, or reduce it by keeping bones mostly where they belong. Heat and cold help joints, relax muscles, and reduce inflammation but keeping them applied is rough and the relief doesn’t always last. Doctors prescribe anti-depressants, anti-anxiety, and sometimes even anti-epileptic medication to help manage pain, but everyone’s mileage with those varies. And I’m not at all qualified to talk in-depth about narcotics or other heavy duty pain-meds, but suffice to say the war on drugs fucked shit up for people that legit need that kind of help BIG TIME.

Now for my closer/bonus rant about EDS and Disability Writing in General!

Everyone always says write what you know, so if you really want to do disabled people justice, get to know disabled people! Make friends with disabled people, get involved with advocacy groups, consume content made by disabled creators both about disability and not! Disabilities are so fucking diverse, even EDS is such a complex disorder, and comes with so many potential co-morbidities, that practically everyone with it has a unique experience. There’s no way I can fully explain everything in a tumblr post. Hell, even if I could talk to you for hours probably couldn’t give you enough info to answer all your questions (especially since I’m still in diagnosis hell :,) ), so talk to a wide range of people with EDS and other disabilities!! I know it sounds like a lot of work but trust me, disabled people are some of the strongest, raddest, coolest, people you will ever meet that it won’t feel like it.

And don’t be afraid either, the fact that EDS and other disabilities are so wildly varied means that you have a little bit of wiggle room with your character’s experience. There’s so little disability rep out their I think people are WAY to scared to try their hand at writing it. So long as your character is a fully developed person in addition to being disabled, you give some logical thought as to how it would affect their life, and you don’t make their disability the butt of any joke it isn’t difficult to avoid ableist writing. PLEASE WRITE MORE DISABLED PEOPLE AND PEOPLE WITH CHRONIC PAIN/CHRONIC ILLNESS!!

Okay that’s it, again sorry it took so long for me to get back to you! My fingers were being little pests about it, and my ADHD (which is honestly more disabling than everything else a lot of the time lmao) was being an asshole! Hope this helps, and feel free to ask me more questions if you need clarification! It might take me a bit but I do love talking about this stuff.

#neela-chaan #ehlers danlos syndrome #EDS #hEDS #hypermobile ehlers danlos #disability #writing advice #disability writing #Chronic Pain #asks #SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG IM JUST SLOW #also i'm sorry the formatting is such a wreck #my adhd won't let me go back and fix it #and i've already spent way too much time

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angelnumber27 · 5 years

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Tell me your recently weirdest dream u had

So my dreams are very vivid and complex. I remember my dreams close to every night. I try to write down everything I can remember and study what I’ve dreamt of to see if I can make connections that tell me why my dreams are the way they are. I try my best to absorb the information and knowledge I gain from dreaming and listening to my subconscious and I try to apply my dreams and their messages to my waking life. For example, in my dreams (nightmares) I find myself very frequently running from something, being chased, trying to escape, knowing that if I am “caught”, something terrible is going to happen. This could reflect on many different things. It could be the fact that I have a bit of repressed trauma I’ve never acknowledged or healed from, it could be a subconscious manifestation of my fears and anxiety in real life, it could be my subconscious trying to tell me that there is something in my waking life that needs to be addressed directly and solved. Analyzing these dreams allows me to become more in-tune with myself and my mind, helps me recognize issues and things that are hindering my progress that I might not have had access to or been able to see otherwise, it raises self-awareness, it gives me a more accurate assessment of the self, helps me to see from different perspectives and realize that there is so much more than just surface consciousness. There is, within humans, a spectrum of consciousness. Some parts are just a lot easier to recognize, acknowledge, and understand than others. The consciousness you can see and have access to in waking life is just the tip of the iceberg, just a tiny fraction of the whole of who you are. Anyways.. last night I dreamt of communicating with, interacting with and inhabiting the same physical space as Adam. It’s a bit strange when he visits my dreams because he passed in October of last year. Adam and I were friends for a bit and then we clicked and dated for a while. To simplify things, I dreamt of my deceased ex boyfriend. He’s visited me a couple times in the dream realm. It’s strange and confusing but also beautiful and comforting because i know he’s watching over me, that he’s out there somewhere and I know these interactions are his soul visiting me in the best way it knows how. It was a semi-lucid dream, there were parts I recognized that I was sleeping and that this was a dream, I knew I was in my bed in my home next to my boyfriend. But during the dreams I have in which loved ones who have passed visit me, they appear in a way that is just like how any alive person would appear in a dream, so in the moment I do not recognize or realize that that person is no longer with me in waking life, it just feels like any other person from my past, until I wake. It’s always strange and a bit unsettling waking from these dreams and realizing that I’ve just come from initially communicating with and being “in the presence of” someone who is no longer alive on this planet, who no longer inhabits this plane of existence. I’ve been playfully theorizing a bit, nothing logical or rooted in scientific fact, just a product of imagination that came to be when I was thinking about this. What if when we pass, our soul lives on through and within the minds, hearts, and consciousness of those we loved or those who loved us? Jumping from dream to dream, leaving bits and pieces of memories and energies, remnants of the soul. I’m sorry this got so lengthy, I’ve been thinking a lot about this lately. Thank you for asking this! I always love sharing my dreams and hearing others dreams and, should they want me to, helping them analyze and understand them. Talking about or listening to others talk about dreaming-or on a more broad spectrum, consciousness- is an amazing thing to me. It is beautiful to be able to express the deepest parts of ourselves, parts we didn’t even know existed until they revealed themselves to us through the dream realm. It’s def not the “weirdest” dream I’ve ever had, but it was very recent, strange, and something I knew I could recall well enough to answer this. 🖤

#o-manko #not really weird but its fine #dreams #dreaming #adam #subconscious #subconscious mind #rem sleep #dream #my dreams #answered #ask #consciousness #spectrum of consciousness

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the-ravens-wings · 6 years

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i love you too

(this is something very self indulgent and written on a whim. jeanne is def ooc but W/E. it’s not like nasu will ever give us any character development.)

I was blackout tired. It had been one long, seemingly never ending day in the jungles around Eridu. I was aching all over, and my ears were still ringing from Merlin’s constant babble all day long. Who knew one wizard could be so irritating? Jeanne and I were sent to Babylonia alongside Ritsuka and Mashu considering the levity and importance of the mission. Our goals were nearly separate, and we almost never worked together, but Roman felt it would be appropriate for at least one singularity, especially the most important one.

Jeanne mostly kept her distance from the other servants around. There was too much baggage after Orleans, especially considering her welcome was less than thrilling. She wasn’t the Jeanne everyone knew and trusted, and that showed. Most servants preferred to ignore her existence, leaving her to fend for herself in most battles, but others would go so far as to purposely injure her when fighting alongside her. She wasn’t needed in this war, they would tell her. It always broke my heart to hear that. Therefore, I knew a deep seed of discord lied between her and the other servants, and that she would prefer to keep her distance to allow this mission to run as smoothly as possible. As her master, I was obliged to stay by her side. Not that I minded, of course. Her side is where I preferred to be. She was my only friend, especially after being thrust into this master’s role, and we spent a majority of our time together. One could say the fondness we had for each other was deeper than most.

I could usually tell when something was bothering her, but she seemed distant recently. She was quiet whenever we walked, and would respond to commands with a less than enthusiastic response. We usually blended so well together in battle, forming one tight unit. I wouldn’t be lying if I said I was scared she was slipping away from me. The “avenger” class is so fickle, and so lost in it’s own hatred that she could have easily killed me whenever she wanted. It was an extremely dangerous, yet essential love we had for each other.

Despite the exhaustion begging me to collapse onto the grass, I went to find my servant, no, my lover. I wasn’t quite sure where she was hiding, but she disappeared after we ate dinner. I assumed it was because the others began to socialize and that was too much for her. None of them would so much look in her direction when conversation began, and the servants we had with us would go out of their way to avoid engaging her in conversation. The more Merlin and Ana talked, the more visibly uncomfortable Jeanne became. She eventually got up and left quietly, without so much as a word to me. Pride, I assumed, would not let her show the hurt she had. I should have followed her sooner, but I could barely move from the spot I was sitting in.

Fortunately, she wasn’t too far away. I found her cooped up, alone, by a large tree. She appeared to be curled up into a ball, at least from what I could see. That worried me immediately.

“Jeanne?” I whispered into the dark, even though I was sure she could have already sensed me coming. She turned her head at the sound, but didn’t make a noise in response. All I could hear was the sound of the animals restless at night. “Um… I’m really sorry about all of that... I should have gotten up sooner…” My voice trailed off. I was terribly unsure of myself still, and it felt like everything I said and did for her was a mistake. She was so complex and beautiful, delicate and fragile all at once. “You’re babbling again, Master… Didn’t I tell you you talk more than you think?” I swore I saw a small smile grace her features. “I’m sorry… It’s been such a long day.” I flopped down beside her. I was unable to stand up any longer. “I know, Master. I’m surprised you made it all the way over here to me without collapsing.” “Give me some credit, I’m not TOTALLY weak. Just… mostly.” I laughed, but she didn’t respond. Was there something rigid in her voice or was I imagining things? She didn’t seem to move from her tightly held position either. She seemed to be staring into space… “Anyway, Jeanne. I was worried about you…” I began, but she tensed up when I said it. “Why?” It was such a quick response I was shocked by how curt it was. What do you mean “why?” I love you! Of course I was worried! “B-Because… you know… we work together and…” I was shaken, and tried to get my thoughts together, but they just stumbled out of my mouth. “I’m fine! Absolutely, totally fine! Nothing to worry about!” She turned her head sharply away from me. I had seen this response in her before, especially when we first started working together. Before we would fall asleep for the night, she would pull the covers tightly over her head and insist nothing was bothering her, that she wasn’t afraid to sleep, and that I should just stay where I was. Whenever she dreamt though, I did too, and I knew the truth. Her tough facade had so many cracks, but I also knew she kept it up to try and keep me “safe” from whatever she was hiding. “Jeanne… I know that isn’t true…” The tone of my voice dropped to more of a gentle whisper. The urge to pull her into my arms and never let go was overwhelming. I’ve never wanted to protect someone more in my life than I did in this instant. She sighed hard, but her arms relaxed just a little bit. I would have to slowly chink away at whatever was bothering her. “I’m just tired, that’s all.” She tried to control the wavering in her voice, and failed miserably at it. That was more than enough reason for me to move my unwilling body closer to hers. “You know you don’t have to lie to me… not ever.” I whispered again, gently brushing some dirt away from her armor. “You’ve been through enough, Master. You don’t need me burdening you more. I am your servant, and I take care of myself to make sure you don’t have to worry.” She wouldn’t look at me, so I turned her face towards me as much as she would allow. Her eyes were still focused on the floor, but they were more in my direction now. “Are you worried you’re going to bother me…?” She seemed so shocked by my response, and looked at me like I was some sort of imbecile. “Of course I’m WORRIED! What sort of servant would I be if I j-j-j-j-j-just projected all my problems onto you! If I just decided you were the one who needed to take care of me and all of my suffering and hurt! This war would never end!” She was focused intensely on me now, and I knew she was staring at the deep bags under my eyes. Those flames in her eyes were burning bright, but bright for a different reason than normal. “You don’t have to push me away… your problems ARE my problems, just as my problems are yours. That’s what it means to be master and servant… and more importantly, to be lovers, right?” Words weren’t going to fix everything, I knew that, but what else could I say? “What do you know?! How can you EVER understand what it’s like to protect the one person in your life that matters?! Especially when we’re surrounded with danger and are facing the end of the world?! Why does the world have to end right when I’M happy?!” I couldn’t quite make out the expression she was making, but her eyes clouded up with more hatred than I had ever seen her have before. The harsh coldness of her eyes could have frozen any hot, summer day over. But even I knew hurt was hiding just beneath the surface.I was taken back by her response, but she was right. I didn’t know what sort of stressors she was under, what sorts of burdens she was carrying, or why she was hiding it from me, but I understood that it was for me, and that it was my duty to make sure she didn’t burn out fantastically like a moth in a flame.

“You’re right… I don’t understand. I’m sorry.” She turned back to me harshly, and I was intensely worried I said the wrong thing. I felt like I was walking on eggshells, but what is a half baked, self righteous lecture going to do when someone is truly hurting? Easier said than done!

“Don’t... “ She seemed breathless, her face twisting into some cruel agony she didn’t want to face. “Don’t apologize to me! What do you have to apologize for?!” I saw her fists rapidly curling and uncurling into unnaturally tight balls, so I knew she was holding back. I knew so much of her wanted to kill me, right in that instant.

“I’m apologizing… for ignoring your needs considering how much you take care of mine.”

“My needs are irrelevant!”

“No they’re not!” I finally snapped back. “They’re not, Jeanne! You’re a person with feelings outside of whatever your stupid class affinity tells you and they have to be tended to too! You’re not just full of hate, Jeanne! I know you’re full of hurt and sadness and I want to help heal that!” I took a deep breath. Hot tears were stinging at the corners of my eyes, a bitter reminder of the frustrations this relationship was going to put me through, but I wasn’t deterred. She was worth every tear I could shed, every heartbreak I could bear, and so much more. “I want to help you… but only if you let me…”

“Master… I can-!” She held her hands close to her own body, squeezing them tightly. The pain in her eyes shone brighter than the flames that ignited her passions, and for a brief moment, I knew I was looking directly at the real Jeanne. MY Jeanne. I took her fidgeting hands away from her, and gently placed them around my throat.

“Would killing me here help…?” I asked earnestly. Even if it meant the end of us both, I was willing to give her just a brief moment of relief. Guess I was that stupid in love. I watched her focus on her hands around my throat, frustration and anger pooling up like hot puddle of mercury in her eyes.. She pulled them away, with a harsh yank, after what felt like an eternity.

“No… my hands were meant to destroy, Master… but you’re the one thing I can’t destroy!” There was a mixture of hurt and anger in her voice, as if destroying me in this moment would bring her a permanent solution to something she viewed as a temporary problem. She fought her own nature to brings those words to her lips.

“Jeanne…” I took her hands once again, but softer this time, into my own. She was shaking like a leaf, and I knew that facade of hers was crumbling and she hated it more than anything. I steadied her hands as best as I could, and pressed them gently to my cheeks.

“You’re safe with me, you have nothing to be afraid of anymore…” I whispered. A soft smile graced my lips, and while the tears still fell, they weren’t hot. A few stray tears fell gently onto her gauntlets and sparkled off them. We made this promise to each other so long ago, and it was still our mantra. Something that kept us both going, even when it looked like nothing would come to fruition.

“And you’re safe with me, Master…” She finally looked up at me, and I could see how weary her face was in the moonlight. She was fighting so hard for my sake, and I had been so ignorant of it. It was only right to repay her.

“You’re fighting so well, and so hard… no one deserves a break more than you.” I caressed each of her fingers, despite the roadblocks her gauntlets imposed.

“I… deserve a break…” She admitted, her eyes dropping to the ground, as if ashamed for running herself ragged.

“You deserve a break…” I said softly, and started to unlace the string holding her gauntlets tight to her hands. She stopped me quicky, holding my hand in place.

“Master… no… You don’t want to see those… please…” She had a pathetic, pleading look in her eyes. I had never seen this before.

“Jeanne… no matter what your hands look like, I know they’re beautiful…” I kept my eyes focused on hers, trying to be as brave and unwavering as I could be, as she returned my gaze. I gently pulled her other hand off of mine, and slid the loose gauntlet off her fingers one at a time. She looked scared, terrified this gauntlet held a world ending secret within it, and I wasn’t sure why.

“Master… please… no more…” I couldn’t bare to look Master in the eyes, let alone at those ugly things I call hands. I had memorized every scar, every scaly, uneven patch of skin, every intricate line left by those damned, cursed ropes on my wrists. Those hands… they should never hold hers the way she holds mine. They aren’t worthy of that.

“They’re beautiful… so unique and slender. I’ve never seen hands more gorgeous than yours.” I watched as Master eyed my hands like a fine piece of art hanging in a museum. So much of me didn’t want to believe she was sincere, but my heart, my STUPID heart, knew she was. I wished, even if just for a second, that that small part of me could ooze through and show Master the kindness she deserved. Why did I have to be so damn… hateful?

“...thank you, Master…” It was all I could manage to mumble, especially as she pressed her soft lips to each of my ugly, ragged digits. I don’t deserve this, I don’t deserve this, I don’t deserve this! That’s all I could think in that moment. But Master, in her seemingly ever wise ways, cupped my exposed hand in hers.

“I love you, Jeanne.” She smiled, with her tired eyes and sleep deprived face. God damnit…

“Master, I…” All I could do was throw myself on her, and hold her tightly. I gripped her clothes so hard I heard them rip in the back, but it was all I could do to make sure this wasn’t a dream. I didn’t want this moment to end, and I was afraid that the moment I would let go, Master would drift away and I would wake up again, in my bedroom on the battlefront, waiting to be burned at the stake.

“It’s alright, Jeanne… everything is going to be OK.” She held me so gently, but her hands, her body up against mine, was so warm. For once, I was happy feeling like I was on fire. Perhaps hell wouldn’t be so bad if I could hold this warmth in my heart when I get there.

Every gentle touch, every soft breath on my neck, soothed my aching body back down to reality. I wasn’t drifting alone in the abyss anymore, I had someone to keep me anchored to this stupid world destined for destruction.

“Master, I wi-” But my words were silenced with a gentle kiss. A kiss, a gesture of affection I never thought I would know or understand. It’s the only thing in the world that ever made me melt.

“Yes, Jeanne…?” She looked at me with such tender and loving eyes.

“Master, I… I love you too.”

#fgo #jalter #jeanne alter #fanfiction

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tinderthecity · 6 years

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The Mountaineer

I’m not sure if this blog is a catalog of my dating escapades over the years or a catalog of the most influential dating apps as time goes by, but I guess one thing stays the same, dating apps and I are perpetually on this journey together! (slow clap).

This time, Hinge is the app of choice. A little background information on Hinge, for those of your lucky enough to be unfamiliar with dating app particulars, this one has you provide six pictures as well as the answers to three questions of your choosing from a pool of questions the app provides. You are then asked your age, height, area you live in, and you can also provide some more particulars like school, religious affiliation, if you drink, smoke cigs or pot, do drugs, have children, want children, etc.

Relevant side note: Recently a coworker of mine sent me a link to an article with her subtitle “your kinda guy.” The article was titled “I am a Pacific Northwest Man on Tinder and I will Die if I Go Indoors.” It’s hysterical and exposing the great outdoorsman facade that can become all too trendy on dating apps.

From the article:

“‘Being inside’ is for the weak, the tired, the cold, the hungry, the ‘people with homes,’ the ‘quaints.’ I’m not interested in those who cozy up with Netflix or enjoy going to restaurants or movies. Everything you could possibly need to survive, thrive, and entertain yourself exists in The Great Outdoors. You like sitting down on a comfortable couch? Gross. You like buying groceries in a store? Disgusting. If I am not constantly in some situation under the sun where my life is potentially in danger, I’m not about it. I get off on adrenaline. And nature.”

“My first three profile pics are from epic outdoor activities which showcase a level of fitness you couldn’t even begin to rival. The next three pics are of the exact same thing. The next one is a total thirst trap, which means something different when you’re just dehydrated all the time. The last photo is of a mountain that really gets me fired the fuck up. My face is blurry in each shot because I am Always. In. Motion.”

Lol you get the point (check out the full article for more linked at the bottom, it’s worth it). I died of laughter while also feeling entirely seen. I’m not a dating app girl who falls for the models or the guys on yachts who dress like fancy businessmen or have tons of photos at rooftop bars or are listed as working high-profile jobs. Ask any of my close friends and they’ll tell you that my thirst traps are the guys who seem down to earth (literally) and like to spend time outside, traveling, hiking, etc.

It was after reading this article that I was able to put my last date into context as to why I was so excited and why it was so terribly bad.

The Mountaineer liked me on Hinge and I immediately thought he was pretty cute, loved his answer to the question “I’m looking for....” “Someone who is upfront and honest about what they are thinking and feeling,” (swoon) and his pictures, which, you guessed it.. were all outdoors.

Unfortunately, he lived in Long Island and liked me about a week before Christmas, when I would be going home for about a 10 day span, and afterward he would be gone for a long weekend. We decided we would just chat in the meantime, so we did, everyday. We talked about all sorts of things, but tbh he did talk/ask a lot about hiking haha.

When we could finally meet up after almost three weeks of talking, we decided he would come into the city on a Saturday and we could hit a museum and grab dinner. I chose the Natural History Museum for us to check out because he hadn’t been yet and I know it never disappoints.

The day before our date, the Mountaineer asked me if I’ll be meeting him at his train station. I live in the 150s, the museum is on 79th and his train would be pulling him into 34th. I told him we could meet at the museum since it’s in the middle. He said he didn’t like taking subways alone (interesting, Mr. Adventure) so he would walk from 34th to 79th (about a 45 min walk). Then he realized it was going to rain on Saturday and said he would walk in the rain, to which I told him (trying to be an accommodating Manhattanite) I could just meet him at 34th and take the train with him up to the museum if that’s the case.

The day of comes, it’s a bit rainy outside, as expected, and I get a text from the Mountaineer asking if we should move our date because of the rain (..really?). I basically said no but it’s up to you.

We decide to meet, I go down to 34th street to meet him. I’m running a few minutes late and of course those are the days when train delays hit.

Me: hey I’m on the express but I’m hitting some delays, 😑I’m going to be a little late, sorryyyy

Him: tsk tsk I’m quite disappointed already 😔

Me: 🙃🙃🙃

Him: Oh that’s cute, you think I’m joking

*wow, bold double dig move for not having met yet*

Me: I can just switch to the uptown train at the next stop if you’d rather

Him: haha I’m just messing with you. Would you really?

😇

We meet, he’s def not exactly what I pictured, maybe the 3 inch height difference than he listed had something to do about it or maybe it’s the ten minute first impression of salty remarks that he lead with... He refuses to take the train and has us walk 40 blocks up to the museum in the rain. I quickly realize that the museum and dinner plans we have might be a big mistake.

Once his saltiness simmers down our conversation gets better, and I thought maybe this will actually be a good time.

We get to the museum, and the lines are INSANE, so we decide we’ll go to another one. I give two options that are close by and ask which he’d prefer. I told him I’ve been to both and don’t have a preference to which he says “typical girl not wanting to make a choice” (wow, okay ew) to which I say “that’s actually not true, I chose the first museum..”

He decides on one across the park meaning another 20+ minute walk in the rain. He hops over a half wall into the park and I (not being in the parkour mood) decide I will walk to the entrance pathway about 100 feet away. He pokes fun at me and tells me to have a sense of adventure. I point out that he is wearing outdoor gear head to foot (yes, that is what he wore) and I’m wearing normal not weather proof clothing, not ideal to be jumping into mud.

As we walk across the park he tells me a bit about himself. like how he doesn’t actually own any casual clothing aside from outdoor gear (okay..), he didn’t vote in the presidential election (a little red flag starts waving in the back of my mind), and he has kept eluding to trust issues of some sort by questioning my own honesty (red flag starts flapping harder).

He asks me a little about myself, and somehow we get on the topic of horrible dates we’ve been on. He doesn’t have much to say, but as this blog will tell you, I could go on for hours. I chose to share what I consider to still be my worst date to this day, last years Valentine’s Day post, Mr. Mindful (or as others know him, Touch-barrier). My biggest red flag of all was telling Mountaineer that story and having him respond with “Oh that’s it?” THAT’S IT!? The guy had a gender stereotype conspiracy theory complex, swore at me via text for turning him down, divulged his dating coaches advice and said he should have broken the touch barrier sooner with me, information I learned all within a 24 hour time span. And yet the Mountaineer was more stuck on my reluctance to say - no I never want to see you again - to that guy face to face on our date, because apparently that was Mountaineer’s touch point for accusing me of dishonesty.

We get to the museum (I know... we haven’t even started the actual date yet). Once inside walking around and looking at art, conversation starts to get normal again (aside from him saying that he likes contemporary art but this wasn’t quite what he meant). By the end of the museum I was like okay, I don’t hate this.

Then comes dinner.

We choose a Thai restaurant, again on the opposite side of the park. Yelp gives the location 4.5 stars but when we walk up to the door the grade sign says “grade pending” (not uncommon) and he immediately looks for another place to go because I guess that’s unacceptable. After a few minutes of standing in the cold and probably noticing my poorly disguised apathy for this problem he decides we can go there because, like I said, it’s rated well.

The hostess seats us immediately but we’re close to the door and the Mountaineer doesn’t like that so he asks for us to be moved away from the door. We are then seated right behind the hostess stand and as we sit he goes “wow really?” and proceeds to be visibly and audibly upset about it for at least 10 minutes. He rants to me about how going to a restaurant isn’t just about the food but about the experience and how this experience is bs. (Yes, this two dollar sign Thai restaurant we’re going to because we want a quick meal really isn’t hitting my high class needs). I tell him we could take ownership and ask to move but he says no and continues to pout. As we look at the menu I notice the Mountaineer, as a non vegetarian, keeps mentioning tofu dishes and I ask why. He then bestows all of his restaurant wisdom upon me and explains how he rarely eats meat, or even seafood, at restaurants because he doesn’t trust them (here we go with the trust again), and especially not Asian restaurants. He also let me know that if he ever does order a steak, he likes his steak well-done but he orders it medium-rare and has them send it back to the kitchen when it comes out to cook it longer, because if he asks for it well-done he’s certain they’ll give him a crappy piece of meat.

At this point I am on the verge of stabbing myself with the utensils in front of me but instead I order shrimp pad thai to spite him. He doesn’t ask me a single question at dinner and is less than kind to the serving staff (the reddest flag of the red flags), I ask questions to fill the painful void for myself and when he asks if I want to go to Patagonia with him to look at some more outdoor gear he wants for himself I tell him I need to head home to my pup.

I hugged him, I left, I haven’t spoken to him since and I couldn't be more grateful.

I will admit, I was a little upset when I left, partially because I had been excited about the Mountaineer for two weeks and felt bummed by my off point expectations, but even more so I was upset because I wasted almost an entire Saturday walking in the rain and listening to restaurant conspiracy theories when I could have been at home with my pup.

This date taught me (and hopefully you) two things: 1) You can be into Mountains without being be down to Earth 2) Never plan a multi-layered first date

Happy Love Day Everyone

(For a nice complimentary laugh, here’s the link to that brief article I mentioned earlier that was obviously written about Mountaineer and his brethren.)

https://www.mcsweeneys.net/articles/i-am-a-pacific-northwest-man-on-tinder-and-i-will-die-if-i-go-indoors

#online dating #dating #tinder #tinder and the city #love #romance #dating apps #relationships #tinder matches #hinge #bumble #valentines day

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queerlyglittering · 3 years

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I posted 10,844 times in 2021

60 posts created (1%)

10784 posts reblogged (99%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 179.7 posts.

I added 191 tags in 2021

#personal - 44 posts

#if i was queue i'd run from me or rip me open - 39 posts

#pretty dresses - 23 posts

#ignore me - 19 posts

#radical self love - 17 posts

#happy tag - 16 posts

#mine - 14 posts

#about eli - 9 posts

#about me - 5 posts

#asks - 5 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#though an actual plus size version of lara croft should def have longer shorts to prevent chafing & a motherfucking high-impact sports bra!!

My Top Posts in 2021

I just realized that it's been literally over a decade since we last got a good Disney Villain song - one where the villain was explicitly the villain and we knew that at the time of the song. It's literally been since Mother Gothel got "Mother Knows Best" and the reprise in Tangled, back in 2010. Because since then there have been mostly films where the villain was introduced as a potentially positive character and not revealed to be the villain until later in the film (e.g. Hans in Frozen, Ernesto de la Cruz in Coco), the villain is either more of an antihero (Maui in Moana) or is more of a momentary antagonist than an actual Big Bad (Tamatoa in Moana), the main Big Bad is more of like a Force of Nature (Te Ka in Moana, the elemental creatures in Frozen II) and doesn't get a song, or the film simply isn't a musical in the sense of characters singing the songs (Brave, Big Hero 6, Zootopia, Raya and the Last Dragon, etc). Part of this clearly has to do with Disney's trend toward more nuanced storytelling, with good and bad being less black and white; protagonists are more complex than simple fairytale pure-of-heart heroes, and antagonists are less evil individuals and more systems of belief or facets of nature. But COME ON! Everyone loves a good villain song!! Songs like Be Prepared, Poor Unfortunate Souls, Hellfire, and Friends on the Other Side are some of the best songs in Disney's history! They make everyone want to be the bad guy for just a few minutes! GIVE US MORE VILLAIN SONGS YOU COWARDS!!

17 notes • Posted 2021-07-20 05:06:19 GMT

Am I the only one for whom Duolingo just.... doesn't work? It doesn't teach language in a way that makes sense to my brain. I don't want to learn the grammar piecemeal. I want to learn how to conjugate verbs based on pronouns and verb type, not one conjugation for one verb/pronoun pair in this lesson and a completely unrelated set in the next. Maybe I'm the oddball here but I actually do learn better in a classroom format, with conjugation charts and vocabulary lists, starting off like you're in preschool all over again and learning how to count and how to pronounce the alphabet and the names of the colors and days of the week. Duolingo has most of that, but at least in the beginning lessons I've tried, it's all scrambled and almost at random. I just find it incredibly frustrating when I'm trying to learn how to say I/you/he or she/they drink water, and I'm given only one of those pronouns, one conjugation, and no information on how to extrapolate that grammar to say more things. Learning a language one sentence at a time is mind-bogglingly tedious to me.

17 notes • Posted 2021-06-29 19:31:40 GMT

Does anyone else have the ability to just sort of... petrify? Like in the moment, you can feel yourself getting over emotional, or you can feel a panic attack coming on for no apparent reason, and you just sort of shut everything down and detach, until all the emotions stop and you stop crying? And then you're just left there, somewhere between normal emotional baseline and numb, wiping tears from your face that you no longer feel the cause of, and subconsciously you know you'll have to feel it later when it's even less convenient but in the moment you just shut yourself up and turn into a little unfeeling statue?

Like, is that dissociation?? Is that a sign of an abusive childhood and being punished for having emotions so you learn to regulate them in an unhealthy way? Or is that just me?? 🤷🏼‍♀️

21 notes • Posted 2021-08-02 22:33:22 GMT

Ok wait, is the reason I like this man

because he's basically the live action version of THIS man?!

62 notes • Posted 2021-07-05 17:47:22 GMT

Fuck cottagecore, I want 80s fantasy film core. The sky is a strange hazy amber color, the foliage is purple, and everything is covered in an obscene amount of glitter. There are muppets and/or Hensonian creatures everywhere. Tim Curry is probably there. Everyone is dressed like they're going to a renaissance festival. There are wild chickens running around underfoot. I am the town bookseller, which basically means my shop is filled to the brim with dusty, leatherbound books that I will either sell or potentially give away to you, if you express sufficient interest in them. You read these books and then have magical coming-of-age adventures and save the world. You try to bring the books back later but I tell you to keep them. There are unicorns and fairies and goblins and giants and other feral magical creatures without names who want to eat you. Be safe out there.

108 notes • Posted 2021-08-12 07:08:43 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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segenassefa · 3 years

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10: Musical Discourse: Slime Language 2

Young Thug’s new project, Slime Language 2, is almost reminiscent of Pi’erre Bourne’s TLOP4, except more features (Thug got all these niggas in the studio and told them “We’re doing this now or never”), including ex-girlfriend and entrepreneur Karlae, Jim Jones, Drake, Travis Scott, and Coi Leray. There is a heavy YSL l influence (obviously) as well as some OVO features (hey Drake, hey Nav!), Coi Leray (no comment), and even a Rowdy Rebel feature, fresh from the pen. This project does a good job at touching different extremes of the rap music spectrum – Thug manages to get some songs for the ladies (“I Like”, which, to me, is very reminiscent of the City Girls, “On the Low”, and “Trance”), typical athlete walk-out music, and some songs that follow that “no one ever believed in me/everyone leaves me” kinda vibe.

If we’re gonna keep it 100, the album in itself is not necessarily a stand-out – very few songs have that “wow” factor - and to be honest - it’s mid, as the kids would call it. BUT, in the spirit of neutrality, I’ll be breaking down my favourites, as a self-proclaimed know most and trap music enthusiast, especially since today marks the one-month anniversary of its release - and if you disagree, suck ya mum (JK….kinda.)

“Take It to Trial” – Young Thug, YSL, Gunna, Yak Gotti

This track is probably one of the best on the album, and not just because the Yak Gotti feature ties it all together, but for the overall cohesiveness of everyone on the track, which almost makes it sound like one person entirely throughout. Take It to Trial was one of the tracks on the album that was released before the drop of SL2, giving it some time to marinate before the drop of the project in its entirety. While the beat is nothing too crazy, it’s still a standout due to the lyricism of the track and the abnormally high pitch Thug manages to hit on the chorus, as he adamantly requests to take this shit to mf’in trial.

I don’t know if the herpes bar making me think of NBA YoungBoy makes me a bad person, but I guess only time will tell.

“I Like” – YSL, Karlae, Coi Leray

Now, listen. I am not going to lie and say that I support all women. Somewhere in my heart, I know Coi Leray got to where she is due to a combination of light skin privilege (insert noises of disgust), some form of nepotism, her marketability, and her longstanding time in the industry (she was, in fact, one of the Mindless Behaviour video girls, so that in itself should tell you how long she’s secretly been in the game. She’s almost like a slightly darker Alexa Demie, except she isn’t lying about her age).

But this song???

THIS MF SONG?

There has to be crack in it. Because it’s not that good - the beat is not one which you run back for its complexity, nor its lyricism, but DAMN, it’s a good ass song.

Both she and Karlae captured the effortless sexy feeling certain songs are supposed to give you (fellas, not sure if you’ve ever felt it, but I feel like the laydeez know what I mean). It’s giving very much Uber Black on the freeway in an amazing outfit, drunk out of your mind - and I’m here for it! While I do feel like Karlae can rap circles around Coi, if given the opportunity, I think one thing I can say is that Coi does have the unabashed confidence of a man in her same position and that in itself makes this song *that* much more powerful.

“Mil in Vegas” – YSL, Young Thug, NAV

When I’m old and in my nursing home of choice (Astagfurallah, but you never know), I hope Young Thug drops a purely R&B album; something like Hndrxx but a lil’ less suicidal.

Or that the nursing home has enough money to hire him for a mid-afternoon senior citizen concert, but let’s tackle one problem at a time.

This track is almost like the niggas’ version of “I Like” but instead of boo boo Mizz Leray, we get a melodic NAV feature. In addition to my appreciation of him realizing he needs to stop using the fucking n-word (he shouldn’t have been using it in the first place, but progress is better than perfection), I think there’s something to be said with rap songs that are done outside of the major key; it def adds a little pinash, and some depth that wouldn’t have been there before – and NAV’s voice is suited perfectly for these otherwise challenging scales.

The only other thing going for this song is the way Thug looks in that yellow turtleneck on the Spotify visualizer – and with that being said, I hope niggas will be rocking more bright colors in the seasons to come.

(Also, what the fuck is NAV’s obsession with Los Angeles? I swear there’s at least one bar in every song).

“Slatty” – YSL, Young Thug, Gunna, Lil Duke, Yak Gotti

Mark my motherfucking words - when we have in-person sporting events, I will bet my Large Telfar bag that at least one draftee has this song as their walk-out music.

This track incorporates the one word that every nigga in YSL records (and current rap culture) has heat-stamped in their vocabulary, and while the word “slat” has been massacred by hordes of white teenage boys on TikTok, I will say that this chorus is catchy as fuck.

The real star of this song (shockingly) is the juxtaposition of Yak Gotti’s gritty, emory-board vocal cords, the raspy voice of Lil Duke, and the familiar buttery sound of Thug’s vocals.

Why the visualizer has P. Diddy in it, God only knows. But our adeer is doing his thing in those big ass Versace shades, so who am I to say anything.

“Diamonds Dancing” – YSL, Young Thug, Travis Scott, Gunna

I have no commentary other than asking rappers to please stop using Dr. King for any of their metaphors – he cheated on Correta with a white woman (and only one that we KNOW of, for that matter).

So, I stand here humbly before you, petitioning for the alternative bars including:

“Dripped in Dolce & Gabanna / Black diamonds like Thomas Sankara”

“New girl like Lori Harvey / chain Black like Africa, Marcus Garvey”

or something along those lines. Even a Sojourner Truth bar, at this fucking point.

“Solid” – YSL, Young Thug, Gunna, Drake

Of course, OF FUCKING COURSE, this track was saved by none other than the culture vulture himself - the man, the myth, and apparently now, the fucking candlemaker, Mr. Aubrey Drake Graham.

(Sidenote: Why is graham such a hard word to spell?).

I know y’all niggas heard - and felt - him very clearly when he said he needed some head and some moral support right away (not like y’all are gonna get any, but understandable if you felt it).

Something about the subtle use of steel pan, and mafioso type beat that the OVO clan has such an affinity for, really brings this hoe all the way together.

Another interesting point to note – and why I think Thug and Gunna make such an incomparable duo - is the fact that Thug and Gunna could almost pass for one another on the second verse, and even in the chorus. The only distinctive giveaway in this is the fact that Gunna does not make use of the whimsical bars in the same way that Thug does (because who the fuck is putting macaroni and cheese in their pockets besides the man who made a whole Instagram live about having a dirty dick? Exactly.)

Surprisingly though, this is one of the only songs on the album that hasn’t drilled holes in my eardrums, even after listening to it for an entire month, so bravo on them for that.

“Proud of You” – YSL, Young Thug, Lil Uzi Vert, Yung Kayo

I’m going to use this song to expose my corniness in saying I’ve definitely thought of using this song for some Instagram captions.

I think the combined genius of Thug and Uzi is often overlooked due to everyone wanting to worship Uzi with the androgynous Vampire Ma- I mean, Carti (who also makes a great duo with Uzi in his own right, but Uzi and Thug just remind me of two eccentric uncles, minus a few decades).

It was also rumored in 2018 that these niggas had over fifteen hundred songs together and I honestly wouldn’t it put it past them for that to be true.

Will they all be hits? Probably not, but it’s nice to be a dreamer – plus, their previous tracks (What’s the Move, It’s A Slime and Strawberry Peels) can’t be disregarded either.

“Really Be Slime” – YSL, Young Thug, FN DaDealer, YNW Melly, Bslime

In my honest opinion, I think YNW Melly (and TayK!) should have been pardoned from jail way before Reptar (Kodak) or the other gremlin, Mr. Weezy F Baby – not doubting this artistry, but I do think this man requires a serious rest; musically, emotionally, and physically).

This nigga Melly bodies every feature and brings such mischievous energy to every single track. Also, the minute the rhymed “butter pecan” and “Puerto Rican”, he was fr a genius in my high school eyes.

You can’t deny that the other niggas on the track, even Young Thug himself, fall a little short and that FN DaDealer is trying a bit hard to give us Lil Baby teas, but for what it is, it’s not a bad song. The beat, again, nothing too impressive, but I’m honestly just so glad to hear a YNW Melly feature after what feels like forever.

And that about wraps it up – overall, I’d give this project a solid 5/10. It could have done a bit more; and for the number of features (as well as their duality), honestly could have been more experimental. I get that this was highly anticipated, but in that case, I’m sure niggas wouldn’t have minded waiting a bit longer for it to go the extra mile.

If you feel like I missed any important tracks, that’s too damn bad; but feel free to argue with me in the comments of Instagram.

Until then…*turns on “I Like”*.

#cashmoneysegs #slime #language #2 #young #thug #rap #hiphop #blog post 10 #cm$

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ificouldflytotheclouds · 6 years

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5 Seconds of Summer Self Titled Album Song Ranking (target edition)

I wrote this almost 2 weeks ago but I pushed it because of Youngblood’s release but so I don’t forget to post it, here is my ranking of 5sos debut album 5 Seconds of Summer.

Like SGFG I will be shuffling the album

Before I even start I will say I feel like this ranking is going to be shorter than the last. I find it funny because this is the album I was so excited for when I was deep into 5sos, but I resonate with sgfg so much more even though I only properly listened to it recently bf I completely fell back in love with these idiots (that one of the perks of stepping back/not always being in the know, also there's more content to catch up on)

**I do not include the older songs in the ranking such as heartbreak girl because I don’t view them as part of this collective and I think they would outperform the “newer songs” that were released with this album.

Kiss Me Kiss Me

A good song to begin this review. It is one of those songs where you want to run away with your lover, young, wild, and free.

Ranking: 1 of 1

End Up Here

Sigh. Lol, this album is going to be more difficult to rank because I feel like more songs sound similar. This song surprises me because of Michael's yelling/singing during the chorus. It’s not something I would typically be into but ugh it is such a feel-good song. Is it just me or do you envision the girl as older? I gravitate more to 'Kiss Me Kiss Me,' partially because it’s at the beginning of the album ( I tend to skip the first 3 singles bc overplayed) but I think End Up Here is the better song.

Ranking: 1 of 2

Beside You

It’s a cute song. COnsidering this was one of their earliest songs I think this speaks volumes of how far they would come. It’s simple but you can invision it. THe singer and their partner sleeping worlds apart thinking about each other. *Creates a music video in my head when ever I hear this song*

Long Way Home

This song has been on my mind a lot recently so I think it deserves to get a higher ranking. It’s about taking in the moment and just more time with the people you love. It was memorable as I ended up my days at college.

Ranking: 1 of 3 over End Up Here

Heartbreak Girl

This is potentially the first 5sos song I heard (well actually I think I heard one of luke’s covers first, but that wasn’t really 5sos, and not an original song). Compared to Beside You I perfer this song. The feeling of this song is more complex, she appreciates everything he does for her but she doesn't see that he wants to be with her, but he still hopes the best for her. If I am not mistaken some people don’t like this song because it sounds like he wants to break them up, but I don’t think that’s the point. Like just because someone is taken or doesn’t like you doesn’t mean you can’t find them attractive or want to be with them. It’s different if you are ACTING upon that feeling and actually try to sabotage that relationship. This song is an honest song about desire and is also mature in that fact that in the end all he really want for her is the best, and that’s true love for you ladies and gentes

Amnesia

I know this was a single but this is one of 5sos’ best songs, ever, there's a reason Don’t Stop was dropped long ago but they still play Amnesia in concert. I know, at least for the US, Amnesia did really well for a follow up single. It was played on the radio for months, sadly no one needs to know that SGFG singles didn’t do as well (I think youngblood will be the middle ground because the singles are doing well they got their second number one in australia on a song that wasnt even going to be a single, I’m still not over it, they’re 3 weeks strong. And based on promo and how they’re talking about the album I really believe that this will be their best album yet and I have a feeling it’ll do well on the charts).

I think Amnesia did so well because it’s one of those songs that many people can relate to, while it is focused on a breakup I think it can easily be related to other forms of loss such as losing a friend or someone moving away, missing the better times…

Ranking: 1 of 4 over Long Way Home

Independence Day

While I feel like this song stands out compared to some of the other songs such as long way home, everything I didn’t say, and end up here… which all sound similar to one another. This song isn’t a winner for me. Never has been. I don’t dislike, I am listening for a spark but Independence Day just doesn’t do it for me.

Ranking: 5 of 5

Out of My Limit

Shoot I forgot this song was on here too. Lol. I am not going to rank this to the album as a whole either. Lyrically it’s more exciting than beside you but right at this moment, sonically it’s not doing much for me (I love this song, something tells me that it’s recently been overplayed)

Mrs. All American

“That mini van that you drive really gets me going” Lol. Luke sounds good in the prechorus but I just can’t with this song. I never really cared for this song, honestly it makes me cringe a bit (like I can bop to it at time, but I will typically skip it).

I prefer english love affair.

Ranking: 6 of 6

Tomorrow Never Dies

I always think of the Transformers Soundtrack, specifically New Divide by Linkin Park (ps. The score is a nice listen while you need to focus and need be quick in your action). This song deseves to be in an action movie.

In a recent interview (ash london australia) the boys were asked to describe their new album with songs from their old album (a brillian question btw) and ashton said Tomorrow Never Dies which I find very interesting, if I am not mistaken, this will connect to the hiphop element that will be in their album which has be like??? But it’s nice to hear them talk about this song because it doesn’t get enough love.

I would thought that I would rank this song lower than long way home, but I actually think it’ll be higher because this song stands out on the album.

Ranking: 2 of 7 over Long Way Home

Good Girls

This song grew on me. I feel like you need to be in the right mood for this song. But I can relate to this song, and when I am feeling it, I find it very empowering. Growing up I would be labled as a good girl and a lot of people thought they knew me but it was like go away you don’t know me (I mean I’m not that rebellious but it’s still like stop putting me in a box and trying to flatten it, I’m not a one dimensional character)

Ranking: 6 of 8 over Independence Day

Don’t Stop

Ok this was defs a bop at one point but now I just always skip it. Lyrically its cringe worthy. And I wasn’t about superhero 5sos. Lol. Some weird is too weird for me. The other day I said it was the worse song on the album, but after listening to other songs, I disagree. Mrs. All American is worse. This as least has a nice beat to it.

Ranking: 8 of 9 over Mrs. All American

I’ve always liked 18, and it’s not just because it dropped when I was 18 it was just a nice coincidence. Sonically I enjoy it and lyrically there’s a story line to follow. It’s strangely a sad song about the things they don’t have and they sing about 18 equating it to freedom (but is it really??).

Ranking: 2 of 10 over Tomorrow Never Dies

Everything I didn’t say

Wow is this me in a song? I’ve defs written letters over the things I’ve never said (somewhich I’ve actually told to people #yikes). The rumination of everything that is lost, feeling like you could’ve said something to prevent it from happening, but it was already falling apart, you were always too late..

Listening to this after 18 should make it easier to decide if it goes before or after but nope.

Ranking: 2 of 11 over 18

Ummmmmm close as strangers came on but I’m going to skip that one and do it last.

She look’s so perfect

I always skip this song. Heartbreak girl might have been the first single I heard from them but this song really won me over. I remember being so excited for this song. I don’t remember when the song dropped but I remember the music video dropped last period and me and my friend couldn’t wait for the bell to ring to be able to watch it. While there are better songs that could replace this in concert this is a bop, you can’t deny it, this is when the crowd goes the hardest.

As I have mentioned in other ranking posts I hate ranking singles. Especially lead singles. They get extremely over played which I feel like can make people dislike the song, to some degree. I also don’t view lead singles as a collective piece to most albums (or at least since We are never ever getting back together lol).

Ranking: 8 of 12

Close as Stranger

*gets emo* Tell me why my fav 5sos’ songs are sad. But ughhh. Luckily I don’t think about the reality of this song when I listen to it, otherwise I think I would avoid it. BUt I can defs relate to this. I think most people can. It’s a strange feeling. Often times most people know it’s happening, and you want to stay friends but suddenly there’s no longer anything to say. YOu don’t even know why it’s happening but… (it’s awkward when it’s not mutual, that’s a whole other hot mess we're not going to talk about - actually this is probably what saves me from still enjoying the song because this is just a generally sad song but when it’s not mutual that can feel awkward or backstabbing)

Ranking: 1 of 13 over Amnesia

~~ Album Ranking ~~

Close as Strangers

Amnesia

Everything I didn’t say

Tomorrow Never Dies

Long Way Home

End Up Here

Kiss Me Kiss Me

She Looks So Perfect

Good Girls

Independence Day

Mrs. All American

Album Review/Ranking Masterlist

#shuffle started with she looks so perfect but that wasn't going to work lol #5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer debut album #5sos #ashton irwin #calum hood #michael clifford #luke hemmings #song ranking

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mobilemechanicvegas-blog · 4 years

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relationshipadviser-blog · 5 years

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These 'Cosmo' Relationship Tips Are Completely Insane Betches

New Post has been published on https://relationshipqia.com/must-see/these-cosmo-relationship-tips-are-completely-insane-betches/

These 'Cosmo' Relationship Tips Are Completely Insane Betches

Look guys, I don’t know what the f*ck is wrong with the writers at Cosmo. Are they on drugs? Have they never met people before? Are they all just f*cking with us for the fun of it? It’s hard to tell when they continue to give the worst advice ever. Their sex tips could get you arrested, make someone infertile, or at the very least, convince a guy you’re batshit crazy. But I guess they’re just super bored over there, because Cosmo does not know where to stop. In addition to wild sex tips, they also offer super solid relationship advice. Turn off Dr. Phil, here are the relationship tips you never knew you needed:

If He Thinks You’re Bad With Money, It Means He’s Going To Propose

“It’s that when he sees you buy that bag, he envisions you 20 years from now sneaking off to Vegas and blowing the kids’ college funds in an orgy of high-end boutique shopping and late-night keno. In a twisted way, his concern is kind of endearing, because it probably means he’s thinking about marrying you at some point.”

Or he’s pissed that you’re spending rent money on dumb shit and he has to pick up the slack? If he’s complaining that you’re bad with money, he def does not want to marry you. He’s probably thinking the exact opposite, like “Oh shit, if we’re married then it’s ‘our money’, and I will be f*cked.”

Proper Hygiene Means He’s Cheating

“He steps up the grooming. ‘This is so obvious, but it’s a sign many women miss: if your man starts grooming down there without you requesting it, that could be an indication that he’s spending more time naked,’ says Vranich. You can actually thank porn for this tipoff. Guys today are used to viewing manscaped dudes onscreen, so if he has another chick to impress with his sexual prowess, he may emulate those ultra-trimmed guys. Another clue: he’s spending more time at the gym.”

Is your boyfriend finally trimming his hair after you’ve bitched about it for three months? Is he showering regularly? Is his dirty laundry suddenly making it into the hamper? Has he finally decided to do something about his holiday weight? According to Cosmo, your bf is screwing his work wife and also thinks he’s a porn star. The only way to save this mess of a relationship is to dramatically accuse him of cheating with your ~evidence~. He’ll really appreciate it and vow to never do anything you ask again.

Don’t Tell Him If You Cheat

“Your mother may have told you that honesty is the best policy, but in this case, many experts advise keeping your mouth shut. ‘If it really was just one indiscretion, don’t tell him,’ says psychologist Marcella Bakur Weiner, PhD, author of Cheaters. ‘Although it might make you feel better, it will only hurt him and ruin the trust between you.’”

Ah, yes. The foundation of any healthy relationship, hiding your infidelity. You’re accusing him of cheating for changing his socks every day, but def don’t tell him that you actually cheated. Who needs therapy when Cosmo is there for you? Who is this f*cking expert and where did you get your PhD? The hurting him and the ruining of trust came from your f*cking someone else, not the telling part of it. And my degree is in animation. Congrats on your fairytale marriage!

Be An Asshole And Then Bribe Him

“Cut him in line at Starbucks like an a**hole but then pay for his latte like an angel. This way he knows you’re both assertive and rich. First he’ll be like, ‘I cannot believe this woman just cut me in line, I’m going to be so late!’ but then he’ll be like, ‘Wow she was actually doing a kind gesture, we should date and maybe get married.’”

Oh, where to begin with this one? First of all, I really like that being able to afford a prob $5 latte shows men that you are rich. Also, cutting someone in line in LA is a really good way to get stabbed because we don’t f*ck around here, especially pre-coffee. But like maybe after he stabs you, he’ll want to get married? Also, why is buying someone a latte (against their will, I might add) grounds for marriage? Cosmo, your standards suck.

Pretend You Know How To Read

“Ask him what book he’s reading and then say, ‘That one’s good, but her other work is much better,’ no matter what book it is.”

In the same advice article, Cosmo also wants you to look like a complete f*cking idiot. I’m not convinced any of these morons know how to read anything more complex than Cosmo. One Redditor was hoping the guy was reading Mein Kampf, which would be absolutely f*cking hilarious. It is so obnoxious when you can tell someone is lying about liking something to look cool and makes you look way dumber than just saying you haven’t read it and asking what it’s about. This is just like when I met my work crush’s girlfriend and I described my writing style by listing an author I drew inspiration from, and she told me he was her favorite author and then she couldn’t talk about it at all. It was soooo embarassing and also I loved it. Then she brought her vape out and asked me if I had cocaine. Needless to say, they broke up and I no longer was interested because I am not following up that trash person. Don’t f*cking do this.

So yeah, take any dating advice you read with a huge grain of salt. Otherwise, you might end up stabbed in a coffee shop or something. I love Cosmo as much as the next person, but this stuff is literally insane.

Images: Shutterstock;

Read more: https://www.betches.com

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axiomandidiom-blog · 7 years

Text

>the not-so-great attractor

I’ve been bad.

When I got a new shrink who wrote me a script for Vyvanse I was supposed to ask him to refill my other meds.

I did not do that.

I have not taken two of them in a while. Things are... losing their precious, precarious balance. I was unsatisfied with the balance. I guess I want to see if I’m satisfied with the imbalance. I’m also just tired of being a goddamn robot.

But that’s not what I want to talk about really. I want to talk about some gooey stuff. Well, I’ll get to the gooey stuff. I mean sex and other humans, mostly, though the “other humans” bit is a little presumptuous tbph.

One of the previous drugs I was on was an ssri and really destroyed my libido. That was okay, in some ways, and not okay in some other ways. It was okay because I wasn’t particularly focused on that which vexes all men (not the sea, not sums, not the dichotomy of good an evil, not even women, because there are plenty of dudes who don’t swing that way. I mean the essential and eternal war between a man and his own genitals). I am, or have been, somewhat whimsical in my ideas about attraction in other people. I used to say, and this was mostly true, that I could tell I was attracted to someone because when I thought about them later I imagined the scene with Def Leppard playing in the background. Mostly Photograph, but sometimes Rocket or Rock On.

That stopped happening sometime around 2010-2011. So did the other, more conventional markers of attraction, infatuation, whatever you want to call it. I never daydreamed about women, didn’t get crushes, didn’t give people a second glance when walking down the street. And not just that; I forgot what it was like to do and feel those things. I started looking at my peers and trying to figure out what was driving them (I mean, beyond the obvious. see: man’s war with genitals). I saw the outside evidence of people acting out mating rituals and the pursuit of sexual contact (chief subject: my roommate) and could no longer place myself in their shoes in order to try and understand what they were doing or going through.

This was pretty alienating, actually. I imagine it must be something like what an asexual individual experiences; and to some degree I considered myself a de facto asexual for a while. I just didn’t get it.

I’m explaining this like it was simple and that’s the error of narrative and I recognize that. But it wasn’t simple at all. At the time I had no idea of why this change had occurred. I had been on the ssri for like two years by the time I started experiencing this and I ruled it out as an explanation. I have only now come to believe the ssri was to blame because I stopped taking it and some of this stuff is starting to come back, slowly.

But it wasn’t simple because it was wrapped up in a bunch of other stuff. Like: my experience with my ex of so many years ago at this point. I felt like I had touched a hot pan and burned myself, and not only did I not want to touch the pan again and be more careful, or touch the pan again and fuck getting burned because the reward was so much better, or even I realize this is going to burn be but holy fuck I’m so lonely; but I didn’t want to ever touch any pans again, because that shit is stupid, that’s like breaking your leg after jumping off a bridge and getting right back up to jump, I’d rather just microwave my food. The microwave, in this illustration, is a metaphor for masturbation. In case that wasn’t clear. Also I’m still pretty sure being in a relationship is like jumping off a bridge. But more on that later.

I described it this way to two psych professionals, and got two widely different answers. One said “that’s dumb you’re being dumb” and the other said “I don’t think that’s irrational given your circumstances.” So, um, jury on that is still out.

Also I had gained a bunch of weight in the years since. And though I’m no longer a teenager I still have some seriously fucking terrible skin. Like, omg why can’t I just not have acne all the time what am I doing wrong (the answer: I haven’t spoken to a dermatologist in many years). Also, I’m generally pretty uncomfortable with affection and attention. My best explanation for that is that I think I’m horrible and I don’t want to infect other people with my horrible (see >poison).

I’m sort of a miserable specimen, then, in my estimation. And coiled up in that is a deeply held belief that some things are not for me. I will never have some things. That’s just the way of the universe: I will never be a supreme court justice. I will never be asian, middle eastern, or black. That’s okay. There are some other things that I probably won’t ever be, like out-of-my-mind rich or successful, or adventurous, or athletic, or fun at parties. And I’ve made the leap, perhaps appropriate and perhaps not appropriate, to some other stuff that makes people look at me weird when I tell them, like, I don’t think I’ll ever be married. I don’t think I’ll ever have kids, I don’t think I’ll ever be a homeowner, I don’t think I’ll live much longer than 50, if that. And some people want those things and have always wanted them and think I’m strange for not wanting them or believing that they are out of my reach. And I think they’re weird for not understanding (and why should they, I guess) that those aren’t a part of my life, and aren’t my desires or goals.

Or weren’t.

I still don’t think I’ll be a homeowner. I get that it’s an investment and blah blah blah it just doesn’t make sense to me, and I can’t imagine making enough money to actually pay for that.

I’m still pretty sure I’m gonna die before I get particularly old. Unless there’s some kind of super revolution in the kind of healthcare that I require, and I’m not holding my breath about that.

And I’m afraid of kids. I’m afraid of them for two reasons. One of which I will share here, the other of which I’m definitely too afraid to share, ever, with anyone, for any reason, which may or may not be the result of some things that happened to someone who may have been me. plausible deniability

I’m afraid of screwing kids up. And that’s a futile fear, because kids will be screwed up no matter what anyone does. But I’m really, really, constantly angry about the course of my life. I think sometimes there’s an alternate universe where there’s an axiom who’s a doctor of memetics, and who publishes papers about the dissemination and transformation in quanta of thought across networks of people (which I find incredibly interesting), and I know I will never be that person because nobody figured out what was wrong with me while there was still a chance to divert course.

Nobody figured out that I was hiding from everyone all the time. Can’t blame them for that, because I was good at it. But my nerves were too raw. I was so anxious and terrified of my world as a child that I walked around in a fog. It was a fog I put there to separate myself from my own experience. Events in my life taught me that I could hide in the fog, even when I couldn’t hide from what was happening to me in real time, and at least I’d be mentally protected, even if I wasn’t physically protected. And my whole life kind of grew up around the hiding. I have two older siblings and they got into lots of trouble as teenagers. That’s what teenagers are fucking supposed to be doing. But I knew that I could just not do those things I saw my siblings doing, because I saw the consequences of them, and in so doing avoid those consequences. Because I was fucking scared of that shit.

And nobody took me aside and put their hand on my shoulder and said “hey kid, go do bad things. The whole world is set up to try and prevent you from doing things they think are bad, and all of the systems of all the different organizations and hierarchies which you are a part of all want to keep you from doing those things, and that’s the most horrible, selfish thing a group of people can do to an individual, especially if that individual is young and doesn’t have the capacity to reject the group. I think many teenagers go through a time when they’re really shitty to people like their parents because they’re testing the boundaries of their world, and have come to realize that some of what other people have told them to do or not to do “for their own good” wasn’t for the teenager’s own good, it was for the good of the person giving the order.

And I never did that. I was very concerned with maintaining the appearance of being “good” because that meant that people left me alone. And I wanted to be left alone because existing under scrutiny was too horrible. I didn’t want people to see me, and I didn’t want people to know how not-together I was.

I still hide from people. I’m not sure how capable I am of connecting to other humans on an emotional level I am. None of my friendships are like that, even my really close friendships that have lasted for years.

It’s a dangerous thing to say to some kids that the world isn’t going to end if you spend a night in jail, or fail a class, or sneak out in the middle of the night to get stoned, or ask out a close friend and get rejected. But it was what someone should have said to me. Not because I wish I had done those things. But because I want to think I wouldn’t have been so afraid of everything if I had done some of it. I want to believe that I would be better able to make my own decisions now if I had actually experienced the consequences of behavior directly and not vicariously.

Some non-zero amount of bitching about my childhood is a result of a desire to be a different person. And I want to be a different person. That leads me to the other big thing I wish someone had noticed, or found out, or helped with.

And that’s ADHD. I would say I can’t believe I got all the way through school and fucking graduated with undiagnosed ADHD, except that it was so fucking unbelievably awful that I still feel horrible about the whole experience. I still regret it. I still can’t think of myself as having accomplished anything because it feels more like I survived years of torture than it feels like I worked and received recompense for that work. I think about being in school and I just want to cry. I’m so, so angry about it, and to know now that the difference between being able to function academically and being a hopeless, perpetual fuckup hemorrhaging money that didn’t exist was a once-daily pill makes me want to curl up and fucking die.

That’s a feeling that’s exacerbated by what I brought up in my previous post (>writing). I feel like I can’t write the way I used to. And yeah, duh, I’m writing now, and that’s not what I mean. I’m just shitting out thoughts as they come, I’m not composing anything, and I’m able to do that because I’m taking a drug that flips the lightswitch on the “pay attention lmao” part of my brain on for 13 hours at a time. And writing is one of the very few things about my life I feel like makes me worthwhile as a human. And by worthwhile I mean worth keeping around. And if I can’t do it the whole college experience, which I already conceive of a waste, was even more pointless than it was before. And that makes me feel pretty bad.

What was this post about?

Oh, right.

So I don’t like myself. I don’t think I’m a good person, or valuable. And I feel like those are some important factors when it comes to courtship. And I used to be on this drug that killed my libido, so I was okay with ignoring that. But now... I don’t know why this feels like an illicit admission (maybe because it’s so contrary to where my head has been at for so many years)... I kind of want it. The intimacy. Closeness. Sharing. That kind of stuff. Oh, and sex I guess. But I can do without that, and have for some time. I’m holding out for my ten-year anniversary, so I can write a book called “the ten year drought.” idk what that book would be about but it seems like a good title.

Some of this is a reaction to my newly switched-on brain, I think. Where before I’ve just been confronted by alienation when I thought about being close to other people, I dunno, it seems both possible and desirable now. And because none of my close friendships are built on any kind of emotional connection, I don’t have that in my life. And combined with my awakened libido, it seems like, well, why the hell shouldn’t I try and find that sort of connection with a romantic partner? And maybe it’s been so long that I don’t remember what it feels like to burn myself on the stove any more, and it seems like that might be fun, you know, to burn the fuck out of my hand now and again.

SPEAKING OF AWAKENED LIBIDOS, this is when I’m going to talk about the gooey stuff. I told you it was coming (ayy).

You might be forgiven for assuming that when I considered myself de facto asexual, that meant I abstained from self-manipulation. But no. Lord, no. Instead, it just became a chore.

Let my try and explain. Turning off the red neon sex light in my head didn’t stop the other physiological consequences of orgasm or lack thereof. For those readers who are not men, you may not be aware (or may not have put two-and-two together) that semen doesn’t just go nowhere if it doesn’t, uh, get used. There is, I think, some point (look I’m not a scientist) where after a while of infrequent emissions the little foreman down there in the prostate tells the factory workers at the testes to quit making so much product it’s not going anywhere, but fuck me if I know when that is. Because until that point it’s gotta go somewhere. It’s gotta go somewhere. If I were to cease, uh, disposing of it in a regular fashion, on my own schedule and terms, it would find its own damn way of releasing. Usually this happens during a dream of some kind. There are some problems with this:

1.) mess. You must now wash your sheets and bedclothes. Good job.

2.) disruption to sleep for the above reason. Sleep is important to me. More important before the stimulants, I guess, because I wake up 4-5 times a night anyway now.

3.) disturbing dreams. Sometimes they’re fun disturbing. Most of the time they aren’t. What amateur dream theory I understand is from my meager reading of Freud and that guy was full of shit about a lot of stuff, but this makes sense so I still believe it an will repeat it here: your id, aka the triforce of power, just wants release from tension. Which is not to say it doesn’t want tension. I wants the tension, and the release. Which, according to Freud, is why people have dreams about death; the lead up and then the death itself is the ultimate tension and release fantasy your brain can construct. And the penultimate tension/release is sex. Duh. But the id isn’t picky. Id doesn’t believe in rules or norms or values or anything like that. Id just wants its release. And, honestly, if whatever strange brew it cooks up in the dark recesses of your skull upset your conscious, rational mind (your ego, the triforce of courage), well, fine, cause that makes the tension (and thus the release) stronger, and because fuck your ego, id hates that guy.

4.) As actual, physical releases go (i.e. not psychological, as discussed above) this is a pretty garbage one. Look, not every orgasm is going to be good, But this one is fucking soaked in shame and disappointment. And fuck if I know if this is what it’s like for other people, but I get just a little lucid at the end of a wet dream. Like, there’s a QTE segment, where shit slows down, and I can let the sequence play out or I can press ‘a’ to try and prevent it from occurring. Hint: pressing a does not work. But I don’t know that when I’m fucking asleep. So I press ‘a’ like a fucking idiot and ruin my own shame-dream orgasm and end up with sticky sheets anyway. This is not fun. No part of this is fun.

Now, I think I’ve mentioned here before, I have problems with dreams anyway. Every few months (and I always think, well, surely this is the last time, I must now be free of them) I have a dream about my ex. And if I time this wrong, the dream gets weird and sexual. A dream about my ex is guaranteed to fuck up my day at least a little, and a sex dream about my ex is just throwing my whole week away. Thanks id, you little shit.

So, that’s a reason not to do things that way.

There are some others. For one, having an orgasm feels pretty good, at least if you do it right. And at various times in my life I’ve been starved of good feelings. That the orgasm is free and readily available (for the most part) is what leads it to being such an addictive drug. And afterwards, a man (I have somewhat independently verified this with others of my sex) has some beneficial psychological effects; it’s also a way to regulate your hormones, and relieve stress and anxiety. And let me get this in here, when a man does without orgasm, at least in my experience, reality warps to compensate. Like, suddenly, day 3+ of no orgasm, skirts get shorter. They just do. Suddenly women are tying back their hair, and their shirts just don’t cover anything anymore. And everybody is wearing leggings. And suddenly people are smiling at you and blushing and they smell good and their eyelashes are so damn long.

AND I HATE THIS PART. THE TENSION IS UNBEARABLE. It’s unbearable, maybe, because of what I’ve written above--that I have internalized the belief that some things are not for me. And maybe, actually I’m pretty sure, that this is why men chase women. Because, unless they are doing what I do, the whole damn world is fluttering eyelashes and jorts. And they can’t fucking think about anything else. Hence, the war. Because either you do something about it or life is a sex-crazed fever dream.

This is how I feel about desire. It feels like affliction. I know that’s messed up. I know I’m messed up.

And when I was taking that ssri, I wasn’t attracted to people, even when this happened. Skirts didn’t get shorter. Skin wasn’t suddenly everywhere. I just felt awful. It just felt like I was in the hallway in Inception and the van was turning over and over. It was like what eating is like now that I take a stimulant; you know you’re hungry because you’re being mean to everyone and everything everyone says to you feels like a personal slight. And so you go get some food because you need to eat and it just looks like dogshit and it smells like dogshit and you put it in your mouth and you chew and you’re mad about it and you feel like a fucking chimp in a tophat dancing for a vaudeville audience. It sucks. It’s not cool.

But back to what I was saying about regulating one’s orgasms. I know that if you are a woman, the rules and boundaries are different, but men have a limited number of orgasms available to them in a given time period. See the little foreman and the factory workers.

Given this I don’t think it’s unreasonable to conclude that frequent (this I will leave to the imagination), managed orgasms are good policy.

Good policy, as anyone familiar with governments will well understand, has a way of becoming bad practice when it intersects with the real world. And in this case, the reality of the situation is porn.

I’ll delve into this some other time but for now let it be said that porn is horrible. And It isn’t necessary, in the strictest sense. But I found it expedient in my former circumstances; i.e. perpetually single and with a poor libido. Masturbating, as I have said above, became a chore. As in, “well now it’s X:XX o’clock and I guess I should get down to business,” even while I was also thinking “I really don’t want to do this, this is gross, I am gross.”

And while in another person that might be enough to stop the whole process, not with me. I dunno why. Sue me. Typing it out makes it seem like it was something I could just choose not to do, and sometimes I did, but most of the time I didn’t.

Now, porn is a bottomless endeavor. I had a professor who I always thought was kind of a shithead talk about porn, for men at least, as being an expression of the fantasy that any woman is available to a man.

This is problematic for a bunch of reasons, but I didn’t invent the primate brain, I just have one, and it doesn’t really do what I want it to most of the time. Or like ever.

So one does not find a quantum of pornography and decide that, yep, that’s that, this is all I need. Again, we’re talking about that fucker id (and I think here there’s even less basis for Freud’s model of personality but fuck it I’m on a roll and also not particularly educated) and he doesn’t care about your rules. He just wants more. And again, id doesn’t want just the mere release, id wants tension before the release. Id wants the lead up as much as the actual orgasm, if not more (as they tend to inform each other; this is true as far as I can tell for both men and women but I’m not an expert). So the male experience of pornography (this I have also somewhat independently verified) is one of seeking and evaluating. This is, as far as I can tell, what tabbed browsing was invented for. One looks, and looks, and looks (it is about 90% visual) for something that has that certain spark to it. There is no describing the spark. Whatever you have found either suits or it doesn’t. I’m sure if Freud were here with me he’d have something to say about what people look for and why but that guy is fucking dead so fuck him. There is a great deal of quite automatic selection that goes on.

Yes, after the fact, one may find and describe patterns to the searching. Without descending too far into the vulgar universe of pornography and its associated vernacular, I’ll try and give some examples. I am attracted to faces that have robust lower lips, dark hair, and perhaps a gap in the teeth. I don’t know why. I just do. It’s just what I like. Those are things I think are fairly specific to me; I know my friends like other things in their faces.

And now that I’ve found some nice video of a dark-haired, gap-toothed, robust-lipped girl folding her laundry and pairing her socks, I’m good right? Wrong. Depending on the strength of the suitability of this video, it might remain useful (i.e. functional i.e. qualified for release) for like three or four uses, and then one day I’ll look at it and the evaluative bit of my id will say “nope lol” and I’ll skip over it. Sometimes, and this too is common, in months or years following, I might remember (by association) this video of the sock-pairing and check it out again, and it might have regained some of its suitability. And this is the mystery of the brain. I can’t explain why something regains its power this way.

But I know pretty well why it loses it, and that’s the goddamn dopamine circuit in the brain. There are a few qualities of the primate brain that I think are truly evil, in the sense that they are the genesis of evil behavior--not callousness, not antisocial action, not violence, evil, evil in the sense of wrong action which the brain does not recognize as wrong action--and they are, in no particular order, rationalization to reduce cognitive dissonance, pattern recognition, and the diminishing returns of the reward circuit. If you look at those and think, “gee axiom those are the reasons humans have been able to do anything at all,” then congrats, you’ve managed to realize what the Buddha meant when he said that existence is suffering, and that it is a man’s own mind, and not his enemy or his foe, which lures him to evil ways. I wonder if it’s worth it sometimes. We should have stayed in the trees, maybe. We sure as shit shouldn’t have invented the internet.

But I digress. What I’m saying here is that the reward circuit and the amorality of the id is what drives the obsessive searching involved in pornography. It’s why the addict, and I guess I’m an addict, spends so much time looking relative to the time spent using. Watching people have sex tricks our monkey brain, and the monkey brain gets tired of the same things day in and day out, particularly when the pleasing release of brain chemicals is so dramatic.

The ease of obtaining the pleasing brain chemicals (once a man gets to my age, he is likely to be quite practiced at obtaining an orgasm in one way or another) and the swiftness with which a quantum of pornography becomes tarnished with regards to suitability lead the consumer of pornography down greater and greater rabbit holes seeking stimulation. And, if the user is paying attention, he will find that this isn’t at all necessary. But, and I can’t speak for anyone else here, I know I’m never paying attention when I masturbate. Thinking ruins the experience. RUINS IT. Thinking leads me to analyze what I’m watching and there’s nothing more boner-killing to me than thinking about the clashing figures I’m watching as people. And yes, that’s horrible. And yes, that means I should stop. Because if I object to what I’m seeing morally, then I should, should apply that to my actions in consuming that media. BUT I DON’T AND I DON’T KNOW ANYONE WHO DOES THAT, EVER, ABOUT ANYTHING, INCLUDING BUT CERTAINLY NOT LIMITED TO THE CONSUMPTION OF PORN.

And that’s why humans are garbage.

When I say that it isn’t at all necessary what I mean is that the entire exercise of pornography is extraneous. Pornography is not required for orgasm. It’s just expedient. It’s just easy. It’s just what men, and me, have learned to do because it feels good, it’s pleasing, and it’s (in the sense outlined above RE: regulation) necessary to living.

And here’s the problem with all of that: there’s no alternative. I mean, okay, there is. There’s a bunch. Like, I could just use my imagination. But that’s like saying “dude you could just think about a story, reading is for idiots,” and to that I say, well, yeah, I could. But if it’s just me, if there’s nobody else, then the story I come up with has no purpose. It has no boundaries. There is no reason to present narrative challenges or to think about word selection because it isn’t a story if it’s in my head, it’s just feelings, it’s just ideas, it’s amorphous and ephemeral. It’s the same as anything else; it’s even the same as an orgasm in the greater sense. Yeah you can do it yourself. But it’s way, way nicer for someone to do it for you.

But the niceness of it is an illusion. It’s a total illusion. Because I can achieve, and have achieved, many an orgasm without the assistance of another person. And, at the moment, at least, it’s not like it’s hard to do that, at all. More on this in a second.

But for me, and for people who for one reason or another have this in common with me, the most simple, occam’s razorish approach--to go find another person to do this stuff with--seems, or is, completely unattainable, because of whatever real or imagined physical or emotional problems we perceive within ourselves.

And because nobody taught me this shit. Nobody. When my parents talked to me about sex, they were like “hey axiom let me tell you about sex” and I was like “I mean, if it’ll make you feel better,” and they were all “when two people love each other blah blah blah,” and I was like “kay whatevs,” and in my mind I was thinking “this love thing is not for you, this sex thing is not for you, this world is not for you” because that’s how I feel about everything good or nice, especially the good or nice things that have the potential to be horrible and damaging.

And there was no class in school where the teacher said “look axiom, here’s the thing about orgasms and hormones and the way it makes your body feel and the way you’re going to want to act,” and there was no teacher who said “this is a safe and healthy way to approach being with another person, and this is a safe and healthy way to approach being with yourself.”

And I sure as shit never experienced a setting where someone said “these things you feel don’t make you a monster,” and even if they had, I wouldn’t believe them, because rape exists, and because abusive relationships exist, and because people fight and get divorced and are shitty to each other. Instead, all I feel is shame. I feel ashamed about sex, I feel ashamed about orgasms, I feel ashamed the other parts of me, and all I want to do is conceal them. This is perhaps more unique to me, specifically; see >writing again, and perhaps for that matter every post on this goddamn shitfest of a tumblr. AND NONE OF THAT STOPS ME FROM WANTING IT.

So I’m driven, I think like many people are, to conceal my behavior about sex and masturbation and orgasms. And because it’s hidden, it gets thrown into a pile with a bunch of other hidden things, and that’s why pornography is so awful, why it’s so predatory and nefarious, because it’s hiding there where you can only find it if you’re hiding, and because nobody is looking, or rather, everyone is pretending not to look, then it becomes evil. There is no regulation of pornography (well, except for laws about ages of consent and whatnot), there is structure in place to teach me how to use it responsibly, and there is no structure in place to teach people how to make it responsibly, either. It’s just a hole where damaged, hurting people get thrown into, and there’s sadists down there waiting to continue to damage and hurt you, and to keep you from leaving. And yeah, there’s money there, and that’s part of the problem, but it wouldn’t be a problem if it wasn’t so vile and exploitative. It’s possible, and I say this as a truly brainwashed capitalist, to make money and still do the right thing. It is possible. It just isn’t possible to make as much money as you would if you were doing the wrong thing. And nobody makes that choice. It’s not even a choice, really.

This is what’s been eating me up about orgasms, at least while I was taking the ssri. But I stopped. And now, not only is my libido recovering, but, uh, the... how to put this delicately (as if I’ve been delicate so far)... nerve connections in my genitalia, which previously (because of the ssri) took a lot of precise stimulation to coax into orgasm, now do so essentially instantly. I got no idea how long this will last.

None of my previous habits work or make sense. A lot of the above is predicated on there being a build up. Mr. Id likes his tension and release, like I said. The more tension, the stronger the release.

And look, alright, spoilers or whatever, this is going to be graphic. But I used to be able to get hard and keep it that way for a while without achieving orgasm. I’ll try and illustrate: lets say masturbating is like riding a bike down a hill into a lake. After years of frustration on this ssri, wherein I would get on the bike and ride down the hill part way and then have to stop because of a flat tire, then looking wistfully at the lake at the bottom and being angry at myself for not knowing how to perform basic bike maintenance, I not only figured out how to make it all the way down the hill (under rather specific circumstances; like, the bike needs to follow this path, and there needs to be some music, and I’ve got to choose a hill that has enough clover or whatever) I got good at, once I’d neared the lake at the bottom, veering away from the lake and riding up to the top again. True, the lake at the bottom was the eventual goal, but the sensation of the wind as I rode down the hill were also nice, and nice enough themselves that I would get on my bike just to ride downhill sometimes, over and over again, and only splash in the lake when I had something else I needed to do.

This is what the (>smut) post is about, really. There was a lot of hill riding there and not any splashing, and, as mentioned above, this really twisted my perception of reality around. Really, really badly.

And when I say years of frustration above, well, I’ll just tell you what I mean. I first started taking an ssri (not the one I ended up with by they all act pretty similarly) I was dating my ex. And I was like 19, and there was not a lot of splashing going on for me. There was, I hope, for her. And we certainly did a lot of bike riding, in various configurations. But, I dunno. It felt bad not to splash. Like, really bad. For both of us, I think. I felt like I was broken. And she felt like I wasn’t into her. And neither of us knew how to talk about it or to fix it. I’m not going to say that’s what happened to us. I know it isn’t. But it didn’t help. It hurt, a lot.

But now I don’t ride down the hill. I splash, yes, but it happens as soon as I get on the bike. It’s like I’m 14 and I’ve never ridden a bike before (lol 14, axiom? you never rode a bike until you were 14?) and I get on the bike and I push down on a pedal and I fucking crash and burn right there at the top of the hill, and the sprinklers turn on and I’m lying there in a heap getting sprinkled. It sucks. Well, it sucks in the sense that I’m used to enjoying the ride down the hill, sometimes over and over again. And I’m used to splashing into the lake when I’m done.

But there ain’t no hill no more. And there ain’t no lake.

The upside is that I’m done in like 15 minutes, even when I really don’t want to be. And MAYBE THAT’S WHAT’S NORMAL. I don’t mean the, uh, sensitivity, or my sense of balance or whatever I’m supposed to be comparing things with in my over-labored, pointless bike-riding metaphor. I mean maybe it’s normal to want to go for a ride and get a little wet, and then be done with it pretty quick and move on to something else.

I want, I want to be able to do this. I want it not to feel deeply unsatisfying, because even though riding around on the hill over and over again and splashing into the lake is satisfying it’s full of such dreadful moral problems and it’s a waste of my motherfucking time and it isn’t necessary and, honestly, I should just find someone who wants to ride a tandem bike with me, and even if I crash real quick, maybe that someone won’t mind and will keep riding with me for a while until both of us get to the lake at the bottom.

I just don’t think that will happen to me. I just don’t think it’s real or possible for me.

And I don’t know what the fuck to do with all my time that I used to spend riding. I’d say “well axiom you can write now :^)” but all I can seem to write is unfocused, rambling nonsense like this here blog post.

FUCK ME (PLEASE FUCK ME) I HATE THIS (THIS IS WHAT I AM) I DON’T WANT TO BE ALONE (I NEVER WANT TO BE WITH ANYONE AGAIN)

Stop the ride I want to get off.

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