#every day i am forced to partake in this bullshit is another day where i think

[drowning-in-neon]

Job hunting is the fucking WORST

I swear it's only gotten worse and worse in the last ten years (fuck me, how have I been in the workforce for almost ten years), and it's going to make me snap, I think.

[writing-red]

The Red Bottle | 2

Draco Malfoy x Reader 

Summary: It’s their sixth year, Draco and the reader are placed in an arranged marriage by their pureblood families, expected to follow through they navigate their feelings for each other amongst the many other social pressures at Hogwarts.

Warnings: PARENTAL ABUSE! (verbal & physical) murder, substance abuse/underage drinking, and cussing. I am serious. These themes are heavy-handed, don’t read something that’s going to hurt you, okay?

Word Count: 4.1k

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Ever since the letters arrived, your life felt different, and going on as if everything hadn’t changed in a stroke of your mothers’ quill was difficult.

Of course, you and Draco had nearly every class together, and he was acting so differently when you were around. He wasn’t your best friend, but he also wasn’t insulting you or purposely making you trip in the halls. Of course, the two of you didn’t know how to act around one another, resulting in plenty of awkward interactions. It was only September, Winter Holiday wasn’t for months, and summer was much further, but the idea of it was looming.

“Alright, class, please find your new seats,” Slughorn announced as the sixth years piled into his class.

Professor Slughorn had a knack for playing matchmaker for his student before he retired, and he certainly didn’t plan on giving up his habit now that he was back. So, of course, when he noticed Draco’s feelings for Y/n, he got to it.

“Bloody hell,” you muttered underneath your breath when you realized who your partner would be for the foreseeable future. “Morning, Malfoy,” you said when you sat down. Neither of you wanted anyone knowing, so you had agreed to keep up appearances for the time being.

“Good morning, Y/l/n,” he said, not bothering to look at you.

It still stung a bit, you admit. Around your third year, you’d had a bit of a crush on the platinum-haired boy, and you hoped that maybe he would start treating you like a human being. But, it was clear you were overestimating the Slytherin Prince’s capacity for kindness. Despite that, something sparked in the pit of your stomach every time you spoke, but you just chalked it up to nerves and fear.

On the other hand, Draco had fancied you since your second year, a feeling that had only grown since then. But, he couldn’t let you know that, not now, not with everything going on. He could put you in harm’s way. If something happened to you, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself. Draco would just have to push those feelings down till he carried out the Dark Lords plan, and until this was all over. Love was a weakness, and he wouldn’t allow feelings for you to interfere with his duty to the Dark Lord.

But, Professor Slughorn interrupted your thoughts.

“Today, we shall be brewing amortenia, the love potion we reviewed last class. As we know, many potions require skill as well as patience, and amortenia is no exception. It will take roughly nine class periods, so settle in and try to be kind to your partners. The recipe is on the board and on page 27 of your books. Begin.”

Amortenia, of course, this class really couldn’t get any worse. It was as if the universe wanted to remind you that you were destined to a loveless marriage your selfish parents forced you into. Eventually, the hour-long period ended, you and Malfoy getting along decently enough to start your potion off on the right foot. 

The second Slughorn dismissed the class, you found your friends, and all of you hurried out to the Quidditch Pitch for try-outs where you and Hermione happily resigned yourselves to watching since neither of you are much of quidditch players. You watched Hermione nervously observing Ron and McLaggen, and you eyed her as she quietly sent a confundus charm McLaggen’s way. Being the good friend, you are you didn’t plan on letting her live that down anytime soon. As hard as everything was at the moment, being around the people you love never failed to help you feel a bit more normal.

You spent all your time with them, studying, eating, walking to classes. It wasn’t abnormal, but suddenly you were thoroughly intentional about who you were around and what you were doing. Even if it was something as simple as walking to the bathroom between classes, you were always sure to have a friend by your side.

-

Despite only having been at school for a week, tension was high around the castle. Everybody needed the chance to let loose a bit.

It’s a well-known fact at Hogwarts that Gryffindor throws the best parties. Everyone years five and up are invited regardless of house. If there’s one thing that can bond bold Gyrffindors and prideful Slytherin, its taking shots of firewhiskey side by side. No one ever snitches because if they were there, it means they were partaking. It was one of the few parties on-campus members of every house attend.

With the first week of classes over and the weekend here, it was the perfect time for a party. Over many years students crafted spots around campus faculty didn’t know about hidden student lounges behind paintings with a password and rooms stocked for parties with couches and bottles of alcohol that would just appear. They would move every year so that if students returned as professors, they would not be found.

“You’re coming to the party tomorrow, no excuse will get you out of it, and I will not take no for an answer,” you said to Hermione on your way the last class of your day.

“But what if we get caught?” She said.

“They’ll give us detention, they won’t kick out all of the fifth, sixth, and seventh years. Anyways they won’t catch us; that’s the point of the rotating location.”

“I have a paper to do.”

“You are the smartest person I know. You’ll finish it in the morning. You know what? I’ll do it with you, and if I don’t both finish, you don’t have to go,” you had a lengthy history of procrastinating on essays. They always took you far longer than they needed to.

“Deal,” Hermione said, underestimating how badly you wanted her at that party. “So how’s that potions project with Malfoy going?”

“Shit, don’t remind me,” you groaned. “Let’s just not talk about Malfoy this weekend.”

-

“Mate, you’ve got to get laid tomorrow night, ever since we’ve gotten back to school, it’s like you’re a different man,” Blaise said.

“I’m not tense. I’m just no longer interested in school-boy antics,” Draco bit back. None of the boys around him could understand half of what he was going through.

“Boys, take a shot every time Malfoy makes a bullshit excuse for his shitty attitude,” Nott said and chuckled, earning a glare from Draco.

“It’s Hogwarts, not a tavern. I don’t have to be in a damn good mood all of the time,” Malfoy responded bitterly.

“Yeah, but you don’t have to be a git all of the time. We just want you to destress a little mate, it’s not a bad thing,” Blaise said, leaning back in the plush armchair.

“Just go to the bloody party Draco, it’s not going to kill you,” Theo added.

“Fine,” Draco said under his breath. “Now, let’s get back to studying?”

-

“The effects of muggle philosophy have had an impact on the development of spells that is unmatched by other influences. The opportunity for these philosophers to have collaborated with witches and wizards would have simply increased the advantages which we already benefit from today.”

“In all of our years of school, you have never written an essay that quickly,” Hermione, astonished, said as you read her your concluding sentences.

“I had some motivation, now let’s go get ready! C’mon, it’s your very first Hogwarts party!”

“You are the absolute worst Y/n,” she groaned, as she started putting her essay and writing tools back in her bag.

“And you love me, so you’re going to have to work that one out,” you responded with a terribly overexaggerated wink. “Now come on! Maybe we’ll get Ron to stop being so daft and possibly ask you out,” You dragged your blushing friend out of the common room and up to your dormitory to get ready for the highly anticipated event.

-

There was something about how free you felt at these parties that had you coming back for more every time. Maybe it was the alcohol, perhaps the too-loud music and having to yell to speak, the mingling of sweat, old furniture, and cigarettes, or all of the above. Whatever it was, you loved it. 

You wore your favorite ensemble with a signature deep red clinging to your lips. Although, your pride and joy of the night was Hermione Granger in a tight red dress, somewhat tamed and defined curls, and just a tad bit of makeup. Your best friend is beautiful, you just loved the opportunity to dress her up.

You and Hermione stepped into the cozy room wrapped in ornate red wallpaper about forty minutes after the party’s official start, which had her nervous until you convinced her that was the way things were done, and she had to let you take the lead here. This was your area of expertise, not hers. You walked in and instantly found two fresh drinks, handing her one and offering a toast.

“To your very first Hogwarts party,” you said with a wide smile.

“You make me nervous, Y/n,” she responded, peering into the cup with fear in her eyes.

“That goes away with a few drinks, I promise,” With that, both of you threw back the concoctions. You took it without a second thought. Meanwhile, Hermione started coughing, not yet used to the punishments of hard alcohol.

While you and Hermione made your way through the party, with fresh drinks in hand, to find Harry and Ron, Draco and his crew entered. Draco was wearing an oversized black button-down with the sleeves rolled up his alabaster arms tucked into slick black pants that fit him perfectly. He sauntered in with Blaise, Theodore, Crabbe, and Goyle behind him. As always, he commanded the attention in the room; everyone knew the Slytherin Prince had arrived.

“Hey, your husband just walked in,” Ron whispered to you, a little too loudly for your liking.

“Ron. Shut your bloody mouth right now,” you said through your teeth. He was drunk enough to not care, you weren’t. “I’ll tear you to pieces.”

“Ooh, maybe you should have been a Slytherin, you’re soo scary,” he said and chuckled at his horrible joke.

“Ron, you’re acting like a git, shut up,” Hermione said, jumping to your defense.

“Harry, who’re you staring at?” You asked, in an attempt to change the subject off of you and Malfoy.

“I’m watching the door to see if Ginny shows,” he said quietly to you. His infatuation with Ginny was still a sore subject with Ron.

“I’ll let you know if I see her,” you responded. 

“Thanks,” Harry said and smiled, noticing the lull in the conversation he pipped up. “Why don’t I go get us some more drinks? Y/n and Hermione need to get on my and Ron’s level.” 

“Sounds good, Potter,” you quipped as he walked towards the bar.

Across the room, Draco Malfoy watched you with a close eye. The instinct to protect you hadn’t yet faded, and it was currently manifesting through stalking you at parties. Blaise noticed his friend’s gaze on you, but he let his friend be. Maybe this would be his opportunity to find out what’s been occupying Malfoy’s brain.

It wasn’t long until Harry returned to your spot with four bottles and no cups in sight.

“That’s it, Harry, it's official, you’re insane,” Hermione said, quickly putting two and two together.

“Oh, just take the bottle, Hermione! You don’t have to drink the whole thing,” he said and handed her a bright red bottle of fire whiskey.

He handed you the same then passed an open beer to Ron, considering he was already pretty drunk. You graciously accepted the bottle and took a swig, the whiskey burning, but it didn't bother you as you were rather used to it at this point.

“Are you going to drink all of that?” Dracos' highly judgemental voice came from behind your spot on the couch.

“Excuse me?” You asked and turned around to see him looming over you. “Did you come here just to judge me? This is a party, you know, drinking is kind of the point. And, why are my drinking habits any of your business?” You questioned, a slur slowly starting to take over your voice.

“You know exactly why it is my business,” he said as if each word was causing him terrible pain.

You handed off the bottle to Harry, stood, and spun around to face Draco. Instead of making you clumsy,  whiskey grants you grace. You were not a sloppy drunk. You placed a hand on Draco’s chest and leaned in close enough for the interaction to be intimate. You were drunk enough now, and the man in front of you was far too sober.

“I am not your wife; in fact, I am not yet your fiancée. We are to be married, we aren’t engaged. And that does not give you the right to control me, Malfoy,” you said, sneering as you uttered his surname. “Now let me live my life before I am subject to you for the rest of it,” you were seething, not once breaking eye contact with him as you took out the anger you had towards your parents on him.

He responded by grabbing your chin rather roughly, “Watch the way you speak to me.”

You slapped his hand away, “Don’t bloody touch me like that.” 

“I’ll touch you in whatever way I want,” he said, just as angry as you. The two of you held your staring contest before he stormed away from you towards wherever alcohol was.

To put it lightly, you were livid. How dare he treat you like some object he could throw around. Tears welled up in your eyes, and all you could think was that you wanted to hurt him back the way he had hurt you.

“Y/n, are you alright?” Harry asked. 

“Give me back the whiskey, please,” you responded.

Harry complied, passing the flaming red bottle your way. If there was one thing, childhood trauma taught you, it was how to drink.

You drowned yourself in the bottle, finishing it off to your friend's shock. “I am perfectly fine,” you said, putting the bottle down and wiping the water away from your eyes. “Ron, Hermione, if you don’t mind, Harry and I are going to go on a walk.”

The suggestion in your voice wasn’t evident to anyone but Harry, who knew exactly what you were getting at. It wasn’t uncommon for the two of you to snog at parties when each of you was drunk enough. It never got in the way of your friendship, and it wasn’t romantic in the least. It was just something the two of you do on nights where either one wants the chance to forget.

It wasn’t long until you found a spare corner, and the rest of the fire whiskey did its job. Ginny out of his mind, Harry made quick work of pushing you up against the wall and placing his lips on yours. One didn’t need passion to be a good kisser. You reached up your hand and gripped his hair in an attempt to pull him closer to you. The closer he was, the further away Draco would be, right? And Harry obliged, kissing you harder and wrapping his arms around your waist. But, this time it wasn’t working, you couldn’t get the thought of Draco’s hands on you out of your head. Even his scent was lingering, he was infuriating. You continued to try and push the notion of Draco's lips on yours by letting Harry move from your lips to your neck.

Not far away, Draco watched the Chosen One snog his betrothed, jealousy tightening its grip on his heart. It hurt more than he could care to admit. You had some power over him he didn’t know existed before this moment, and he knew that it was dangerous, that caring about you was dangerous. But at this moment, all he wanted was for you to get away from Harry Potter.

“Mate, what is going on?” Blaise asked, breaking Draco from his trance, and handing him a drink.

Draco took the drink and let out a breath. “My parents have decided that Y/l/n and I will be married this summer. We both found out Monday.”

“Didn’t I just see her in a corner snogging Potter?” He asked, his voice rigid.

Draco took a sip from the mystery cup and nodded. 

“That’s right disrespectful, and it’s clearly bothering you, go bloody do something about it,” Blaise reasoned.

“I don’t know. I think I may have brought it on,” Blaise could feel Dracos tension, and he placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“It was her decision to pull him into a corner, now get her out of it,” he advised, and Draco nodded, you shouldn’t be going around kissing other guys, particularly not Harry Potter.

“Thanks, Blaise,” he said and set his drink down on a nearby surface before heading over to your little corner.

Harry’s lips were back on yours, there was likely a mark on your neck, but that wasn’t anywhere near your thoughts. No, even with Harry’s tongue in your mouth, your mind was still on Draco fucking Malfoy.

“I hope I’m not bothering the two of you, but I’m going to need a word with Y/n,” Draco said, causing you to pull off of Harry and turn towards Draco. Despite his evident anger, he had a sense of decorum about him.

“Draco, darling, I’m busy, can’t you tell?” You teased in response.

“I’m sure you and Potter can spare a moment for me,” he said tightly.

But you ignored his anger and turned to Harry, who was disheveled, confused, and disappointed by the loss of contact. “Love, would you mind if I stepped away with Mr. Malfoy here for a moment?” You asked sarcastically, not expecting an answer.

“I mean-”

“Just come with me,” Draco said, interrupting Harry, not caring one bit what he had to say. Again tightly grabbing your wrist, as he pulled you out of the party and out into the hall.

“We just have to stop meeting like this handsome,” you said, placing a hand on his chest, softer than you had earlier.

“You’re drunk,” he said, distaste for your inebriated behavior clear as he pushed you off of him.

“Awe, you’re handsome when you’re mean,” you said, a playful pout on your lips.

“Shut it, Y/n, listen to me. I need you to take this seriously, are you listening?” He asked hotly.

“How could I ignore words coming out of pretty lips like yours, love?” You asked, an enticing drawl to your voice, pushing him off the edge.

He wanted so badly to push you up against the wall and reclaim your lips. He knew the words out of your mouth were just drunken prattle, and you didn’t mean a lick of it, but he couldn’t help, but he couldn’t keep the butterflies from flooding his stomach every time you flirted with him or called him love. But, it wasn’t real, it couldn’t have been, why else would you have just been up against a wall with Harry? Merlin, Draco hated how badly he loved you.

“Y/n, listen!” He had started shouting, causing you to draw back into yourself and sink into the wall. “You said it yourself, whether we like it or not, we’re getting married this summer. This winter, you’ll be at my house with my family planning our wedding. If you decide you don’t want to comply, they’ll kill you. So you’re going to listen to me and do as I say. Your bloody life depends on it.”

You just nodded, suddenly at a loss for words. In the state you were in, you couldn’t help but see your own father in Draco at that moment. Survival instincts told you to comply.

“We are going to start dating, we’ll be nice to each other in class, eat together, go on dates, study, and keep up appearances as our parents requested. That being said, you’re not to go around snogging other boys, especially not Harry Potter, and I won’t be snogging girls in corners at parties.” You could sense the bitterness in his voice. “The second you broke the seal on that letter, you confirmed your fate. No matter how much you ignore it, there’s no escaping it, so stop trying, and bloody accept it.”

“Draco I-”

“Why do you assume that marrying me is a death sentence?” He wasn’t done. He was deeply hurt by your words and actions over the course of the last week. You made his heart twist, but to you right now, he was just angry. “I’m not as awful as you and your friends constantly make me out to be.”

“All you’ve ever done is hurt me, Draco,” you said, any air of drunken playfulness gone now, tears were threatening to spill out of your eyes. The alcohol was making it impossible to gather your thoughts. “Since we got here, calling me bloodtraitor, every time you got a chance to, you would remind me of how my parents thought of me and what they do to me. All that shit you pulled for all those years, making me feel inferior. You always confirmed that I deserved the abuse, the terrors I faced at home. And now all of a sudden, we’re supposed to get married, and you care in your weird twisted way?” You could not hide the hurt as it streamed down your face and the confusion that laced your voice. “You can’t do that to me!”  

Draco broke inside, watching you hurt because of him. But he didn’t know how to tell you that he cared and that he wanted so badly to love you, but he didn’t understand how. “That doesn’t change our family’s choice. Learn how to live with it because, as of tomorrow morning, you are my girlfriend, I put that hickey there, not Potter, and I don’t care how nasty your hangover is, you’ll wake up, get dressed and look presentable, and you’ll go on a date with me to Hogsmede tomorrow. Do you understand?” There was no room in his voice for disagreement. He sounded livid.

The tear that slipped down your cheek as you nodded broke his heart. It hadn’t even been a week, and all he’d done was hurt you. You were right. He was a monster.

“I understand,” you said, and he knew you wouldn’t forget this tomorrow morning, so with that, he stormed off.

The second he turned the corner, you slid down to the floor, you were sobbing, and you couldn’t breathe. He was right. It wouldn’t be the wedding that would change your life, it had been the letter. You were his, and that wasn’t going to change. No matter what, you were stuck. The panic attack just got worse as you sat there, unable to move. But, apparently, you were there long enough for someone to realize you were gone because, at some point, Ron came out to find you in your predicament. He didn’t say anything, he just picked you up and carried you to the Gryffindor common room. He set you down on a couch near the fireplace and sat on the floor next to you as your sobbing shifted to silent tears, and bit by bit, your breathing started to return to normal.

“Is there anything I can do?” He asked sweetly, no matter how much Ron joked and teased, he cared.

But you just shook your head no, and when he walked away, you assumed he was going to bed, but he returned with a large shirt, shorts, and a glass of water.

“Y/n, I don’t think you can make it up to your room, please put these on and drink this.”

You nodded and did as he told the common room was empty, so all it took was him turning around to give you the privacy to change.

“Do you want me to stay here with you tonight?” he asked gently. It was obvious you didn’t want to talk, and it was clear that Malfoy had caused this, but he didn’t want to leave you alone.

You just nodded, so he grabbed a couple of pillows from around the room and two blankets. After placing one on you, he lay down on the ground next to you and fell asleep.

Part 3 - The Milky Tea

Tag list - @whatawildone @herequeerandstressed @lordfxxker @pillowjj @pointlesscoconut @lovelylangdonx @fire-in-her-veinz @morelovemorepeacemoretattoo-blog

[dorkery]

I manifest, briefly, to write about this miniseries WHICH I HAD EXTREMELY HIGH HOPES FOR, and it disappointed me so much I’m compelled to write an actual review about it. In summary, of course. If I did it in-depth, it would probably have to be on my proper blog (oops shit I haven’t updated that in ages).

INTRO ABOUT JAPAN AND WWII (skip this to get to actual review of series)

TOKYO TRIAL. Ah. The Asian parallel to Nuremberg. Media about Japanese war crimes and the subsequent actions (the trial, the rehabilitation of criminals, the adoption of Unit 731 research by American forces, the conflicts between the Japanese Imperial Army and its victims) is not as extensive as the war in Europe. In fact, the Tokyo Trials themselves were not as punitive as the Nuremberg Trial (for a host of bureaucratic reasons, but also the lack of systematic eradication of Japanese citizens, but this is a very simplified explanation). And most media about the Japanese occupation is usually Chinese or Korean (understandably) even though the Japanese did a good job fucking up the Philippines, Malaya, the Dutch East Indies and so on. Also, much media about the Japanese occupation, I find, tends to be about the overall general existence of the Japanese occupation force, rather than specific historical figures (I am making a blanket statement here, I’ve watched limited amounts of Korean and Chinese language media on the Japanese occupation). There’s nothing wrong with this, of course, but the lack of quantity then leaves a viewer chomping on the bit for some good historical drama. 

Part of it, probably, is due to the relative mystery of the Japanese occupation when compared to the Nazi occupation. Nazis, the Holocaust, the Third Reich are everywhere in media and have been researched and shared to death. Not so for the Japanese invasion (well, probably in English). The Rape of Nanking (book) was probably THE thing that shone a spotlight on Japanese atrocities, but it’s a drop in the ocean compared to the overall Japanese action in Asia (newsflash: the Japanese ALSO tortured the people in countries that were not China, even though yes, I will readily admit they especially tortured the Chinese populations in countries that were not China). 

There is so much Good Shit TM from a edutainment perspective on stuff you can squeeze out of the Japanese invasion. DID YOU KNOW??? THE JAPANESE ARMY CYCLED - ON BICYCLES - FROM THE KINGDOM OF SIAM TO SINGAPORE OVER 2 MONTHS, CAPTURING ALL THE TERRITORY THEY CYCLED THROUGH (because the locals supported the Japanese invasion at the time - Asia For Asians! was the propaganda they put out which was total bullshit, the locals would eventually discover), AND THEN ACCEPTED A BRITISH SURRENDER. THE KING OF SIAM AGREED TO LET THE JAPANESE USE THEM AS THE BIKING ENTRY POINT IN EXCHANGE FOR “DON’T INVADE ME BRO” AND ALSO “can I have some northern malayan territory”. THE JAPANESE AGREED. You can’t make this shit up. And this is the non-atrocity part of it. The atrocity part is as vicious, but differently so, from the Holocaust (which I would prefer not to get into as that’s an entire essay in and of itself - summary: the Japanese bayonet everything - EVERYTHING - and also Contest to kill 100 people with actual Japanese swords as promoted by Mainichi and Nichi Nichi Shimbun and also soap water drinking stomach bulge boot step interrogation technique ok let’s stop this here)

You get what I’m saying. It’s an entire period of history that has not been harvested for good quality drama. And I don’t need fabricated romantic bullshit (I’m looking at you, Embun (even though you were damned good, you’re STILL BULLSHIT)). I’m talking Schindler’s List-type films, with history and gravitas and nuance. Most historical movies have immature script-writers who basically paint the Japanese occupiers as monsters (not necessarily inaccurate, but painfully one dimensional). (Digression: Recently I watched Kanang Anak Langkau which was about a Malayan (and then Malaysian) Ranger who helped fight off the Communists after the Japanese occupation ended and, man, the entire movie was flat... except the Communists??? Like, they were clearly terrible but they were well-portrayed and had great actors. So. Opposite problem. Asians are really bad at war films that aren’t Classic Period Dramas.)

As a citizen of a Japanese-occupied country, with YEARS of history textbooks dedicated to the Japanese occupation, and a generation of Japanese war survivors either dead or unwilling to discuss their experiences, in a region with... pretty bad recording of this sort of history, I think you get my interest and fascination with this entire chapter. And since I’m in a country that isn’t the centre of the Japanese invasion (i.e. China and Korea) it makes even more sense that I’m interested in the occupation and action in countries like the Philippines, Malaya and so on.  

ACTUAL REVIEW OF TOKYO TRIAL MINI-SERIES

OK. Sorry. I had to get that off my chest. SO. Tokyo Trial.

This is actually the second piece of media about the Tokyo War Crimes Tribunal on video that I’m aware of (that’s been dramatised). The first one was a movie, also called TOKYO TRIAL, and it was a Chinese production (in English) from a Chinese perspective. The protagonist was the Chinese judge on the bench, Justice Mei. Tokyo Trial the Movie (TT(M) from here on out) was heavily dramatised and abridged in order to make for (well, attempted) excitement, action and historical legal thrills. It gets bogged down at times with some typical pacing problems (typical for Asian films). Like a good historical legal thriller, it focuses on victim testimony and the arrogance of the accused and of course it culminates in the feel good moment where you can watch outraged/distraught Japanese war criminals reacting to their sentences. Overall not a bad movie to watch, but not really great. Made interesting only by the righteousness of the protag and the severity and outrageousness of the subject matter. But it suffers from some stuttered pacing and an extremely narrow Chinese POV (understandable, given the protag and the production). 

Now. Tokyo Trial (Mini-Series) (TT(MS) from here on). 

Pros: Very beautiful. Decent Actors. VERY BEAUTIFUL.

Cons: Literally everything else.

HOW. HOW DO YOU CREATE A MINI-SERIES ABOUT THE JAPANESE WAR CRIMES TRIAL WITHOUT FEATURING JAPANESE WAR CRIMES????? 

Astounding. I’m truly astounded. Where to even begin.

1. The protagonist

GUESS WHO IT IS. No really, guess. In a movie about the Tokyo War Crimes Tribunal, guess who the main character is. I guarantee you won’t get it.

It’s the Dutch Judge.

WHY? 

The Judge, btw, doesn’t even have any kind of personal or professional link to the Japanese occupation. Even when the protag is asked by a stranded German diva about how he must have suffered during the Nazi occupation, he admits that he didn’t have it as bad as others. His family is entirely intact although they were in the Dutch East Indies when the Japanese invaded.

2. The focus of the series

can you fucking guess

it’s the goddamn judges

the entire series is about the trials and tribulations (pun fucking intended) of the GODDAMN JUDGES

DURING SERIOUS TESTIMONY OF VICTIMS AND THE ACCUSED, THE SHOTS ARE OF THE CONCERNED/CONSTIPATED FACES OF THE JUDGES

The mini-series, 4 episodes long, opens with the Dutch Judge writing to his wife and giving some decent introduction to all the major players. And then it brings into focus the various justices from around the world who will be partaking in this historical undertaking. 

The President of the Tribunal is Sir William Webb, Australian. He looks great but suffers from terrible lines and staging. BTW all the characters are extremely one dimensional WITH TWO EXCEPTIONS: The British Judge (who veers between an ally, a one-note antagonist, but is then redeemed as an anti-hero - clearly the deuteragonist) and the Chinese Judge, who is soft-spoken, well-mannered, firm but not unyielding, a clear contrast to the fiery and righteous protag of TT(M). Honestly, I think he would be the best portrayal except... halfway through, Irrfan Khan appears as the Indian Judge, and honestly Paul Freeman was so good as the British (Scottish) Judge. 

The entire series is about the judges politicking amongst one another and trying to argue about whether crimes of aggression (or crimes against peace) are valid grounds for a case, as these crimes have never existed before (cue arguing about the precedent set by Nuremberg). 

Our intrepid (barf) protag intersperses the tense boardroom confrontations (really can barely be called that: a serious point is brought up in court, they adjourn to their chambers, they START to argue, and then the Tribunal President immediately says ok let’s all go retire for the day before any interesting or insightful conversations can begin) with one-on-one interactions with (1) a German pianist diva whom he admires as he plays violin (their duet sucks btw) (2) a Japanese intellectual who hangs out at the beach (they have zero onscreen connection and exists only to instill doubt in the Dutch judge’s mind as he contemplates the trial) (3) various judges as they begin gossiping over the latest judge to pose drama in the chambers. 

That’s all. Honestly. That’s the content of the mini-series in a nutshell.

3. The pacing and the script

god it’s so 

MEALY

Every scene, EVERY SCENE, is played as grave and solemn

You think this isn’t bad? Every single scene begins with thoughtful pauses and long poignant looks, even over such lines which you can picture your grandpa and uncle just quipping at each other (”The marathon begins” “I’d rather hope it would be a sprint”).

Mealy = the actual script is so awkward. It doesn’t sound like human beings talking. It’s a mouthful. ugh.

Pacing = Example: in episode 3, probably, literally 3 scenes side-by-side, 2 judges talking to each other as they walk down a path. Each scene is: A asks B about C. And then it is immediately followed by D asking C about B. CAN YOU IMAGINE??? They don’t intersperse the shot at all. It’s just 3 conversations in a row gossiping. 

Pacing 2 = time passes but badly. Suddenly a year has passed, but we don’t get a sense of it unless we’re told; there’s no difference in appearance or speaking manner among the judges. there’s no real development at all, except for the position of the Dutch Judge whose position on crimes of aggression changes as he gets pulled in several ways by several people, and you end the series without any feeling of resolution or satisfaction. AT ALL. I feel like you end where you start in terms of the arguments and everything.

4. Reflections

I’ve discovered that this mini-series was nominated for an emmy in 2017 for best series. I’ve also discovered 2 reviews (ONLY) online for this series, one on a blog and on one iMBD, both praising the series for being good for history buffs that showcases an unknown part of history.

i) That is not accurate. It is a terrible series that showcases the politics and drama of the tribunal judges, and not of the japanese war crimes. literally nobody needs to know, or care, about the judges of a war crimes trial (british, canadian, US, NZ judge conspire to get the president replaced, he leaves, US judge is chosen as his replacement, HE COMES BACK, NOBODY CARES) (aside with Blakely the US lawyer and what he’s trying to accomplish in court with his controversial and it’s not explained and ignored later)

ii) Historic footage is interspersed, meaninglessly. This includes the footage of the accused and 2 victims giving testimony, I believe. It is THE MOST INTERESTING part of the series. The footage used is minimal. And it just doesn’t gel with the whole series as a whole.

iii) This show was made by a Japanese crew and NHK so. 

All in all, from an entertainment perspective, Tokyo Trial failed to be compelling, interesting or noteworthy. The actors were bogged down by a bad script and weak direction. If you want to watch a show about the Tokyo War Crimes Tribunal, watch the older Chinese movie - less accurate but way more entertaining, and it ACTUALLY focuses on Japanese war crimes.

[theglowstickchronicles]

Guys, I was HELLA behind on FMLS90- but I'm still in it! Just caught up :) while I was waiting for the grocery store to open. Now I am off with my reusable bags to get my food for the week before coming home and continuing chores. I want to get as much done as possible before FOOTBALL starts!!! We're playing Kansas City at 4:25 today (@fatmaninalittlesuit I'm sure you'll be watching this game as well!) and I am SO NERVOUS. We have been... trash, lately. Last week's game was atrocious. I wish I had planned better and tried to go to the game, even though it would probably be crazy expensive and super cold, because my football buddies are in California on a mini vacation (their 3rd this season compared to my 0) and I only have local cable at home.

Anyway, here it is:

• 11/18 - How does holiday food play a role in your fitness journey? Do you have any positive or negative traditions that impact your journey? Share one of both.

Well, this was probably supposed to be about Thanksgiving feasts but here we are on December 8th! Honestly, we don’t really have any “traditions” beyond getting together and sharing a meal. In hindsight this Thanksgiving was probably my best, calorie-wise, because my brother-in-law’s sister did most of the cooking and did a lot of sides with bacon incorporated into them and, since I’m vegetarian, I did not partake. I had some DELICIOUS food, don’t get me wrong, and she made a to-die-for caprese salad… but most of the apps had bacon and several of the sides. I ended up having cheese and crackers, french onion tartlets (SOOO GOOD), chips & dip, mashed potatoes, and a plethora of vegetable sides. It also helped that I had to work overnight Thursday into Friday so I couldn’t have any wine 

• 11/19 - How does holiday stress play a role in your fitness journey? Do you have any especially stressful situations that make your physical or mental journey tough? How do / will you handle them?

Holidays don’t really stress me out, if we’re being honest. As of Dec. 6 I just need to pick up some alcohol and then some giftcards for my cousin’s kids, and I’m done Christmas shopping. I start my shopping November 1 every year. I don’t mind seeing my family -they’re dramatic, just like everyone else, but compared to my job? A few hours of family drama time is nothing. I do tend to hoard a bottle of wine to myself for the holidays but I’m not sober during non-holiday times, either, so that doesn’t really come into play.

• 11/20 - What role do family and friends play in your holidays? Are these mostly positive or negative? What do you want to change about this?

Mostly positives! I hosted my second annual Friendsgiving this year and it was fantastic. The one downside was I had been up for 44 hours but I think it went well. Honestly the only “downside” to friends/family during holidays is having to be in such close quarters with people because as much as I love them, someone inevitably has germs.

• 11/21 - Do you notice and physical / mental changes around this time of year? Do you have any strategies to deal with them?

I am always a sleepy bitch, but more so during the winter months due to the lack of sun. This M-F, not getting home till 5-6 every night, office has no window life is bullshit. We always jokes that nightshift never sees the sun but dude, until you’ve gone 5 days without sunlight, don’t even @ me. I am extra careful about taking my vitamins during this time of the year because I really do notice a difference in energy and mood without them (I have some vitamin deficiencies NOT related to my diet thank you).

• 11/22 - How do work / school commitments / events this time of year differ for you? Can this be used to your advantage in your fitness journey or are there steps you can take to minimize the challenges?

In the fall we have annual mandatory education at work which can be stressful but other than that, work does not change. This year was a little different because I picked up a second job and had orientation and have been working a lot to save up money for my many endeavors over the next 2 years (sister’s bridal shower / bachelorette /wedding, best friend’s bridal shower / bachelorette / wedding, everyone is turning 30 and wants to go all out -me included- wanting to go on more vacations, wanting to do a 29th birthday somethingl… the list is endless…. Lol)

• 11/23 - Do you have any plans to travel this year? If so, describe the challenges that creates and how you will handle them. If not, what can you do at home to set yourself up for success?

One semi-definite plan is my sister’s bachelorette in 2020! I don’t know when or where we’re going, but we’re going- which reminds me, I need to get my passport in case it ends up being Canada! I also would like to do a small trip for my 29th birthday. Originally I wanted to take a week off (I am close to vacation time caps at work) but we are OF COURSE having a new system go-live 6 days after my birthday and I’m like, top 5 most important people for the go-live. So we shall see. Perhaps a 3-day weekend for president’s day somewhere close?

• 11/24 - Share one tip with the community on how to stay healthy during the holidays.

I feel like any time I have to share a tip with the community I share the same one, but there it is: PREPARATION. For instance I have not meal prepped in 3 weeks and IT SHOWS. I’ve been feeling sluggish and gross, not working out like I should be, and not sleeping as well…. PREPARATION IS KEY!!!

• 11/25 - What are your general thoughts on gratitude and the role it plays in your mental health and happiness?

Being in healthcare puts a new perspective on gratitude. I’m answering this hella late so it’s not actually 11/25 and is several weeks post-Thanksgiving, but… yesterday I watched a daughter unexpectedly lose her mother in the worst possible way. She walked into the room and almost immediately told us to stop doing CPR. I am grateful for my family being here and healthy, I am grateful for my fellow healthcare providers, and I am grateful that this strong woman who was having the worst day of her life wanted one thing for her mother in the last moments of her life: peace.

• 11/26 - What are some past experiences I am grateful for? How did they shape my life for the better?

I am grateful for growing up the way I did. I can’t say I wouldn’t change things but being raised by who I was shaped me into who I am. I’m grateful I wasn’t just handed things and was forced to work for them. I was probably not super appreciative at age 16 when I had to pay for my own car, but as an adult I am SO happy that I learned the lesson of working hard.

• 11/27 - Who do I appreciate? Tell us about them and why you are grateful they are in your life.

Right now I am appreciating the nurse who took report from me last night! We’ll probably never meet again but thank you for listening to my rants, not judging my last-minute leaky IV (don’t worry, the patient had another one that worked fine), and for getting me out of there so quickly!

• 11/28 - It’s Thanksgiving Day in the U.S. Tell us what specifically you are Thankful for today.

On Thanksgiving I was grateful for friends, family, and awesome coworkers.

• 11/29 - What are some people / things I may be taking for granted? How can I better express my gratitude for these people / things in the future?

I sometimes take my dad especially for granted. I depend on him for things around the house that I don’t have the skills or knowledge to do, such as fix the deck or the running toilet or even hang things without punching a hole in the wall. In the future I want to express that I’d rather him teach me these things instead of just coming to do them.

• 11/30 - What are some future opportunities I have that I am grateful for?

Everyone’s wedding, and the Year of Turning 30 Extravaganza.

• 12/1 - Share one tip with the community on how to live life with at attitude of gratitude.

No one is grateful 100% of the time. I try to make it a point every day to think of what I have… friends, family, pets, house, car, food in my fridge, etc…. and remember that not everyone has those.

• 12/2 - Where are you on your personal mental health journey? What strengths and opportunities do you have?

The changing of the seasons, setting the clocks back, and the SNOW on December 1st took its toll. I am usually not a Christmas-decorations-the-day-after-Thanksgiving type of person, but this year that’s the day that worked for my family getting our trees (me, my dad, and my sister/brother in law all go together and my Dad drops the trees off with his pickup) so I decorated that weekend and began listening to Christmas music (Pentatonix, ayyyyy). It really HAS been a pick-me-up!!!

• 12/3 - What are some past experiences with mental heath work? What has worked well for you and what has not worked as well.

Personally? None. Professionally? Just what I give as a nurse.

• 12/4 - How is your mental health compared to a year ago? Are you remaining steady, improving or regressions? What do you need to do about it?

Well, this time last year I had been at my job for one day and had no idea what I was doing. Now I’ve been here for a year and know what I’m doing… 50% of the time? So my mental health has gotten better since I no longer feel like a fish out of water. It helps that I got a per diem at the bedside and have those opportunities to do direct patient care.

• 12/5 - How aware are you of your mental health? Are your your moods steady or do they ebb and flow? Are you aware when things are changing and do you have any experience / tips for heading off tough times?

Very aware of my mental health; you have to be, to survive in healthcare without getting serious burnout. I would say my moods ebb and flow, which isn’t abnormal. Tough times can be headed off by doing self care, and I don’t mean in the bath-bomb-face-mask type of way: do your laundry (and fold it straight out the dryer), wash the dishes, clean the house, meal prep… and maybe get a manicure.

• 12/6 - Have you noticed any patterns / cycles to your own mental health? Do the seasons, or specific holidays or other variables impact you in specific ways?

Not especially. Late fall / early winter tends to be hard due to the lack of sun, but I also have a vitamin D deficiency that for obvious reasons gets worse in the winter, and low vit D causes depressive symptoms.

• 12/7 - How are mental health and physical health connected? What are some of your experiences that show this in your life?

Well. In my personal and somewhat-work-related experience, being in poor physical health often has a negative impact on mental health. HOWEVER BEING IN POOR PHYSICAL HEALTH DOES NOT MEAN BEING OVERWEIGHT. Plenty of patients have normal BMIs and are in poor health, and plenty have BMIs that label them obese and are in good health. And being in good physical health does not mean you have good mental health. I guess what I want to say is that while they can influence one another, they are not directly correlated?

• 12/8 - Share one tip with the community about developing or maintaining your mental health.

Don’t let things pile up. And I mean that literally and figuratively. Clean your house and prep your food and for the love of God empty the trash from your car (no? just me?). But also… don’t dwell on things you cannot change, and don’t stew on things you can. Just do it. It will be worth the time, energy, and anxiety.

[jmcdra]

One Body, One Spirit; a Queer Perspective

Genesis 30:20-24 Then Leah said, “God has endowed me with a good dowry; now my husband will honor me, because I have borne him six sons”; so she named him Zebulun.  Afterwards she bore a daughter, and named her Dinah.  Then God remembered Rachel, and God heeded her and opened her womb.  She conceived and bore a son, and said, “God has taken away my reproach”; and she named him Joseph, saying, “May the Lord add to me another son!”

Today’s readings at Mass: Exodus 16:2-4, 9-15; Ephesians 4:1-16; and John 6:24-35

It’s been a long time since I’ve been inspired to write anything, especially related to Christianity and church.  It’s been over a year now since I’ve written anything on these subjects but now that I have been feeling filled again, as well feeling that I’ve found my place in light of my transition; I’m feeling inspired to write again now.  So today’s reflection I’ll be sharing is a bit of a reflection of the sermon I heard at church today, today’s scripture reading at church, and some personal study to find/make a role for myself in life.  

To illustrate my line of thought, I’m going to begin with where I started falling down the rabbit hole to get where I’m at.  This week I’ve been particularly reflective of my transition since it had been nearly one year since I came out as trans.  For those that know me personally, you all know the life changes I’ve made since then for the better and how I’ve really been blossoming (I won’t be touching too much on those here so that aren’t familiar with my blossoming, please have some faith that I have).  So where does every modern day search for guidance begin, especially concerning obscure topics?  Of course, my handy dandy Google search on my phone for transgender and the Bible.  Had to weed through the bullshit at the top of the search talking about how “transgenderism” (sic) is a sin.  I then found the a few transgender Christian pages mentioning about how there’s a connection between eunuchs and transgender people and how the apostles were specifically taken by the Holy Spirit to the eunuchs to include them in the Church just as they are.  I had heard this before and while this is nice, it really doesn’t answer where I fit in with the Church and in relation to God.  It’s reassurance that I’m not some sort of mistake or freak, but it doesn’t explain why I’m not.  Something caught my attention though on the page though of a story I hadn’t heard of before.  The story of Dinah.  Dinah was a daughter of Leah who gets briefly mentioned in Genesis 30 and becomes a bit of a story arc later in Genesis for her brothers.  While her mention of her birth is brief in the beginning of Genesis, there is apparently a few Midrash (Jewish exegesis and interpretations) surrounding her.  One of note and related to this article is that in the womb Dinah was a male but Leah prayed to God for a daughter so she would not be greater than Rachel and God granted her prayer.  The point of this teaching was that we should always pray to God no matter what and prayer is never in vain (Berkahot 60a for those curious of the source).

So this particular story is what I’ve been seeking.  Not only something to illustrate inclusion but a story that illustrates that trans people are a gift.  Now I know some of the people who follow and read this are definitely going point out how sexist this is and of course it’s sexist by our standards, it’s some millennia removed from us, but this is inspiring because it shows that religious thinkers and teachers were willing to include people like me into the faith, not as joke or an example of “sin” but as illustrating the power and greatness of God.  While a very inspiring story and significant to me, I was having a hard time of figuring out how to put this significance into words.  And that’s how today fits in.

Today’s scripture readings and sermon brought this story into a bigger picture for me today.  The focus of the sermon were on the Letter to the Ephesians.  Deacon Chris told an anecdote  about her time as a swim coach to illustrate one different talents, gifts, and perspective being channeled into being one body and spirit and how it relates to the church.  While I may not have a total grasp of what gifts I bring to the table at my Church and to Christian community as a whole, I understand that I and other queer people bring gifts that have been over looked and neglected and it’s time for those gifts to be recognized as such.  Again to tie into scriptural perspective these gifts have been the stone that the builders have rejected but we are now recognizing that didn’t need to be.  To me, this is what it means to be a part of a Living Church and worshipping a living God.  It means that our perspective grows and adapts in light of natural and revealed truth, that we recognize our humanity and limitedness in light of God and that Christ is continuously showing us how the Kingdom of God is now.  

While the Exodus reading wasn’t addressed in today’s sermon, I believe it ties in with not with today’s lesson, but also with current events.  We have many pharaohs, literally and figuratively, over us today.  Those of us that are “the least” tend to have more pharaohs over them than others.  I do honestly believe a change is going to be taking place that will free us from many of these pharaohs in our life.  Like the ancient Israelites, there will be sacrifices for that freedom and we may find ourselves longing for that security of being servants to those pharaohs, of going back to “the way things were”.  While for the Israelites, it was food; for us it may be food, it may be some other form of comfort; but life will continue on or to quote Jurassic Park, “life finds a way”.  God provided food in way of manna for them; for us in our wilderness that we wander through, God is providing in some shape or way.  I am not ignorant of the struggles or hardships that many go through and how it seems that prayers go unanswered or food not provided for.  Many of these problems are results of the pharaohs in our lives, literal pharaohs who are and will be dealt with if they do not let the Defender of orphans and widows’ people go.  Justice will flow like a river and the corruption will be obliterated by whatever force God decides to do this with, whether it be by climate change, by open revolt, or some force yet to be seen.

Tying in with today’s gospel reading, Jesus says that he’s the true bread of heaven.  That all who partake of him will never perish.  While yes there is one meaning that be taken away from this of worshipping Jesus and you’ll live forever in heaven; I don’t think that’s what was meant here.  I think what was meant here was that following his way of life you would never die on the inside; you would never be meaningless.  During this time, if you were considered a shamed, you were pretty much regarded as dead.  Jesus himself was a shamed person, he was literally the child of an unwed teenage mother born in a filthy barn.  While bread sustains the body, we need more than bread; we need meaning and purpose, a recognition of our humanity.  While the Church history has been particularly nasty to queer people, secular culture isn’t completely off the hook.  While we are no longer considered mentally ill, our stories and lives are packaged and shipped as products to be consumed to an audience that is hungry for our stories, and this wouldn’t be a problem if our stories were actually told.  What’s typically packaged as queer perspectives are pre-packages assumptions and prejudges about how others think we live our lives in a way that pigeon holes us as just “queer” and nothing more to us.   While I am proud of being a queer and trans, these are just aspects of myself, I would dare even say Sephiroths as long as no one here saw me as being blasphemous for using such a description.  These terms do describe me and are a major part of who I am but they are not me in my totality.

As we come together as one body and one spirit we create a more holistic picture of not only who God is but also what it means for his Kingdom to be here now.  Many parts, one body.  Many perspectives, one spirit.  I know that my perspective is quite limited and while I may be very knowledgeable; I know that in the grand picture my thoughts are a drop in the bucket.  But many drops, will fill a bucket.  Many snowflakes create an avalanche.  What is regarded as worthy will be considered shameful and what is shameful will be worthy.  This is the first will be last and the last will be first.  I’m ready now to share my voice as part of the church to and contribute to a fuller picture of who God is and what the Kingdome is like.  I hope that other queer people of faith will join me in name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  Amen

[i-am-1134]

The Lady of Light

In the year of my 4th 6, I worked with a man at a barbeque shop that I ended up giving many names starting with ginger and eventually Red being that he had natural red hair and so as an ice breaker I liked filling his head with celtic lore and stories of red headed giants, attempting to break through his firm stances of skepticism. He had a very healthy way of dealing with knowledge, someone who clearly had no internal dispute with cognitive dissonance. I would draw conversations into topics leading to a frame of reference for some of my “bizzare” theories. Like clockwork he would say a little something like “Bullshit, total bullshit. Show me some proof.” in which id find a direction of knowledge to lead the way. He would come back and say either “Ok you got a point there.” or “I see where you get your ideas now but there are holes”. Once I figured out how open he was willing to be we began swapping hallucinogenic trips stories and he eventually said “Have you done dmt?” I answered “ Ive never even heard of it.” then he followed with some personal stories of his own. I was thinking it sounded like the helpers in psilocybin mushrooms on mega steroids and equipped with even deeper soul revelations. I was very interested at this point and just like that he said “You wanna try it?” and so a week or so later he invited me over to his place to partake.

The setting was just right, a perfect chill in the air and at the cusp of Twilight, a synchronosity with my time of power and 2 days after my date of birth. Red Began with an instruction on how to use it “ take two big hits if you just want the experience, 3 or 4 if you got the courage, and don't ride the flame.”. So going by his instruction it became obvious that sticking to my golden rule when dealing with hallucinogens and doing more than the doctor prescribes, 5 it was. He set me up on a couch in his living room facing a 9 foot window with the shades down barely seeping through the nights light, he said “Im gonna turn off the lights and leave you here with yourself.” I said “Alone? That's cool.” wondering why. Red replied with an assurance that its the best way.

With a bowl of pot and some of these yellow tiny crystals piled on top I thought “here we go” and began taking my puffs. The taste and the smell was potent, really embrassive to the nostrils yet familiar and the smoke was hard to hold in, coughing every hit.

Out of nowhere I became very aware of my hearing and focused on this sound. I then realized I was hearing my awareness and its pitch was getting higher and higher. My Whole body felt as if it had come alive with some engulfing force and every cell in my body was expressing a fraction of my awareness while bathing in it. Suddenly my attention was drawn to these eyes popping in and out of my surroundings. They would appear closed, open, peer into me, and then disappear. Following were shapes that were swiftly changing different colors and started off as the common platonic shapes but then became strange never before seen shapes with strange curves throughout glistening the colors of the rainbow one by one yet even quicker and like that, everything went away and the whole room was dark.

“What the hell happened, is this it?” I thought to myself when a light in front of me caught my eye. It was like light coming through the creases of a door. At that point I had come to realize that what was once Red's 9 ft window with blinds was now a huge metallic looking double door arched at the tops and was what appeared to be opening, letting in more of these rays of high yellow- golden light and revealing strange engravements all over it. A shield with something in some in-discernable language to me now forgotten, a sword that appeared to have flames coming off of it, two serpents on each door side going all the way to the top that looked like they were slithering down the door. I thought to myself that it must be because of the shadows on the doors surface due to the light coming through it as the doors were opening. The word Adonai engraved at the top of the door just above the shield that were both being cut in half as the door opened.

A silhouette made out of scintillating golden light in the shape of a woman appeared in the opening and began putting her foot down out of the door way. As her foot took each step downward it became clearer to me that she was walking down a crystal stair case and every step she took her shape became not only more clearer, solid looking but was changing appearance. Her feet, her legs, hips, stomach, breasts, shoulders, hands, her neck, her hair, and even all of her facial features were changing every step she took down the crystal staircase. When the morphing was over I was looking at the most gorgeous woman I had ever seen and realized that this creature was looking for my un-dividable attention and when I say that it had it, I really mean had it. When she reached the bottom of the stairs she began to crawl to me on hands and knees, popping her shoulder blades up and down like a lion or a puma. The whole time with her eyes fixated on mine and it felt like she was peering at something right through me and behind me or deep within me, she gave a quick half cocked suspicious like smile and disappeared within a flash of an eye.

All of a sudden I saw myself flying through the door way at the speed of thought and the surrounding became very incomprehensible. Seemed as if its was an environment filled with billions of electrical currents chaotically going each and every way and as quick as it came it was gone. In an instant the surroundings became a lush jungle all around me and all the trees and plants were luminescent with rich gold light streams. It seemed that the lights were responsible for the makeup of their forms. Flowers appeared to bloom out and retract back in a synchronized fashion with one another and at the speed of my heart beat. It was like the whole jungle was swaying back and forth to the beat of my breathe. There was a stream of water translucent yet emanating gold filaments of light that appeared to flow upstream as its current flowed down. It encapsulated me for what seemed to be quite a long time when my attention suddenly peered across the stream at a cluster of gold mushrooms. The golden mushrooms were so brilliant I couldn't help but smile. As I fixated on them I started thinking to myself how delicate they must be, like the wings of a golden moth. I look up from the ground and spot a big golden toadstool in the middle and sitting on top was the woman, sitting with her legs crossed and back in her original golden silhouette.

At that moment, like a lotus flower blooming in the middle of my mind space, I received what I was to come to know as a telepathic message. Each petal was like a linear conversation that I quickly found out that I could easily decipher into a coherency I could store in memory. It was as if my entire interaction with her was pre-written somehow beyond the confines of time.

The message made me realize even more the familiarity I was having with this place and the mysterious creature that appeared as a human woman. I said in my mind “Who are you?” and through the lotus message I heard “through the many ages it took you to get back here and who I am is what you want to know?” I never realized it before but at that moment I had this profound remembrance of an age old personal history and was witnessing it in it's totality and became embarrassed of my question. “Thotek” I heard and at that same instant I recollected where I actually was. I was at the point of all knowing, absolutely anything that can possibly be known was at my door step, all I had to do was ask the question. I became nervous with haste I realized that the golden jungle was fading as their luminosity was fading, so was she, and the force that I had been feeling engulfing me was beginning to wane.

“Quickly, you don't have the energy to stay here.” she said and I knew the substance was wearing off. I was completely unprepared for this gift of a lifetime and I was blowing it and I knew I was blowing it. I decided quickly and thought to her “ How do I assemble my light saber?” and “What am I ?” I heard a soft closed mouth type female chuckle that left me contemplating on the feeling of how this creature was close to me someway and out of nowhere I watched a lightsaber being assembled out of thin air. There were three main parts made out of a complexity of many parts and I realized almost instantaneously that my previous research was way off and amounted to a pile of shit. It was overwhelming but was quickly taken from me for a time because of what happened next.

The Next thing I remember I was back on the couch, no door in front of me and pitch black yet I could still see a faint dark blue hue of the living room like a silhouette of everything making it up. I was overwhelmed and depressed, I just got the greatest gift I probably will ever know and I blew it and like that a vortice appeared. It seemed to grow pretty significant in size and then a snout came through it, followed by a head, and a long body, it was a dragon, a chinese style dragon and its entire form looked like it was formed of some kind of glowing smoke. Its whiskers, its eyes, its scales, absolutely everything that made this dragon was in full detail and it was moving very slow with an enthralling grace. Another vortice opened up in front of it and it started going through when I notice another vortice and another, until the entire room was filled with this dragon going in and out of them.

“don't be afraid, if you feel ready reach out and touch.” I heard in my mind. Its power was great I could feel it. I put what felt was my hand out and became very intimidated and much to frightened so I pulled my hand back in.

At that moment a vortice opened right in front of me and I saw the dragon coming out right at me but slowly. I couldn't seem to move my body and began to brace myself for impact in the hopes of it being enough for whatever was about to come. It opened its mouth wide, it looked as if it could swallow me in one gulp and right when my upper body was within its jaws I was completely back in this reality. The last remanance of the dragon appeared as smoke swaying past my cheek and the feeling of a tingly cold energy running throughout my entire body to my core and exiting through what felt like two unseen or etheric appendages off my upper back. All I could muster out of my mouth was “......WOOOH....”

[angstymarshmallow]

Day Four “Awake” (Drake x MC)

[A little note: Still writing and wondering how this’ll all end…]

[Summary:  Drake has lasted nearly an entire week without going outside. On the fourth day, he has a talk with Liam that changes his perspective.]

[Day One, Day Two, Day Three]

It was the fourth day since Robyn left that Drake managed to convince himself he could venture outside again. He remained mostly indoors up until this point, dodged the outside events Liam had to partake in by keeping his presence to a minimum at most. 

While Liam had been busy working out the finer details of his wedding plans, he was busy nursing frequent alcohol.

It was during dinner he decided to leave the safe harbor of the manor. He was listening as usual to Liam and Maxwell’s ramblings, but found himself so lost in their conversation that eventually he had given up altogether. They tried to involve him as much as they could, but he preferred to be the one listening than being listened. 

As soon as the last plate was taken by the kitchen staff, and people begun shifting to speak to one another; Drake had uttered poor excuses and stood to leave.

He ignored the careful exchanges that passed between Liam and Maxwell, after he declined their offer to join them. Liam’s eyes had lingered on him so much that Drake had to fight the urge to flinch by his incessant staring.

He needed to reassure his best friend that he would be okay, even if he didn’t really believe it himself. He reassured them thinly that he needed to clear his head, when really all he wanted to do was escape from prying eyes that seemed to pity him.

He kept close to the manor at first, touring the grounds and digging his hands into the folds of his pockets. He took little comfort knowing that his flask was with him.

When he found a comfortable looking spot, he sat cross legged; not caring about the asphalt. He watched the stars in quiet contemplation. 

Seeing them like this was a little bit different from seeing them sober. He couldn’t for instance, make out the big dipper in his state – not clearly anyway. He couldn’t really decipher most of the constellations he had wanted to look for.

He was trying to return to his regular routine, the routine he had carefully cultivated before he met her. He took his favourite horse from the stables in the morning with a terribly bad hungover. He and Liam had gone for an early afternoon jog, but none of it helped. The last thing he had to himself was star-gazing and even that wasn’t providing the relief he needed. Instead, he watched them simply because he didn’t know what else he had left.

“So this where you went off to.”

Drake glanced up to meet the prince’s tentative smile. He hadn’t heard him on approach and he stiffened as the man sat beside him. “Liam, you shouldn’t be out here.” He muttered, “don’t you have an early morning tomorrow?”

“Every morning is an early morning.” Liam responded, sighing tiredly. “But what kind of a person would I be if I ignored my best friend?”

Drake shrugged, keeping silent.

Liam bumped his shoulder, “My best friend who’s so obviously in pain?” He prompted.

Drake stilled beside him. At first, he didn’t know what to say.

Liam waited in silence.

Drake sighed, forcing his shoulders to relax before answering. “I’m not…” He begun slowly, “I’m fine.”

“If you call being drunk at five in the afternoon fine then I would hate to see you upset.” Liam muttered dryly. “And it’s now eight,” he glanced at his watch absently, “and you’re still drunk.”

“I am not drunk.” Drake’s tone was indignant. Mostly, anyway. He was just…not sober.

Liam’s eyebrows arched, “Your breath practically reeks of whiskey.”

A tic formed in Drake’s jaw. “Okay, okay. I may have drank too much yesterday.”

“And today.” Liam added.

He scowled, “and today.”

“But that’s all going to change,” Liam said, patting his friend on the back. “I’m not letting you waste away anymore.” His expression softened, “I don’t want to see you like this when I know how we can solve it.”

Drake was nearly too afraid to ask, so he didn’t. Instead, he stared expectantly, waiting for him to finish.

“I know because it’s kind of hard not to when all of this,” Liam gestured to the flask inside his hand, “begun soon after she left.”

Drake blew out the breath he was holding. He looked away from him. He hated the idea of lying, especially to Liam of all people. But he wanted to avoid this conversation at all costs. He was doing a good job of it up until today.

“I know how you feel about her.” Liam mumbled.

His hands reflexively clenched. “I don’t –”

“It’s the same way I’ve been telling myself I feel for her.” A sigh. “Felt about her.” He corrected. “For months – I thought I did anyway, but I was mostly fooling myself,” he lowered his gaze to the ground. “If I didn’t see how she looked at you, in those split seconds before finding her. If her eyes weren’t always searching for you – instead of me…” He trailed off.

Drake sucked in a deep breath, exhaled it slowly before he tried to find the right words he thought he needed to say. “It’s not –” he stopped when he saw the look on Liam’s face. He couldn’t bullshit him. That wasn’t who he was when he was with Liam. They meant too much to each other. 

Blowing out an agitated breath, Drake muttered. “I guess this apology is too late, isn’t it?”

“You have nothing to apologize for.” Liam said, smiling thinly. “It took me months to figure out anyway. This whole time I thought I was in love with her when really I was in love with the idea of her.” He spoke softly, and Drake as often as he was the listener; paid attention to every word. And every word lightened the weight inside his heart. “She was everything I wasn’t, yet everything I longed to be. Free-spirited, courageous – spontaneous,” his face twisted into a bitter smile.  “But I didn’t know the parts of her you knew. She gave you that – not me.” He stood then, brushing dirt off his pants before holding out his hand for Drake to take. “And I see what she’s done for you too, cracked walls you’ve spent years building when it came to someone else, someone that isn’t me. I was jealous,” he admitted softly, “but I was mostly happy that you were letting someone else in.”

Drake’s throat tightened and he cleared it with some effort. “She was too stubborn to shake,” a ghost of a smile touched his lips. “And after awhile, I didn’t want to shake her anymore.” He absently grabbed his flask. “I’m sorry it just took her coming in between us.”

“She didn’t.” Liam interjected, “well not really. There were also other suitors in between us,” he waved his hand superfluously, “and in a weird way I’m happy that she chose you.” He smiled weakly, “you’re a good man Drake.”

Drake uttered a shaky laugh, and felt the earlier tension slowly dissolve from his shoulders. “You’re an even better man Liam,” His lips curved into a half-smile. “You’ve had to put up with me all the years.”

“And you’ve stuck by my side all these years.” Liam added, his smile turning brighter. “Don’t you think you deserve to put your own happiness instead of mine for once?”

“I don’t mind putting your happiness first. Never did.” Drake’s smile disappeared entirely. “Besides, it doesn’t matter how good you think I am, she’s gone and we’re all still here.”

“Not necessarily.” Liam stood then, and handed Drake his phone as he joined him. “I may have noticed while I went hunting for you that you’ve completely destroyed your phone.”

“It was -” he hesitated, “- in a moment of anger.” He laughed a little when he saw the incredulous look on the prince’s face. “I was meaning to get that looked at eventually.”

“Right well, I think you should give her a call.” He patted his shoulder, “probably explain to her what an idiot you’ve been while you’re at it.”

Drake’s brow creased into a line of worry. “But what if she doesn’t want to see me?” He hesitated. “…what if she hates me?” 

“You won’t know unless you try.” Liam insisted, studying his friend’s expression. “You’re good for her, and seeing you like this made me realize she’s good for you too.” He added, eyeing the flask.

“I don’t know what to say…” Drake mumbled, dragging his hands through his hair. “All this time I’ve just been dangling off that edge…of not saying anything and wanting to say something.” He lowered his gaze, “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too.” Liam reached out first, embracing his friend into a hug.

Drake’s arms came up a second later. The weight lifted entirely, and he sighed as relief washed over him. 

When they pulled away, Liam was smiling - not the kind of smile he showed everyone, but a private one of understanding, and relief that he had gotten this from off his chest too. “Now go get her, and send my apologies with you.”

-

[theletterformallyknownasq]

Xochi - August 17th, 2018

Me: So, this is the first interview for The Letter Formally Know As "Q". You are my first interviewee. Very excited to kick off the series with you. Can you tell our listeners who we are speaking with today?

Xochi: I am Xochi De La Luna. X-O-C-H-I D-E L-A L-U-N-A.

Me: This wasn't originally a part of the line of questioning, but, how did you get your name? Xochi: So, the names that I chose for myself. After playing around with pronouns, given and chosen names, I realized that my government name didn't really suit me. Especially because people didn't see me the way that I wanted to be seen when I went by that name. As much as I already had this understanding that that name also is me, and regardless of what people thought, I still wanted to align with that. I was also going through a really long period of not talking to my mother. Like a year or something. And so when I chose my [new] name, I wanted it to reflect indigeneity. Xochi from the Nahuatl language, which means "Flower" and De La Luna, "Of The Moon," because we're all children of the moon, we're all under the moon. So that really spoke to me. Me: How do you identify? Pronouns? But also feel free to include other ways that you define yourself. Xochi: I consider myself a nonbinary transgender person. I am agender. Some people might equate that with gender fluid, gender queer, and they would be kind of right. Because identity is in everybody individually, right? A nonbinary person might be different from another nonbinary person. Personally, I never really felt connected to any of these titles of what my father had taught me as being a man. Manhood. All that stuff and I never really quite felt part of womanhood either. Even though I was raised by my mom and aunts and great aunt. So, I don't think there is a binary. I feel like a lot of people feel all sorts of ways about their gender. What would bug me is if somebody called me like ‘man,' ‘dude,' things of masculine nature. If somebody called me 'girl' depending on the day, they wouldn’t be wrong. Me: I feel that. 100%. Feeling neither here or there. Speaking of, where is your family from? Xochi: My family is from El Salvador and I have a father who is half Salvadoran, half Mexican. Never met him. We came here as first generation immigrants when I was a baby and my mother was like 17. Me: And what brought you and your family to Minnesota? Xochi: Well, we had been living in Texas and my stepdad was a storm chaser - not in the cool way - he would chase storm damage from hurricanes and tornadoes and whatnot and get construction work - exterior restoration. And that's what brought us to Minnesota because there was huge amounts of work from this big tornado that tore through the suburbs like Apple Valley, Northside [Minneapolis], Bloomington, Minneapolis. All the affluent suburbs and parts of the [Twin] cities, so there was a lot of work. Well-paying work. People really do pay well here compared to a lot of other places in the [American] South where we were at. So my father came up here chasing and he ended up liking it. He ended up bringing the rest of the family up here. We bounced around a lot, but eventually came back to Minnesota because it was the best place out of all the other places when it came to school systems, to feeling safe, or at least my family's definition of safe. Me: What is your family's definition of safe? Xochi: That's a good question! I still wonder that myself. You know? Because a lot of my childhood was deciphering the culture that I was growing up in and the culture that I was being raised in. You know what I mean? Like there's two different cultures here. There's the American culture that I'm being raised around and that's what's influencing me when it comes to media and whatnot. And then there's also the other side of my immigrant culture that I'm also trying to decipher because I'm like a ghost of both worlds. My parents don't know how to explain American culture and American culture does not know how to explain to me about my immigrant culture.

Xochi: So I'm stuck deciphering all that. And to this day, I really don't know what their definition of safety is other than shelter. Being able to be fed, right? They really embody the values that the American people thought they had in the [19]50s, and they're still grasping onto that which I personally see as a society that's crumbling that wasn't made for us. Even though they’ve brainwashed us to think that we can and are able to adapt to this affluent white man society. Me: Or assimilate. So, what has kept you here? Not even necessarily just because of your family, but for yourself? Xochi: Yeah. After a while I was living on my own and I was tired of moving and having to build community because that's what I think is important. Building community. Because that's your chosen family. That everybody can feel good about how everybody is interacting with the world. Community is great for people like me who don't have a family. Not that I am not curious about other places because being the type of immigrant that I am under NACARA, I was granted a sort of asylum for Salvadorans. And so there's a lot of places I wish I could visit outside of the United States. I would probably go on a prolonged visit to another country, probably El Salvador or Guatemala or something like that. But I can't really leave right now. Me: So what do you do for a living? Xochi: I never really understood the term 'working artist' until it was pretty much forced on me. And what I mean is not that I didn't choose to be an artist and create artwork and whatnot. I couldn’t get employed part time. And I was kinda good at things on stage so I tried getting into a play. Second, third call backs. I felt pretty good about it and I kept doing it for a while. I was spending all this money, I needed to get into something. So I was doing side gigs like bike delivery and whatnot. Doing standup comedy and from standup comedy I ended up doing improv and from improv I ended up doing puppet plays with a troupe.They’re actually a band. They call themselves Bella Yaga and they also do puppet shows with their music which is how I got into doing things DIY. I went through a really big period of homelessness while I was trying to figure this out. A few months here and there, I got stable housing for like 1-3 months. Then the longest pocket was eight months and it was necessary to get to the point that I'm at where the art that I'm doing, the crafts that I've picked up on in the last couple of years, they're actually feeding me and keeping me housed, but it's taken a lot of work. And every day is a work day. Every hour unfortunately is a work hour. But out of all the other jobs that immigrants have to do, I'm lucky. That's how I see it. Me: What gives you joy? Xochi: What gives me joy nowadays? A lot of things. In my personal life, things going off without a hitch. Right? That's always a joy. But also my work affecting anyone else, that gives me great joy. Or like being affected by someone else's work. I'm not just talking about art like on a stage or my paintings. But like work in general. I wanted to meet with you at the Plaza because there’s a mural by these two different collaborators, these face murals of Pangea and they created this big beautiful mural of the community around here and around East Lake Street. I think it's awesome. That stuff gives me joy. People holding little celebrations or doing a ritual, that gives me joy. Partaking in people's rituals. Them taking a moment to teach me this passion of theirs gives me joy. Seeing people realize that the lies that society tells them that you know aren't real - that gives me joy. Society inadvertently or not tells you so many things, like “Only special people can do special things,” “only special people can create and only special people paint,” “only special people can do that kind of job.” When people realize that's bullshit and they just have to do the work to get there and they do it and they're thriving, or at least like reveling in the fact that they've realized something, gives me joy. Me: So with that said, what does Queer mean to you? Xochi: To me, this understanding that there are things that I'm interested in or identify that society doesn't believe half the time and Queer is just an easier way to combine all these different thoughts and feelings. Even though you know we all want to be seen completely and like complex individuals. But I feel like Queer is more than just sexuality. It's more than just identity. It's environment. It's a feeling as well. For instance - being transgender, being nonbinary, being pansexual, or bisexual nowadays - I don't know which one to use because people have their definitions for either and I feel like a little bit of both of those especially since I'm a nonbinary person. What does that make me if I like a man or a woman or a transgender person or a nonbinary person? It's not really a word. So we use bisexual, pansexual sometimes. I respect everybody who says that it's still a slur to them and they don't feel comfortable with it. But to me, it's a celebration. There's nothing wrong with being any of those things that people will lump under Queer and as an insult.

Me: And to follow up with that question, what do you like or don't like about the mainstream definition of Queer? Because you were addressing that in your last answer.  Xochi: What I like and don't like?  Me: Or you just don't fucking like it. I don't like it. It's not all encompassing of my identity and feelings. Xochi: There's a sense of dissatisfaction for me. I don't hate it. But Queer spaces that I've held here for the most part have been pretty good experiences thus far. Because I think once you get too comfortable with that idea that 'Oh this place is labeled as Queer, so it's going to be safe.' You go there expecting it to go a certain way. So that people start taking things for granted and then start breaking their own rules, right? Like, we go to a Queer dance party and no one's asking if they can touch you. Because there's this idea that you're at this Queer dance party, so you must be Queer and I'm Queer, so it's okay that I touch you because we're both Queer. Like no. Not at all. Doesn't make sense at all. I feel like that kind of goes into this whole gatekeeper mentality. Which is frustrating too because then there are some people that are using Queer as a fad.

Me: Like dress up. Costumes. Xochi: Yeah. I don't think I've ever personally ran into someone like that but, you know, when you start questioning everybody’s identity, it gets exhausting. Queer is a hard thing to define. Me: You said it was complex and layered. What you like about it is that it's not constructive or limiting, so, I hear you. How does your family's culture define Queer? Xochi: *laughs* I don't really think there is much of a distinction between Queer and homosexual [in my family’s culture]. My family's Latinx culture, which I have seen as a pattern in other people’s Latinx experience when I try to connect to people and try to make community for Latinx people. Because we're a massive umbrella. Latinx. I have my own issues with that umbrella too. From what I've talked to other the people in my own family, they don't really get Queer. They don't get anything past homosexual and lesbian. [My mother] is barely getting transgender. Which is cool that she's like really trying to understand that. And we've been doing it through the lens of talking about our ancestors, not just the indigenous ancestors but the Spanish. And then also going into this toxic celebration of the white patriarchy that I've seen in the Latinx media that I've seen in tele novellas that I've seen my mom uphold. So my mom's understanding of Queer is it's just another thing like homosexuals and lesbians. Even my Chicana aunts who were raised here in Texas and California, their understanding isn't 100% either. Everyone's proximity to a definition of understanding is very Queer I feel like. What was their first encounter with it? What was their next encounter? How did they internalize it? Was there a filter? Was it distorted? And those things are ingrained and no one's refuting you. No one's coming in and stopping and saying, “Hey this isn't it.” So, when someone does, they go, “no no -- consensus says something different.” Me: Two more questions. Xochi: Sure. Me: Ok. Technically three. Describe the moment you recognized your true form of identity. Like, what was kind of the tipping point that affirmed you, you're holding this, this is your truth, etc? Xochi: Ok. Yeah. It was after that whole moment of deciding that name, that chosen one, the name that felt complete. For a long time, I was like 'why would I change my name?' Like, this is the name that I was given and fucks with people’s ideas of what this name is and living that name for longer and being like 'no it really doesn't work.' And then going into that process of choosing the name that I have now because De La Luna was already chosen like a year before I made a decision to go by Xochi. I don't remember exactly who it was that I saw do their thing, but it was when I matched my first nonbinary person on Tinder. I was like ‘Oh great. Finally.” It's not just cis women who wants to try to validate their Queerness through me but they're seeing me as a human. This person is someone like me. So I went on a date with them. We've been homies since the start. It was really strange. It didn't lead to romance or any sort of sexual emotion but it was a nice day. We biked around, we helped out a couple of homeless people, and then I found out that they were an agender person. And I was like ‘oh what's that like? I consider myself gender fluid right now like but I'm also still pretty confused.’ And they explained it to me. And I can't even remember that explanation. I just remember being like 'that makes so much sense.' And that just ruminated in my mind. There are a series of people in this town that have influenced me in different ways when it comes to my gender. There is Cullen - who goes by Jenna Cis - who first did this gender fuckery bit in a basement that I saw. It was like this drag-like piece about some sort of wild child. Like, Russian wild child, disobeying their mother or something. It was just like ‘wow who is this person.’

Xochi: But then I see people like Marcela. Seeing Pedro Pepa - another dancer/burlesque and drag artist. The way that they embodied themselves in performance, this whole Agender thing really clicked and I was like 'that's it', you know? And then I was like I need a name. And so it took a while but then I chose Xochi. It doesn't strike me as one way or another. You could meet whoever and they could tell you their name is Xochi and you would be inclined to believe them. Some people still question me about what's my real name and I would of course respond ‘yeah it's my real name.’ I mean it's ancient. Me: And it's you! You affirm it. No one but you can affirm your truths. Xochi: Oh, for sure. People see it and they don't have any connotations of what this name means. So they’re like ‘is this name real?’ And I love that actually! I mean I don't care if they think it's real or not. Me: It's Queer as fuck. So, two more questions. What's it like to be a trans, agender, nonbinary, Latinx person that's living and working in Minnesota? How has this environment impacted you and your identity? Xochi: Well. It makes me question all the time if I have imperialist nostalgia. I'm not gonna lie, after a while getting the performances that I do sometimes, I feel tokenized. Not by one person or place necessarily, but just after a while, all these places wanted me because of this specific niche that I fill. So I felt incredibly tokenized. I really want that whole sense of people understanding and realizing and learning of the culture and also my identity. But how do you deal without tokenizing yourself? And that's something that Renato Rosaldo wrote about in an essay. Me: You don't feel completely seen? Is that what you're saying? Xochi: Yeah. Me: If you could address the most influential public figures and decision makers in the state right now, what would you say about your experience building home in Minnesota? Xochi: OK. If I had the people who I see as leaders in the community like Roxanne Anderson, people like Sharon Day, who has the New Native Theater, people like Lisa Brimmer, who now holds a huge position at the Cedar Cultural Center, and other people like that, right? With all the other public heads like Jacob Frey, I would hope that we could come together to explain to the people who are making the policies that aren't led by community and aren't led by people that are immigrants, people that are Black, Brown Indigenous, is so incredibly important. And that the way that everything has been going needs to change because it’s just trying to fit a square peg into a round hole. With so many other things in the system and this government, it's just not really working. And for instance, 55% of the money that the arts board gets is sent to 12 organizations and those include the Walker Art Center and Guthrie and probably the Ordway because opera and ballet are super funded and they're very expensive works. Where places like Intermedia, Patrick's that closed that were holding these people who are underrepresented, underfunded public spaces, these places are closing or gone completely. It's a strange way to divert that money to those organizations, a way to divert that money into community-led arts. Seeing more things in public would be great. Because at least, in my opinion, most art is inherently political. That's one really great way to initiate change, for it to be seen publicly and through art. Things that are made, to change representation so that people get more comfortable with each other, sharing of each other's culture. It's not just Minnesota, but the entire United States. Immigration reform needs to happen and not in the way that the country has been doing for the last 100+ years. Right? It was built on immigration and it was built on imperialism and there's no space for that anymore. So why continue on with the way that things have been? Stop penalizing people for wanting to work. Stop making it difficult for people to live. Me: Yes. Thank you. So much.

[hanzi83]

Gang Stalking

It seems like the transparency is at an all time high than usual. It is a shame I cannot talk to my friends or family about these things personally. I have to go through different people who seem to politicize their position to me and it feels like overtures that are made are not genuine. I become frightened to talk to people I know, because they have thrown my mental illness back at me throughout my life. I am so fearful of all this and they know it, which is why people can be more transparent and get away with it. I wonder do they want me to flat out just state my theories, or are they trying to push me to suicide. I wonder if there is an investment for me to attempt it.

Let’s say whatever I have tweeted out or said in the past is true that I have been enlisted in a gang stalking program because they have just cause to do so if they can tell their superiors that they suspect someone such as myself to be a trouble maker because I am outspoken about my theories, when I should probably keep that on the low, but I am so far gone that it doesn’t matter anymore. No one believes these programs exist, because in media, television, movies etc, they present life as just people being normal for the most part and then there is a fringe conspiracy going on, but it is never showing you how everything is interconnected together to facilitate each other. It is like people are adamant in thinking that there is nothing beneath the surface, and even when they present something beneath the surface it comes within limits. So here is quick recap of what gang stalking is according to online sources, but keep in mind this could all just be some online propaganda I have probably felt for, but it seems like the secretive nature has made it so much more clearer over the last couple of years.

This is what I got from urban dictionary. It seems to resonate with me because it feels like it has been going on with me to some extent, but again I can’t prove it, and before someone points out I am reading something from online sites that have no merit, I realize it could all be bullshit, or maybe it is implemented online on purpose because it is supposed to catch traction. I am unsure, but again for all I know this is just my delusions kicking in.

Gang stalking is simply a form of community mobbing and organized stalking combined. Just like you have workplace mobbing, and online mobbing, which are both fully recognized as legitimate, this is the community form. 

Gang stalking is organized harassment at it's best. It the targeting of an individual for revenge, jealousy, sport, or to keep them quite, etc.  It's organized, widespread, and growing. Some describe this form of harassment as, "A psychological attack that can completely destroy a persons life, while leaving little or no evidence to incriminate the perpetrators."  2. Who gets targeted  The people getting targeted seem to be (single) woman, minorities, outspoken individuals, whistle blowers, dissidents, people who have gone against large corporations, etc.  3. Goals of this hate campaign.  The goal is to sensitize the target to stimuli, isolate the target, and make them destitute. The secondary goals seem to be to make the target homeless, jobless, give them a breakdown, and the primary goals seem to be to drive the target to suicide.  4. Who gang stalks? The surprising thing is that gang stalkers can be found in every level of society. There is no real age barrier, gender barrier, and a variety of races do participate. In almost every occupation in society you can find people who are going along with this.  Gang stalking for many is seen as a game, a sport to be played with another individuals life. Many do not understand or care that the end consequence of this game is to destroy a person.  5. Why they gang stalk.  "It is not conceivable that the participants in the harassment don't even know why the person has been targeted, nor would most of these individuals have any personal stake in harassing the victim.  - Gang stalking is an both an addictive behavior as well as a form of entertainment for the stalkers. There is a vicious kind of pleasure that they derive from bullying their victim. Clearly they like the feeling of being "in control".  Like our society's current obsession with "reality TV", this activity must inevitably gain popularity as the ultimate experience of "reality" entertainment. To the perpetrators, their��targets are merely their prey, in a game that never ends. But make no mistake, whatever the reasoning behind it, this is a vicious and calculated hate crime."  -Others are blackmailed or forced into talking part in this activity.  -Others go along with it because they want to fit in and feel part of something that is large and powerful.  -Some are part of community groups who believe they are targeting an undesirable. -Some are part of the informant groups within cities.  6. Methods used against targets.  a) Classical conditioning.  Getting a target sensitized to sounds, colors, patterns, actions. Eg. Red, white, yellow, strips, pens clicking, key jangling, coughing, sneezing, whistling, fingerssnapping, clapping, etc.  b)24/7 Surveillance  This will involve following the target everywhere they go. Learning about the target, where they shop, work, play, who their friends and family are. Getting close to the target, moving into the community or apartment where they live, across the street, bugging targets phone, house, and computer activity.  c) Isolation of target.  This is done via slander campaigns, and lies. Eg. Saying the target is a thief, into drugs, a prostitute, pedophile, crazy, in trouble for something, needs to be watched. False files will even be produced on the target, shown to neighbors, family, store keepers.  d) Noise and mimicking campaigns.  Disrupting the targets life, sleep with loud power tools, construction, stereos, doors slamming, talking in public about private things in the targets life, and mimicking actions of the target. They are basically letting the target know that they are in the targets life. There is daily interferences, nothing that would be too overt to the untrained eye, but psychologically degrading and damaging to the target over time.  e) Everyday life breaks and street theatre.  There are flat tires, putting dirt on targets property. There are mass strangers doing things in public to annoy targets. These strangers might get text messaged to be at a specific time and place, and perform a specific action. If might seem harmless to these strangers, but it could be causing great psychological trauma for the target. They will do things like blocking targets path, getting ahead of them in line, cutting or boxing them in on the road, saying or doing things to elicit a response from targets. Etc.  Gang stalking is an illegal form of harassment.  However when targets seek help they still get quite a bit of resistance. Some people in today's society even try to pass gang stalking off as a form of paranoia, even though the meetings in Toronto are held out of the Toronto Rape Crisis Center and many woman's support groups and crisis centers are now aware of gang stalking, and even training their workers to deal with this form of harassment.  I have felt this has happened with me over the past several years, especially the more I resisted giving into the system, and now my reputation has been reduced to a guy in his mom’s basements who doesn’t do anything and is not relevant, even though they send people to harass me. I am not the only target apparently, but knowing that this is a possibility doesn’t sit well with me, and I can’t do anything about it, and people in my life can’t say anything and it gives them the luxury of using my own mental illness against me. It scares me that people I grew up with, or people I once respected could be forced to doing something so evil, and who is telling them to do it?

Every day I have to wake up and wonder what exactly is going on and pushing my mental stability to a next fucking level and whenever anything good happens to me seemingly, they will block me from ever getting anything because they need themselves to be a part of it. They will never explain how much association they have with other fucking people in the industry or the connections they have. I get tickets to a comedy show, and it becomes a big deal where it feels like I am coordinated not to be let there, because then I would ask questions and these people can’t answer them. It is becoming clearer that these people don’t really like me, but they still insist that I be here.

I ask you why? Why do you need me to be here? You will send trolls to give me generalizations of how important I am to the bigger goal, and then tell me things will be okay, but it won’t be okay because these people have already made me so deeply mentally ill and they have the luxury of pretending. No matter what I do, they win. I don’t say anything they get away with their secrecy yet transparency and even their snide remarks that are subtle to show off that there was a gathering I was not invited to, or having me out there so they can make money for recordings of me. I feel like they even have my old camera footage etc as well. I don’t know if any of this is true.

Who will believe me though? No one, certainly no one in the media, no one will touch this story because seemingly there is no proof to any of this. I don’t want to feel this way about people I knew but what other choice do I have, when all I get are generalizations of how much people I know love me and they want the best for me. It doesn’t seem like it. You are not happy with your connections, your new found friendships, and the community orgies you probably partake in, but you still have to make a mentally ill person feel even more mentally ill, where the only platforms he has he has to use as an excuse to bitch like middle school child lashing out about everything. The scary part is how many of these industry types, who know what is going on, just sit back behind the scenes and laugh at it, because that is how they cope with them being mental slaves to a bigger master, and need to take it out on others via sock puppet accounts and fake names so they can get away with saying the most fucked up things to someone.

I closed my twitter accounts. I closed my face book account. I know some people on Tumblr are seeing this, not very many followers on here but I am sure they will see this anyways. No one will address it because no one can admit they watch what I do or read what I am writing, but this won’t make a lick of difference. This is just designed for me to express it out there. Maybe if someone else gets to read this, it might help them if they are going through something familiar. No one will fucking ever help me out of this and whoever they send me to, will be under their choosing because they need to be in the loop with everything I think and say. They control that shit, but no one will ever fucking say anything about it and these seemingly well adjusted human beings who are in the media will just make you seem crazier and just laugh it off because they are the ones who are mentally ill.

I need to escape all of this and not care about wrestling, hip hop, politics, television, podcasts, movies, comedy etc and just never care about anything from all of this. I don’t want to partake in this anymore, especially when they have mentally submitted me for the last several years while my own friends and family show off how much I am out of the loop and don’t seem to care about me or how I react to this, and this is why I lash out in my personal journals, on social media, or in these blogs because I know they are watching, and I know they discuss it. Everyone who has a stake in this do it.

I feel I have nothing for myself anymore. Everything has been stolen from me. I could be wrong about every single thing, but even if I am not, I know it will always be designed to make me feel like I am wrong about everything. It will always feel like I am a part of some reality show. It feels like because I haven’t reached out to certain people, I am being punished full throttle and they have been making it more obvious about it. They really love making me feel like a piece of shit and will still find ways to do it. They will act nice and act civil, but there is barely any discussion to be had with me anymore. So I ask of you, can you please just let me go away and just have my peace. You already given all of this shit to others, and you have let people digitally harass me in an organized fashion. How much more do you want me to go through? Is this your goal? Is this your goal, for me to just attempt suicide? Is that how sick everyone who has partaken in this experiment is? People I grew up with would actually do this to me?

I don’t want to live to find out, but I have to be here because I am not going to be radicalized or let myself to succumb to hurting myself. I think about it a lot, and wonder to see if I did attempt it, would they let me go, or would they find a way to bring me back because they are the ones who decide when you leave, and as much as I want to, I will never do it. I just wonder if that is what their intention is with me.

Thanks a lot Howard. I know this makes you feel good for what you have done, but don’t worry because no one believes me when I say that a shock jock radio host has this much power and is connected higher up where he and others in your position can arrange for someone’s life to be made into even more shit and holding them back from even accomplishing anything, and then because it doesn’t work out for those people, they give up and it becomes more and more their fault, and you have this luxury to hide all of it and you can prosper in your mansion. I bet even the bad stuff posted about you is in limits. You probably don’t even care about the cats in your house, like the internet keeps perpetuating, just like the perpetuating of correlating your new asshole persona to becoming ���liberal” when you are probably not a liberal, or making it look like a shit job so it gives liberalism a bad name, just like these corporate democrats that do, which is more leaning to the right.

No one will ever expose you. I am just a delusional one who keeps saying fucked up things. Don’t worry no one will ever believe a word I have said. I only have this creativity and I just killed more material I could have used in stand up, but it won’t fucking happen. I don’t even have freedom to go to a comedy club because they will send specific people to come harass me and it will make me look insane, and I am doing a good job at that myself. So you will always be the king of organizing this. I would ask if you feel any remorse but you clearly don’t have your soul with you anymore because you sold that a long time ago.

[nastysnowflake-blog]

Intersectional Feminism

So I was browsing Facebook today, as I often do, when I happened across an album of screenshots. The screenshots were from a Twitter thread started by an indigenous woman who attended the Women’s March in D.C. on Saturday with a group of other native women. The women came dressed in traditional regalia and were prepared with songs and chants for the march. The woman, Hokte as the images said, began her thread with thanks to the organizers and a mention that the experience was invaluable. This quickly degenerated into talks of the toxicity of the movement, “plagued with white supremacy.” She mentioned that many women of color had already criticized the march and that she was disturbed in the moments when she left her prayer circle, her “home” as she called it, to be surrounded by the gaze of white women.

She went on to describe a very uncomfortable experience of being photographed, mocked, of having her culture questioned and of being approached by women who were more interested in fondling her regalia than discussing the fliers she and her partner were handing out. She talked about women walking through their prayer circle and about women approaching them wearing “R*skins” hats (Washington Redskins, a team that has been under fire for its racist depiction of American Natives).

She concludes her thread with a few statements that could be seen as slippery slope fallacies by the uninformed reader (generally anyone who listens to Faux News) and begins angrily attacking the values of all white women in attendance, listing off an experience with a woman who “is from Minnesota” and “knows Indian” because she can name all the lakes as her reason for feeling disrespected, finishing with, “White feminists treat us like we are burdens or that we are divisive. Because it’s inconvenient for you to let go of your whiteness.”

Being a white woman, this should be where I stop and put my tail between my legs and apologize for my support of the feminist movement I’ve been taught about. Being a middle-class, college-educated liberal in a blue state, this is where I should strip myself down and cry, clearly in the wrong.

Bullshit.

I’m not going to sit here and pretend I haven’t been ill-prepared for this moment. I’m not going to deny the inherent privilege I’ve grown up with my entire life being white, and I’m not going to deny that I’ve certainly been blinded by the white-washed education I’ve received. I’m certainly not going to deny that the women partaking in the genitalia-based marching that seemed to flood the social media sphere on Saturday were not excluding literally every other demographic in attendance. “Not all pussies are pink!” No shit they’re not. So let’s get started.

If you search for images of the Women’s March, you’ll undoubtedly be met with wave after wave of women sporting home-made beanies with pointed edges in all shades of pink imaginable. Thus, The Pussy Hat Project. According to their website, the mission of the project is to provide the people of D.C. with a visual statement that will help the activists be heard and to help those who could not be in the National Mall with a way to show their support. The mission statement then breaks into separate sections: “Power in Numbers,” which discusses the imagery that would spawn from every marcher wearing a pink hat, “Power of Pink,” which discusses the societally assigned femininity of the color pink, “Power of Individuality within Large Groups” which allows for varying shades and patterns of hats to show that we don’t have to be identical to be powerful, “Power of the Handmade” which covers the assigned femininity of certain crafts and how this has created a stronger unity among women, and, lastly, “Power of Pussy” which discusses the term that has since been turned into an insult and their desire to reclaim it as a symbol of power and resistance. This section is precisely the section I’d like to focus on.

The Pussy Hat Project has come under fire for being exclusive to white cis-women, or women with pink pussies. Because the color pink was selected it was seen as an attack on women of color, and because the term “pussy” was used it’s been seen as an attack on trans-women or intersex people. The project literally addresses this concern in their mission statement: “Women, whether transgender or cisgender, are mistreated in this society...A woman’s body is her own.” Right, but what about women of color!?

The color pink was literally selected as a statement, not to in some way elude to the color of genitalia. When I was in high school we often had “color war” nights for certain sporting events. A week before the game we’d all agree to wear all red or all black or all white in support of our team, and when the night finally rolled around we would show up in large numbers, looking unified in our goal to win whatever game it was we were playing. The intent with the hats was the same. Create a large group of people that, when seen from higher positions (both literally and figuratively), it appeared to be a unified mass with the intent of “supporting their team.” Pink just happens to be the color many of us are assigned at birth. Had that color been yellow or green the Pussy Hat Project would have patterns involving yellow or green worsted yarn. Not all pussies are green…?

Don’t get me wrong. I understand the necessity of intersectional feminism. I’m not going to pretend that a white feminist is going to have to fight in the same way as a black or latinx feminist. My concern, however, is in taking something as innocent as a knit beanie and dismantling the message. It is literally attempting to be all-inclusive and is somehow still not good enough. Don’t like that the color pink seems like it’s excluding you? Knit a black one. Knit a brown one. Knit a fucking rainbow one, it clearly didn’t matter. The beauty was in the difference. No two vaginas are the same, no two women are the same, and no two hats were the same. I’m sure no one was going to castrate you for showing up in a tan pussy hat, they’d have probably applauded your thoughtfulness with the issue at hand.

Which leads me to my last point, thoughtfulness. Returning to Hokte and her message, I must repeat for the people in the back that I AM A PRIVILEGED WHITE FEMINIST. I have never struggled to be taken as seriously as my counterparts, I have never been told my “costume is really pretty” or had my heritage brought into question. I will never know the struggle for clean drinking water, and I will only know the qualms of being hired second if I’m applying for the same job as a man. I will never be marginalized and stereotyped in the way that many other cultures have been (though there are plenty of stereotypes I face, that’s an argument for another day). That does not mean I cannot stand with you and that I will not support you.

It was her anger that triggered me. It was the way Hokte approached the issue that made me feel so disappointed. It’s the many women of color on my feed who argue and misplace messages that make me feel like nothing I do is safe. I am a child of the white-washed education system. I am born of the feminist movement, thinking it was merely a universal movement for all women to partake in. I was never taught to scrutinize photographs for their diversity, to choose my words carefully so as not to exclude people who do not identify as cis like I do. I was simply taught that if women wanted to fight for equality of the genders, they became feminists. So as I’m learning there are many facets to feminism I’m beginning to notice things like the exclusion of trans and intersex, I’m beginning to notice the silencing of women of color. I can see it. I am trying my best to understand it.

It’s when you attack me for being an uninformed cis white feminist that the power of our movement turns against us. Is that not the argument of those who fight against feminism? We’re constantly angry at those who do not identify as feminist, we call them names, we generalize them, right? At least that’s what they say. So when you perch on your branch of this great tree and shout at those perched on other branches that they’re uninformed, not good enough, and thoughtless, does it not alienate them? Is that not what we’re trying to end?

You have to educate us.

It’s work, and it takes time, and there are always going to be the bandwagon feminists who are simply unteachable. There’s always going to be someone who thinks they know more than they do because they took one women’s studies class during their freshman year of college. There’s always going to be someone who thinks saying, “I guess we’re Indians today!” is a good way to start conversation with the traditionally dressed women beside her. There’s always going to be someone who dresses up as a giant vagina and thinks they’re helping the cause. It’s still worth trying. There are more than a few women in those crowds that marched on Saturday and that are still knitting Pussy Hats (like myself) that would be genuinely interested in learning about your culture and learning how best to include you in our idea of feminism. There are going to be bumps in the road, but rather than call us disrespectful and force us to leave, explain why what we said was wrong and teach us how to work with you rather than against you.

We can make intersectional feminism a reality. You just have to understand that many of us are still fighting with what society has taught us and are blinded by misinformation. Help us learn so we can stop fighting one another and start supporting one another. While some of us may not want to part with the “convenience of our whiteness,” there are plenty of others who would like to learn how to use that convenience to help raise you up.

[xxdarby31xx-blog]

The Incarnation of Reptar of the Right

Before anyone reads this next mischievous entry of creative literature, a little background information is necessary in order to shed some light and provide insight behind a piece of satire that may possibly trigger some internet users. I wrote this months back and for awhile was trying to figure out when to allow other sets of eyes to read the piece for themselves. Now is that time. 💁🏻‍♂️ Here's the reason why: 🇨🇦In Canada, there is a law in legislation that if passed would require citizens to use the specific personal preferred pronoun of those who identify beyond the traditional gender groups. These individuals fall between the other "totally real" 76 gender types or either as an breathing entity that does not identify as a human being but rather an entirely separate species all together. Yes, for those uninformed Trans-Species is actually now being considered as an real fucking thing. 🤦🏻‍♂️ If one decides to not comply with this proposed mandate they will be instantly susceptible to legal action and be punished for beholding a different opinion and using such "reckless and hateful" rhetoric 😔. This has to be the most ridiculous attack on free speech ever derived. I am fucking appalled and ashamed that we live during a time where society deems such importance on such idiotic madness. 😤 Now I want you to imagine working overseas and living life as a child labor victim, forced to endure 16 hour workdays. These slave shifts only consist of putting together iPhones and perhaps stitching up Nike footwear. Even worse, this form of torture is implemented simply for the purpose of American consumption. A country whose many inhabitants are in fact intelligent human beings, along with the total retards that perpetuate the insane bullshit of identity politics. It must be devastating and depressing having to experience and survive everyday life that is comparable to Hell. Can you honestly say that you would be able to gain any sort of understanding or feel remotely compassionate towards these first world gender identity "victims", if you were the one forced into child labor? 🤔Or would you not even have the time, because of the U.S.'s high demand for I Phones? 📱. Wrap your mind around the fact it's 2016 and our society is still arguing about race, gender, and now fucking pronouns. All while some hopeless kid somewhere is being victimized by an incredibly evil form of abuse. A hideous and immoral instance of abuse that occupies, infects, and ultimately wastes away the constantly fleeing moments of an temporary existence, that we call life. Hopefully now you can see the point I'm trying to make and somewhat understand my point of view when I wrote this piece. I personally believe whole heartedly it's extremely wrong that such absurdity now trumps imminent world problems that knowingly exist. Child abuse, domestic violence, homelessness, world hunger, cancer, sex trafficking and drug abuse just to name a few examples. I don't care what you do or identify as. Just don't let such actions infringe on my right to exercise free speech and behold a different set of beliefs. Okay enough with all the seriousness and now onto a direct product of being an individual, and exercising my right of free speech. A creative, outrageous, and silly piece of satire.😝😝😝 The Incarnation of Reptar of the Right Today I go to social media in order to confess something very personal and intimate. Truth be told my whole life I have always felt so incredibly uncomfortable and empty inside. I simply cannot deny it any longer! I will no longer identify myself as a human being. Truth be told I have always known deep down in that I am in fact actually a vicious, blood thirsty Tyrannosaurs Rex. (Unfortunately trapped in a human body 😔) I'm completely serious, so If anyone beholds any insensitive opinions or comments please refrain due to the fact my regular safe space location has unfortunately already reached maximum capacity. I can't put into words the joy of this weight being lifted off my shoulders. I thought I was possibly mentally ill and alone most of my life. That all changed once I saw the comedy classic Step Brothers. This movie is where I witnessed a scene where the father character openly discussed his want and burning passion to be a T Rex Dinosaur with his son. I was instantly inspired by such bravery. I was also extremely overjoyed to finally discover that I wasn't totally alone in the universe. SPOILER ALERT.....the prehistoric identity struggle is very real people. Can you even imagine the struggle? Me as a juvenile forced to engage in school and even partake in athletics daily with an entirely separate species. All the while, possessing a constant want and ambition to roam around the backyard with my arms all scrunched up T Rex style, wreaking havoc with each and every emphatic dino stomp and scream. I began to realize very quickly that you humans consider that'd to be an unhealthy and abnormal lifestyle, but for us dinos it's a way of life. I was destined to spend the rest of my days terrorizing backyards just like my ancestors before me. We have come an extremely long way and as a result really progressed dramatically as society. Now is the first time in history that I no longer have to be ashamed to admit that I've watched Jurassic Park a billion times and admittedly reenacted every T Rex scene alone in front of my mirror for hours at a time. (I'm not gonna lie either, I'm a pretty good actor.) So good in fact that when my private bedroom auditions take place, my roommates totally think I'm just watching the J Park films in my room. Just saying 😎 Do human beings partake in such activities? I think not, but then again I cannot be certain because I am only capable of having T Rex thoughts. 😐 Furthermore, I personally don't feel like the name "Gregg" is suitable for a T Rex such as myself. So I've decided that I will now only respond and answer to the name "Reptar". It's very fitting don't you think? As a T Rex it just came to be inherently natural I suppose. Referring to me as anything other than "Reptar" would highly offend me and not to mention hateful. Reptar is and always has been my one true identity. Don't get it twisted 🙅🏻‍♂️. It's simply amazing this ignored and incredibly courageous community, is now responsible for the most important movement occurring in the U.S. 🇺🇸and other areas of the world. My hope is that this will inspire more individuals who identify as a dinosaur to open up and come out from hiding. Whether you refer to oneself as Barney the Dinosaur or perhaps Bosh the Raptor, it makes no difference. You are not alone!!! Let's turn this place into our own Jurassic World. Sincerely, Reptar of the Right Update: I am happy to share that I will be pursuing an opportunity to ensure my physical appearance resembles that of which is my true identity. While it's not as intricate or expensive as medical procedures, it is still a gallant decision to make. Let me clarify, I'm totally not calling myself a hero or anything. Just that if one thing leads to another and you do decide to label and portray me as one, I won't fight it. That'd be lame and total dick move. 😝 Anyways, turns out my uncle knows this guy who works with this other guy, and this other guy has a brother. A dude named Stevie, who (GET THIS) works on the set of the upcoming motion picture Jurassic World!!!! My boy Stevie has received word of my courageous journey, and has since reached out and offered to aide me in my time of transitioning.