#if I traveled time and told my 20 years old self about my life | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

polarisbibliotheque · 10 months

Text

Writing Advice - Answering an Ask part 1

Hey everyone!! I recently got a super cute, beautiful and heartwarming ask requesting writing advices/how to beat writers block.

I wrote the answer on a doc and it has 3 pages, so I'm gonna be posting it in different parts - do forgive and AMAZING ANON WHO ASKED ME I HOPE YOU SEE THIS, IT'S PART OF YOUR ANSWER xD

Seriously, I've been sitting on this answer for a week now thinking how I'm gonna make it shorter >.<

So, without further ado, for the first part of the answer, I wanna tell a little bit about my writing journey - how I got from "not writing at all" to where I am now.

Because people think that you have a gift and words just flow like ambrosia in the cups of the gods - but I've actually started writing some pretty cringe stuff when I was 10 years old to get to a more poetic sort-of writing during my 29s currently.

THEREFORE, a little bit on how I got from cringy to still cringy but sometimes good writing ;)

I started by telling made-up stories to my sister when she couldn’t sleep and to my cousins during sleepovers because, I don’t know, they seemed to like my stupid little stories when I was 7 years old – or even younger. Sometimes I wrote some things, sometimes I didn't. But I was telling stories!

When I was 13, I discovered the magic world of fanfiction, and I wrote and published a HORRID thing on a fanfic website in my country, based on the band McFly that me and my sister adored back then (the gods have graced me with the power of deleting it and I thank immensely to that).

It was the first time I wrote AND published something to an audience outside of my friends/family.

After that, I kept on writing, and I moved to creating my own stories. When I was 14, I wrote a fanfic with the same band, but really the main theme was that I was an archeologist living in Egypt who researched on Atlantis and ended up finding the lost city. Somehow, I was allowed to climb the pyramids as well - because, you know, I ADORE Tomb Raider, and if Lara Croft could do it, so could I.

Told ya there would be some pretty cringy stuff in here, huh? xD

When I turned 15, I was bullied non-stop at school and so creating stories became my way to escape reality and have some fun with the people I wanted to meet in my life. I started carrying a notebook everywhere with me – it was my writing notebook. I had so many stories, and I never finished any of them (and good heavens, they are THE MOST cringy stuff, I’m glad they will NEVER see the light of day).

But I use the writing notebook thing to this day - whenever I'm travelling and internet isn't granted, I have somewhere to write.

I finished my FIRST novel when I was 16!! I was SO HAPPY about it!! It took me a year and a half writing it: a young adult book, kinda like Twilight (it was THE thing back then), with a secret society based on Arthurian Legend because I was a sucker for everything King Arthur (still am).

I can’t BEAR to read the first page of it nowadays, because c’mon. It was 15-year-old depressive me being bitter about everything and post-Twilight frenzy. The universe and worldbuilding has one HELL of a potential, but oh LORDS, it IS painful to read. I was a teen after all… But I finished a novel! If I haven’t done it, I wouldn’t be writing the way I’m writing today!

When I got into Law School, things got a little slow. I couldn't focus too much on writing and my social life improved a lot. I started tweaking my Arthurian story, but nothing too defined - I kept on writing lots of WIPs, though.

Around my 20’s, while I was close to graduating Law School, I started writing again… Supernatural fanfiction. With the SOLE PURPOSE of self-indulging, because I couldn’t find A SINGLE fanfiction that I could self-insert and love Dean Winchester while kicking some demon ass (sorry, I couldn’t resist the Nico inside me).

That led me to writing a 4-part Supernatural fanfiction that, honestly, for the next 6 years, it was the thing that made my heart soar while I was slaving away at a job I hated.

While I was overworking my ass off, I started writing (brace yourselves...) BTS fanfiction. I got into the band and some people from the website I wrote my Supernatural fanfic embraced me and kinda put me in the group and into the BTS world.

I was on the path of a burnout, so that became my escape - the girls from the website were so nice and we had many MANY writing projects of short stories. Throughout the years, I think I wrote around 25 or 30 stories, 40 pages max, to publish on this website and just have fun.

It started nice, but as time went by and I started moving out of the rom-com clichés (which are nice, don't get me wrong, we all love 'em) and became more existential and philosophic with a lot of metaphorical things while writing - and people stopped reading my work. I started to think I was bad, no one wanted to read because I lacked quality in my writing, or just my stories weren't so appealing as I thought. So I lost my will to write and slowly went back to my personal original stories.

When I hit 25 years old, I got fired and had a full burnout. I got really sick and my life literally stopped for the last 5 years - it has been hard, but that gave me time to sit back on my computer and recover ALL the books and stories I never finished writing.

I am NOT joking, I just counted all of them, and I have 65 DIFFERENT unfinished stories sitting on my Word folder right now on my computer. I also have a txt file I keep some “ideas that might be interesting to work on” and those have around 12 different full ideas of stories I might never write as well.

Upon hitting 27, I went back to writing niche fanfiction I didn't think anyone would want to read, so I published it here. I thought no one would want to read Devil May Cry fanfiction written by a woman who clearly worries more about the internal turmoil of characters rather than if what I'm writing is cute/rom-com like.

I opted for a more adult approach - given Dante and Vergil are adult men with lots of traumas, and I thought "hey, I don't have to write teenage things anymore, I can actually write how two adults would have difficult conversations and relationships in this fucked up world of ours" and that made a HUGE difference to my writing.

and once again thank the gods I found my people who like to read this sort of stuff :)

For quite a while, I was worried if what I was writing was consumable - you know, if the romance was that kind of tacky romantic thing to sweep you of your feet with perfect characters who don't exist, if people only have good times and are always laughing and having fun, if people enjoy touching each other 24/7 and being romantic and all that sugar coated stuff, if what I'm writing is politically correct, if it hasn't any subjects that are triggering or "wrong" in any sort of capacity... And that stiffed me. I lost my will to write and I stopped enjoying it, because I couldn't get my ideas out anymore.

Being quite honest, I'm not a person who had an easy, beautiful life. I had many things happen to me that made me understand Vergil on a soul level (and I think that's why I'm so comfortable writing him, as much as I hate that man), because I'm wary of people and my trust issues make me keep everyone at bay. I can only put my feelings safely out on my writing and my music, and I wasn't being able to.

So I tossed everything out of the window and started writing unhinged stuff. And oh, that made me feel SO good! I always smile a lot when re-reading my Cyberpunk-style story and a character called Abby tattoos on the ass of a corporate man that he is hers bitch, and when a "fallen angel" from my vampiric story smiles creepily and tells everyone she's got the most unhinged vampire on a leash and tells him to just kill everyone in the room for sheer revenge.

Not the best, politically correct stuff. Very wrong, by the way. But I had so much fun writing them, and it has so much character building behind these actions, it makes me feel nice :)

Out of all the 65 WIPs on my computer, I have around 5 that I think are really worth it for a full novel and so. They are:

My Arthurian Legend based novels. I outlined a series, I made character sheets, I planned and planned and planned... Since I'm 15, I've been thinking about it. Someday, who knows, this story will see the light of day.

My Cyberpunk-style novel. Halfway through it and every time I go "oh this is too heavy, I can't write this" I just toss the thought out of the window and go for it. Quite unhinged, very existential and grim, everyone is depressed and traumatized, but I love it :)

The Angel-Vampire stuff. Or, as I call it sometimes, the trip of an angel-like being going through the 7 deadly sins until finally falling for good, all aided by the most unhinged vampire in town. It's more like a villain origin story than anything else.

The Tea Shop thing. Oh, this one has been on my mind since 2018 and only now I've found some plot I like for it. Creation (yes, humanized form of creation) runs a tea shop and everything is fine until a woman enters and she has no Universe inside her eyes - and that is something to be afraid of. Doesn't make sense? Oh, yes, indeed. I'm going crazy with the concepts on this one, thanks to Neil Gaiman and The Sandman.

The rockstar guardian angel one. That's it. It's literally what the premise says: a woman has a dead rockstar as a guardian angel - and they couldn't be more opposite of each other. It doesn't help she's investigating his death and can talk to ghosts.

And my original vampire story, which I just call Nathan and Kathleen. I started this one when I was 16 or 17, so the writing is VERY cringy. I had just seen The Witcher 2 gameplay and, by then, I had never seen anything like it. As it's expected, I'm re-writing the 150 pages of unfinished work I already have.

Will this stop me from writing the other WIPs whenever I want to? Nah. I’ll keep on writing. Even if they are bad or horribly cringy.

Why am I blabbering about ALL this???

Because the most important stuff you can do is write.

You see, I didn't start out writing the way I do today - and I have so many stories, with so many pages, that I like so much, but I read it nowadays and I see I need to re-work them. And that's how you evolve! That's how you get better! By refining your abilities!

This is something I learned with the rockstars I love so much. None of them started out by playing perfectly - most of them had to sit down, listen and learn their instruments on their own. They got a LOT of things wrong to start getting something very simple right. And the more they play, the more they train, the more they refine, the better they become.

The same goes to writing - so, keep on writing! Everything you can, as much as you can, don’t feel bad about starting something new and never finishing another one, and don’t feel like you need to put out a masterpiece every time you sit to write.

Sometimes you just need to… Write.

16 notes · View notes

scaryspears · 27 days

Text

Baby Reindeer Review + Rant

So I watched Baby Reindeer. I'm going to be honest, I wasn't interested at first, but it gained a lot of attention by Tiktokers. I don't have my own Netflix account, so when my mum travelled and I had access to her TV, I took a chance while I could. 7 episodes, 20-30 minutes each.

I feel like the suspense was ruined since I knew it was a stalker situation, but I guess I was patient enough to see what would happen. I heard people talking about how Martha was scary, or how they found Baby Reindeer to be a horror, and I must admit that it wasn't the same case for me. When I think of horror I think of Texas Chainsaw Massacre, or Ichi the Killer. If we're going to argue about realistic situations when I'm going to throw in Audition 1999, a film about a man ignoring red flags and suffering the consequences of chasing after a woman he had no business chasing. Perhaps I have tainted my mind of so many disgusting images that I didn't register that I was watching a horror.

Speaking of ignoring red flags, I understood that Donnie was a victim, and I understand that trauma can affect how a person views the world and how they may navigate certain situations. I know Richard Gadd was sort of confronting himself when retelling that story, and how it's to investigate his psychology. But I also understood that he was an idiot.

A part of me genuinely thought his gender had something to do with it. How men will see a situation vs how women will see a situation. The Man vs Bear situation influenced that thought process of mine. But the episode that opens up about him being groomed and taken advantage of cancelled that out. Maybe he kept underestimating Martha because he sees a poor little woman who needs help.

Martha is a dangerous person, yet he entertained her, sort of. It was clear that he wanted to set boundaries, but didn't know how to, especially if her feelings were going to be hurt. Somehow Martha found her way around it, and when he did set a boundary for sure she started lashing out. She became worse, and yet somehow he was still able to hold sympathy for her. I think that sympathy is forgiveness, but not the kind that demands you to run with caution, the kind that convinces you to give one more chance.

One act of kindness was punished. Is punished. While I can relate, a vengeful part of me scolds him instead. Martha attacked Teri. I hated how Martha was made out to be someone to sympathise with. She threatened and hurt people, and is shown to be a bit of a racist and maybe a homophone, meaning she's an overall unpleasant person. I don't care if she has mental health problems, that doesn't make her innocent or someone I should sympathise with. Do you know what's also mental health? A 36 year old man stabbing a 14 year old boy to death in Hainault. That actually happened.

As soon as a mentally unwell individual starts harming people it's wraps. Donnie contacted the police, but didn't tell the police about Teri. He went along with his dead-end-job coworkers about not reporting what Martha did at the bar to the police because it would be bad for business. The same coworkers who looked through his email and sent that inappropriate message to Martha, making things worse for Donnie. He willingly associated himself with bad people, and willingly put himself through sticky situations. Also, faking who he is on a dating app? Scary. Yes, Donnie is a victim, but he's a massive idiot. Like people who continue to let others suck the life out of them even though they know they shouldn't. Dogs returning to vomit.

I didn't psychoanalyse him while watching the show, but now that I think about his actions, he's just as bad a person. Yes, he told off Martha after she attacked Teri, but it shouldn't have ever gotten that far in the first place. Richard Gadd was honest about not being a 'woe is me' character, and how his younger self made many dumb decisions. I also know that info on stalking was quite limited at the time, such as the fact that giving them attention makes things worse. Donnie saw her at the bus stop, spacing out, and instead of leaving her there to suffer he got her home. But even that act of kindness, Martha still contacted his family to send threats. She didn't stop being a horrible person. No good deed goes unpunished with people like this. No matter what way it is framed, Martha is not a poor little misunderstood creature, she's a monster.

Conclusion: Baby Reindeer, while an entertaining watch, just made me angry. It makes me think of people who are naive and are forced to learn the hard way. No matter how many times they learn, the lesson doesn't hit.

#Baby Reindeer #baby reindeer netflix #review #rant #martha scott #donnie dunn

4 notes · View notes

labelle-dame-sansmerci · 2 years

Text

Interview with The Vampire - Part I: An Annotation

Page 5

1791, and Louis is 25 years old

Louis has obviously traveled because his accent has faded over the years, but remnants of it remain, as noted by "boy"

Page 7-8

"Then he told me about the visions. Both St. Dominic and the Blessed Virgin Mary...had told him he was to sell all our property...everything we owned, and use the money to do God's work in France"

It's interesting that his brother (Paul, not yet named) mentions selling the plantation to do God's work but never mentions freeing or doing right by the people working their fields.

Page 9

Why would a holy man commit su!cide? Especially a devout Catholic.

Was Louis' brother "helped" to his end?

Page 10

This has to be the birth of Louis' guilt, receiving unfounded blame from everyone for his brother's death.

Page 11

"And then I was attacked...it was a vampire."

Enter Lestat (although he has not yet been named)

Page 14

"I saw my life as if I stood apart from it, the vanity, the self-serving, the constant fleeing from one petty annoyance after another, the lip service to God and the Virgin and a host of saints whose names filled my prayer books, none who made the slightest difference in a narrow materialistic and selfish existence. I saw my real gods...the gods of most men."

Louis revisits the foundations of faith, belief and spiritual trust.

Lestat didn't ask Louis to be his companion; however, his words convinced Louis to join him.

Page 15

Louis' comparison of his transformation to sex might be the first sign of AR's idea of intimacy for vampires as the blood exchange.

AR names Lestat.

Page 16

Louis focuses on how the death of the overseer made him feel squeamish and sick, but as a slave owner, was he this morally inclined towards the people working his land?

Page 17

WHY IS LOUIS AROUSED. Red flag???

"But the other light was my wish for self-destruction. My desire to be thoroughly damned."

Still, the consistent guilt and wish to destroy himself.

"As I said, he was determined to have the plantation."

Everyone in Louis' life needs/wants something from him.

Page 18

AR names Louis

"...he lay down beside me...his movement so graceful and so personal that at once it made me think of a lover..."

The tenderness in which Lestat holds Louis to unmake and remake him is delicate, gentle, sensual and caring. It's intimate.

Page 19

"It is your consciousness, your will, which must keep you alive."

There's something poetic about telling a su!cidal man that he needs to find the will to live so he can be reborn.

There's a morbid symmetry to Louis being reborn where his brother died.

Implications of Lestat being Louis' angel of death

"that shimmer of light now hung behind his head like the backdrop of an apparition"

Page 20 & 21

Louis, for SURE has mommy issues - he refers to the women, their breasts and comfort and sustenance twice in the span of two pages.

Page 22 & 25

Lestat is very cold and detached in Louis' post-bite transformation experience.

Page 27

It's just how the world was, but I have to admit I'm repeatedly uncomfortable with Louis' thoughts on his slaves. Even when he feels he's complimenting or dolling out praise - it's awkward.

Page 29

"...when I sucked the blood from Lestat's wrist and felt his heart pound with my heart. It is again and again a celebration of that experience; because for vampires that is the ultimate experience."

More evidence of the blood exchange being AR's intimacy and sensuality for vampires.

Page 32

Louis' first acknowledgement of love or relation to it is the idea of seeing/experiencing/understanding the world with renewed inspiration due to his ability to appreciate it and the time to do so.

Page 34

AR names Paul

Page 45

Louis remarks that Lestat is "just a killer" and that being a vampire meant an opportunity for revenge.

If we think more about that, we have to consider that while Lestat was cold and maniacal, something truly traumatic must have happened to him to have this scorch-the-earth mentality. This obviously doesn't absolve his behavior.

Page 55

We're introduced to the origins of Lestat's trauma.

Page 59

Another angel comparison

At this point is quite plain that Louis is arrogant and prideful in his own way. Self-righteous.

Page 61

Louis practically likens himself to a guardian angel

"Did I not help you at the very moment when you needed most guidance...Did I not twice offer you good counsel? And haven't I watched over your happiness ever since?"

Page 62

Louis refers to the taking of Babette's life in intimate terms Saying that he could only ever come to know her:

"...through the one final way; to take her life, to become one with her in an embrace of death when my soul would become one with her heart and nourished with it."

Page 63

L&L have been companions for four years

Page 64

Louis again references love - this time, it's an appreciation of Babette's personal qualities.

Page 72

Even in this life after death, Louis' existence is a never-ending identity crisis.

Page 81

Is Lestat being helpful?

Page 83 - 85

At this moment, when Louis and Lestat are conversing about vampires in groups, there's always one in service to another, and Lestat says that vampires increase through slavery.

Lestat is a terrorist.

I found it interesting that they're having this conversation about slavery, and AR set this story during a time of slavery where one group of people are profiting from the life force and servitude of another group of people. Almost like a subliminal message that, in their own way, slave owners are vampires, sucking the life out of others and increasing their own wealth through slavery.

Page 86 & 87

Does Lestat receive Louis' rejection of a "full" vampire life, as Lestat has described it, as a rejection of him?

Is Lestat trying to create camaraderie?

Also, are these moments of rare physical contact between the two?

Page 88 & 91

More angel references

Enter Claudia

Page 94

Lestat doesn't want to be alone.

"Keeping me with him, that was undoubtedly part of what pushed him."

Page 95

Louis brushing off questions about the origins of Lestat's trauma, not really wanting to give it thought, is understandable but dismissive at the same time.

Page 103

Claudia is terrifying. There's an unnatural coldness about her - one that surpasses the insanity of Lestat.

Page 116

Claudia is 65 years old - that would make L&L's time together almost 70 years..?

Page 121

Claudia really is a little Lestat with more coldness and less regard for others.

Page 131

"And I hope it's a beautiful woman with endowments you'll never possess..."

Jesu Christo, Lestat!

Page 134

Lestat looking towards Louis for aid, pulls at the heartstrings - despite their combative relationship, I think he expects his companion of several decades to protect him. I suspect in many ways, Lestat has gotten used to Louis in his life and feels a connection with him as a long-term companion.

Lestat crying to God is surprising - glance back and see what his relationship with religion was prior to this scene.

Page 137 & 138

Louis is in pain. Lestat's death has definitely emotionally maimed him.

He misses the familiarity of Lestat.

I think his soul feels Lestat calling to him - there's something very personal about his wading solo into the water with his companion's body, letting the water claim it.

They are most definitely connected.

Louis is experiencing grief in a way he hasn't expressed grief for others.

Page 139

Claudia is emotionally manipulative - crying to bring Louis back to her was calculated.

Page 142

More angel references

END OF PART 1

Final Thoughts on Part 1

Louis

· Louis has traded Lestat's control for Claudia's.

· Louis still feels in a very humane way, and for that reason, I don't think he will ever find his equal in an immortal companion.

· I think there’s a darkness to Louis that we aren’t fully experiencing because he’s narrating.

· Louis obviously has mental health issues, but he also has a victim mindset which is potentially quite toxic.

· Louis might not admit it, but I suspect he’s quite attached to Lestat because he remained with him for nearly 70 years and mourned him when after Claudia poisoned him.

Claudia

· Lestat's demise needed to happen, but in the same way, Claudia also needs a reckoning - she's out of control.

· Claudia is eerily similar to Lestat in terms of her premeditated and callous behavior. Despite the humanity Louis tried to pour into her ear, she experiences everything in a very cold and detached way.

Lestat

· Louis implies that Lestat turned him for his plantation, but I believe Lestat must have desired him on some level because Lestat could have easily turned his sister, killed Louis, and assumed full ownership of the property.

· Intimacy in this universe is very much about the desire for and exchange of blood.

· Rice really plays into the religious themes with an emphasis to heavenly beings.

This is reposted from my Reddit

#interview with the vampire #iwtv #lestat de lioncourt #lestat #louis #louis du pointe du lac #anne rice #vampire chronicles #loustat #claudia #annotation

37 notes · View notes

annafox1977 · 11 months

Note

Hello hello!

I was wondering if you'd be comfortable with writing for Will A. Zeppelin from JJBA Part 1?

The curse of the Stone Mask:

Warning: angst, no comfort, slight gore, fem!reader, a bit rushed, my first writing, bad Italian

Word count: 816

Transalation: tesoro - treasure, mia cara - my dear, anima mia - my soul

You were only a cabin girl when you met your captains son, Will Anthonio Zeppeli, who you became fast friends with (and a small crush too) because you two were the same age. At the age of 20, Will’s father decided to travel to Mexico to visit an Aztec ruin. You, being the self volunteerd chef too, of course were brought along. Inside said ruins was a mysterious Stone Mask. Turns out it was exacly what the Zeppeli family was looking for, though you didn’t understand why it was so important. It was nothing but an old relic, right?

After getting the mask, Will helped you putting the crates on dock. It was still early so you were a bit sleepy. "Thanks Will, I’m not sure how long this would have took without you" you said, smiling at him. He blushed slightly, thinking about how cute your smile is, but quickly replied. "Do not worry Mia cara, I’m always eager the help such beautiful lady out" he said charmingly. You didn’t reply, but instead bashfully looked away while your face rivaled a tomato. The boys father watched the interraction between his son and the cabin girl with a smile on his face. He shlightly shook his head, then disappeared in his cabin.

The sky was clear for a while, but then it slowly got darker until it began to heavily rain. Thunders roared in the distance and the harsh waves rocked the ship. One of the crew members yelled for you. "Oi! Cabin girl! Get the captain, we need all the people on the ship to keep us steady! Hurry up, girl!"

You did as you were told, and went to look for the older Zeppeli. You eventually found him, his back facing you with a bloody blade in hand. "Captain! Captain, we need up deck! Please, come quickly!" after saying that, you noticed the blade in his hand. "S-sir are you okay?" you asked in a worrisome tone. When he turned to face you, the Stone Mask was on his face covered in blood. Now that the faint light of the candles reached his skin, you noticed how pale it was.

Before you could comment on it, he went to attack you, but you were able to escape just in time, with a scrached arm. You ran back on deck while screaming for help, clutching your bloody wound.

"The captain! Something is wrong with Mr. Zeppeli! He’s acting insane!" you shouted panically.

Some of the adults immediatly went to see what happend to their captain, while you ran to the younger Zeppeli in tears, throwing yourself in his arms.

"Y/n! Tesoro, what on earth are you talking about?" Asked the young boy being concerned for you and for his father. "I-" Before you could begin to explain you were interrupted by the crew members scream, who were standing at the opening of the lower level of the ship. Before anyone could do anything, a dark figure slaughteted the crew members. Blood was covered the whole deck, and you uncontrollably sobbed at the sight, the metallic scent of blood invading your senses.

While the monster was busy with his former men, you and Will dived in to the water in order to save your life. The former captain finished off all the 58 members of the ship and went after you two. Will was desperatly trying to hold you up and shield you from any attack. Both of you were terrified, but fortunatly for you the Sun began to rise, burning away your dear friends father. Will started crying, and cursed the mask for it’s inhuman power, swearing to destroy it.

After that fateful day, you and Will found love in each others comfort, and decided to marry one another. But the events from all those years ago won’t leave the Barons mind. He knew that in order to fulfill his promise he had to leave for an unknown amount of time.

"Y/n, mia cara, I hope that one day you will find it in yourself to forgive me, but I have to go. The mask can not get in the wrong hands." he explaind in a sorrowful tone, squeezing your hands. On one hand you underdtood your husbands reasoning, but on the other hand you were worried that he won’t come back to you and your son.

"Love, please, forget about that dammned mask! You can’t just leave us here...you’re not going to...right?" you asked with teary eyes and quivering words. The brown haired man looked at you with a saddened gaze, but then quickly answered you. "Don’t worry anima mia, I will do everything in my power to come back to you." he assured you, not knowing about his fortune that he will learn about throughout his journey.

Years passed and your husband still hasn’t came home.

»»--N O T E ----------►

☆ Hello!

☆ AAAAH MY FIRST REQUEST!!

☆ I was so excited when I saw a message, but then I saw the date and holy shit, why didn't I get a notification?💀

☆ Anyways, sorry for the long wait and I hope you enjoyed, dear anon! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

7 notes · View notes

coolitsriver · 9 months

Text

the hardest goodbye | self.

when: helping hands care home

where: september 15th, 2023, at 7:15 pm

triggers: death, mentions the word 'hospital' once

description: river says goodbye to his favourite resident at helping hands care home.

River's alarm clock blinked at 6:30 AM, and he groaned as he forced himself out of bed. It was another work day at the Helping Hands Care Home, and as much as River would rather stay home with his girlfriend and their animals, he was ready to tackle today's shift. He had been working at Helping Hands for a few years now, it was a job that he'd always planned to be temporary. He'd stay for a summer and then find something else. However, months turned into years. River fell in love with the rewards of the job and its residents but there was one resident in particular who had captured his heart—Poppy.

Poppy, an 88-year-old woman with snow-white dreads and a mischievous glint in her eyes, had been at Helping Hands for as long as River could remember. She had a vivacity that seemed out of place in a care home. River often said she was a timeless beauty, and she teased him about his endless charm. Their bond was more than just caregiver and resident; it was a genuine friendship. River had never had a motherly figure in his life and Poppy had never been given the opportunity to bear children. In a way. they fulfilled positions in one another's lives. If you asked Poppy, she'd tell you she had a son. Just not a blood-related one.

It was bright and early when River started making his rounds. He always left Poppy til last so that he could spend extra time with her without worrying about other residents needing his help. He smiled to himself when he made it to her room, knocking once before entering. She was in the same place as always, her rocking chair by the window - glasses on and a newspaper in hand. "Morning, flower."

Poppy looked up from her crossword puzzle, her eyes twinkling. "Ah, River, my handsome boy. Come, help me with this tricky word."

As they spent the morning wrestling with crossword clues and sharing stories, River couldn't help but admire Poppy's spirit. She had lived a full life, filled with adventures, love, and heartbreak. Her resilience had become an inspiration to him, and he was grateful for every moment they spent together. River would often sit with Poppy, reading her favourite novels or playing her cherished old records. Sometimes, they would take strolls in the beautifully landscaped gardens around Helping Hands, and Poppy would share tales of her youth—dancing under the stars, traveling the world, and falling in love. He'd tell her about what was going on in his life. About his family, his friends - she was the first person he'd told when he realised he'd fallen in love with Cleo. Poppy had even gotten him birthday cards to give to his family and friends - remembering every person who meant something to River. For, in a way, they now meant something to her.

River wished he'd met Poppy earlier in his life, for maybe things could've been different for him if he had. Still, he reminds himself that everything he'd gone through had led them to meet. However, he still wished he had. For he would've been able to have more time with Poppy. Because, life has its seasons, and as autumn leaves fell, so did Poppy's health. Her visits to the hospital became more frequent, and River was by her side through it all, holding her hand during those long nights, and offering comfort with a reassuring smile.

It was a cold September evening when River was on shift. He was where he always was - in Poppy's room with her Mighty Sparrow record on. She'd always embraced her Trini culture and River loved to learn more. Thus, how they found themselves here, River and Poppy dancing together.

"My boy, I don't know how you learned to move your hips like this. Even in my 20s, men couldn't move that freely."

"I have a pretty good teacher, what can I say?"

"Well, your girlfriend is very lucky."

"Oi, down girl."

They both laughed at that before it was abruptly cut off by the sound of Poppy's coughs - stopping their dance as she struggled to keep standing. All sense of joy left the room, River quickly wrapped his arms around her and helped her to her bed. As soon as he was sure she was safely in, he went to turn off the record player.

"Well, didn't that just kill the damn mood?" Poppy tried to joke through her coughs. River made his way to her side, picking up a glass of water for her to help her drink.

"That's alright. We can try again tomorrow." River said confidently, almost as if he was avoiding the decline in her health recently. Avoiding the truth that tomorrow for them wasn't promised. Still, he chose to avoid that thought because he wasn't ready. He wasn't ready to be without her.

Poppy smiled, though it didn't meet her eyes. Almost as if she knew. "I suppose." She got out, letting her body relax and lying propped up in bed. She settled, glancing over at her favourite helper. "River, you've brought so much light into my life. And I've lived a long, beautiful life, so, that's saying something." She teased while looking lovingly at the young man. "I adore you, you know that?"

"Course I do." River smiled, taking her hand into his to gently squeeze. "Where's all this coming from?"

"I just wanted to say it," Poppy admitted. Usually, she'd have some playful quip to say in response. But, not today. Again, it's like she knew they wouldn't have tomorrow. "You've been my rock, my confidant, and my friend. You deserve the world, my boy. I know you don't want to be at this home forever. You have your movies to make and a life to live. I just want you to live a long and beautiful life like I did."

"I'll have plenty of time to make movies. I'm not leaving while you're still here." He kissed the back of her hand. "This is where I wanna be right now. I promise."

Poppy smiled sadly, she had learned that about River over the time she'd gotten to know him. He had a habit of putting everyone before himself. She hoped one day, he'd do something purely for himself. "Put yourself first for once, you idiot." She teased him before shaking her head. She motioned to her bedside table, "Well, as you're here, make yourself useful. I've got $15 in there - can you go to the store to get me a lottery ticket?"

River rolled his eyes, opening the drawer to take out the money. "88 years old and still doing the lottery. Shameful." He teased before he got up properly. "But, of course. You want anything else?"

"Just that, thanks." She watched as River walked to the doorway. She grinned, "I want you to bring back all of my change, you hear? Not a penny less."

"Yes ma'am." He teased, winking at her for the final time before he walked out towards the staff room to grab his jacket and car keys. He wasn't really meant to do secret store visits for residents but Poppy was always the exception.

It wasn't more than 20 minutes later that River made it back to Helping Hands. Quickly jumping out of the car, he made his way inside - wanting to deliver Poppy her lottery ticket before his supervisor or any one of his colleagues realised he was gone. Making his descent down to Poppy's room, he was shocked to find several employees and his supervisor outside Poppy's room and in her doorway. The sight of it scared him, his pace picking up.

"What's going on?" River asked worried. There was only one reason why he'd ever seen everyone gathered like this outside of a resident's room before and it wasn't for any good reason. His supervisor, Kim, walked out of Poppy's room at the same time he asked. The look on her face said it all.

"River," Kim started, "I'm really sorry. I'm not sure how to tell you this." She started, watching the colour draining from River's face with every word she spoke. "One of the nurses went to check on Poppy to give her evening meds and she was ... gone by the time they came in. She's passed away, Riv."

"N-No. No, that can't be. I-I was just with her. She was fine! She was tired but she was fine!" River knew his tone was getting louder, he really hadn't meant it to. But, all he felt at this moment was panic and disbelief. "Are you sure-"

"The home's doctor called it. Workers from the medical center are coming within the hour to take her to the mortuary." Kim and everyone at Helping Hands knew just how devastating this news was going to be for River. Everyone knew just how special the bond River and Poppy had. And everyone also knew how devastated he'd be that he wasn't with her when she passed. "Do you want to spend some time with her? I'll get everyone to clear out so you can have some space. Say your ... goodbyes."

He still couldn't believe this was happening. "I-uh-" He stuttered, a rare moment of River McGrath being completely speechless. "... Y-yes." was all he could get out. He watched in slow motion as Kim ushered everyone away, leaving him standing next to the open doorway of Poppy's room. He was scared, truthfully. To walk inside and see her so lifeless. However, he knew he had no choice in the matter. He had to say goodbye, to deliver her lottery ticket one last time. He took a deep breath and made his way inside.

The silence was eerie. All her belongings and items were left as he'd last seen them. His eyes finally made it to her bed, Poppy lying in bed peacefully above the covers with her eyes closed. She looked like she was sleeping, but the closer he got to her, the more he realised she'd lost all life and colour already.

"You couldn't have waited til I got back, huh?" He teased, feeling the shock transform slowly into sadness and grief. "I brought back all your change. $3.50. Not a penny less, like you said. What if this is finally the time you win the lottery and you die? You have the worst timing."

He placed the lottery ticket and change on her bedside table before he sat next to her. "You would've laughed at that." He uttered like a whisper. "Please laugh." His voice broke. The reality started to settle in and River, vowing to always hold back his tears, let the floodgates loose.

"I'm so sorry I wasn't here." He sobbed quietly, taking her frail hand into his own. "I'm not ready to lose you, Pop. I feel like I have so much more I had to learn from you. I had so much I wanted to say." He rambled, "I just ... I wish we had more time. I wish you were in my life sooner. You've been the mother I've never had. I'm never gonna be able to thank you enough for that."

He sniffled, "I love you. I know you wouldn't want me to be sad but fuck, I'm gonna miss you terribly." He let out a chuckle through his tears. "Your strength and grace will always leave me in awe. You were such a bright person and I really do hope there's some sort of afterlife cause I don't wanna believe I'll never see you again." He kissed the back of her hand, letting himself lean down to rest his head against her body. He held her, sobbed, and allowed himself to grieve the loss of a remarkable woman. He knew there was no future for him at Helping Hands after this, having meant what he said that he wasn't going anywhere if she was still here.

"This is the worst fucking pain I've ever felt in my life but it's worth it from having you in my life even for a short amount of time." He whispered gently to her. "You'll never understand how much our bond meant to me. I hope I did the same for you, flower."

As River sobbed, sobbed, and sobbed, he came to understand that Poppy's gift to him was not just their friendship but the realization that love and compassion have the power to transcend generations. And in the heart of the Helping Hands Care Home, a river of compassion continued to flow, connecting lives, memories, and the enduring legacy of a remarkable woman named Poppy.

#self;#tw: death #|| aaaaaaa this is so sad yall ||#|| but I had it planned for ages - it had to happen ||

2 notes · View notes

kim-hao-han · 2 years

Text

A Leap Of Faith // Five Hargreeves X Reader (Pt.2)

Some info: Just an inspo from Demon Slayer (totally irrelevant), “Below the Surface” FNAF(also irrelevant) and of course “The Umbrella Academy” show and comics. Reader and Five are 20 for the sake of being mature content (no smut but violence, alcohol and such). I kinda follow the real plot but also not???? There may be multiple endings so be warned. I’m not new to fanfiction but its been a few years so excuse any mistake or not well written parts. Also, English is not my first language so bare with me for any grammar mistakes. Please enjoy the story!! <3

Words: 2.1k

/Part 1/

Explaining to the guys what happened and who the girl was, was a mess Five had nor the patient or the mood to do. So y/n tried her best to explain as calmly as she could. “We’ve been working in an organization kind of company doing missions for the past 30 something years.” y/n said as she took a sip of water that Vanya offered her. She looked at Five who was making a peanut butter sandwich. Luther was getting even more confused. After hearing Five’s explanation of time travelling, the Commission and the apocalypse coming he felt like he had lost every connection with reality. “So…you guys are actually 58?” Diego asked piecing the newly acquired information together. “Our consciousness is 58. Currently, we are stuck int the bodies of our 20 year old selfs.” Five explained cutting the sandwich and passing half to y/n. Y/n smiled at him, mouthing a thank you and turned to face the confused family. “We basically had to transfer out consciousness to the last existing body that existed in this timeline” she added which from their expressions she could understand they were beyond confused. “Are you two fucking?” Klaus asked which made both Y/n and Five choke on their sandwiches. “Far from it, we worked together. Partners” Five said and patted Y/n’s shoulder. “I’m gonna go get some decent coffee” he told her and blinked away. She was a bit worried about him since they may be chased by the Commission but she had to hide how she felt. It wasn’t new for y/n to do so. After working with Five she had learnt to hide her one side love feelings for him quite well. That along with her worry about his well being.

Allison was watching them standing besides Luther and cleared her throat. “Care to explain to us what happened? Like from the start?” she asked y/n and smiling she nodded. “I would have many questions if I were you as well. I can’t really tell you much about how Five survived the apocalypse before the Handler found him. But I can certainly fill you in about some of our adventures together.” Y/n said and stood up. Walking up and down she started telling them about how together they passed the last 30 years. The family looking at her as if nothing was more interesting in the room. After all, they ere all worried about Five being gone all these years

“Y/n we have a new recruit working on desk 35. You will be his partner. Lila works better alone and you are not ready to work alone. His name is Five. I’m sure you’ll be able to warm him up.” The handler said as she guided Y/n through the office. “Yeah, yeah…Lila is so good and strong I get it.” She replied rolling her eyes. Don’t get her wrong. She loved Lila like a sister but this discrimination their “mother” had against her was making her sick. Y/n was not weak or less capable than Lila. Her powers just requested someone to guide her body while she possessed the enemy.

Y/n left the Handler behind walking to the desk she was told she would meet the young man. “33…34.. 35!” she counted and looked at the chair only for her to stop breathing. She had seen many hot guys during her life but literally no one had taken her breath away. She felt like for the first time she was the one losing control of her mind. “Can I help you?” an irritated voice snapped her out of her thoughts and she shook her head. “Y-You are Five right?” The young man rolled his eyes. “Am I that famous? If so you could at least bring me some good coffee. The machine on this floor is broken and most employees here drink tea.” He said and went back to typing away at his typewriter. Y/n blinked a few times. “I can totally get some coffee. I’m Y/n. I am…actually your appointed partner for the ‘missions’.” She added and smiled at him. Five turned to face her and her smiled instantly warmed his heart. He felt like he could at least talk to her. She seemed smart and could actually reply to him, unlike Delores. No No…let’s not ahead of himself. He was loyal to Delores. She was the one by his side when he had no one…But then again some company wouldn’t trouble him. “I would really appreciate it. Black please” he said in his monotone voice and went back to typing. Y/n nodded and walked out to go get the both some coffee.

Present Day

“It was hilarious seeing him spit out the coffee I got him. Turned out he didn’t like the offices coffee so going out for some coffee became a routine for us. Y/n said and laughed remembering how they first met. Vanya smiled as well. “Sounds like you two are good friends” she said and y/n looked at her. “That’s one way to describe our relationship. We are not actually friends but not simple coworkers either.” She added and sat back down. “Our time with the Commission wasn’t all happiness and jokes. If it was he wouldn’t want to leave so badly…Actually, I think he would leave the Commission even if it was paradise. He may not look like it but he missed you guys. He talked to me about you guys and you could see his eyes being happy.” She said and looked at them. She could see that they were all touched by knowing that little detail about how Five felt. Klaus touched his cheek tilting his head to the side” Aww lil brother Five actually loves us”. Y/n and the guys laughed at this except Diego. He stayed still as a rock thinking. “What did you mean with the Commission not being a happy place? It sounds normal.” Diego asked. Signing Y/n nodded and sat back down at the chair fiddling with her fingers. “Our job was not an office job. We were assasins. The Handler promised that if Five did her dirty work, she would allow him to come back. Of course, that never happened. After each mission, she would tell him he had to do more.”

“Y/N! Did you see what we are asked to do? How can we go there? It’s a suicide mission” Five whispered full of anger as they were sneaking into the warehouse. “I’ll take care of the guard and you sneak inside okay?” y/n only said to him. She closed her eyes and to five it looked like she just took her last breath. Next thing he heard was the guard walking to the wall and smashing his head against it until he was dead for good. Y/n took back a deep breath and Five immediately held her. “What just happened…how did you do that?” he asked her. “I moved my consciousness to his body and killed him. Simple.” She said as if it was not a big deal.

Five couldn’t recognize her at that moment. Her eyes had lost their usual glow, her soft smile was erased from her sweet face. She looked different. Thinking about what she told him his eyes widened. “You..you committed suicide to kill the guard?!” He asked shocked and y/n stood up walking inside. “After a few years death and suicide don’t have the same meaning.” She said quickly. The rest of the mission was a shock for Five but also Y/n. She felt awful. Every time she moved to another body, killed them and went back to her own was like she was having multiple heart attacks. Watching Five blink around and kill was amusing to her. She felt the rush of adrenaline hit her hard. It was like doing her job and amusing Five was her new goal. She wanted him to see her as a strong woman and not as a weak child. “Y/N!” Five’s scream snaped her out of her mind just in time before she was shot. Five blinked to her grabbed her and blinked them behind the last guy killing him. “Are you stupid? What were you thinking? I can see why The Handler didn’t trust you alone” He said frustrated as he pushed his hair back. He wasn’t actually mad at her but what if she got hurt? He was worried. No…No he wasn’t worried. He didn’t care at all. He only did this for his family…right?

Y/n was shocked and hurt by his words. She was grateful he saved her but her plan to awe him backfired “You are right…I’m sorry..” was the only thing she said dropping her head down. As anyone would expect the drive home was quite and awkward. Five wanted to apologize but he found himself being a coward and selfish.

“I want to come with you” Y/n said looking at Fives wall which was full of equations and graphics. “No! It’s dangerous, not safe and I don’t want to risk you. Your family is here. You have your life here. Mine is not here.” Five told her as he was fixing his suit. Now both of them being 58, their relation was not only as coworkers for sure. They had build a certain level of skinship between them and trust. “Five, let’s be honest, just time travelling won’t work. Let me try to transfer our consciousness to our bodies in that time line” y/n said sitting on his bed. Her intelligence and grasp of things never seized to amaze him. She had a point. His teleportation and her mind transferring could accomplish the plan better. “Are you sure you are willing to leave everything you know behind for me?” He asked her walking closer. Y/n stood up and connected her forehead with his, cupping his face. “This is a leap of faith I am willing to make.”

The brothers and sisters were shocked at what Y/n had just explained to them. “I am also one of the kid born on October 1st 1989…as is my sister Lila. She is a strong bitch if you ever get on her bad side.” She said jokingly. “I am more interested in your powers though Y/n…We have similar powers yet so different. I can’t imagine having to “kill” myself in order to defeat an enemy. Allison commented and Klaus jumped in. ”I can! I totally relate with you my friend. Death is so weird. Like being high” he said and laughed. Y/n looked at the time and stood up. “Five, has been gone for a while. Is there a place-“ she was cut off by the front door opening and closing. Five walked past them and Y/n rushed to the staircase meeting a bloody Five, a not so unfamiliar sight. “They found us” Five told her and she swallowed hard. “The chip right..” He nodded and walked to her. “We have to take yours out too.” He said and carefully held her hand, rubbing just above her wrist which was scared and with dried blood. “You took yours out?” He asked and looked at her. “When?” she took his hand and smiled. “I had to before I came to your room this morning” Y/n said and looked at his siblings. “They will most likely find us soon. And the apocalypse is 8 days away” Five nodded. “I guess we go back to work then”

26 notes · View notes

sjolldorei · 1 year

Text

~ Local Hero Returns Home from years of travel and glory! ~

Sjoll Sunguard, Sin'dorei adventurer of some renown, has returned to Quel'thalas for some much needed peace and quiet. After a long career of danger and heroism, this swordsman has decided to setlle down at his ancestral home in Eversong, where he plans to "spend some quality time relaxing alone, before helping to train the younger blade wielders in Silvermoon", our reporter was told.

Read more in the full article below.

Mr. Sunguard, pictured below on the Azurebreeze Coast, has come home to our lands of beauty and peace after his long and painful career as a warrior of the Horde.

We were honored to interview Sjoll as he walked along the beaches, gifting us a brief insight into his adventurous past.

"I first took up the sword when my father, Sol'osh, started training me," he began. "The woodland to the south where we lived wasn't the safest, quite far from any guard presence, so it was for self-preservation as much as anything else."

Growing up, Sjoll had two seperate parents - A Sin'dorei librarian, Sathir Sunguard, and an Amani elder, the aforementioned Sol'osh. We were quite intrigued as to how the young Sjoll came into the care of an Amani, life-long enemies of us Sin'dorei.

"It was a... strange situation. I won't say too much, only that both of my parents cared for me to the best of their ability, and I love and appreciate them both dearly for that."

The adventurer wasn't keen on elaborating further, only saying that the two parents had been in contact several times since his adulthood, and got along "very very well."

"I left eversong in search of adventures and, well, to explore! There's so much world out there to see, it never truly ends." Sjoll's passion for our world of Azeroth - as well the many worlds beyond - jumped out of his words, our reporter noted.

As tales were told of glories and gore from times gone by, we headed south towards the home Mr. Sunguard would be living in from now on. Unfortunately we cannot let loose every little detail, so we've compiled a short list of the most exciting questions:

Q: What's the most danger you've ever been in?

A: That would probably be during the Legion campaign some years ago. I was working with the Armies of Legionfall to secure various smaller invasion points, when one of my allies was dragged into a Legion portal! I ran in straight after them, killing a pair of felguards and distracting an infernal while my comrade, an enchanter, worked furiously to reopen the portal that had closed behind us! If it wasn't for them I would've died on that Legion world.

Q: Have you ever known love?

A: Ah... quite a few times, but only for fleeting moments. Sadly the nature of adventuring tends to keep a person on the move, so nothing has lasted. But I think I'm quite happy with a solitary life. It suits me well!

Q: Do you think you'll find love now that you've settled down a bit?

A: Are you asking for yourself...?

Q: Do you have a favourite battle technique you'd like to share?

A: There was an old classic I used to love, "The Bladestorm" - I'm sure you will have heard about it. The warrior would extend their weapons outwards and push their strength into whirling their entire body around in a deadly spin - much akin to "The Whirlwind" - but refusing to stop for neither friend nor foe. I could only manage 8 or so seconds, but a talented warrior could go for 20 at least!

Q: Many of our readers will be wanting to ask for advice, or words of wisdom. Do you have any of those?

A: Hm... It may be said often, but always follow your heart. This world is a wild place - busy and enormous, certainly, but filled with potential for anyone to be anything. And if you ever need any help, please, rely on the adventurers that came before you. We want to see our sucessors succeed as much as we did, if not more!

Lake Elrendar, pictured above, spills forth from the Amani mountains and flows down into the Western cost of Quel'thalas. Sjoll will be living near its pine-dotted shores for the forseeable future, although he assures us that there are still adventures in his future.

"Don't be too surprised if you come knocking in the future to find a note on the door reading 'Gone out for eggs, be back in 2 years' !"

If our time with Mr. Sunguard told us anything, it was that he was always eager to help out any adventurers in need - so if you need any personal advice or assistance, I'm sure you know just the elf to ask! Just be aware that he might be on a months-long trip to the shops if you're unlucky...!

#world of warcraft #sjoll sunguard #wowrp #i had a lot of fun writing this i cannot lie #dont worry he's not gone forever!#just not playing him much at the moment and wanted to do a fun silly thing as a in-character send off

6 notes · View notes

rescuerangerdale · 2 years

Text

I-5

Self-Para, light angst + humor.

A small set of conversations spanning Dale's life as he travels the Interstate 5 connection between California and Oregon.

tw: Brief mentions of death and loss.

Someone dies but it's off screen.

Groves of douglas furs passed by the window as the station wagon made its way down the I-5. Jessie’s Girl played on the radio as a young Dale took in the scenery. They had only been in the car for a few hours, and had many more to go before they made it to their destination. Dale sighed as he rested his head against the cool glass.

“You doing alright there sweetheart?” His mother called out from her position in the driver’s seat.

“Yeah mom.” Dale said as he offered her a smile. “Just a bit bored. How come I didn’t get to ride with dad?”

“Because your brother won the coin flip.”

“But…” Dale huffed a bit as he sank down in his seat. He was the youngest of three, having both an older sister and brother with the older two only sharing a two year age gap, and him being seven years behind his brother. It had always been apparent that he was an unexpected surprise, and his siblings had made sure he knew it too, taking every chance they could to exclude him even in the most minor ways. “I didn’t even get a chance to ride shotgun…” Dale mumbled out as he kicked the seat in front of him where his sister was sleeping.

“You know shotgun rules, your sister called it first.”

Dale pouted some more as he tried to count the cows in the field they were passing. They had settled back into a delicate silence as American Woman played.

“Are you nervous about the move?” His mother asked when the song ended.

“Not really. I’m really looking forward to making new friends.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah! I’m going to be the most popular kid in school! I’ll get everyone to love me by just telling them about all the cool stuff in Oregon! I bet they haven’t been to The Mystery Spot!”

His mother chuckled softly. “I bet they haven’t. You know, your dad and I really appreciate your positivity. It’s been really helpful during the move.”

Dale turned away from the window catching his mothers eye in the rearview mirror.

“Anytime mom.” He said as he smiled at her.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“I know mom, I know!” A barely 20 year old Dale said into his new cell phone as he attempted to merge onto the interstate. “It’s just a straight shot up I-5, even I can’t mess that up.” He rolled his eyes as he listened to his mother let out a long sigh in lue of a reply. “Chip and I have taken this trip multiple times, I think I can manage one trip on my own.”

“Should you be on the phone while you’re driving?” She asked. “This is why you need to have Chip take the drive with you, you’re too distractible.”

“Mom, that’s the whole point of cellphones! It’s so you can talk whenever wherever. Plus it just hit seven so I wanted to update you with my eta.”

“Are you sure it’s too late to turn around and pick him up? I just worry about you driving through the mountains so late at night.”

Dale sighed. “I told you mom, Chip and I are trying to spend some time apart.”

“Is this about that silly fight you two had?”

“Mom” Dale warned. He flipped on the wipers to clear away some bugs. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Oh sweetheart, I’m sure he’s over it by now. Have you even called him? You two have been inseparable for years, that just doesn’t go away overnight.”

“You know what mom, you're right I shouldn’t be talking while driving.”

“Dale Munk, if you hang up on me now-”

“What’s that? I can’t hear you. Must be losing signal.”

“Dale!”

“What?” Dale yelled before quickly snapping closed his flip phone and tossing it into the passenger's seat. A long sigh left his lips as he sat in silence for a moment.

“That’s going to be harder to do in person…” He said to himself as he started to tune the radio, pausing when Janet Jackson could be heard. “Gonna be a long week…”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“I am not funding another one of your independent films.”

Dale laughed as he switched lanes to let the car behind him pass. “It’s not about that.”

“Then why are you visiting me?”

“Can a guy not come visit his mother, whom he loves so, so very much, just for the sake of visiting her?”

“You, Dale Monk, are not just some guy going to visit his mother.”

Dale hesitated for a moment. “Trixie told me you were in the hospital.”

There was a muffled curse across the line. Dale pictured his mother holding the phone to her chest before she responded.

“Your sister worries too much. I just spent too long in the sun, is all. Doctor said I needed more vitamin D, apparently it’s common to be lacking in it here due to all the overcast, so I figured I’d go soak some up since the sun was out. I lost track of time and that nosey young neighbor called the police saying I was dead in my own backyard. You know, I think they just want to try to steal my land.”

“I’m sure the Bruch couple isn’t trying to steal your land. There’s a housing crash, so I doubt they could afford it.”

“Fine, they were just being nosey then. Now turn around. I’m fine. I don’t want you visiting out of pity.”

“I’m not visiting out of pity. I have a few weeks in between films and I want to go see my mom.”

“You didn’t get kicked out of your apartment again did you?”

“Mom, that was like fifteen years ago. I own my own condo.”

“Then go home to that.”

“I’m already on I-5, you might as well let me know what you want from the deli cause I’m practically there.”

“The deli closed a few months ago, you’ll have to go to Ralphs.”

“Oh, well that’s a shame. I was looking forward to a french dip.”

“They have dips at Ralphs.”

“Yeah, but, Evan makes the best dips.”

“Evan moved to Portland.”

“Oh. Good for him.”

“His mother told me he’s got a boyfriend up there, and they’re going to open a food truck together.”

“That sounds lovely.” Dale said with a soft sigh. He knew exactly where this was headed.

“You know, you could find a boy to open a food truck with.”

“Too bad I’m just as bad at dating as I am cooking.”

“You should be spending your time off trying to find a date that works with you, you know your brother is about to remarry. ”

“Third time’s a charm.” Dale mumbled.

“Be nice to your brother, at least he’s trying. Whatever happened to Chip? You two were a cute couple.”

“Mom, Once more, we were never dating. I know you think it’s some ‘90’s in the closet thing, but I assure you it isn’t. I got to go anyway, my agent is calling. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“I’m telling you I am fine!”

“I know, love you, see you soon.”

She sighed again. “Love you bye.”

Dale ended the call and sighed. He carefully naviaged his phone into playing an audiobook over its ancient speakers. He had a long drive ahead of him, and might as well make the most of it.

~*~*~*~*~

Dale shifted uncomfortably in the seat of his rental. He needed to go fast, and feared his own vehicle would’ve had some kind of issue and slowed him down. He had barely bothered to throw a bag together, and was still dressed for the gala minus the jacket. He reached up and unbuttoned a few buttons as he instructed the voice controls to call his mother.

“Dale?” Her weak answer had come over the line. There was a tremor to it he hadn’t heard in their last conversation just days before.

“Hey mom.” He said softly, eyes already watering at the fragility in her voice. “I am on my way, I will be there as fast as I can be.”

“Oh sweetheart… I’m fine.” She breathes out before a choking cough takes a hold of her. “I just…”

“Got too much sun again?” He jokes, unsure of what he should say.

“Don’t want to lose out on that vitamin D. You know Oregonians tend to have a deficiency.” Her laugh sounded like it had been laced with static and made the hairs on his neck stand up.

“Someone told me that once.”

“Are they coming with you? They sound smart.”

“No, it’s just me.” Dale says with a laugh. Even in what could be her last moments she still wanted him to bring home a date. “How messed up would that be. ‘Hey, I know we just met but I want you to meet my dying mother really quick.”

She laughed that thick static filled laugh again. He could hear her start to say something when another voice is picked up by the phone.

There is a muffled conversation as Dale merges into another lane, his sisters voice then rings across the line.

“She is holding in there, but needs rest. The doctors have her medicated but they don’t know how long she’ll last. How far out are you?”

“I’ve still got about ten hours left of driving. Trix you have to keep me updated.”

“Don’t worry mama’s boy, I will. Just get here safely, we think she’s waiting on you.”

Dale tried to choke down the sob that hit him at those words. “Okay, I’ll do my best.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The car is silent as Dale once again merges onto the I-5. Three weeks spent sorting out funerals and possessions. The house was technically his, having bought it almost twenty years ago for his mother to retire into. But he knew he wasn’t going to go back to it, so he gifted it to his sister to sell. His brother had showed up to help sort through all the things.

An entire life divided up into Donation, Dump, Divy as the three of them sorted it over.

He had a few boxes in his trunk, mostly with his childhood things that he chose to keep, but there were two boxes in particular that burned a hole in his brain. Dale looked through the rearview, eyes flickering momentarily to the two matching white boxes, one labeled Dale, the other Chip.

When going through the attic his sister had found a set of boxes labeled for each of them, and a fourth box labeled for Chip. None of them knew of the existence of these boxes before, and their stark white exterior left no clues as to what they contained.

Dale knows he should go home and just open them. Or he should just drop Chip’s box off at his house and leave it at that. As much as he is dying to know what’s inside, he also cannot bear the thought. As he pulls back into the strange town of Elias, he feels the urge to get back to work. So he flicked on his blinker and turned towards headquarters.

He was going to have a lot of apologies to make.

#Solo-Dale #Self-para #idk if this is anything but the idea wouldn't leave me alone #tw: mentions of loss #tw: mentions of death #Someone dies but it's off- screen

6 notes · View notes

loser-brain · 6 months

Text

This is a vent and rant post.

word length: 1029

My mother gave me a lecture earlier about life and how she's worried for me. How I don't have a job and I should get out there and live life and earn money... totally ignoring that my hands are fucked up.

Even when I told her that the doc I went to see to help fix my hands gave me the okay to keep doing art but to avoid repetitive work, such as factory work (which my mother wants me to do). You know what she told me, mind you, she NEVER met my doc.

Your doctor actually told me that you can work in factory work.

BITCH NO HE DID NOT. HE LITERALLY WANTS ME TO AVOID WORK because of how young I am. That is a concern to him that a young woman (at the time 19-20) was already showing signs of nerve damage in the hands. THAT'S BAD. LIKE REALLY BAD.

I'm still in pain and honestly, I've held my tongue because I have expressed that the pain is back and it hurts. And you wanna know what my mother told me when I mentioned that to her two years ago.

That's impossible, I literally paid a doctor to fix your hands. You're making it up because YOU don't want to work.

This isn't a surgeon doc this is more of a physical therapy professional. But still, he doesn't recommend me to get surgery because there is still a high chance that me going through all of that would be a waste because the pain would either linger like now or worse BECOME worse than it already is.

I've tried so hard to explain to her what my doctor has told me but no. She's a narcissist, very self-absorbed with herself (to the point she will not stop using HERSELF as an example), thinking having carpal tunnel is the same as what I'm experiencing (When really the doc and my other doc could not figure out what the fuck was wrong with my hands so they had to conclude that it was similar TO carpal tunnel and dominant hand injury (both of my hands hurt at the time now the pain had traveled to my arms. But like I said, I've sucked it up and bit my tongue because they, my family, will not listen to me anymore)).

You wanna know how this WHOLE conversation started...

I literally was just loud last night. Having a fun time with my friends and watching them play games, chatting with them, and also drawing art with them as well.

That is what started this conversation.

And here's the thing. Yeah, my art work scheduled is slow, but I'm not stopping. I'm constantly looking out for new ways to help my small shop to grow. Granted this year, was by far the slowest and not very motivating year. But I'm learning to grow. I'm finding out a schedule that works for me. and it's very frustrating that I have to explain myself that I am trying to be a freelancer. It really is.

Like I'm serious, when I say, I'm trying to work (such as making new designs or doing commissions) you wanna know what happens next... I get yelled at by my mother. Berated how I don't work and how I'm lazy.

It pisses me off it really does. AND it's upsetting. It hurts so damn much. Especially, if you have read my old rants about how I was treated like a punching bag. How I had to keep the house clean (I still do it) because it would look like a party took place because I'M HOME.

It hurts. It's upsetting. This isn't the first time she did this either. EVERY. TIME. I have fun with my friends online it's always, "oh? you have friends, You should go out more, get a job, oh my god are you sad, it must be lonely, you don't know how to take care of yourself—"

I MOVED TO A NEW STATE FOR COLLEGE. I TOOK CARE OF MYSELF WITH ROOMMATES. I HAD TO BE SMART AND FINANCE MY MONEY WISELY SUCH AS NOT BUYING LUXURY ITEMS EVERY DAY. I HAD TO WALK IN A DANGEROUS NEIGHBORHOOD JUST TO GET MORE ART SUPPLIES FOR MY CLASSES. I TAUGHT MYSELF HOW TO COOK. HOW TO CLEAN AND NOT MAKE MUSTER GAS ON ACCIDENT. I LEARNED SO MUCH IN COLLEGE THAN I WOULD HAVE EVER LEARNED AT HOME. BECAUSE SHE REFUSED TO TEACH ME HOW TO DO IT.

yeah, I can't drive a car... because ✨ trauma ✨ and yeah... I made a post about it too. You wanna know who gave me that trauma... my mother :')

And to conclude, that makes me laugh every time. I no longer go see a therapist because get closer... my problem is my environment and how it revolves around my mother. The problem is that my mother constantly meddled in my life the moment I START becoming an individual. Because she's slowly losing the one person in her life that would stick with her. So she wants to be seen as a savior because that is how she was with other people. She helps people, but when someone rejects her help she gets defensive... for no reason.

I love my mother, English is not her first language so of course we would be hitting some language barrier because she just doesn't understand a word. But I'm slow and have tried so many times to make her understand. I'm fine.

Arm wise, no I'm actually in pain typing all of this. Like it hurts like hell right now. But like, yeah, I'm fine, could be better, but at the same time, I'm making it work.

I've mellowed out now but man, I was really mad and upset that she just kept doing this every time I'm having a blast with my friends. Should I be more quiet, yes. Is it upsetting that she kept doing this, yeah, it really is. It hurts a lot.

Sorry for venting I need to get this out of my system because I know damn well this will not be the last.

#rant #vent #sorry im rambling

0 notes

wynskieeee · 7 months

Text

It's Me and My Unready Self, Taking the Risk Towards the World of College

Today, I will tell you a story about a small town kid with a dream and always pushing things beyond his limitations. He lived in place surrounded with people that loved him. Every summer vacation is the most awaited season of this kid. Few weeks before the summer vacation this kid already teasing his parents to allow him to go to Banate, Iloilo where his father originally lived. When he is already there, every morning he woke up early and play with his cousins, swam at the river and eat all the fruits in the farm of his grand parents. He carried all of those precious memories growing up that shaped him for who he is today and that is me.

Hello, I am Wynskie G. Peña and I am 20 years old, studying at the University of San Agustin-Iloilo, taking up Bachelor of Science in Business Administration Major in Marketing Management. I am originated from Victorias City, Negros Occidental and since I turned college I stay here in Iloilo up until now. This course I am taking right now is not in the list of my choices before. Honestly, I want to stop and take a gap year just to make a decision for the course that I'm going to take. But my parents wouldn't allow me to do it, they told me that it's just a waste of time and I was forced to go to college even if I wasn't ready especially with the course I'm going to take. Eventually, my cousin who is studying before in the University of San Agustin who also took the course as what I am taking right now, she approached me and we've talked about the university as well as the course that she was taking. From that day forward, I've made my decision to also take the course she took and study here in the University of San Agustin even I'm not a hundred percent sure with the course I'm going to take. Weeks after we talked, I travelled to Iloilo City and I enroll in the university and the rest is history.

At the present time, I'm in my junior year in college although in the outset it is not easy because taking this course feels like also taking a risk since it was not in my list and it's a new environment knowing nothing and I don't have friends. But as time goes I enjoy my course and my college life was bearable since I have friends in the university and some of them I consider a family. The risk I took made me happy owing to fact that I don't have regrets after all. Even I may not know what the future holds, nevertheless I know that this is where I belong.

And I think that's all for this time, I hope you get to know a bit me in this slice of my life. See you on my next one!

Hasta la vista!

1 note · View note

xtruss · 1 year

Text

The Making of Jackie Kennedy

As a student in Paris and a photographer at the Washington Times-Herald, the future First Lady worked behind the lens to bring her own ideas into focus.

— By Thomas Mallon | May 1, 2023

Jacqueline Bouvier preferred devising her own curricula, subordinating formal schooling to the education of adventure. Photograph by Richard Rutledge

Less than a decade before she became the world’s most photographed woman, Jacqueline Bouvier regularly worked behind a camera for the Washington Times-Herald, soliciting opinions from the capital’s ordinary residents and taking their pictures. “Camera Girl,” Carl Sferrazza Anthony’s new biography of the young Jackie, illuminates this portion of her life; the chapter titled “Inauguration” does not take a reader to the snowy, ask-not-what, pillbox-hatted noontime of January 20, 1961, but to the day, eight years earlier, when Dwight Eisenhower assumed the Presidency. That afternoon, Jackie was on assignment for the paper, writing a feature about the people who had turned out for Ike’s parade. That night, she attended an inaugural ball as a guest of the new Massachusetts senator John F. Kennedy.

The real business of her evening was conducted during a cocktail party at Kennedy’s house. The senator’s friend Lem Billings told Miss Bouvier that anyone who married Jack would “have to be very understanding” about how he “had been around an awful lot” and “known many, many girls.” However delicately put, the message was as clear as a declaration that the United States intended to remain in Berlin: Kennedy’s bride should expect him to continue cultivating and maintaining a vast array of female alliances.

“Camera Girl” (Gallery) makes plain that the young Jackie was clever and educable, a woman who preferred her own curricula—books, socializing, and travel—to anything imposed by the schools that she attended. Two years at Vassar, in Poughkeepsie, left her unimpressed. Anthony offers some shaky evidence that she may have been expelled for breaking curfew, but the likelier explanation for her departure was that she’d spent her junior year at the Sorbonne, through a Smith College study-abroad program, without Vassar’s permission.

It was in postwar Paris, Anthony writes, that Jackie perfected a knowledge of “how to be ‘on,’ to make an intentional impression, to invent herself into a character.” She acquired a small Leica camera and brought it on her travels throughout France, subordinating schooling to adventure, though she managed to do fine at both. On June 9, 1950, she wrote to her mother:

I’ve had three of my four exams already and all went quite well. My international relations one was on the opposing policies of Austria-Hungary and Russia in the Balkans from 1900-1914. The night before I got in from . . . the biggest ball of the season in Paris in this beautiful old 17th century house on the Ille-St.-Louis . . . I got in at 6 a.m. and had the exam from 8:30 a.m. till noon, then went out to lunch . . . quite a day, but I knew all about the Balkans!

No wonder she didn’t want to go back to Poughkeepsie. Her mother didn’t want her to, either, but only out of bitter opposition to Jackie’s father, who craved her return. Janet Norton Lee and John (Black Jack) Bouvier had been divorced for a decade, and Jackie was an asset that they continually contested. Janet, living outside New York, worried that Jackie would fall into Black Jack’s Manhattan orbit after graduating from Vassar; he had invited Jackie to live with him and promised her a job on Wall Street. When his daughter left the school, Bouvier was “crushed,” unaware that in this instance Jackie welcomed her mother’s manipulation. His relatives believed that the defeat accelerated his drinking and self-isolation, though he had been in decline, financially and otherwise, since the mid-nineteen-thirties, when his brand of venturesome stock-brokering was reined in by the man Franklin Roosevelt appointed to be the first S.E.C. chair, Joseph P. Kennedy.

Jackie photographs a woman feeding goldfish in a rooftop pond above the offices of the Times-Herald, in 1952. Photograph from Bettmann/Getty

Janet, however, was unyielding. Jackie, accustomed from an early age to her mother’s rages, once pronounced her to be scarier than Stalin. Janet never stopped phonying up her Irish ancestry into something more Waspish and aristocratic. (Jackie was never so flagrant, but when fame arrived she clearly didn’t mind the American public believing that she was more than one-eighth French.) Janet eventually found stability in her union to the quiet and very wealthy Hugh Auchincloss, and she urged each of her daughters to focus on making a prosperous marriage, even if it was as dull as her own. When Jack Kennedy came along, Janet did not like his line of work, preferring Jackie’s first fiancé, a young Wall Streeter named John Husted, until she found out how little money of his own Husted had to manage.

After coming home from France in the late summer of 1950, Jackie again fell under Janet’s control. She decided to complete her undergraduate degree as a French-literature major at George Washington University, then an unexceptional, racially segregated school, much overshadowed by Georgetown. Many G.W. students were commuters, but Jackie was the only one who made the daily trip from Merrywood, an estate across the Potomac which Hugh Auchincloss had purchased in 1930. G.W., now more residential, has a Jacqueline Bouvier Kennedy Onassis dormitory on I Street, with a bas-relief of young Jackie on a plaque by the front entrance.

From 1950 to 1951, she was serious about her studies, but not enough absorbed by life at the school to have her yearbook picture taken; one finds no trace of her in the 1951 Cherry Tree. Two years after Jackie’s graduation, Joseph P. Kennedy’s publicist included the Sorbonne but not G.W. in a press release announcing Miss Bouvier’s engagement to his son. The desired effect was of a balanced marital ticket: an old Continental family, the Bouviers, soldering its quiet sort of glamour to the Kennedys’ arriviste kind.

During her year at G.W., Jackie set her heart on winning Vogue’s Prix de Paris contest, which promised six months of training in the magazine’s New York offices and a return to Paris, this time as a junior editor. Anthony gives a detailed account of the rigorous application process—round after round of writing essays and critiquing layouts—and he establishes the zealous flair of Jackie’s approach. “I could be a sort of Overall Art Director of the Twentieth Century,” she wrote to the judges, “watching everything from a chair hanging in space.” The biographer forgives his subject a bit of résumé finagling and a couple of small lies deployed in order to secure a deadline extension.

Jackie won the contest, went up to Manhattan, and was photographed for the magazine by Richard Routledge. (His picture is the basis for that G.W. bas-relief.) But, in the end, she turned down the prize. Janet, who wanted to prevent the proximity to Black Jack that would come with those six months in New York, insisted. Jackie sent her mother a dead snake inside a hatbox, but she knuckled under all the same.

In October, 1951, Jackie got a job at the Washington Times-Herald, after Auchincloss asked the columnist Arthur Krock to put in a good word for his stepdaughter. Krock had been instrumental, years before, in getting the paper to hire Jack Kennedy’s wartime girlfriend Inga Arvad, and also his favorite sister, Kathleen (Kick) Kennedy. Anthony goes so far as to say, not implausibly, that Jackie’s working at the Times-Herald “would inevitably evoke memories of the two women who had meant more to Kennedy than any others—a significant factor in Jack Kennedy’s early perception of her.” Again, Jackie’s commute began from Merrywood, which—Anthony doesn’t mention—was built, in 1919, for Newbold Noyes, Sr., a co-owner of the venerable Washington Evening Star, one of the Times-Herald’s competitors.

Frank Waldrop, the editor who hired Jackie, later recalled, “I’d seen her type. Little society girls with dreams of writing the great American novel, who drop it the minute they find the great American husband.” Yes and no. Though Anthony doesn’t depict it, mid-nineteen-fifties Washington was a lively place for aspiring newswomen eager to buck the prejudices and the odds. Selwa (Lucky) Roosevelt, who had been Jackie’s classmate at Vassar, was married to Theodore Roosevelt’s grandson Archie, a C.I.A. agent, when she began writing a well-connected column for the Star called “Diplomatically Speaking.” In her memoirs, she writes, “Until then, society reporters simply described the food, flowers, decor, clothes, and entertainment, and gave a complete list of guests. They did not look for the political or international implications of who was there and who wasn’t, who spoke to whom and who didn’t.” Nancy Dickerson, a young CBS radio and television producer before she became a famous on-air correspondent, made both a notable career and—from the viewpoint of someone like Janet Auchincloss—a financially enviable marriage. In 1964, she and her husband, a businessman, bought Merrywood. When it came to literary talent and professional longevity, the most distinguished of the era’s women journalists was the resolutely single Mary McGrory, who—except for the composition of a few political profiles—spent years on the Star’s book-review desk before being allowed to write sharp, stylish commentary about the Senate during the Army-McCarthy hearings, in 1954.

Seeking the same sort of break during her early days at the Times-Herald, Jackie chased after Princess Elizabeth, hoping to produce a feature when the future monarch came to Washington. She was unsuccessful, but the princess’s visit brought an unexpected opportunity. Waldrop assigned Jackie to the rotating, uncredited “Inquiring Photographer” slot, and she decided to ask six of the paper’s photographers, “Is Princess Elizabeth as pretty as her picture?” The column was soon hers, with a byline, and renamed “Inquiring Camera Girl.” Her twenty-month run with it is the charming and surprisingly informative heart of Anthony’s book.

Jackie took thumbnail pictures of her subjects with a big, heavy Speed Graflex, which she learned to use at the Capitol School of Photography. “Published six days a week,” Anthony explains, “the column averaged 144 individual interviews monthly—a total of nearly 2,600 people by the time she left the job.” Jackie occasionally persuaded celebrities and personal acquaintances—even John Husted and “Mummy”—to take a crack at answering the queries she invented for the column. They ranged from the silly (“Why do you think so many people crack corny jokes in elevators?”) to the semi-profound (“What are people most living for?”) and the oddly prescient (“Are women’s clubs right in demanding Marilyn Monroe be less suggestive?”). She sought respondents across class and racial lines, and when she wasn’t asking about things in the news (Christine Jorgensen’s gender-transition surgery) she sometimes posed questions that were on her own mind.

As the “Inquiring Camera Girl,” Jackie interviewed nearly twenty-six hundred people from November, 1951, to June, 1953.Photograph courtesy John F. Kennedy Presidential Library

Anthony does nice work, without fetching too far, when he ties the column’s subject matter to Jackie’s biographical time line. Around the time of Husted’s proposal, she asked interviewees, “Should a girl pass up sound matrimonial prospects to wait for her ideal man?” Later on, when things got more serious with Kennedy, her questions followed suit: “Can you give me any reason why a contented bachelor should get married?” and “The Irish author, Sean O’Faolain, claims that the Irish are deficient in the art of love. Do you agree?” As she experienced a bit of Kennedy’s 1952 Senate campaign, she asked, “Should a candidate’s wife campaign with her husband?” Her low moods and her frustrations with Waldrop were occasional subtexts; Anthony notes that the editor “threatened to fire her when she asked pedestrians what local newspaper they liked best and printed responses that chose the competition.”

There was wit to what she did, and it earned her the chance to write bigger pieces, illustrated with her own ink sketches, not only on Eisenhower’s inaugural but also on Princess Elizabeth’s coronation. In June, 1953, Kennedy sent a telegram to his fiancée in London—“articles excellent—but you are missed”—his “second and final courtship ‘love letter,’ ” according to Anthony.

The political calculations that went into his family’s approach to the marriage can make the Windsors’ vetting of Lady Diana Spencer seem quick and humane. Anthony writes that Gore Vidal—another Auchincloss stepchild, from an earlier marriage—remembered Jackie saying that Jack and Joe and Bobby “spoke of me as if I weren’t a person, just a thing, just a sort of asset, like Rhode Island.” But Jackie wanted what she knew she was getting into. Anthony astutely conveys the couple’s “mutual ambition” and shared emotional reticence: “Jackie was similarly unwilling to fully express her feelings, making them a comfortable match.” Kennedy blamed his chilly mother for his own “inability to easily express emotion,” a deprivation to which his bride could relate. Both had also grown up with fierce but feeling fathers. Jackie liked Joe from the start, and she knew exactly how to relate to the old shark—“You ought to write a series of grandfather stories for children, like, The Duck with Moxie”—a skill that excited envy in her future sisters-in-law.

Anthony has made a career of First Ladies, with writings ranging from the anecdotal to the deeply researched; his lengthy, surprising biography of Florence Harding appeared in 1998. With Jackie, he tries to avoid hagiography, but, more than a bit smitten, he sometimes fails, as when he mistakes a little mastery of conventional wisdom for “a deep discernment about the creative process.” He displays a desire to make the most—which is to say, too much—of a research report that Jackie prepared for Kennedy in 1953 on the French war in Indochina, presenting it as the cornerstone of a great moral partnership, whereas Jackie herself remembered it mostly as a tedious exercise in translation. Nonetheless, Anthony likes to believe that, as she worked, “in her imagination . . . Jackie was in the streets of Saigon and the rice fields near Hanoi.”

The title “Camera Girl,” drawn from her column’s rubric, implies the importance of images to Anthony’s book. He starts with a chapter about how, in mid-1949, “employing their enmity to her advantage,” Jackie extracted from each of her parents more than the amount of money she needed to buy the camera she wanted to take to France. Though Anthony places a lot of emphasis on this “little Leica,” he includes, among the dozens of photographs in the book, very few images that Jackie might have taken with it.

It is reasonable for the author to resist lunging too frequently into the future, but readers will inevitably project themselves forward into the next phases of Jackie’s life, when she became almost subordinate to the representations made of her by others: the photographs of Jacques Lowe; the 8-mm. frames of Abraham Zapruder; the silk screens by Warhol; the shots by the paparazzo Ron Galella, her tormentor on the streets of Manhattan. Galella died last year, but his Web site still carries an account of how he took “the most purchased, most recognized, most talked about, most significant photo [he] ever captured,” the one he called “Windblown Jackie,” in October, 1971. He was in a taxi at the corner of Madison and Ninetieth, and Jackie turned to face him in response to the driver’s honking. “It’s a superior picture,” Galella wrote, “like DaVinci’s most famous painting, the Mona Lisa.” When Galella kept at it, a “furious Jackie” asked him, “Are you pleased with yourself?”

She can be forgiven for forgetting a time when she was the hunter and not the game. Frank Waldrop put her on probation for ambush-interviewing two of President-elect Eisenhower’s young nieces on their way home from school. That happened a few years after a museum guard chased her out of a gallery at the Louvre when he saw her taking pictures of “DaVinci’s most famous painting.” Jackie wished, Anthony says, “to disprove the popular myth that the eyes of the Mona Lisa were always gazing directly back at the person looking at her.” The angry guard asked, “Who do you think you are?” She didn’t yet know, but she was steadily moving toward an answer. ♦

1 note · View note

benefits1986 · 1 year

Text

JOMO & Freedive

The only time you’ll see how precious the breath is comes when you’re down to your last one. Trigger warning: Just in case you’re in the multiverse of suicide or have someone who’s battling it, this may be one curious read. Maybe, just, maybe. 2012. The year mother dragon left me after 8 years of trying to cheat death together. It was also the year when I got accepted in my masters in my dream school which took forever. More so, I also got my first dibs in photography; however, I found myself in a really hopeless state and while I’ve been looking totally fine and unbothered outside, my insides are rotting in pain, in anger, in confusion. My salvation to hopefully end things in a poetic way? Solo adventure travels. Since her last night on earth coincided with my 26th birthday, I always go out of Manila to escape the messy brain and fucked up spirit --all that was left of me when I thought I can friggin’ slay it all and slay them all. This spiral was not something I saw coming since I always get a thing I focus on how I want it, when I want it and where I want it. Losing mom didn’t just feel as though I was thrown under a train. Every birthday was a reminder of how much I failed her, and failed me, too. I thought we’d make it but all the while, I was building a fortress laced in fantasy to mask the harsh realities that are obviously bound to happen anyway, any time. Even when I knew I was cheating death with mom, even if we’ve been giving 10 years max, deep inside, I wanted more time, more years, more memories and more stories with her. I simply wanted to live a normal life as a 20-something then; but, the truth is that I didn’t bother giving a fuck about was that our timeline is a weird one as it is bound by mom being a case study while I try to manage every tiny bit of detail I can control. Defying statistics even when it’s really impossible was my drug.

Eventually, mom’s body started shutting down. Me? Not shutting up as I convinced her to give things one more try. Looking back, she was not afraid of dying. Truth is, I was so afraid of losing her. She has been my rock in whatever season but that rock was shaken and is no longer solid. I didn’t budge. I can’t be moved, or at least, I thought so. Losing mom is a tabula rasa, supposedly one that could have been full of new beginnings, of new hope filled with an avalanche of blessings. Moving this tabula rasa, though is where I slipped, fell and spiraled. I felt that all the new beginnings I’ve been handed are but shabby consolation prizes. I still kept her SMS where she told me how proud she is that two of my bucket lists are coming back to back in 2012. I questioned why can’t I have it all for once in my life? I have two hands, both are able and willing, but it seemed like my two hands were not enough to catch mom with my right and my dreams with my left. Was that too much to ask? Was it?

The thing about mid-20s is that usually, people feel they’ve reached the pinnacle of adulthood. LOL. Blame it on crappy media that makes people see that 30s is the be-all, end-all game. Mid-20s is a social construct where people scramble to “living their lives like they’re golden” era. Marriage, career, starting a family, building a dream home, cars, travels... you name it. Truth is, your mid-20s is where you’re likely to make off the roof mistakes, learn from them and eventually, bring the lessons to your 30s and 40s. I actually looked past all these social constructs because my game, my only one, is mother dragon. I wanted to let her see how my 30-something self will look and feel like.

Hitting the big 3-0 with a bang is but a dream, a media monopoly dream with consumerism at its core. Can’t believe I’m able to say this, but I feel fine at 37. Not as young but not too old. And that, I’ve already been able to inch my way to stop comparing ME to ME. I realized that I’ve not been only been comparing my timeline to other people’s timeline. The worst bit? I compare myself to my vision of myself that wasn’t tested by time and tribulations. While I get validation and affirmation, my measuring stick does not match my realities. When I fail, I triple down on punishing myself when no one is watching via really bad self-talk. I thought that zooming in only on my darkest shadows and not appreciating the lovely ambient lights that go with is the best way to keep me aligned, to keep me grounded. Later, I found myself five feet under the ground, almost pointless, almost non-existent, deep down. So, where does FOMO and freedive enter the frame? A while ago, dad and I watched a Coron EP, a random view that brought back Coron in 2018. It was where dad and I started to patch up of dynamics and jumpstarted our connection. Since dad is my YES man, he just shrugged his shoulders when I egged our tour guide to show me how to freedive. I reasoned out that since I love to swim and that the water is so still, giving freediving a go in the beautiful Barracuda Lake is a must try. The thing is I didn’t have any freediving lessons. Dad was on his toes but I assured him that since our guide is also a lifeguard, if all else fails, he’d rescue me. I was also able to use two things why I’d swing this. First, dad taught me how to swim by literally making me do cliff dives since I was in 5 complete with river rapids. By 6 or 7, I can happily jump off bigger cliffs even if those jumps resulted to bruises and cuts. Second, I’ve been a water baby since 9 months. LOL. Also, was able to take swimming lessons since Grade 3 until Grade 6. After a stick of cig, the tour guide and I started with the basics. Task one was to hang onto to the poles under the walkway. It’s to test if I can go deep in the water without panicking. As I went down, my heart leaped as I was greeted by an awesome shade of “clear” blue and rock formations that are so otherworldly. A few more practices later, the tour guide said that it’s time to give my first freedive a shot. He handed me the googles but I didn’t go with flippers. He was taken aback but agreed. He told me again that I just have one breath to manage and that I should not go too deep as it was my first time. He pushed me into the clear blue still water and I was able to swim deep, then deeper and deeper. I looked around and saw my tour guide and dad from above watching me. I got a little deeper still as I felt like on top of this lake’s universe. Funny, I know; but that’s how I felt, really. I had this lake all to myself, too. Then I stopped. Looked up and realized that I must have gotten too deeply. I tried to stay calm and focused even when my heart is pounding with excitement and fear. I wanted to stay here, but I am running out of breath.

Right there at the bottom of the lake, I was faced with yet another “solo adventure travel” chance to end it all. Poetic. Check. One for the books. Check. Convenient and fast. Check. I closed my eyes and felt mother dragon’s warmth as though she was saying that one breath is all I have, and one breath is all it takes. Must be watching Harry Potter x Game of Thrones x Black Mirror way too much, hence this particular scene. I opened my eye and looked up. Dad is waiting for me and it brought me back to the time when I jumped from a cliff a little too high and was too distracted because my cuts and bruises roared louder than usual. I had to go back. I wanted to go back. I may be running out of breath, but I am still breathing; only more alive, this time around. Anxiety built up because I’ve gotten too deep, indeed. My breath was running out faster than I thought. One of the best lessons I got real quick from the tour guide was that I need not worry because the water here is a mix of salty and fresh. I just had to keep still and eventually, I will float up the surface. I stopped dead for a moment to manage my anxiety. When I felt the stillness of the clear blue water once more, I the flow to take over. My head popped out of Barracuda Lake and I live to tell this tiny tale.

My GoPro died so this core memory was not captured; but, hey, the best memories are those that don’t usually have snaps, right? Memories like this one feel more alive when you try to freeze them in your head and spirit. And here is where JOMO comes in. JOMO means JOY OF MISSING OUT. Been floating the past years but still not getting enough traction, though I believe it’s its way. Live for stories that makes you more alive and allows you to take every single breath of take with full intention. It’s a small “we’re all but one breath”world, after all. How does JOMO look like? It’s when you choose to stay still even when the world is shaking about non-essentials. It’s picking your fights because it’s better to be loving than to be right. It’s when you look at the mirror and decide to be kinder to yourself. It’s when you stop looking at The Feed to stop feeding The Greed. It’s when you give more thanks, rather than asking for more. It’s when you find sheer joy in “LET IT BE” instead of being too immersed in A HARD DAY’S NIGHT, yet again. JOMO be with you!

0 notes

simplymekaty · 1 year

Text

Good, bad & everything inbetween

I've really been struggling with my mental health the past 3+ months. More than I ever have. I have been afflicted with frequent episodes of 'weirdness'...this feeling is so hard to explain...like I become hyper aware that I cannot see myself - that all I ever see is my reflection. I also have odd moments of being unable to complete the most innocuous of tasks e.g. buttering some toast, without feeling like I am on the outside of my body and my hands can't handle the simple little manoeuvres required. It's not like it's an out of body hokey depersonalisation feeling where I am on the outside looking in at myself. Well it is in so much as I FEEL like I am on the outside of my body but sort of not at the same time because I am still unable to see myself. I told you...it's weird as fuck.

I feel like I am going mad in moments like this. Like I'm high on some psychedelic medication but it's certainly not a feeling I've ever experienced when taking any prescribed or unprescribed drugs.

The headaches that come afterwards are a killer too. Part of me assumes it's all the chemo hangover and I know that I am only 8 months post treatment and my body is still dealing with the chemo aftermath and that I shouldn't be too hard on myself or worry. I mean, I'm not worried at all actually. It's just so unpleasant dealing with this and feeling out of control.

I haven't helped myself by limiting my social interactions the last few months because of it. Which is massively unlike me. We are weaning me off one antidepressant & replacing it with another in the hopes they give me the much needed serotonin & noradrenaline boost that I so desperately need.

I've never been one of those people who is ashamed to admit when I am battling with my own thoughts but I do find being geographically separated from my closest friends quite difficult at times and can become a little reclusive when I don't have the energy to travel to see people. I am a lover of video chats now after always shunning them pre-COVID so that helps me stay connected but I am definitely a shadow of my former social butterfly-like self.

I wonder in part if my mental health struggles are to do with turning 50 this year & being very aware of my own mortality. I mean, sheesh...I'm too young to be this old right. And I think as well I'm very conscious that my Mom passed away at 63 and I am only 14 years away from that, which I know rationally is ridiculous. But it's there.

And it isn't that I am afraid of dying either. I think that's why I handled my whole Cancer journey as well as I did. I'm not afraid to die. It's the one sure thing in life. Death. The end. It has more to do with the fact that if I only have 15 years left on this planet, that's not a lot of time to do the things I wanna do and spend time with the people I care about. I mean hell, even if I love another 20 - 30 years that's still not enough time is it. Especially as with some friends, like those in the U.S.A, I may only see them once every 3 or 4 years or so...which might mean I only get to see them 2 or 3 times before I or any one of us does actually die. It might seem maudlin but it's just an inescapable fact.

I guess also, even though I never thought I'd settle down with someone, I should have by now, in theory, been married. And even though that wasn't something I'd ever dreamed about, part of me is sad that I won't ever get to experience that. And knowing I won't ever fall fearlessly & hopelessly in love again, that really sucks. I miss being in love. A whole lot. Though it's only fleetingly wistful these days. I refuse to get bogged down in 'whatcouldhavebeens' that stuff just eats your brain & I'm done with that.

I started to write a list of stuff that I love to do with the promise to do more of it, on my own if I have to because that girl who turned her life upside down more than once for other people, she can sure as hell do it again as a nearly 50 year old woman, but this time for herself.

So, that being said...I will always be honest about my feelings and not hold back just because I feel I might be too much for someone or be afraid of reactions.

I will do more of the things I love like camping (who knew), reading or listening to music by camp or log fire home or away, engaging in late night til sunrise talks with people who feed my soul, go to the gig - on my own if I have to, go on long roadtrip vacations & stay in log cabins on my favourite lakes & wake up to go wild skinny dipping. I will say Yes to any & all invitations to do any activity I've never done before or that I've always been too scared to do.

I will face my demons head on and refuse to let my soul be haunted by old ghosts.

What will be will be, but I will face everything from now on with that enduring spirit that has got me to where I am now. I am strong, I am resilient and I may have been down the last 3 years but I am not out.

I want to leave this earth with a head full of fantastic memories of the things I had the courage to do, not a heart filled with regret.

#simplymekaty #stronger #beating depression #love #thoughts #musings #no regrets #face your fears

1 note · View note

thedivinefish · 2 years

Text

TGIWednesday... I smell smoke!

TGIWednesday News

Just like anybody else, if I drink too much iced tea or coffee, I can get heart palpitations and monkey mind, self-deprecating, racy thoughts like you’ve never seen! And last week was one of those days. We decided to walk down to our local massage place and at least get foot massages. As soon as I sat down I started hearing sirens one after the other. We live near the hospital and we all know that horrific hook and ladder firetruck noise, and that was going by us too! All I could think about was, did my little girlfriend remember to blow out the candle in the living room? Would we return to a roaring blaze way past the marshmallow stage? Was I nuts or was I smelling smoke? Where would I go? What would I do if I were to lose the nearly 100 year old family home? I said prayers, I let it all go and I fished it all out and even realized those were not even my thoughts, let alone my home, that was having the issue. Someone else’s home? Cat in a tree? ....shut up and enjoy the foot massage! When we left, I said, “Honey did you blow out the candle in the living room? And she said yes, Why? No reason, just wondered." I said. I visited my acupuncture friend in Tampa later that week and told her the above story and she said, “Jimmy, the Buddhist Temple has candles burning 24/7." And hearing that gave me several layers of confirmation and even made me smile knowing that every little thing was going to be alright! I see you letting go of worrisome overlord thoughts and actions as you read this now and you realizing that 99% of all this stuff isn’t even yours! Woo Saw as my GF always says (which stands for breathe in and breathe out and let it go), so let it go and Woo Saw indeed. Namaste.

TGIWednesday Download

~ LETTING GO ~ I believe, think, know and feel that it is safe to let go and let God as I read or hear this now, the negative evaporates off of me. I am ready, willing and able to be at peace in the zero point field of all infinite possibilities and I access the divine now. I know, when, where, how and why, to let go and have Spirit show me and tell me the infinite easier way to be at peace. I am asking in all languages and throughout all time lines and so it is. Wishing you and yours that the rest of your life will be the best of your life and I am seeing you make a little progress each and every day and all is well.

Discounted MyBeliefWorks Audios

SAVE 20% AT CHECKOUT DURING THE MONTH OF NOVEMBER!

Healing Family Relationships: An acronym for FAMILY has been said to be "F@#$ed And Mainly Interested in Limiting You. Now if you grew up in a perfect idylic movie setting family, you won't need this audio mp3 LOL but for all others, you're going to want it & share with immediated family Relieving Holiday Stress - We’ve all experienced a not so pleasant holiday or family gathering, this can make it a lot less turbulent. This one is especially good to play at low volume throughout the holidays & gatheriings. Traveling with Ease - Very popular. clears you for easy travel, getting you through the gate/customs/TSA faster, you could get an upgrade or even smoother flights and flawless connections!

NOVEMBER ZOOM EVENT

WEDNESDAY NOVEMBER 30TH 7:30pm Eastern (30 mins long) Pre-register at Calendly - Just $22 (includes reminders and replay) https://calendly.com/jmh-calls/november-2022-ywr1

THEME: Releasing the Barrier to Receiving Your Needs

There is so much to be thankful for during this time of year and when you take stock of your life, what is missing? Let's fill in the gaps. Often people deprive themselves of all levels of nourishment in order to give to others in a martyr-like fashion. If you're leaving your needs out, constantly exhausted, unable to get ahead and seem to be caught in a loop of chronic pains, this one's for you. What would it take to nourish your needs? A vacation? More money? A new romantic partner or the current one more inspired by you? Time off for good behavior?

THESE ARE THE 3 SAMPLE SENTENCES SO PLEASE FILL OUT EACH ONE AND TAKE YOUR TIME WITH IT, SIT WITH IT BEFORE SENDING TO [email protected] TOGETHER WE CAN ALL MAKE PROFOUND CHANGES!!!

1) The main barrier I see that is blocking me from receiving is______ (ie: me, a relative, work/ job/ career?)

2) I want to see myself as deserving but the main issue in my way is _____ (ie: childhood trauma, an angry spouse, sacrificing for others etc)

3) I believe I am worthy of more but the main part that’s blocking my worthiness is_____ (ie: past life issues, a parent who told me I was worthless, a lack of education, etc)

*NEW INSTRUCTIONS* Top 3 clearing submissions due to [email protected] by end of day Tuesday BEFORE the call.

*NOTE* If you are a Darius Package C buyer for Season 24, this call is INCLUDED. You will get a free registration confirmation in the coming weeks with the link to join the live event and submit your items. The replay will be on the special offer download page.

Pre-Register Here - $22

FREE Live Appearances

Watch and listen to hundreds of Radio Show replays for FREE here in the archives from the Jimmy Mack Healing Radio show.

https://thejimmymackhealingshow.com/

Fish Food

The Daily Bread To Feed The Fish

Tell the Fish - 365 Daily Inspirations and Affirmations - by Jimmy Mack NOVEMBER 9TH "Today if you have been putting off getting that lump or bump or issue looked at, today is the day to do it. Be brave and make the call, the appointment and do what it takes to improve the quality and longevity of your life?"

Come See Me in the Tampa Office

SWANN HOLISTIC HEALTH SOLUTIONS

Jimmy Mack will be offering sessions at Dr. Charla Tempone’s office at Swann Holistic Health Solutions. Get on the schedule NOW! NEXT DATE TBD | 10-4pm Please call their office directly at ?? (813) 873-7773 in order to get on the schedule for 15-minutes $45 or 30-minutes $75. If you’re new to working with him, we suggest you schedule 30 minutes. 403 S. Habana Ave. Tampa, FL 33609 Just south of Azeele next to Skin Savvy http://www.ctholisticsolutions.com/

From the Fish Box

I just felt like reaching out and saying thank you for My Liquid Fish technique. I have used it all day for the last (more than a month ) as I have gone through the most transformation I have in my whole life and it has been a vital tool . I definitely feel it was divine guidance which led me to learn this amazing technique from you. Along with many other things I learned in our many sessions . Also thank you for the audios that I am using - especially emergency events!! (from the Daily GPS) Anyway - much gratitude and love." - Kristi K. /Arizona

**Can't See The Full Email? Click Here to View Online**

Receive 24/7 Prayers from Jimmy

Your name will be added to a special VIP Prayer list where Jimmy will use his intelligent computer software, src4you which runs 24/7, to delete the negative and increase the strength of the positive creating a higher probability of favorable outcomes for you.

In addition, throughout the full 30-days, Jimmy will be dialing into your energetic signature each day upon rising and make certain that you are a clear yes, unclear to no and running forward before you start your day. He is doing the heavy lifting for you around 3am NY time while most of you are asleep in order to smooth out your way and increase your most favorable life outcomes.

Upon written email request, for each new order we offer a one-time email analysis via the intelligent healing software that Jimmy uses on your behalf. Most clients have had amazing results and outcomes!

You can add yourself and those living in your immediate household and yes you can include pets! Merely include everyone’s names and Jimmy will add them to his daily prayers.

You can run this monthly and stop at any time after the 30 days is up, you will have the opportunity to renew and update your list each month but are under no obligation. I believe you will experience magical transformations and make progress every day! SUBSCRIPTION AUTO-RENEWAL ($95/mo - save $5) Purchase a recurring subscription Update your prayers monthly. You can cancel or pause anytime.

Use PayPal for subscription Click here Use Stripe for subscription Click here.

30-Days of Prayer - $99

IMPORTANT REMINDER: After your purchase of any digital files in the shop or in a special offer, you MUST Download them to a desktop, tablet or phone AND save them to your own device. These files get moved, replaced and updated over time and will not be forever active on your original purchase link. So be certain to download all of Jimmy’s eBook or audio files instead of listening to them from the live links directly. For Apple device users... look into installing the free app that the Apple Store provides so that you can download and store your files directly without requesting the alternate links. It may be worth looking into on your end for future convenience. https://apps.apple.com/us/app/files/id1232058109

Below is list of the 30+ audios in the MyBeliefWorks series…. Find a topic that addresses your issue(s), click on the link to read more. We had a lot of help downloading & channeling these over the years & they keep getting better. Don’t forget… you can share these with your immediate friends and family.

MyBeliefWorks Audio Series Receiving Abundance Freedom from Abuse Overcoming Addiction Body Scan: Head to Toe Healing Experiencing Bountiful Harvest Igniting Creative Spark Discovering Your Destiny Daily GPS Reset Releasing Dark Energies/Fears Crossroads -Decision Making Diet & Exercise Support Education & Learning Support Empowering the Empath 20% OFF Healing Family Relationships Attracting a Financial Windfall Gold Coin: More Money in All Forms Joy of Money Healing Body Disorders

Lucky 777 Mental Stress 20% OFF Relieving Holiday Stress Increasing Intuition Easing IRS Stress & Taxes Finding Love & Romance Positive Money Mindset Moving Forward from Past Chronic Pain Relief Pet Healing Support Pro$perity Unlocked Improving Sales & Success Improving Sex Improving Sleep 20% OFF Traveling with Ease Work & Career Success Weight Loss Support Restoring Youth & Vitality

$19 Guided Energy Processes - MP3s

The 5 Anchors Process

The Purple Rain Process

The Magical Golden Key Process If you need a refresher on the basics of fishing...we've just revised the FREE MLF Training Kit with much NEW content. CLICK HERE.

Self-paced Online Courses Available Anchors Away Masterclass & Mastery/Practitioner Certification

MEMBERS LOGIN HERE

We recently launched our new ANCHORS AWAY MASTERCLASS and what has come through from Spirit is truly a game-changer in the way we can ALL now clear off evil, dark energies, aliens and anomalies in a deep, profound and lasting way.

I recorded a video to tell you more about how you can get access to my brand new Anchors Away Masterclass so you can learn how to protect and clear the 5 Anchors & more.

Watch the Video Now

MLF MASTERY LEVEL 1 is open to ANYONE at anytime!

The Certificate of Mastery Program includes 2 best-selling ebooks and 2 clearing audios plus written & video instructions, AND one-on-one time with Jimmy ALL for about the cost of a single 1-hr session! This online course is for anyone who is familiar with OR new to "fishing" and is ready to dive into the deep end & get results that are beyond the ordinary! It includes The Tackle Box & The Dowser's Handbook ebooks PLUS 2 MP3s "Clearing Dark Energies" & "Increasing Your Intuition" to help clear, strengthen and prepare your energy field for optimal “fishing” results. This is a work-at-your-own-pace curriculum that will TEACH & CLEAR you at the same time! In under 2wks you will be finished with the program and ready to fish on your own with greater results! Level II offers Practitioner Certification for those who qualify.

Learn About Certification Here

TGIFunny

Forward

Jimmy Mack | Appointments Skype: Jimmy.Mack55 Clearwater Florida USA Book a 15 minute session Book a 30 minute session Book a 60 minute session Search FAQ (Frequently Asked Questions) ??? Transformational Healing of Body, Mind? & Spirit, People, Places, Pets & Situations!? ? Access the NEW MLF Online Training Audio MP3 Downloads? and books? to improve your life! Get Certified in ?My Liquid Fish™Change Made Simple™ Watch Free Videos on YouTube Radio Show Archives Healing and Grounding Mats ...enter code: MyLiquidFishfs at checkout for Free shipping! Shop for ?Supplements ? http://www.jimmymackhealingshop.com www.jimmymackhealing.com Copyright ©1998-2022 All Rights Reserved

-------------------------------------------------- TGIW newsletter managed by: Sandy Bidinger Digital Marketing Specialist at SMBeConnected Solutions www.sandybidinger.com

Our mailing address is: Clearwater Florida 33756 USA

0 notes