#if i didn't like myself that much id genuinely want out of it (being alive) by now

[nickcassldy]

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[madfantasy]

New 3 things that happened:

*I got my new ID, my id expired and to renew it I had to get photographed, and since I just opened my bank account a year ago it depends on it so already I was giving up on the idea to keep the account but by miracle a photographer agreed to picture us at home, and it turned to us cuz I wanted all my sibs to have theirs taken with me too and because I had to argue first time to get my ID forever, so i didn't have the energy to keep doing it for the rest of my sibs so now it was the chance. The day of the photographer coming I was shaking with fear and I thought I would never leave the bathroom gotten ill. I fear seeing people more than dyin so I don't know how I held it together, I literally don't remember how it went or how I did, but I recall my sibs looking the same as I felt but it was finally done. parents too taken their shoots and because one needed their passport renewed to renew their id, them alone costing 1k$ and the appointment was set 6 months ahead, we R now close to it anyway, and the thought of how we have to pay to exist some more costly made me think of my worthlessness and helplessness even more, making me ashamed of still living.

The thing that blinded me, me the first to be tested on lo

*my eye is better, I still see a dark spot looking in a certain direction, getting an eye mask surprisingly helped keeping my eyes less dry cuz they be the most when I wake up and I had the driest time before it got infected and swelled, and already I'm used to the spot and can ignore it..

*I'm still drawing, literally it's making me live love and laugh, I don't care about improving or drawing my best constantly, ai can get poisoned for all I care as it continues to dehumanise the whole point of art-- keeping humanity alive ( btw use glazing ❤️🖤)

I realised that I don't have any physical collection of my art & since I can't look at the screens forever just to browse, nd printing all my stuff isn't feasible, then I came across those mini albums Nd I got the idea to just print one sheet = 9 pics! They look good too for trashy quality, I love it 8' and yes, purple and silver is the 10% obsession to my 90% red and black pallets, thanks to remembering Freeza c'x

But as usual posting my drawings never cease to eat me alive with anxiety, but I think I'm slowly becoming indifferent to it, even if the thought of that no one actually sees my art but me, which is the main case cuz I am living in isolation and being drawing in secret till few recent years because of my conservative surroundings, I feel much calmer when I'm not seen and maybe it's self destructive in a way cuz to stay posting I need to be commissioned cuz net bill, but it became irrelevant cuz I accepted that i can't have the mental capacity to be a social media person or chase anything that I already knew I can't maintain, I had an art block for a year I almost believed that was it for my art drive and me cuz it my sanity— cuz burning out so bad. If my post has a description it was in my drafts for months cuz I plan for every piece I share, but if can't form words I allow myself to let it be captionless, I draw faster than I form words and that's why art is important to me on a personal level, it's my first way of express even if its indirect, the only bit of human Mani left to live in me to put through lines and paint splodges. Even if no one sees it, and to be honest with myself, have very weak chances of being seen on a level that benefits me financially, I'm on the other side of the world, never seen the sky beyond my schooling days, nonverbal irl and know that I can get taken advantage of easily in social manner because it either I don't get the social cues or can't say no..

I'm grateful that at least I got the chance to experience being in a loving nurturing fandom like Sev's that made me experience genuine human goodness and care I never thought possible, made me have some self worth, personality beyond a made for marriage caretaker, and allowed me to get art tools and clothing that I was never allowed or could afford, and many first time small life pleasures like perfumes, food and toys, even if I only recognise 5 or 10 of you dears now, by DP liking my posts- (I suck at remembering names sorry)

I'm also grateful to have a room after endless years of couch and house movings, I have a safe space to still be able to draw and be cool under an AC in this 50° weather..

I think realistically that's the best it can get having spent all my life trying to get anywhere but isolated, and nothing working. At least I'm indifferent and fine of being the caretaker of my disabled guardians and siblings, I need them as much as they need me, even if it caused me the same cycle of mental anguish and earth leavings hehe

Wish U all the ease and peace and yummy peas 🫶🏽

4 am, sleep deprived

[sleepii-moth]

ok ok last outer wilds spoilers post for today because i have to go to bed lmao

so first things first: HOLY SHIT WHAT THE FUCK OH MY GOD I CANT BELIEVE I ACTUALLY GOT TO TALK TO A NOMAI OKAY WHAT THE FUCK HOLY SHIT

when i said i was screaming i mean i was genuinely screaming when that happened- not very loud but still

i wish someone was there to see my reaction because i was so floored i had to keep pausing the game in the middle of reading dialog just so i could take a second to go "oh my god holy shit oh my god" i was just fuckin grinning from ear to ear and SO happy within the first like 10 seconds of the encounter started calling the nomai my friend and getting so giddy at the little remarks like "im rather fond of your 4 eyes" and shit like i was being complimented

the moment when i first saw them i had like a weird mixture of happiness and amazement but was also kind of unsettled at first because while i was super exited and stuff, for so long throughout the whole game whenever you see a nomai space suit theres usually a corpse in there so my brain was like half registering the like very much alive looking nomai in front of me as a moving corpse and i guess i wasnt so wrong about that one..

i have a feeling some weird shits going on and they're definitely supposed to be dead and part of me wants there to be a way for them to live but also i dont know if they'd really want to considering yknow.. their whole clan is dead

second thing: motherfucker really just pulled some psychonauts 2 type shit on me i was so sure as soon as i got to the quantum moon the game would be like over pretty much but nope! i just kinda unlocked a new area.. still have no idea what the ash twin project is or if its even possible to get to the eye from the quantum moon seeing as i tried to multiple times and it didn't work

third thing: im so happy i got to tell someone i talked to a nomai i was like hoping and praying and hoping like please please please let there be dialog for this pleaseeee and there was! and it was really good dkdbd

despite the game being more known for the super good mystery stuff i still love the characters i think they're fucking great throughout the game ive been thinking about how much i hope theres more dialog in the dlc (disclaimer: i know nothing about the dlc) or just in some sort of post game id love to see if any characters have reactions to certain things like me being in a loop

and i loved going up to riebeck and being like "I TALKED TO A LIVING NOMAI" and both of us just losing our shit

i know i kinda said this the other day but this game does such a good job just.. making you the main character i dunno if its just because i have sort of the same reactions to things the player character does but it really just adds so much to the game like if my character reacted to things with tons of dialog and their own opinions it wouldnt feel as good in a way? i guess what i mean is that i can very easily see myself as the main character and the main character as me and i like that alot

anyway i totally expected to finish the game today but i still have so much to do and its almost 1am so i better get out of vr and rest dkshdj

[lost-little-fawn]

i am not a honey throated nymph with teeth like budding flowers- 

theres no power behind the words i release from my thankless mouth.

theres no witchery in the way i cook, no belief imbued in my thoughts, 

no sigils of safety squirreled away in my actions. no magic upon my skin. 

no gods have ever once protected me from the foul and the evil- those, 

these (men) among us planting their seed in those who havent opened their garden. 

because when i was a kid, sometimes i cried so hard and for so long

that i was certain id drown. i would muffle my face into my favorite stuffed animal

and sob. sob for the broken and needy and hurting parts of me that didn't 

and would never experience peace. my lungs would become so full, 

so occupied with my own pain and suffering that i wouldnt be able to breathe.

salt tracks would crest like tsunami waves on my cheeks. my pillow would 

feel waterlogged and heavy, wet and lingering. i was a ship out to sea

trying to navigate the storm- panting, whimpering, gasping like a landlocked fish

-and even then, even unable to speak, begging for air, even dizzy, 

my parents viewed this as obstinacy. demanded responses to their own soapboxes. 

my abuser viewed my absolute terror, hysteria, genuine fear of death

that any therapist would have explained to me as a panic attack, 

as rebellion. and so, for so many years, i thought i was just overreacting. 

i thought my emotions were too much, even when my reactions were dulled and 

chipped down, fragile and flighty, either too much or too little. 

thats how i know theres no god. i had to evolve. i had to become a different person. 

no powerful being would let that happen to a child for so long that she changed 

so much of herself just to stay alive. hands tangled in her hair, fingers

in her mouth, pain like fireworks wherever hands had touched. unheard 

and unloved, and devalued, invalidated, for so many more years yet, baby. 

my inner child is a wounded and feral animal. she doesnt know the words to explain 

her pain. doesnt know or understand love. wishes mommy would be nicer. 

mixes up happy and sad on the chart the therapist puts in front of her. 

can never show her on the doll where he touches her because its not her he touches

she goes far away, never trusts her body or her memories. 

it mustve happened to someone else, because she sees it 

in 3rd person like a disney movie. she doesnt know why she can never stop crying. 

never a family, never a daughter, always a burden, a stuffed toy, a pet. 

nobody wanted me to grow, not even myself. i wanted to stay a child forever. 

and i guess maybe my inability to believe may have caused my peril. maybe

our god is vengeful to those who forsake him. it wouldn't have been fair, anyway, 

to ask him to help me out of the stupid situations i put myself in. 

[misterbitches]

i wish more than anything he could have had this. i love you man

i really fucking do

my love for nirvana and immense respect for kurt isn't something i ever expected. after being a huge fan of jonghyun too as a musician, a person who had things to say, a human being. the people around him. i fucking hate that kurt is gone and i was like...2. i got into hole when i was like 25 really heavily and refused to listen to nirvana. didnt' care about these white boys. but there's a reason why people love this band and why they loved kurt. i get mad sometimes at his death—selfishness—and then i make jokes to deal and cope. we all do with everything. it's just that and this is from a cis person...but i know so many trans people or people on the gender spectrum who have read his journals see him as someone struggling with gender. and after years of thinking and becoming such a huge fan i think that was honestly the truth. i think at this point we're all pretty sure he was gender queer or struggling with identity.

his aversion for oppression, his stand with the marginalized, not accepting racism, homophobia, transphobia BECAUSE THAT IS THE HEART OF DIY (spurred by my black people cos ofc it is and we do everything) and i wish that he could have beeen better.

to me it seems like his pain with his crohns (or wahtever he had) lead to his intense struggle with drugs because that's pretty common when needing pain management. on top of that, his family's history of MI. on top of that, his life being hounded and not being prepared for it (this i think is the idea of white privilege at work and wasn't naive of him necessarily, but...it's just something he thought wouldnt happen to him. that's whiteness at work as who they were as a diy fucking anti pop anti capital punk band. sonic youth said 'we didnt sell out, we made them buy in') and his rship with courtney. he said without court he might be gay or bi.

i won't read his journals, it's too fucking much for me and i dont feel allowed or maybe i will when i can handle it, but i know reading about them and him and hearing the way he changed his songs and his abhorrence for bravado, for men that talk about women as disposable and sex objects, for not being able to enjoy a punk band, for the whiteness and maleness. krist novoselic was a 6'7 fucking bassist and dave grohl is a sizeable dude with hideous tattoos. back then, no one said a fucking bad thing about them. come as you are.

we know that suicide is a state we get into. when you go to a psych ward you see that it's actually calm and an ebb/flow. it is extremely fucking boring. the thing is we don't know if these feelings last forever. we can't go back and time and history cannot change. it was his decision, like jonghyun's, to end his life. but i know there could have been longer. if they got help. i try not to resent courtney especially not now with people being irresponsible and unearthing the FBI report on him. he killed himself but it was definitely emotionally sparred by her and she should have told people what happened weeks before his death.

but no one failed him per se. his suicide note is full of hope and it kills me to see. he should have been able to be whoever he wanted. been a son, been a daughter, been anything.

whenever i hear the changed lyrics or see him in a dress or hear distress i dont know. i wish we didnt lose him but i also know that no one wants to go back to that time. it wasn't necessarily great but it wasn't all bad. and i wish commodity didn't destroy legacy. i wish we werent's so obsessed with the death and gore instead of the liveliness and hilarity of this band and of kurt. and i wish we could talk about him more and the idea that maybe there's so much going on with it; i have many critiques for things they have done, things kurt has done as well.

i'm talking in circles but i genuinely just get bummed. every day he is still dead. but this dude man......i love him a lot. i'm so glad nirvana gave what they did to the world. getting to know kurt so long after the fact is fucking hard sometimes. it is frustrating. but focusing on the positives too or trying to understand another perspective has given me a lot of insight. and i always try and remember that it wasn't just one thing, that nirvana were a band, it wasn't just him, and he could have been better but it just didn't work out that way. it's not solely about his internal pain and the narrative of a tortured artist is suffocating.

he wanted to be a star, make this insane pop song, and when he got it he didnt realize it became everything he hated. he was already struggling and all this shit hit a point. i have mad respect for them still. dave grohl said billie eilish is the kurt of her gen (about 2 yrs ago) and that drives me up a wall for various reasons. antiblackness and class. fuck that. these dudes were poor as fuck trucking it through washington with other bands and the basis is blacness and black art they were trying to fight and make it and give a shit man. it didnt turn out the way they could handle but they were not PRIMIING themselvs for musical stardom. no artist who cares would do that. but if you get the recognition you want because who doesn't, it comes at a price too.

this is why i critique commodity and capital so intensely. i participate, and i will have to as an artist. i don't have a desire to be poor because i've lived a life that gave me space to see what i want to do. i have class privilege (and a lot of debt) and i am grateful. but it isnt like i dont want peopl eto know. it's just that i know that i can't give in and accept and demand nothing and then decide to hoard it to myself. taht money that goes in funnels out and is not for me to keep. there is no trickling down. dont paly yrself.

artists like kurt and in a sense like MF Doom (rapper who only came out to be seen when he wanted to) or DMX even it's like....man u came out fucking fighting to be heard you know. do your thing. make your shit. be amazing. esp black people. DMX had a fucking face for a camera. hopefully i'm gonna watch belly at my best friend's house on the 28th.

i wish everyone who deserves to stay can stay until their body releases them in the most pleasant way as possible. jessica walter's death made me sad, but she was older and i'm so happy she got to live. same with cicely tyson. at the same time, the young deaths over drugs, suicide, accidents....id on't really get it. why is kissinger alive but these people can't stay? how did this come a somber tale of death instead of just i fucking love kurt cobain lmao

he's def one of those ppl that im like u rock. him, robeson, seberg to an extent. hm who else. wong kar wai, jenkins, joe (thai filmmaker whose name i cant spell.) all those people who are running forward on their own and beating their chest. yea i like that. an award is just another award. what matters is possibility and action.

RATHER BE DEAD THAN COOL

[bitch-banshee]

It’s All About Family part ll

Summary: Nova is a successful business woman with a secret. When her family is put in danger she’s called home to Italy to resume her place as the Mafia Boss. She brings along her assistant Lydia, to keep in touch with her work while she’s away. Lydia is an assistant, nothing but ordinary about her...unless there isn’t.

Part l

Word count: 1395

Warnings ⚠️: NONE...I don’t think.

A/N: it’s a little shorter, and a bit of a filler, nothing drastic happens

ENJOY!!

LYDIA'S POV

I had to be dreaming. There’s no way this is real. My boss has a secret son, who’s father is dead, and he was taken by the cartel for whatever reason.

The maid I found out is named Freda. She brought me to a room. It was beautiful, a queen sized bed, a huge bay window, a bookcase, a desk, a closet, and a bathroom.

Beautifully decorated in purple and white. I sat on the bed and thought about the terrible day I was having, breaking up with my cheating boyfriend, him kicking me out, being late to work, but now here I am, in Italy, with my boss.

This is insane.

I started to think of Andrew, and catching him this morning on my way back from my sisters. How in a bed just like this he was tangled with a less than average looking woman who was moaning beneath him.

He didn't even stop when he saw me.

When he did finish he turned to me a sinister look in his eye.

“C’mon Lyds, you knew that it would never work, you're too clean cut for me. I need a woman like Sara here, able to keep up with my drive. I know that this is short notice but I need all your shit out of my apartment by the end of the day” then he pushed passed me into the kitchen.

God, i was so stupid to not see that something like this was coming. I thought he loved me, that I could change him.

How wrong i was.

I remembered the hollow feeling of shoving my clothes in bags id taken from the kitchen. Sara watched from the bed. A smug look on her face.

Until I turned to her, with a flat look “he will get bored of you too, i suggest not selling your apartment and moving in. The next sara will come along, and you'll be just like me.” before I decided I didn't want much else other than my clothes and the tv id bought for us.

I was angry, seethingly angry in that moment but i was also late for work and didn't have time to deal with this. When i left i made it to my car with 3 full bags of clothes and shoes and a tv that I carried down with me.

Before I'd decided to get out of the car I broke into sobs. Not for the loss of my relationship, but the inherent loss of myself. I hadn't known who I was in a long time, blinded by how much i thought i loved that asshole.

I was so stupid, but i pulled my shit together. Jackson was really nice to me when I came in, helping me clean up before nova came in to start her day. And now I was here, with her. I shot a quick text to him to tell him I was alive and taking a day off.

He said he understood and hoped I felt better soon and that he'd see me when I came back to work.

There was a soft knock on the door, that put me back into the beautiful room. Bursting my bubble full of self-pity and sorrow.

“Come in” my voice betrayed me in sounding quite scared and unbelievably sad.

Then a beautiful woman walked through the door, long auburn hair, soft curves to die for, and the most striking hazel eyes. She looked like a dream.

“Hello, I’m mia, I brought a couple things for you” she smiled softly, and held out an outfit to me.

I was still rendered speechless, her expectant look snapped me out of my trance “thank you” I blurted out.

She nodded demurely, this woman was a picture of elegance and femininity.

I got up to change, “could you get the zip?”

“Sure” I felt her small soft hands slide slowly down my back as she undid my dress.

This was the most sensual I’d ever felt. She slid her hands over my shoulders, pushing the dress to pool at my feet.

Since I was already in my underwear, I guess there’s no need to be self conscious. I pulled the jeans up and around my hips, they weren’t too tight, but they did mold around the small curves I did have. And the shirt was grey, and it was the softest material I’ve ever felt.

“So how do you know nova?” She asked me, her eyes glued to mine.

“Who?” I don’t think I know a nova....oh my god, I’m an idiot, of course she meant ms.star, Santarillo whoever.

“Oh, im her assistant back in New York, at star industries” i tugged at the hem of the scoop neck shirt, all too aware of Mia’s eyes sliding over my body.

She nodded and slid onto the bed “the boss is like a sister to me, keeps me out of trouble” her small hand wrapped around my arm and tugged me to fall back into the plush mattress. “And how I could get in trouble, especially with you, gattino” she smiled brightly.

We stayed there, she asked me soft spoken questions and id answer. In turn she answered what little questions i had. I found out that she had a brother and he was “around here somewhere, but he's a slippery bastard” i laughed at that.

Mia kept her eyes and hands on me, her touch soft and sure. “Come gattino, i'm sure to cause some trouble if we’re alone much longer. Let's go see what nova is up to, yes?” her long hair swished behind her, along with her hips that swayed aggressively.

We passed many corridors, and doors. I tried to map out in my head the way back in case I got lost, but it seemed nearly impossible to count how many rights and lefts we took until we were back in what could only be the main hall.

It was bustling with people, men walking around in suits and pretty girls swapping rooms, or clad like mia in all black looking dangerous and lethal. “I'll never find my way back up to my room” I laughed pulling mias concentrated attention back to me.

A smile pulled at the edge of her mouth and her hazel eyes sparkled. Jesus, she was really beautiful and it kind of hurt to look at the bright smile on her face.

“Please, gattino, I'll make sure you get back in one piece” she winked and pulled my close to her. Our faces centimeters apart. It felt like all the air had been sucked from my lungs.

It brought a vicious blush to my face as I genuinely thought of kissing her. I’d never had a thought like that, mia was dangerous. I was willing to abandon everything id ever known for her in that moment.

To keep her looking at me like that, only then did I realize that in my sexual awakening did she pull us right into novas office. I was smacked in the face with another realization. Nova looked most powerful just like this, id never seen her in black. Most times when she passed my desk she was in white, pale yellows, creams, light airy colors.

She always looked impeccable, but this, the dark aura around her brought me to my knees. I looked between them both and noticed i hadnt heard anything they were saying, until Nova offered me a seat and mia nipped at me.

I smiled widely, listening to them talk in a foreign language. Just as id gotten comfortable in the seat an equally beautiful man came through the door and I swear my heart jumped out of my chest. His voice was deep and gravely, it spoke to the innermost female parts of my soul.

His strong shoulders and sharp jaw made my mouth water, then he looked at me. The color of his eyes somewhere between blue and green, and I was brought to sit up a little straighter, peering at him through my lashes.

The longer I looked the more awestruck I became by the similarities between him and Mia. in the end I looked away from him slowly, unwilling to be subject to such a stern and captivating look. My heart betrayed me in flipping. I was in trouble..

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Tag list : @teenwolfechoes @terminallygenius @just-jordie-things @just-jordies-faves @youngmoneymilla

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Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think 💖💖

REQUESTS ARE OPEN.

[queerlymygrimoire]

Prompts from "tarot for troubled times" shadow work book

Part one: the fool

Where do you feel stuck, blocked, or in pain?

I have a lot of difficulty expressing myself in healthy ways in romantic settings, due to trauma and bpd. I feel stuck within my own head a lot of times, due to this. I feel blocked by my own inability to overcome my mental health- my paranoia and fear control me, and this causes me pain

Where do you feel blessed, whole, and in the flow?

With my fiance. Theyre an amazing person, and they've helped me through so much. I want to follow this flow wherever it goes.

If you could change any of this, what would that be?

Honestly? Id make some movement on my mental health- or a situation with my fiance that hasclearer boundaries and rules for me to follow.

What would that look like?

I guess it would look like having a lot of tough conversations with myself and my fiance, if I want any progress there

When have you felt afraid to speak up?

I have a friend who is very controlling, and gets very distressed if I call them out ever- so I don't for fear of their reaction

How do you hold yourself back?

In a good way, I hold myself back by talking myself down logically from rushing in with my temper. In a bad way, I talk myself down from everything, all the time, so I never end up making much progress.

In what ways do you lift other people up?

I always take effort to listen to other people and boost their voices by sharing their posts on my social media. I also take a lot of effort to take note of their specific traits, interests etc to comment or compliment them on.

When have you contributed to oppression, either knowingly or unknowingly?

I honestly have done a lot of appropriative things in the past, and I've also held some TERFy views as a young teen (im 23 now and no longer hold said views). I also have held anti-religion views which contribute to harm towards muslim and Jewish folk.

When have you felt oppressed, what did that feel like?

I have spent many years feeling excluded due to my autism- but for a while I thought I was trans, and the hatred I received online was genuinely sickening. It made me feel guilty for even being alive. The label didn't end up being right for me- but the way i felt was hell and I have nothing but respect for those who go through that now.

What does the word power mean to you?

Power represents oppressive regimes and controlling others, enforcing your views over others, and generally being in a position of no reproach, much different to empowerment which is a good thing, being powerful in the literal sense is rarely a force for good.

When you think of inclusivity, what does that look like in your life? How might you create a more inclusive, welcoming world for people of colour or other marginalised folks?

Inclusivity in my life means making sure my craft is non appropriative as much as possible, and making sure any spaces i operate are considerate of all minorities- a big thing im working on is making my spaces more accessible for disabled people such as dyslexic folk etc, and also working on honouring AAVE and respecting its origins, and tackling any racist biases and ideals i might subconsciously hold.