#im not saying this to seek pity or comfort either. im just talking about how i feel. because it just sucks. it just sucks

[thedevotionaltour]

anyone else ever remember how they are gonna end up in some dead end soul sucking job instead of the actual career they wanna pursue because they are far too unskilled for it. just me. awesome.

[archivevolcania]

could you clarify what you mean by "weaponizes labels?" i genuinely have no idea what you mean by that.

i’ll try my very best to explain it in a simple way, though i can be terrible in how i word things, so if you still have questions after this feel free to send another ask or just shoot me a message kjhgdfg i’ll Try my Hardest i promise.

going straight to the point, it’s when people quite literally ‘use’ their mental disorders, orientation, gender, identity, etc etc... as a weapon and shield to either make themselves the victim in one scenario or justify their shitty behavior. of course, there ARE cases where they are indeed, the actual victim, don’t get me wrong. it’s when their intention is literally just to get that attention and validation and pity? it’s just ridiculous and extremely toxic as well as damaging to their own self. because at the end of the day, it means they’ll be used to that attention and validation to feel better about themselves and it can escalate really quickly and lead to bad places, both for the person in question as well as those around them.

EDIT:  this doesn’t mean im against people bringing up their disabilities. there’s a difference between bringing it up for the other person to be considerate when interacting with you should it be something you find necessary (all in favor for this)   vs   shoving it down their throat for you to get away with just about any toxic and manipulative behavior you want to justify or make the other believe every single hurtful and controlling thing you do / say is ‘because you are just That Way’.

i honestly just don’t want to interact with those types of people because i know that stupid tunglr drama is so not worth it, that there’s people here who no matter what you say, how you word things or try to approach them? they’ll play the victim and rely on a label (for example, idk being autistic) to justify that need to be reassured by others, while tagging the other person as guilty.

and again, I KNOW there’s cases where the person was in fact, horribly bullied and manipulated even. i’m not denying that, i have seen cases and you could say i was p much one of those genuine victims lmao, the difference here is that some people learned to find an easy way out by bringing up that stuff.

a quick example. you’re talking with this someone and apparently, the way you worded something while typing offended them and made them feel bad. so you try rephrasing it because obviously, that was not your intention because you’re not an asshole, but at that point that person swears you hate them, are against them, and... you’re homophobic. just because that person happened to be gay and they will Use That to tag you negatively, and that way people will immediately think badly of you, all while they get away with it. meanwhile, all you wanted to do was explain something better and yet you weren’t given the opportunity.

it’s extremely immature, toxic, and damaging to both parties. 

so yep. i avoid that kind of shit. i’m too tired to treat someone as special or feel like i have to walk avoiding eggshells because they mention left and right that they are something (when they clearly and violently only seek that validation and don’t do it for good reasons). 

i am here for equality and respect. don't expect me to put someone on a pedestal just because they’re different, but i will be respectful and educated cus it so happens that’s basic human decency. 

i keep my blogs drama-free. the rule on my blog along with this post is literally the only thing you’ll see about it, as i stay away from any and all personal drama.

and if by any reason this rule of mine makes you uncomfortable, i encourage you not to follow me. if we’re already mutuals, please soft or hard block me. if you also follow my sideblogs, please unfollow those as well. i’ll hold nothing against you, i just want us both to feel comfortable in our blogs and if that means blocking (whether hard-block or soft) then that is totally fine. we can move on and act like grown ups.

:’)  i hope that made sense ilu bye 

[chaoartwork]

Multivoid: Chapter 1

A fanfiction revolving around 2K, Palindrome and the alternate Zims in the aftermath of the Battlevoid arc.

Based on Invader Zim comic issues 46-49.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Hey. Um. Brother?”

“Sure! What is it, brother?”

“Uh...do you...um. Do you ever worry?”

“Worry about what?”

“Well heheh! Ofcourse it’s a dumb question. But um. Do you ever worry that maybe this won’t last forever?”

“Whaaat?! Come on! Ofcourse it will last forever! We can make it last as long as you want it to!”

“But wouldn’t you want to too?”

“....Hm. You know, that’s a good question. I always pondered about that. Im guessing you might wonder about that too.”

“Wonder about what?”

“Wonder which one you really are. Which one is the real you....Hey! I got a question for you brother! Let’s say we use to be someone. But an event occurred that made you become someone else. Someone grants you the second chance to be that person again. Will you take it?”

“Hmmmm. Not entirely sure. It really depends if my original self was better than what I am now:”

“Better in what way?”

“I don’t know. Superior? More flawless? I think.”

“You seem unsure, brother.”

“Eh I don’t know. Who knows? Maybe that original me was worse than what I am now?”

“In what way?”

“Mmm not sure. Maybe evil? Careless? Dumb? Pitiful?”

“Do you really think that’s what you were?”

“I guess so. You?”

“Mm. I’m not sure either.”

“I see....”

“....I know! Let’s play! Just like old times!”

“Like old times?”

“Yeah! Like hide-and seek! I hide and you have to look for me!”

“You expect me to look for you in an area this big?”

“Uh-Huh! But it will be different! You need to find someone to convince them to come find me!”

“I don’t think that’s how the game works. Shouldn’t I be the only one to find you.”

“Yeah but it’ll get boring. Besides! It’s nice to get to know someone! Even if there’s a chance they can be sketchy!”

“Brother, I’m not sure if that’s a safe idea.”

“Aw come on, trust me! I know you can do it!”

“Hm. Fine. How do I start?”

“Well...first, you have to wake up!”

———————————————————-

Palindrome gasped a breath of water, his body violently shuddering for a few seconds as if it was springing back to life. Within a second after it happened, the heavy sensation rushed across his body. It felt as though he was about to dissipate again, but felt like his body was holding back from coming apart again. He felt his weak arms wrap around 2K as much as he could to which he timed on when he was going to catch him, making sure never to let him go.

He did not know how long he kept his eyes closed for or whether or not he really did knocked out, but few flashes of traumatic images from the battle swept through his mind for a split seconds, despite it feeling like forever and wanting to cry out on making it stop. He suddenly felt a soft nudge soon after. It felt warm and soft, interrupting the pain enough to relieve himself. Even if it was just a moment. The one who was nudging him felt small and round, having a bit of puffiness to them. He gulped down, hoping to have the strength to speak with his heart fluttering in hope on who it might be. He weakly flicked open his eyes again.

“T....2K....?”

 The blurry vision showed him what seemed like a pale blue figure instead of a light green as he had hoped. The vision slightly cleared up until he realized that the small being was softly hovering above him. The fish looking being had derpy eyes and squared buck tooth. What was that thing? Minimoose? No. That’s not his name. Why did he think that was his name? His name....is....

His breath stiffened from finally recognizing him.

“Mini....Miniwhale...? Is it really...?” He shakily reaches out, “Miniwhale...?”

“Nya,” the figure squeaked in a concerned tone and moved close in order to let him be able to rest his creator’s palm on the side of his body. Palindrome processed to make sure he really wasn’t hallucinating. No, he couldn’t be here. He just can’t. How could he have entered the Zimvoid? There’s just no absolute-

“”Nya?”

The fish Irken blinked.

“Wh...what are you...? What do you mean ‘where have I gone’? Why are you h-?”

He grunt from the unfeeling sensation rushing through his body returning, causing him to squeeze eyes shut and hug himself again.

“Nya?”

He found it impossible to respond to his subject this time, focusing more on fighting it back.

It took several seconds for it to ebb away, letting his body fully relax in exhaustion and breathe heavily.

“Nya!”

Yes I’m fully aware my bowl is very dirty thanks for reminding me at this time.

But he did not say that and instead respond weakly,

“Miniwhale. If it’s really you...please,” his eyes opened and trace back to him, “...help me.”

“Nya?”

He couldn’t tell him exactly what he needs help with. His body felt so useless that even speaking would easily tire him out. He can’t even look around the area because of how blurry his sight really was. There was really no telling when the horrible feelings were going to end. He felt like he could throw up at any moment.

“Nya...”

His heart melted by what the robot responded. He soon after started feeling him float down and nestle against his body. It made the unfeeling sensation grow numb again. He took a moment to process and choked up a bit, realizing how long it has been since he has encountered anyone close to him from his timeline. He gave out the strength to move his arm so he can rest it around him.

“Y-yeah....I missed you too.”

Miniwhale responded by nestling against his body more until he felt cozy against his creator. Palindrome wondered if he was doing this because he was trying to comfort him during the ill feeling or if it’s because he was embracing him after not seeing him for all those few months. It could maybe be both. Nonetheless, he felt his body start to shut down on him again. He wanted to beg his body so much on moving again. There was so much that he needed to know. What happened to the other Zims? What happened to the Elder? The Meat? Where’s that Zib? Where’s that alternate Dib?

2K....2K, are you still here? Did you come back too just like me? Why didn’t Miniwhale mention you or the others? Am I the only one who came back from....?

His eyes grew heavy until they closed shut to give into the unconsciousness.

...Where are you?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Zim can be seen laying face plant on a messy table sleeping, his drools having covered half of it. He can be heard softly snoring.

“Sir. Sir.”

There was a moment of no response.

“Hellooooo. Sirrrrr.”

“Huh! Wah!” Zim  jumps awake with pieces of styrofoams stuck on his face and quickly glanced around his lab in wonder.

“Sir. School will be starting soon.”

“Wait.” Zim processed and looked up at the ceiling, “you mean now?”

“Yyyyup.”

“WHAT?!” He exclaimed, “why didn’t you wake me up earlier?!”

The computer sighed,

“Sir, I tried to wake you up for two hours-”

“Urgh! Forget about it,” he rubbed the pieces of styrofoams off his face, “I’ll do this later. Just don’t touch any of them!”

“I am aware of that, sir. You tell me this everyday.”

“Well it’s always good to be reminded,” he hopped off his seat. “Computer! Initiate my brilliant disguise!”

The tube shot down to cover Zim’s body. It then pulled back up to show him in his human disguise. He then walks over to the elevator and goes up to the living room, to which he can see Gir watching his TV as usual.

“Your in charge of the house, Gir. Make sure Minimoose doesn’t eat them again.”

“Okie dokie!” Gir said without even looking at him and changed the channel.

There was a likely chance he didn’t even listen, but not like Zim couldn’t do anything about it. He just continued on and left his home base, walking out to the usual casual days. Basically how it was everything day. Somewhat cloudy skies, some bird flying by with some of them often time hitting a house and getting knocked unconscious. The neighbor next door always screaming in order for their husband to clearly hear them. Boy does he love this planet. But it won’t be any better until he conquers it.

 He walked passed the neighborhood and through the streets until it took him maybe half an hour to get to school, many kids having already gone inside. He walked inside the school, went passed the halls, ignoring some weird kid who was in the locker calling out nonchalantly to let him out, and was able to go inside the classroom just as soon as the school bell rang. Dib can be seen apparently not glaring at him as usual, instead scribbling on a journal.

Zim squinted, wondering what he was up to this time.

“Zim.”

The Irken flinched and turned to see Ms.Bitters behind him.

“Take your seat. Class is about to start.”

“Uh, right! Yes, Ms. Bitters!”

He went and did as she told him. Again, the school seat feeling uncomfortable as always.

“Alright, class. Today, we’re going to-“

She turned to notice Dib scribbling.

“Dib. I really do hope your not trying to write out your plans on how to get to Zim’s ‘secret alien lair’.”

The class giggles by her comment.

“Uh, no Ms. Bitter. It’s actually something different.”

“Oh? Then you might as well either stop scribbling whatever creative fantasy you always have in that big head of yours or would you like to spend more of these dragging moments of class time telling us what it is your scribbling about.”

“It’s just...have anyone noticed the stars looked off today?”

“Stars?” One kid asked in confusion.

“Yeah! For example, last night I was checking my telescope to see if Zim’s kind arrived as usual and the stars looked very different. Like...very different. There seems to be a lot more in the sky and not to mention that most of them look to be bigger than the others. Has anyone noticed that?”

“Dib, none of us aren’t into those stargazing gizmos like you do.”

“Ofcourse there is, ask Zim! He always checks to see what his kinds are up to.”

 “Hey now,” Zim narrowed, “don’t get me into this conversation!”

“Maybe there might be meteor showers tonight?” One kid suddenly guessed.

“Oh I hope so!” One girl said, “I wish for a talking pony!”

“I wish for a kitten!” Another kid said.

“I wish to be singer!”

“I wish for a world’s finest pizza!”

“I wish to be a rock-“

“Well apparently wishing on a star is part of something out of a fairy tale,” the teacher interrupted. “In life, you won’t get anything unless you decide to work hard in getting it. Now that we’re back to reality, can I now continue this section?”

The class stayed quiet.

“Good. Now then, today we’ll be talking about the Schrodinger’s Cat theory. Can anyone guess as to what it is?”

—————————————————

The school bell rings. Kids screams in happiness as they run out of school and jump out of windows as usual. Zim walks out of the door mumbling.

“What kind of dumb question is that? Of course the cat is dead! Or alive. How can a cat be both dead and alive? that’s the stupidest thing I ever heard. Dumb humans with their dumb logical sense-“

“You have something to do with it, don’t you?”

“Huh?” He turned behind him and saw Dib come out of the entrance and walk down the stair to approach him with a look of suspicions. Oh here it goes again.

“You’re plotting something, do you? Why are the night skies different tonight? Is it part of your next scheme?”

“Gee I don’t know Dib human,” Zim in annoyance, “why don’t you next time use that weak telescope of yours to see what these new stars actually are?”

“Because dad called me to go to bed before I could analyze it more. So tell me, Zim! What are they?”

“Ok first off, if they were really part of my next glorious plan, I would not tell you what they are. Second, I have not analyzed the galaxies in a while.”

“Don’t you check the galaxy every night? Like, to check what the invaders are up to and all of that?”

“WHAT?!” He exclaimed, “HOW DO YOU KNOW?!”

 “You one time complained about them doing something that was bugging you.”

“LIES! ZIM WOULD NEVER TALK ABOUT OTHER LESS SKILLED INVADERS!”

“Whatever, man. I guess I tend to forget that you’re not too active with your ambitions as usual.”

“That is also lies! Zim has become more ambitious with his great conquest to conquer your planet more than ever!”

“You mean by studying those things.”

“What things?”

“The packing pea-“

“I knew what you were talking about.”

Dib sighed and facepalmed.

“You spent the whole night studying them again?”

“They’re very important! I must know what their purpose really is!”

“Zim, you told me this for like what? The thirtieth time? And besides, what makes them so important? They’re just packing peanuts.”

YOU ARE WRONG STINK BOY! Those packing peanuts had much more potential than you should EVER know! Especially that one time!”

“One time?” Dib’s eyebrow raised.

“Yeah!” Zim smiled, “that one time when I-“

There were few seconds  of silence. Zim stopped smiling and processed.

“Ok, maybe they haven’t done anything yet, but I’m SURE they have a purpose. I just need to remember what it was!”

 “And how long exactly will that take?” Dib crosses his arms in annoyance, “you’ve been going on about it for a year now. Mostly because of that little ‘incident’. And it’s because of that incident that not only do you focus on them, you have been obsessed about them more and more.”

“And THATS because I am getting closer and closer to uncovering it’s purpose. Watch me, stink human...watch me! When I uncover the power of those styrofoams, you can no longer stop me! I will be able to conquer my planets with my BARE hands! Or feet, any of those can work.”

  Zim lets out a laughter before running off to the street. Midway, his maniacal laughter turns to a yelp of shock as a car can be heard honking in the distance and then crashing sounds are heard, with one woman screaming,

“Hey watch where you’re going, stupid kid!”

Dib stares off at the scene and sigh in annoyance.

“Of all supernatural I could be chasing, why does my main focus have to be him?”

[iliketodiesometimes]

Skyway (2)

jaebum fanfic

skyway intro / one / two / three

pairing: jaebum x reader genre: supernatural, romance plot: Jaebum is roaming the earth trapped between two worlds, in a town in the middle of nowhere. Jaebum continues his bounded life, with no one being able to see him, or at least he thinks so until a girl confronts him. a/n: this is not edited, or completed. I wrote this a few years ago

Here's the thing about life, or my life, or what's left of it anyway; it is unpredictable and ever-changing.

Its simple and everybody knows it, but nobody really seems to grasp it. Everybody is chasing after a better future, letting go of the now, when it should really be the opposite. Leave the chase of the future, for a better now, so when the future comes it can be celebrated too.

Because they'll always come a future, and if there's not, at least the life lived so far was good.

One can imagine my words being so idealistic that they become unrealistic, but they're not.

I'm being honest.

I'm being as honest as the sunlight that gently hitting skin. I'm being honest as the tingling burns on fingertips when dipped in melting candle wax. I'm being honest as a person who no longer has a future can be.

All I have is the past, and all I regret is letting go of the present.

I try not to get too sad, about it though. It's not like I no longer exist. I do, but not in the most natural way.

I'm trapped in the human world, waiting for the white light to shine down on me and sweep me to heaven or hell. At this point, any would be preferable.

There's nothing wrong about the town that I'm stuck in, but there's nothing right about it either.

Maybe, being in Seoul would have been different.

There would have been so much to watch, so many people to see; people that I actually knew, and not a bunch of strangers.

A bunch of strangers in a strange town, but there were stranger things here.

There is a girl; there always is, but her- she's different.

Everybody stirs clear of her way, making sure not to look into her dark eyes. They call her the Ice Queen, and rightfully so.

She was terrifying. On my fifty-eight day here, our eyes met and I froze. It was like slithering snakes were twirling disgusting up my spine, paralysing me cold under her gaze.

I was running down the hall, singing Girls Just Wanna Have Fun, at the top of my lungs. She was in class and looked out the windows. Her cold stare rested on me, and my voice got stuck in my throat.

A shiver ran down my spine, as little goosebumps rose all over my body.

That day I had to remind myself over and over again, that I didn't exist. She couldn't see me, there's no way that she could.

She wasn't even looking into my eyes, and she made me freeze. I could only imagine what would happen if she could.

Apart from her, this town was as boring as they came. Everything was constant, everything was repetitive, everything was stuck in a period of stasis; never-evolving. Everything was everything that I used to seek before, but now revolt.

It was my eighty-sixth day when I realised that I had, what one could call superpowers.

I could copy things into my own little ghost world.

I could walk through walls.

I could teleport, only within this town.

I could touch people, but I tended not to because it results in an incredibly horrible sensation for both parties. But I still whisper into the bad bullies' ears when they're in the toilets. I tell them they have a small one, and they're always stuck in between scared beyond belief and offence.

I wish I could fly, but I couldn't.

I wish I could read minds, but I couldn't.

I wish I could stay at home, but I couldn't.

I tried going to Seoul and to my parent's  home before. However, it could only last a day. As soon as I would go to sleep, and open my eyes, I was back in this boring town with boring strangers.

I brought back things from home; like my backpack with all my music making materials. My Simpsons phone case, and my phone.

I like to believe the most amazing miracle is that my phone is fully charged, always. It never runs out of battery, or data. I'm on level thirteen of the Kingdom of the Legends in Galore, soon to reach fourteen. You could say I'm a legend.

Was a legend.

Or whatever.

I try not think about my life before this. I try not think how I ended up here, how my parents are, how the rest of the boys are. I avoid everything that I can about my life when I was alive. When I go back to the dorms or home, I make sure no one is at home.

I can't look at any of them.

"I can't stand the sight of you!"

I shot my head up from my seat and looked at Bomi screaming at her boyfriend, Jung Chul. I shook my head, as the girl kept yelling at the meek-looking boy in front of her.

From what I heard, they had been going out for five years now, and all those years had been exactly the same. They break up and make-up more frequently then frequentation of adverts on non-cable television. Yet, they were the couple that everyone adored, everyone knows they will end up together in the end, and they might.

I spent a whole two weeks watching them, and they were in love. Not those high school ones, the kind that grandparents have. Looking at them made my heart warm, but it reminded me my heart wasn't real.

It wasn't beating anymore; it was dead, like me.

I turned away from the couple and looked at the dirt instead. It was better than watching another episode of how could you forget our first cupcake together anniversary.

Okay, so it wasn't that extreme, but it was.

It was always on the smallest of thing, but they always made up for the same reasons as well. They were a weird couple.

"There they go again." A voice spoke as they settled beside me.

I turned my head, and my eyes almost popped out of their sockets. It was her, the Ice Princess.

She looked exactly the same as the first day I saw her. The first day I had become this ghost. Boyoung's older sister the one with worry and warmth on her face was the infamous Ice Queen of the hellhole.

"Why are they fighting when they'll get back together?" She muttered, under her breath.

"Just let them do want they want," I grumbled back, even though she wouldn't be able to hear me. "Let them live as they want, as long as they are able to."

I got up from my seat and looked at the couple in front of me. The familiar weight returning on my chest as it always did whenever I thought about the gravity of my situation. I wasn't alive, and I wasn't in my afterlife.

I am stuck here; dead, stuck and rotting away.

"At least they are alive." I huffed as I cast my eyes away from them, and began walking away.

"Where are you going?" She asked, and I froze.

"We have a lot to talk about," she smirked as he poked her straw into her banana milk.

"Look," she held up a pick one. "I got strawberry one for you. I heard that you liked it."

The girl sat in her dark blue dress, the ends of her skirt gently fluttering in the wind. The trees around us danced as the autumn breeze rushed through them. A few leaves fell down, floating to the ground, one landed on her lap. She picked it off with her right hand, as the left extended the pink drink towards me.

I was staring at her wide-eyed.

Could she see me?

No, there's no way.

"It's nice to finally officially meet you, Im Jaebum." She smiled at me, softly. Her eyes were on me, and I couldn't move.

My heart drummed in my chest, trying to escape. My breathing felt heavier as the air left my lungs.

How was this possible? How could she see me?

"How?" I asked, breathless. She sat there on the wooden bench. Her hands placed the drink beside her, as her dark hair floated lightly in the wind. Her eyes were soft, but her lips were curling into an arrogant smile.

"You can see me, y/n?" I gulped, my hands shaking beside me. I clenched them into a fist, keeping them still as I shook my head trying to make this dream fade away.

"I can, Jaebum." She answered, shooting me a know-it-all smile.

"How do you know my name?" I shot at her, I glared at her.

"You're part of a boy group, called GOT7. You are the leader, born in 1996, 1.79 meters tall, and you really have a wonderful voice." She fired back, holding my gaze.

"How long have you known it was me?" I asked her, trying to keep level-headed.

"I found out about you yesterday."

"Since when could you see me?" I asked her, quietly.

She bit her lip, as her eyes cast to the ground.

"I saw you from the first day; when we met by the lake."

Anger shot up my spine, as red blinded my vision.

I couldn't believe it. I was shaking with rage, as my breathing laboured.

"Jaebum," she sighed, apologetically as she saw my reaction.

She could see me all along, but she left me alone in this fucking hell alone?

I held out my hand to stop her from saying anything. I didn't need her pity, or her empty words. I didn't need anything from her. At least not for now; anything she says could tip me over. Letting the blinding rage consume every part of my body like blazing fire.

I spun on my heels and sprinted off to the only place I found comfort. The one place I felt at home now. The place I had opened my eyes too.

[sgkjd]

hey, it's me again! I think I sort of get what you mean. for the last 4ish years I've been almost hypochondriac when it comes to my mental health- I've spent the entire summer in 2016 looking up every single condition and disorder and whatever I could find to see if I could somehow relate, because it's like the thought of being ill makes me feel better somehow. I knew there was something wrong with me and I needed some sort of factual proof, I needed it to be something i could name and blame[1]

which is one of the reasons (beside money) why I've avoided seeking professional help at first, because I was terrified that someone would tell me that I didn't actually have a reason to be or feel the way I did(/do). even before all this I've always thought that seeing a therapist at least once in your life could be beneficial to anyone, and that idea didn't change. what changed is that fear of not being taken seriously or potentially being ridiculed came into the equation  and I just couldn't risk it. then this phase sort of went away, maybe because I realized that even if I'd wanted to I couldn't possibly afford a therapist, which is probably the reason why I started really wanting to. the way the human brain works never ceases to amaze me,,lol. anyway, this past year has probably been the toughest of my life so far, nothing particularly /bad/ happened, but still my mental health has deeply deteriorated, and I've been dying to let it all out and  I've been dying to have someone to open up to, but most of the time I'm just so confused I wouldn't even know where to begin, yk? and I've tried with my friends, but either nothing comes out the way I'd want it to or I just can't manage to say everything I actually want to say. and it feels so wrong to burden them and suffocate them with all this shit and it's not fair to ask them to sort this out for me since I seem unable to. so when things start going really bad I just retreat and avoid them for weeks on end. which also isn't fair because they do worry and they say they want to be there for me and help, but I also know they have they're own shit to go through and I hate to bring all the attention to myself while I can't even bother to ask if they need anything from me. idk it just feels all so messed up sometimes. and as you said, the thought of having someone that's just there to dedicate their time to you not because they pity you but because that's what they chose to devote they're entire life to (or in some cases just because that's what they're paid for, I guess, but wtvr) feels so liberating. I hate feeling so much guilt all the time, and I hate being the friend, the daughter, the person that's always sulking around, whining about made up problems and ruining everyone's mood. I'm so sorry this came to be an endless message, god.. I wasn't even aware of how much I was writing lol. and I've lost the thread. nice. anyway im so incredibly glad you've find some sort of relief here💗 and hell yeah, no matter the reason you want to see a therapist, you do what you need to feel better. we all hang on as we can. I've actually tried talking to my best friend and even if I know I will never feel comfortable enough to talk to them as I would to a therapist, now that I've come out of the dark place i was in I'm able to be a little hopeful again. maybe things will get better after all. and I wish the same for you💗

i think i have a weakness for long texts😳😳 it wasn’t ur intention probably,,but it’s just so..... i feel like u have seen through my whole being..... even though our situations are/were different, i just can’t help but resonate w all of this.. what u said that the thought of being ill makes u feel better and about being the person that only brings down the mood.. i’m getting goosebumps all over wow😳

my heart is really happy hearing u tried talking to ur friend and even after that realization that it’s not completely comfortable talking to them, u still feel some sort of hope rn🌟💗 it should be alright as long as we’re hopeful even a little, right?

[coup-de-maine]

How to enter a fandom - RPC

Hey guys, time for a friendly PSA from yours truely~

So I’ve been in and out of a lot of fandoms, made friends, enemies, frenemies, grave mistakes and happy accidents. I also see a lot of people come in other fandoms. Most of yall do great but I see some people carry in this weird sort of self deprecating attitude that can immediately turn rpers away from them, which results in; more of that self deprecation. So Im here to hopefully help out with the best ways to enter a fandom or an rpc, make your presence known and make lots of wonderful friends.

Now the first, and most important thing, and I notice a ton of people struggle with it is:

General attitude. 

Let me give two examples of some first time posts.

“Hey! I’m new to the fandom. I know my bio and my theme sucks but would anyone like to rp? Maybe?”

VS.

“Hey! I’m new to the fandom. My bio and rules are located here, though they’re still under construction I’m really eager to develop them with interactions!”

Now I know the first one is tempting for a lot of reasons. You might not even feel like its all that bad, but up next to the second one it actually sounds a little...depressing, monotone, dry. Even though they start the same, one ends with me feeling like: this person really doesn’t put effort into things, they dont even really want to be here. All my threads with them are going to be lazily written or probably written with half baked enthusiasm.

The second person is happy to be here, eager to interact, admits that since they’re a new blog not everything is perfect. Yet, they don’t talk down on themselves or make it seem like anyone who talks to them will only be taking pity on them.

This is actually a big problem I see in the rpc. Making people take pity on you for interactions and the rule with that is simple:

don’t make people feel like they have to take pity on you. 

It’s a knee jerk reaction, I know. We’re all awkward humans on the internet who want to play up our faults. Who wants to say “My stuff is SO awesome! It’s the best”??? 

Well. You do. You’re new to a fandom. People already have established relationships, character arks, possibly with another version of the muse youre playing. Backstories so detailed it’ll make your head spin. You are literally selling yourself to these other rpers. Don’t sell them “A vacuum cleaner that sucks. No, not sucks up the dirt, it just sucks. Like me, Im trash and dont even have a working vacuum” No one wants to buy a vacuum cleaner that sucks.

Hate to break it to you, but when you say you suck, or your stuff sucks; people are gunna believe you. Or they’re just gunna pity you. And thats not great either. 

Heck you might think; why not? So long as they rp with me, whats wrong with that? 

Well... lots of things but mostly; pity isn’t a good feeling. Nobody wants to feel guilted into rping with you. Imagine seeing someone on your dash constantly posting about how no one likes them, their character or interacting with them. How they wanna die because they never get asks, no one likes their starters. (Sound extreme? I’ve seen it.) It makes you feel bad right? It makes you wanna like them but like- where do you even start??? They don’t even like them?? What common ground do you have?? “Hey, I see you hate yourself... uh... I hate you too?” Not great. Actually bad. You don’t know how to approach this person without becoming an emotional crutch, and you know they’ll latch on to you and suck every positive emotion out of your body so how do you win?

So lesson one is; People don’t want to be forced to feel so bad that they rp with you, they want to feel inspired to. Inspire some dudes! (or non-dude identifying people)

Presentation!

This is everything. Present yourself. You don’t need flashy icons or a cool promo- let me tell you, I’ve made some shitty promos in my life. See Here

That was my promo for a long as time. Until it was THIS that a friend made for me (A friend that I made. Through how awesome I presented myself. Thanks Vee, if you see this I still love you)

I can’t stress enough how important attitude is because I’ve had both a shitty attitude and a great one in the RPC and let me tell you, nothing kills a blog faster than a shitty attitude. Wanna make a self deprecating posts about that meme that you got 0 asks for? NUH UH. Think again. PITY = BAD, SHORT LASTING FRIENDSHIPS. INSPIRED = SUPER AWESOME HAPPY FUN TIMES FOREVER.

Yo, present yourself in a way that makes people wanna approach you. Get them interested, say something wacky or edgy or if your character is self deprecating then self deprecate through them but DO IT IN A FUN WAY. The people who care about icons and fancy promos usually aren’t worth lasting friendships either. Sometimes they literally spend more time formatting than writings something worth while for you. (some of you really balance it and just love formatting but u know im not talking about u Im talking about those that literally wont talk to us that dont)

So present yourself well and be genuine.

--- WAIT WAIT WAIT- be genuine?? What if my genuine self is self deprecating and negative? 

[JOHNNY TEST NOISE] 

HELL NO shut the what up I know you’re not, I know that’s a reflex to cover up how insecure you are, I know you hate how pathetic and small you feel so you point out all the things wrong with you before someone else can. That’s not you, and you are capable of more than that.

Dude. (and non-dude identifying peeps) I’m gunna say it again. I’m gunna say it a million times; one day it will sink in. Everybody feels that way. 

What?? Octo ur so cool and confident tho

You know how you never noticed?? CANT SEE MY HANDS SHAKE THROUGH THE COMPUTER.

DONT KNOW HOW LONG I HESITATED BEFORE SENDING THAT ASK MEME TO YA.

The internet is a playground because you can trick people into believing whatever you want about yourself. YEP even good things!!! You don’t have to wear your flaws on your sleeve, and you certainly don’t have to wear them like a full body cast that prevents you from doing anything fun in your life.

Take the cast off, take a risk. You literally have nothing to lose. Especially if no one interacts with you as is anyways.

Be mindful

This is more of a trick I use to make myself feel better. I don’t follow a lot of people so my dash is pretty slow. It’s fairly easy to tell when people are and aren’t active/online so I literally have to trick myself sometimes but;

If you reblog a meme and get nothing, step back and ask yourself; am I sure anyone even saw it? and are the people who did maybe to shy to send anything? Or maybe nothing in that meme applies to their character.

As a mute character I am VERY restricted to what memes I reply to. As a character who speaks VERY LITTLE I am VERY restricted to what dialogues I can send at all. This means I’m required to edit memes a little (this is allowed by most meme creators btw) or I need a very good relationship with a character in order to say/sign that many words at them.

And worse case scenario, queue it and reblog it again/later. Its no biggie, some memes don’t make it.

Self reflect

Check out people on the dash. Do they have interactions? What are they like? Is their character more welcoming? Maybe you’re character is more intimidating. You might need to actually seek out interaction.

Tumblr has this huge enigma where everyone wants asks but no one wants to send them. Curious anons come from someone, magic anons come from your peers, followers, friends. Some of them are pretty obvious. Want asks? Send them. We really need to get the ball rolling with this because its honestly a problem. Show some initiative and reach out. It actually feels pretty good seeing someone react to your outrageous anon. And its a lot of stress relief if you play an otherwise very serious character to get to branch out and be silly.

So you send asks, you like starter calls- why isn’t it working?

Well, a stranger knocks on your door and tries to get to know you. Its a little awkward- it can work sure in some cases. But in most you’ll probably close the door and phone the police.

The RPC isn’t as strange as that but what’s easier? Talking to a muse you’ve never met from a blog you’ve never seen before? Or writing a thread with your best bud, throwing in inside jokes and references to your favourite shows- teasing each other about that one embarrassing thing that happened to your muse- yeah. Yeah you get it.

If you have history or at least an idea what someone is like, you will want to interact with them more. I don’t know if you’re some mean... meanie pants whos gunna smack my muse because he offered you a cookie. And maybe you are, but if I don’t know you, or know that your muse is deeply traumatized by cookies, I might take that as you saying “Ew no get away I never wanna rp with you”.

It sounds harsh, but I KNOW it happens. It STILL happens to me, even with people I’m friends with. Even if someone has multiple blogs and I get on fine with one muse, if the other hates me I might get uneasy about sending in asks cause I feel like I’m directly bothering the mun (who I love on this blog but WHAT IF THEY START HATING ME THERE TOO???)

Separation is tricky. We all get jealous or feel neglected when our partners focus on another thread/ship or send mean angsty replies which is why its important to check yourself remind yourself you have value, mun =/= muse and that it’s all in good fun.

Have Rules

UGH no!!! Not rules I hate rules, I dont want to restrict anyone!

Listen. I get it. I was a rule-less blog for a long time. But you know what? You need them. Not just for you, but for the people who wanna interact. I still feel the need to ask people who have rules what they are and aren’t comfortable with. You might not realize it but shit can go down in rps especially in certain fandoms. Even if its just the basics. Write them. They matter.

Unless you’re fine with someone literally controlling your character, or a blog you dont even follow who RPs David Letterman tags you in a smutty thread where your muse and him are married and he’s heavily pregnant with 4 narwal baby’s I- I think you can see where I’m going.

If its just the basics, thats fine, everyone loves seeing that. No god modding, not forced shipping, ect- great. Less for me to remember. Add to it if you need to. Everyone experiences rp different. Make your experience a comfortable one.

(And stay tf away from me Preggo-letterman)

Step away.

If you’re feeling negative, just step away. Do not make a big post about it alerting everyone who follows you because they might not all respond well. If you have close friends in then fandom you can go to, talk to them, vent a little, or just remove yourself and get those feelings out. But remember that no one here is equipped to be your therapist, and we cant all be expected to take the burden from you. It is up to you to regulate your emotions. Use coping skills but please don’t make the fandom or your blog a toxic place to be.

You don’t feel good, and no one reading your posts feels good, and building friendships on not feeling good is just... completely not good.

Im not saying you must be sunshine and rainbows all the time, but feeling bad feels bad and even though rping is just a hobby and a past time you are still reaching into other peoples lives. Leave a good impact, try to be someone you would want to meet in the rpc. Make it a better place.

Tips and Tricks

If you leave with nothing else, please take these:

Send Messages. 

IM people, send them asks, get to know them before RPing.

Be kind.

Be generous.

Be enthusiastic.

Be happy.

[whattimeisitintokyo]

Somos Familia: Chapter 34 (Part 2)

Well this chapter ended up being way too long. I had planned more for this chapter, but that ended up being long enough to be its own chapter and I’m tired of feeling that I have to finish the whole thing in order to post it. So here’s the last bit of the chapter. You can find the whole chapter on ff.net, and I’ll try to have it up on AO3 with a illustration soon. Sorry again for the long wait.

Also tomorrow is my birthday. I guess you could say that finishing this chapter on my own terms was my gift to myself. :)

---------------------------

Chapter 34: No Me Dejas (Part 2)

“Three days have passed since Dia de Muertos, and the country still mourns the abrupt and tragic loss of Ernesto de la Cruz, widely considered as one of the greatest musicians in the modern history of Mexico. Señor de la Cruz had just finished performing a concert that evening when sources say that a giant prop bell had accidentally broken off from the stage rigging above the singer, crushing and killing the singer instantly.

Since then thousands of grieving mourners have flocked to the gates of de la Cruz’s magnificent mansion in Colonia del Valle, holding candle light vigils and singing prayers while also leaving tokens and flowers outside. The mansion has also served as the home to his goddaughter and rising starlet, Coco Rivera. Whilst being known as a favorite topic of gossip this pass year in newspapers and magazines, Señora Rivera has surprisingly been keeping a low profile and out of the public eye since that fateful night. It can only be assumed that she is taking this time to mourn as well for the loss of such an important family member.

In related news her father Héctor Rivera, de la Cruz’s longtime business partner and songwriter, has been in hospital since that night after being taken from the scene by paramedics. There is no word on his condition, but his lawyer has assured that Señor Rivera was not injured in the stage accident but is instead seeking treatment for an undisclosed illness. We here at Excélsior wish him a speedy recovery and our thoughts and prayers are with him and his family.

Petitions are already being made to have Senor de la Cruz’s body to be lain to rest in his hometown of Santa Cecilia in Oaxaca, despite heavy requests to have him entombed in la Panteón Civil de Dolores alongside other famous people in Rotonda de las Personas Ilustres.

At the time of his death Señor de la Cruz was in the middle of several movie projects that will sadly forever remain unfinished, including a biopic about the Mexican Revolution, and was in talks of a deal to lend his voice for an American animated movie with Dis-“

A low, quivering moan broke Imelda’s concentration on the newspaper and turned it towards her husband currently occupying the hospital bed in front on her. With a sigh she folded it and placed it to her side, reaching out and grasping one of his twitching hands with hers. She winced at the tremors she still felt rattling slightly through his fingers, as well as the awkward way she was forced to hold his hand.

What with his wrist being tightly braced and strapped to the guard rail of the bed.

His other hand was also strapped on the opposite side, and a large padded belt wrapped around his thin chest to keep him firmly in place on the bed. An oxygen mask was placed over his face and several IVs were pumping him full of fluids and medicine. And despite being in a deep state of sleep, his teeth were clenched tight and his brows knitted into an expression of intense distress. A keening whine escaped his throat that gave into a deep, hacking fit of coughs.

Imelda immediately pulled off the mask and brought a clean handkerchief to his mouth as Héctor coughed painfully, only the straps keeping his body from convulsing on the bed. Finally, with one good expulsion he was able to clear his airway for the time being, gasping as Imelda wiped the corners of his mouth and placing the mask back. As he settled back down, he gently started to tremble again, whining pitifully and tears leaking from his dark sunken eyes.

Imelda sighed as she brought a clean corner of the handkerchief to wipe the tears from his face before placing it down to run her fingers through his greasy, unwashed hair to offer some form of comfort. It only seemed to distress him further and with a broken dry sob he wrenched his head away from her touch, lost in his nightmares.

It was truly heartbreaking to see Héctor reduced to such a state, but she was grateful to see him getting at least some form of rest. Especially after the last few days.

“What is this?!” she had screamed at the doctor, watching on in horror as several orderlies fought to restrain her husband’s mad flailing. “This is not pneumonia! What is happening to him?!”

Before the doctor could answer Héctor let out a wail and swung a punch at an unfortunate orderly standing too close by and knocking him off his feet. His arm now free he managed to rip off the IV out and began to frantically scratch at his chest, all the while yelling out profanities and indecipherable words as his eyes tracked at unseen figures and visions. As Imelda was hurried out of the door the last thing she heard was Héctor calling out for Ernesto.

And then for her.

“It’s the DT’s.” the doctor had explained after he was able to calm her down some with Coco and Julio by her side. “Delirium tremens. It’s alcohol withdrawal. If he’s been drinking for as long as you’ve said, Señor Magallanes, then it’s quite dangerous for him to just completely stop. It causes vivid hallucinations, irregular heart rates, sometimes seizures and, if severe enough, death.”

Ignoring the agonized weeping from her daughter and her own chest clenching in grief, Imelda whispered. “What can be done?”

The doctor wrung his hands and looked down in dismay. “Honestly, not much. There are medicines that can be given to treat this, but they would adversely affect his respiratory system. Given his pneumonia I can’t recommend giving it to him. Also, there’s the fact that he’s malnourished, and the shock… All I can do is give him some mild sedatives and monitor his heart and lungs. The rest is up to him, I’m afraid.”

They had returned to his room a few hours later to find him as he was now: strapped down and barely able to move, Dios knows that he was trying though. Despite the small amount of medicine that was given to calm him down, Héctor still saw visions that were terrifying to him and he strained to lash out at them. His screams had died down to pitiful whimpers and moans, and tears streamed down into his hair and ears. Over the next few days he was either in this state or a death-like sleep, and Imelda didn’t know which one was worse.

She felt absolutely foolish about it now, but seeing her husband going insane right in front of her had caused her to lash out at her daughter. Why didn’t she tell her that it was this bad? That he was starving and drinking himself to death, that his cold was actually much worse than it was, and that he was so miserable and broken-hearted that he screamed for her in his nightmares?

Instead of a cowed child being rightfully chastised by her mother for keeping secrets from her, Coco had met her glare dead on and even more. Imelda flinched back in shock at the righteous fury that showed on her daughter’s face, and what she had said next had finally knocked her off the high pedestal that she had set herself up on:

“What do you care, Mamá?”

And Imelda had to admit, she was right. Nothing she had done the past few months had shown that she cared about the man that she had kicked out of her life. She ignored every call, sent back every letter and telegram, even dodged each mention of him when Coco would talk to her on the phone. When she had bid a warm goodbye to Julio and Victoria she told them to give her love and warm wishes to Coco when they arrived. But not to Héctor. She just didn’t care.

But that was wrong. She did care. She cared about him and loved him so much that it hurt. And seeing her husband now, so lost in his sickness and misery, Imelda couldn’t bear the guilt that was crushing her from the inside.

“idiota… This wasn’t supposed to happen.” Imelda whispered as she locked Héctor’s cold fingers around hers once more. “You weren’t supposed to do this. Héctor…”

But he continued to sleep fitfully, his breathing hitching and occasionally giving in to more cough fits, and she continued to stay by his side. It was all she could do, now that it was too late.

-----------------------------------------

It was quiet now.

The walls had stopped melting into putrid puddles of gore and maggots, the bugs had stopped buzzing in his head and stinging his flesh, and the monsters had stopped attacking him.

The monsters were the most terrifying though. They held onto his arms and legs so tightly that he thought he would end up breaking his bones in his efforts to get away from them. They had looked human too, but humans didn’t have glowing white eyes and rotting flesh. They’re voices were low and distorted, filling him with dread despite what the words they said that were supposed to sound soothing.

Señor Rivera, calm down. You’re safe!

We have to give him something!

We can’t risk his lungs giving out! Just strap him down!

Dios, turn him over! There’s too much fluid, suck his lungs out!

It took forever for them to finally let him be, after many terrifying episodes of not being able to breathe and more fits of screaming in terror of the horrible visions in front of him, but he was finally able to break free and make a run for it. Well, run wasn’t the best word for how he was able to finally move. Floating wasn’t either. The world seemed to dissolve into a myriad of distracting colors and sounds, and he simply let his mind flow with it in a dream-like state.

And then suddenly he found himself finally there.

Back in front of the bell.

With a cry of triumph, he made his way over to it and braced himself against it in a sort of clumsy hug. “Don’t worry Ernesto! I’ll get you out! You’ll be alright!”

And so he had pushed. And pulled. Digging his feet into the earth and straining as hard as he could against the cold hard bell. He shouted encouraging words towards his friend, not letting the lack of a response deter him in any way. It seemed like he did it for hours, for days even, his throat hoarse as he cried out for help from someone, anyone! He’d even accept the monsters help if he could find them. In a last ditch effort he had even called out for his wife, pleading with her to help him even if she wanted nothing to do with him afterwards.

But she didn’t come. He could swear he heard her voice whispering to him, but he couldn’t make it out no matter how hard he tried to listen. With a broken heart he could only conclude that she was telling him to leave her alone. She had no use for such a lousy husband and a terrible father to her children. He couldn’t say he blamed her. He couldn’t even help his brother escape from his prison.

He was worthless.

And so, for the longest time, there was nobody except him and that bell. When he couldn’t push against it anymore, when his voice finally gave out and his spirit broke, he sat in front of it and softly cried. He murmured apologies to Ernesto, to Imelda, to his children, to anyone he had wronged in his existence. There was no use. There was nothing left for him. Except that bell.

“What are you doing?”

With a gasp Héctor looked up at the new presence before him. At first he feared it was one of those terrible monsters come back to take him away again, but it’s voice was not bone-chilling and grating. Rather it was sweet and clear, the clearest Héctor had heard in a while, but the figure itself was… light. A vaguely human shape ball of light that burned so bright yet oddly didn’t hurt to look at. If he squinted a little Héctor could guess that its head was slightly tilted in a sort of curious quirk. It was sort of cute, if a ball of light could be considered cute, and Héctor found himself slowly start to relax.

“I-…” he sniffled pitifully and turned watery eyes towards the bell. “I can’t move it… Ernesto’s under there and… I have to save him.”

“Really?” the light said and floated over the bell. Héctor saw a hand reach out and knock against the bell, and it rang out loudly enough for Héctor cringe back with a wince. He didn’t like that sound. Not at all. “I don’t know. Sounds empty to me.”

Héctor gaped at the bell, his heart sinking, and frantically shook his head. “N-no!... He’s under there! I saw it drop on him!”

The ball of light chuckled in tinkling sort of way, and Héctor glared at it. “Well, si, you did. I saw it too. But that was a while ago. He’s not under that bell anymore either. This bell,” it said and knocked on the bell again, the loud clanging causing Héctor to grip his head in pain. “… is hollow. Empty. And is just here to waste your time.”

Tearing his hands from his head, Héctor stared wide eyed at the ball of light. “Waste my time?... What do you mean?”

“I mean you need to wake up and face reality, tonto!”

Suddenly the ball of light zipped towards him and enveloped him in a soothing warm glow, almost as if it was hugging him, and Héctor found himself being lifted towards his feet. Once he was firmly standing up the light took him by the hand and started to lead him away from the bell. He resisted a little with a slight whine, his gaze fixed back on the bell, until a sharp tug jerked him away and pulled him forward. With a huff he glared at the light leading him away, gritting his teeth when he thought he could make out a sly smirk flitting across the vague features.

He continued to look back though, watching as the bell slowly faded from view into a white void. Then he noticed that the walls started melting again. His breath hitched a little in fear, terrified that the horrible visions from before were coming back to haunt him. The light gripped his hand tighter, but in a soothing manner, and Héctor managed to find comfort in the light for the first time since he met it. It was then he noticed that the walls weren’t exactly melting, but rather… falling into place.

Windows stacked next to each other, light fixtures dotted the ceiling in a straight line, and floor tiles tumbled into place just as his feet managed to touch them. It was then he noticed the pattern of the tiles, the color of them, and the shape of the windows and other fixtures. He had been here before. It had been a long time ago, but he had been here long enough to recognize the way the hallway was set up, and what doors led to what. It was engrained into his memory.

“I don’t like this place.” Héctor whispered.

“No, I don’t either,” the light said softly. “But it’s where you need to be right now.”

They continued on at a comfortable pace down the hallway, and slowly people started to materialize in Héctor’s vision. Men and women in sterile white clothing walking past them without even noticing them. Two of them were wheeling a bed down at such a speed that Héctor barely had time to react before they barreled right through them and raced down the opposite direction. The light giggled at that, and Héctor couldn’t help but give a shaky smile himself.

But suddenly a thought came to mind that chilled him to the bone, and he looked down at the light apprehensively. “Am… Am I a ghost?”

“Hmmm… No, I wouldn’t say that. But I wouldn’t worry about that. It’ll all be over soon.”

That was when the light finally led him into one of the rooms and let go of his hand. Looking up Héctor stopped dead in his tracks at what he saw: It was him. Lying in a bed, his hands strapped tightly onto the railings and his chest rising slowly with breath. And sitting beside him… was…

“No.”

The light paused on its way to bed to turn back and look at him. “No?”

“No I-I… I can’t.” Héctor whispered, his eyes never leaving his beautiful wife’s face. “Why is she there? She… She doesn’t love me. I can’t take it anymore… It h-hurts too much.”

“I’m pretty sure she loves you. Why else would she be sitting with you? Look at her. She looks so sad.”

Héctor shook his head miserably. “She’s just waiting for me to wake up… to tell me it’s finally over. That she’s moved on… I can’t face her… I’m too tired.” He dropped to his knees and stared at the floor, all the peace he was starting to feel again being crushed by despair. “Maybe it’s for the best… That I don’t wake up at all… Ernesto’s gone. Imelda hates me… I have nothing left.”

His head hung low and tears clouding his vision, he almost didn’t see the light step towards him until he felt its warm glow cup his face gently. With a sniffle he raised his eyes its face, or what he could guess was its face, and let it wipe the tears from his cheeks. Then he watched as it raised its hand slightly above his line of sight, and then…

*THUMP*

“OW!”

Héctor reared back onto his rump and flashed a hand up to his stinging forehead, rubbing it and staring at the figure before him in shock. “Did… Did you just flick my forehead?!”

“Si.”

“Why?!

“For being an idiot.”

With a snarl he managed to get back onto his knees. “I don’t need to take that from- GGGNAK!” His head was yanked forward as the light grabbed his nose, twisted, and pulled down hard. Then with its other hand it pulled his ear as hard as it could and started to shake his head back and forth. “GAH! What are you doing?!” he screamed nasally. “Stop!”

“What do you mean don’t wake up at all?!” The lighted shouted at him, continuing its assault as Héctor’s eyes watered with pain instead of sorrow. “Where is that coming from?! ‘Riveras never give up.’ Isn’t that what you’ve always said?”

Trying to pry the figure’s hands from his face, he glared up at it. “I’m not a real Rivera… I just married one- ARGH!”

“You’ve been a Rivera a whole lot longer than you haven’t been, old man!” the light yelled back. “And you haven’t lost everything! What about your children? Coco, and your granddaughter! What about Miguel. Are you really going to leave a little boy to grow up without his father? And who’s going to greet Matty when he comes back from the war?!”

“As for your wife, she right there waiting for you to wake up! She can’t run and hide in Santa Cecilia anymore! If you have something to say to her, then you make her listen to you! Think about it, you’re sick in a hospital bed. At the very least you have pity on your side, right? But don’t give up on her so easily, cabrón!”

“All right, all right! Ow! Just let go of me already!”

With one last shove the light let go of Héctor’s head and he cradled his face in his hands, getting his breathing back under control and trying to rub away the burns and stings. He flinched as the warm hand landed back on his shoulder, but when no further violence came his way he dared to look back up.

“I know this has been hard on you.” The light said gently. “And I know that you’re scared. But even if things don’t work out for you and your wife, you shouldn’t feel the need to give up. You still have a lot to live for.”

Héctor stared at it for a few long moments, before turning back towards the bed. Towards Imelda. It was right, she did look sad. And tired. If he woke up now, maybe he could talk to her. Maybe she’d talk to him. Despite his brain trying to convince him over and over that he was done, it was his time, and there was no need to linger on, his heart wouldn’t let him. It was leading him back to her. To his family.

Just like it always had.

Damn poet.

With a heavy sigh me slowly stood up and made it to his feet, his gaze now fixed on his unconscious form on the bed. With a new determination he made his way over and paused at the edge. Do I just… lay on myself? With a short snort of laughter he did just that, and was surprised to see his leg phase through himself as he climbed onto the bed. Rolling over he laid down onto his back, stared up at the ceiling, and waited.

…..

And waited…

…..

“Uh, nothing’s happening?”

The light shrugged. “You have been sleeping for a long time, and you’re sick. It might take a while for you to actually wake up.”

Before Héctor could reply to that, he started to feel changes slowly flowing into his body. Ah, this must be it. He started to feel heavier, more solid. That itself was a comforting feeling. He settled back down onto the bed and let the sensations build up through his limbs. He stayed still like that for a few minutes, with his eyes closed, before a tinkling little laugh next to him caused him to open them.

“This is taking forever!” The light giggled. It was such a sweet sound. So pure. Where had he heard it before? “Though not surprising. Even when you were healthy it took forever to wake you up, even when I jumped on your chest in the morning and tried to pry your eyes open.”

Héctor brows furrowed in confusion. He tried to lift his head off the pillow to look at the light properly… but found that he couldn’t. Slowly the solid feeling of his body turned into a heavy burden. He was so heavy! Too heavy! I can’t move!

“W-what?... What’s hap-”

The heaviness started to form inside his chest. His breathing turned into frantic gasps as he struggled to get air into his lungs. And now his body started to hurt! His arms and legs cramped and his head started to pound. Behind his gasping he heard his heart beating loudly in his ears. This is bad! This is bad! What’s happening to me?!

Then suddenly the light was leaning over his face, and Héctor stared at it with fright. Was this it’s plan all along? To trap him in this pain filled husk and laugh at him for his foolishness? He never should have trusted it! It started to lower itself to him, and with a small whimper he clenched his eyes shut and braced himself against... What? Oblivion? Mutilation? The destruction of his very soul? Whatever it was it couldn’t be good! It couldn’t-

“And don’t worry about Tio Nesto. He’ll be all right. I won’t let him be alone.”

….

Tio Nesto?

Héctor’s eyes snapped open and he saw the light was hovering over his face. He saw that smile again grace it’s face before it leaned over and… gave him a small kiss on the forehead. It was quick and chaste, but it was so warm and sweet, and it slightly soothed the aches that were afflicting his body. It drew back again and stared at him with such love in it’s eyes, and Héctor realized with a start of the fact that he could see it’s eyes.

They were his eyes!

Her eyes.

“You feel better Papá.”

With a choked out sob, reached out towards the light- my daughter!- but found that he couldn’t. He glanced down at his hands and saw that they were strapped to the railings of his bed, and no matter how hard he shook or strained against them he could not tear them free. Sitting up was also not an option, as the thick belt across his chest prevented him from lifting even an inch.

He turned his attention back towards his little girl, but she was gone. She had left him. Again.

“Leti!” Héctor cried out, tears streaming down his face as he tried to strain against the bindings once more. “Leti, don’t go! Leti come back, please come back! Don’t leave me, mija. Please don’t leave me again! Please, please, please…”

“Calm down Héctor.” A tired voice broke through his weak sobbing, and he glanced up through watery tears as his wife ran a hand through his hair in a calming motion. She began to speak to him, numbly, as if she had been repeating the same things over and over. “It’s not real. You’re alright. None of this is really happening. She’s not here. It’s okay, Héctor.”

Héctor concentrated on his wife’s face, forcing himself to calm his seizing chest and his pounding heart. He listened to her soothing words and slowly the hysteria faded away, leaving him exhausted and light-headed. And as the minutes passed and he became more and more aware of his immediate surroundings, the visions from before slowly faded as well. What had he been dreaming about? There was a light, he remembered. And a voice. It was so familiar. But even those vague recollections of his dream faded into nothingness as well, as for the first time in over three days Héctor was finally awake and aware.

“Imelda?” Héctor whispered. “What happened?”

“…Héctor?”

[lipcolour]

i truly believe in my heart and soul that me as a person was not made for any type of social interaction and relationships..no matter what, i dont think ive ever had a relationship in my whole life that i've just enjoyed and not experienced stress and misery over. and at this point i have to blame myself cause what else could it be..i cant keep blaming other people. i just feel taken advantage of constantly which is a really vain and dumb thing to say for someone with such low self esteem. i think i give my whole self to people a lot and when its not appreciated or acknowledged i just feel so lost..and i just want to retreat back into myself and never speak or enjoy someones company ever again lmao. i have too much love to give and to me thats a good thing..i often think about how i really dont have much to offer, but if someone ever decided to love me back that they would perhaps be lucky because i really would give them all of me..all my love and passion would go into them. but i feel like thats all i have to offer lmfao and i need to realise that isnt a good thing to a lot of people? a lot of love can be overwhelming and suffocating. but i also feel like its all i have. just because its what i want, and the way i love and like to be loved..doesn't mean thats what other people want. nothing is permanent and that should be a comforting thought and for some things it is, but in this case it just makes no relationship ever feel worth it? and most of the time they arent...like what is the need to go through frustration and sadness or any other hardship to maybe feel some happiness along the way when its inevitable that it will end one day, whether it be in a negative way or not!! it doesnt feel worth it at all & i guess and i want to find a relationship that feels like its worth it. the need to make things better and work it out is so important to have.. & i guess thats my own problem cause im not a person to confront or to seek out a solution but i’ll just stay in solitude and either hope it gets better or just deal with it like any other inconvenience in life. i think i am a bit of a pushover and thats trouble for myself? i hate analysing things when it means that i have to come to terms with the fact that people are hurting me and im just letting them because i have no concept self worth and like them too much to do anything about it. then i just feel like im pitying myself too much, and im almost embarrassed to feel that way..like get over yourself? in general i've never been someone to seek out friendships, mostly because of anxiety and insecurity in myself but also just because i'm constantly stuck between the mindset that "if things are meant to work out; they will and whats meant to be will be" and "you have to put effort into things if you expect anything to come out of it". im someone that will rarely ever text first because i believe that if someone really wants to talk to me..they will. i never consider that maybe someone else feels the exact same way and thats really selfish of me but i cant really help it? i dont think of myself special enough for anyone to really want to talk to me, so i never message anyone first in case its an inconvience or maybe they just dont want to speak to me..and im always telling myself like if someone randomly messaged me i would be more than happy to speak to them so why would it be different for anyone else.. my whole life is just me vs my rational mind!!! none of this ranting has a point tbh i just started this cause im feelin..emotional(tm) about shit but now im just stating random facts about myself and not even ranting about what im sad about rgrkthh. im pretty awful with words and even after all this i still dont feel like any of my feelings are explained well enough..and not because im a ~complex~ person but just because i find it so hard to explain how i feel tbh and i know that it could probably be explained so simply in a few sentences but instead i rant in massive paragraphs like these and end up going on a huge tangent about unrelated stuff that is also wrong with me. in general...id maybe put effort into shit if i felt worth it but i never do.. my  self worth is at -84838576 and thats why   expect everyone else to do shit for me and if they dont ? they hate me ? i love having a black and white mindset

[angstymcspicy-blog]

22/05/20

1 year and 2 months. it took me 14 months before i broke all kinds of self defences and decided to seek refuge here. i love being at home, i really do. i dont have to force myself to talk to people, dont have to get tempted by food outside, dont have to exhaust my emotions, i dont have to put on makeup, i dont have to think of what to wear and regret it later for looking too fat and ugly, dont have to disappoint anyone and dont have to feel disappointed by anyone. 

but being at home starts to feel overwhelming at some point. its not that i crave physical interaction or that i miss my friends (do i have any, really?), or the boi for that matter — i just get really afraid of myself. you see, once i start sitting down with myself, i dont ever get up. 

i dont even know where to start... is life falling apart? not really. yes, we’re living in the middle of a pandemic. but i am blessed alhamdulillah to have a roof over my head, for my family members and for a s/o. but this period of being at home and everyone having so much time on their hands... really puts certain things into perspective. for instance, with so much time everyone has to offer now that we’re all confined to the comforts of our own four walls, how come not a single soul that i once called my friends have reached out. yes! i had 3 so far... in the span of 2 months. that’s a great feat, i aint gonna deny. but you see, the people i thought who could give 2 shits abt apparently rather give 2 shits to other people instead. so that makes me think — where do i stand in your life? how do i emerge from this quarantine and what do i make of our relationships after this? pretend like we totally know whats happening in each other’s lives via superficial and menial social media updates that you selectively show after having retaking them 100s of times or do i act all weird bec literally, i do not know whats happening to who anymore. this is simply bec im not talking to anyone. if i dont initiate a conversation, no one comes to me. im really not that interesting of a friend and not that exciting to have me around. i just float and exist... hence my insignificance in their lives. at one point, i guess it was just out of convenience that we were friends. & now due to circumstantial factors, it is not convenient or important having me around anymore.

yes i do have friends. yes we havent spoken in months. on some days though... i get really glad that my social circle has reduced to almost nothing. but on some days... i realise that im just not that strong after all. i want to be ok, i want to learn how to be ok. but how do i? how do i come to terms with the fact that either im a girl who turned all her friends away from her bec she thought she was too good for them or that her world too accelerated too quickly to revolve around her boyfriend that now she forgot how having friends ever felt like.

the people whom i thought literally saw me grew up are now too busy mingling amongst themselves and themselves only. they do make the effort to send one text message in 6 months... but the lack of sincerity is more than just apparent. there is 0 effort to even keep the conversation going and no matter how hard i once tried, i cant find it in me to be as giving anymore. 

to my best friend that i lost, im just taking things in my stride. every single day you never fail to exhibit the love you’re constantly being showered with (without me in your life anymore). im happy that you’re in a place where you get to shine in the spotlight given and that your circle of friends has expanded to one that drowns me out. maybe im also too exhausted and found myself to be too demanding for you to fit me anywhere in your life anymore. im just a puzzle piece that was forcing to fit till early this year. maybe now i really am prepared to want to let it all go.

i lost a workplace buddy recently. as much as i know that maybe this is for the better of him, a part of me still wishes we could maintain the same co-worker relationship and we can keep this friendship going. we have too many similarities and interests and it hurts to know that things will never be the same again. i have teared about it but i think one day these feelings are going to come charging at me in full force that it might be too late to calm those emotions down by then.

this quarantine period has also cost me lots of fights in my family. every single day i urge myself to keep the anger down and not get so agitated but i still fail. i disappoint myself time and again. i dont know how to fix this, neither do i see the light at the end of the tunnel for this. the ability to be so fucking patient with the useless beings i deal with at work and the inability of me being tolerant of my closest and most loved ones, appalls me the most. i am the biggest hypocrite i know. i fought with my beloved grandma. i was planning to check in on her but i never did and before i knew, she ended up in the hospital and i found myself sinking in knee-dip into a bottomless pit i knew i was sooner or later, doomed for.

the holy month is about to come to an end and i see people achieving milestones in their life as they close this chapter but this year feels just about the same as another. and i only have myself to blame and hate for it. i could have done so much more. coulda started on the quran, coulda been more consistent, coulda been more committed but i let it all slip in front of me and before i know it, it’s too late to do anything about it anymore. i am my biggest disappointment. i only seek for your forgiveness la Ya Allah.

i have no qualms about the person i call my partner. but having an anxiety attack all bec of him... it has truly been a long while. i wanna blame it on the period. i wanna blame it on the fact that i have too much time and too many emotions too feel, too sensitive. i wanna blame it on his lack of awareness for his surroundings and the people around him. i wanna blame it on his immaturity and ego. but i think we all know, it is ultimately just me. the same issues... over and over again. is it a lack of interest or understanding? i sincerely wonder. i want to work this out, but it gets really hard. sometimes i just want us to stop hurting. how is it that we dont get by a week without fighting? how is it that you still have issues understanding me why i get hurt even after repeatedly explaining myself? how is it that you still talk in a way that annoys the fuck out of me sometimes? i know you dont mean it. but are you really that wrapped up in your head to not notice all these things? everything’s either a fucking joke or too complicated for your brain to even process. i dont wish to make the situation bigger than what it is, but i never felt truly at peace at emptying my emotions to you. when was the last time you were keen about me and my mental health? then again, not everything is about me. and you didnt seem to understand so i backed off. i dont want to find fault in a situation that you dont want to help yourself in. why is that you can bear to part hours of your day to game but not spare 10 minutes of your time to ask me how im feeling lately. or spend 10 minutes of your time looking up what anxiety really is. i tell you im fine and you really think im fucking fine. if that was really all it took to cure my fucking anxiety m8... i’d be bloody Gandhi by now. i want to give all my love to you. but at times i cant even be truly happy for people by my side, sometimes i feel like i still have a lot more to learn before i deserve true happiness in my life. you dont always have the best words to say, but i know you do try. 

i started working out but i still dont like what i see. the more time i spend at home, the less i want to see myself in the mirror. its been 2 weeks and my arms are still so fucking flabby,,, my thighs are gigantic it can choke and the rolls on my tummy makes me nauseous. i pray to God seeking for strength every single day but i still cant find it in me to want to embrace the now me to pursue the version that i eventually want to be. the internet is not making my head a better place but it does remind me that im fat and that i deserve less and less food each day. i dont know why i allowed myself to get this obese but i am truly regretting every second of it. 

in conclusion... am i falling apart? maybe. am i losing myself? maybe. do i have friends? not anymore. and do i hate my s/o constantly reassuring me that i have friends that even i dont know the existence of? maybe. do i hate myself for being a dick to my own family? maybe. do i blame myself for being an incompetent and emotionally worrisome partner? maybe. do i blame myself for having a body as big as mine? maybe. ultimately... am i drowning myself in a bottomless pit of self loathe as i swim in self-pity? hell mother fucking yes.