#in fact get everyone therapy

[lo-om]

If you know, you know

[inkskinned]

what is with men being mad any time a woman raises her voice where did that even come from. someone posted a video of a small electrical explosion, and the top comment was of course the woman screams. the second comment is women try not to scream challenge, level impossible. i had to go back and watch the video again. there is, somewhat fainty, a little gasp emitted off-camera, more of a yelp than a scream. it is mostly lost in the crack of the explosion. afterwards, you hear her voice, shaken, say, are you okay?

i am helping one of my friends train her voice pitch lower, because she wants to be taken seriously at work. she and i do each other's nails and talk about gender roles; and how - due to our appearance - neither of us have ever been able to be "hysterical" in public. we both appear young and sweet and feminine. she is cisgender, and cannot use her natural voice in her profession because people keep saying she appears to be "vapid". we both try to figure out if our purposeful voice lowering is technically sexist. is it promoting something when you are a victim to it?

a storm almost sends a pole through a car window. in the dashcam, you can hear the woman passenger say her partner's name twice, crying out in alarm. she sounds terrified. in the comments, she is lambasted for her lack of calm. how is that even fucking helping?

in high school, i taught myself to have a lower voice. i had been recorded when i was genuinely (and righteously) upset; and i hated how my voice sounded on the phone speakers when it was played back. i was defending my mom, and my voice cracked with emotion. it meant i was no longer winning the argument: i was just shrieking about it.

girls meet each other after a long summer and let out a little joyful scream. this usually stops around 12-14, because people will not tolerate this display of affection (as it has the effect of being passingly annoying). something about the fact that little girls can't ever even be annoying. we are trained to examine each part of our lives (even joy) for anything that could make us upsetting and disgusting. they act like teenage girls are breaking into houses and shrieking you awake at 3 in the morning. speaking as a public school educator: trust me, it's not that bad, you can just roll your eyes and move on. it does not compare to the ways boys end up being annoying: slurs in graffiti, purposefully mocking your body, following you after you said no. you know, just boy things.

there's another video of a man who is not allowed to yell in the house, so he snaps his fingers when he's excited about soccer. the comments are full of angry men, talking about how their brother is unfairly caged. let him express himself and this is terrible to do to someone. eventually the couple has to address it in a second video: they are married with a newborn baby. he was trying not to wake the infant up. there is no comment on the fact women are not allowed to yell indoors. or the fact that it could have been really alarming or triggering for his wife. sometimes i wonder if straight men even like women, if they even enjoy being in relationships with them.

for the longest time, i hated roller coasters because it always felt inappropriate and uncomfortable for me to scream. one of my friends called me on it, said it was unusual i'm so unwilling. i had to go to my therapist about it. i don't like to scream because i was not raised in a safe situation, and raising my voice would have brought unsafe attention towards me. even when i am supposed to scream, it feels shameful, guilty. i was not treated kindly, so i lack a basic form of self-protection. this is not a natural response. it is not good that in a situation of high adrenaline - i shut up about it.

something very bad is happening, i think. in between all the beauty standards and the stuff i've already discussed - this one feels new and cruel in a way i can't quite express. yes, it's scary and silencing. but there's something about how direct it is - that so many men agree with the sentiment that women should never yell, even in an emergency - it feels different.

is the word shriek gendered automatically? how about shrill or screech? in self defense class, one of the first things they tell you is to yell, as loud and as shrilly as you can. they say it will feel rude. most women will not do this. you need to practice overcoming the social pressure and just scream.

most women do not cry out, even when it's bad. we do not report it. we walk faster. we do not make a scene. what would be the point of doing anything else? no matter what we do, we don't get taken seriously. it is a joke to them. an instagram caption punchline. we have to present ourselves as silent, beautiful, captivating - "valuable."

a woman is outside watching her kids when someone throws a firecracker at them. she screams and runs towards her children. in the comments, grown men flock together in the thousands: god. women are so annoying.

[izzystizzys]

When the 212th collaborates with the 501st, chaos is sure to follow in their footsteps. This has been largely true of every engagement since the start of the war, in Cody’s experience. Had he even an ounce more of a rebellious streak, he might question why and whether the success rate is worth the feral instinct for mayhem his battalion and Rex’ awaken in each other - as it is, he simply fills out the after action reports and then screams into his pillow, which is hard as durasteel and doesn’t warrant the name.

Or, on some days, he steps into the training rooms to work off some nervous jitters only for his foot to catch on someone’s armoured shoulder and faceplant straight into what looks like the entirety of both battalions piled together in a massive cuddle pile.

“What”, he manages between gritted teeth, heaving himself up with one hand supported on Crys’ arm and the other planted in places that make Boil jackknife up with a strangled yelp, “the kriff is this?!”

“We’re watching the Corrie Reality Special, sir”, his own voice calls from somewhere across the room. “The 91st is passing by, so we have satellite access to the Coruscant Broadcast network for a few hours, and we couldn’t settle on a specific show -“

“- so we decided to watch them all”, Rex finishes, sheepishly, where he’s fought his way through wiggling piles, hoots and badly imitated monkey lizard noises. The thought that he shares DNA with these degenerates is enough to drive Cody to the brink of a nervous breakdown some days. “Spopcorn?”

Ah. The Corrie Reality Circuit. When Cody first heard of it, he’d thought it was a prank. Then, they were deployed to the middle of bumkriff nowhere on the edges of Midrim space edging on Outer Rim, with a connection so spotty even classified military intel only got through about half the time, and the whole idea got shelved in favour of clankers and keeping his General’s lightsaber in his General’s hand where it belonged.

Now, a gaudy, glittery monstrosity of a logo announcing a Coruscant Rotational special appears on a rigged up screen, which means one of two things: either Fox is pulling the Galaxy’s greatest long con on all of them, or he’s been murdered and replaced with an evil clone (ha!), because there are no circumstances in which he would agree to star on Coruscant Reality TV.

Cody tilts his head consideringly. Rex smiles at him sheepishly. Tilts the spopcorn bowl at him, invitingly.

“Oh, dank farrik, sit your shebs down!”, someone (Fives, probably) yells out, fed-up…ly.

Cody sits his shebs down.

“Good morning and welcome all of Coruscant to the Great Coruscant Rotational Special: Our Boys in Red Edition!”, a bright red Twi’leki man announces on the screen amidst cheerful jizz music and loud hooting from the training room. “My name is Braham Horton, and I will be your exalted host for this fine, fine late night cycle!”

“And now, gentlebeings of the metropolis, I present to you the images that have driven us all to laughter, joy, and even tears at times over these past few weeks - whodathunkit, that the CSF media project would enthrall a whole Galaxy of viewers and cause the largest recorded peaceful civil protest of all time?!”

“The sorry what now”, says Cody, suddenly thinking back to the urgent meeting General Kenobi was currently in with Generals Windu and Yoda - passing by on the Venator in orbit. “Uhm”, says Rex. Braham Horton, unfazed by the commotion he’s causing lightyears away, chatters on.

“- many hours, so we’ve compiled an introductory little best-of for you, exalted viewers! And what better best of to start off on than the hottest entry of the most explosive bombshell into the villa - please give it up for Commander Thorn and how he stole all of our hearts on Love Island!”

A garish, club-tech jingle Cody has so far only heard buzz through the walls of establishments that generally didn’t allow clones thrums through the training room, followed by what can only be described as the sort of noises spiced up banthas might make. Thorn appears on screen, more oiled up and half-naked than Cody remembers, though just as bleach-blond, hair slightly longer than regulation and smile blindingly perfect.

“I’m Commander Thorn, baseline twenty-four years humanoid - during daytime I might be the scourge of Coruscant’s criminal underworld, but at night I don’t mind playing good cop for you!” He punctuates it woth a sleazy wink and fingerblasters that have Rex honest-to-god gagging, and Cody seeing his life flash before his eyes. If Alpha-17 finds out about this…

Suddenly, Thorn’s smile drops in favour of what might almost be called a scowl on even his handsome face, and the music cuts out. “There, got your soundbyte. Can I go back now? I’m supposed to be on shift.” Indistinct, off-screen chatter and a captioned oopsie… appear in a shower of glitter. Thorn’s face does something complicated. “For HOW MANY MONTHS?!”

Cut to a montage of what Cody can only describe as beaches, oil and abs galore, Braham Horton narrates and extremely close-up shot of what Cody tries very hard not to identify as Thorn’s crotch. His own crotch, in a way. Oh no, that’s weird, stop that train of thought immediately-

“Although our favourite bombshell’s entry into the villa wasn’t without its hitches and hurdles-“, emphasized by a zoom-in on Thorn’s form in a speedo huddled away from a partying crowd of softcore-kriffing contestants on a yacht, “- as well as all know, he would soon find his place in the villa - or places, rather!”

Two crying humanoid women appear on screen, with eyeliner smudges down to their knees. A hoot goes through the room. Cody watches with a sense of impeding doom. “You slept with her after I chose to match up with you instead of Chad?! How could you!”

Thorn, still oiled up with both blasters out for the world to see, winces. “I didn’t me-“

A hysterical gasp, a camera swerve. Three more people stand by the doorway, all clutching their chests with wide eyes. A broad, green Twi’leki man raises a finger to point accusingly. “You were sleeping with them too?! I thought I was the only one!”

“Dear Force”, Cody murmurs, unable to look away from the building speeder wreck on screen. Braham Horton laughs good-naturedly at his misery. “Ah, good times! And who could forget the all-out brawl of the following matching night, where a record number of every single other contestant attempted to physically fight the others for the right to match up with Commander Thorn! Including a somehow returned Chad, who nearly won thanks to the element of surprise. I wish we could show the footage, but then we’d have to slap several warnings on it and probably still get taken off the air.”

“I didn’t know Corries kriffed like that!”, someone (Fives, let’s be honest, it was definitely Fives) calls out into the room, receiving snickers and a well-aimed pillow to the throat for his trouble. He goes down with a choking scream.

“Someone who was less impressed by the hot’n bothered beach weather was Commander Thire, who found himself Less than Impressed by his co-contestants inability to keep it in their pants on Too Hot To Handle!”

Thire’s face, identical to Thorn’s in every way except the ones that matter, appears on screen. His black hair is cut in a cropped mohawk, arms folded over a button-up he’s carefully pieced together with… safety pins? Where are the buttons on it?

“These people are pathological and pathetic and I will spend not a second longer on this farce of an attempt at ‘entertainment show’”, says Thire, air-quotes so sharp they could cut stone. His scowl might be permanently etched into his face, Cody can’t tell. “Unlike literally everyone else, I have an actual job to do. Now move.”

A brief pause, in which cheerful jizz music plays over what is obviously a producer begging off-camera, followed by an eyeroll so hard it hurts Cody’s brain to watch. Thire throws his hands into the air in defeat, marching off into the sea behind him still fully clothed.

“When they didn’t find him until the last episode, I’ll admit, I thought he’d died too!”, Braham Horton cuts in cheerfully. “But would you look at his little lonely island lair - now that’s a fulfilled man, and too many coconuts for my taste! We’ve had to blur his hands out as he discovered the cameras just moments before these holos were taken, unfortunately. And, dear viewer, who could forget this exit-interview for the ages!”

A considerably more clothed Thire appears on screen, eyeing a microphone like he’s about to use it to stab out his own eyes. The reporter clears their throat in audible anxiety. “C-commander, how would you describe your reality experience in one word?”

“Demeaning”, says Thire, blandly.

Silence.

“Um, o-okay”, squeaks the reporter.

“Would you like some more words?”, asks a dead-eyed Thire.

“No, um, I think - I think we’re alright.”

“Because I have many words. Mostly for whoever the *bleep* thought this was a *bleep* good idea, and *bleeeeeeee-*”

“We’ve had to censor most of the Commander’s on-screen appearance, dear viewer, for your sensibilities”, says Braham Horton, eternally and painfully cheerful. “And speaking of sensibilities, who could forget Commander Stone honouring his name in several challenges on ‘I’m A Holostar - Get Me Out Of Here!’”

Soulful violin music fills the gym, overlaid with images of a bald vod Cody surmises must be Stone. Stone stares stonily into the void, glass of bright green something raised to his lips and already half-empty.

“Memorably, he downed a pint of acklay urine within seconds-“

Horrified screams are followed by an image of Stone chewing, yet another thousand-klick stare.

“- or when he ate Tauntaun anus -“

Rex doubles over gagging, and Cody slowly puts his handful of Spopcorn back down.

“- of course the ten minute worm-bath challenge cannot go unmentioned -“

“FORCE PLEASE NO!”, screams someone (Echo) tearfully. Commander Stone, buried to the chin in wiggling orange worms, looks less impressed.

“ - and who could forget his encounter with a horde of ginntho spiders and nests of vexis snakes!”

A remote goes sailing past the screen, missing by a mile, as images of Stone with his whole arm stuck in various boxes fly past. Someone is retching. It might be Cody.

“We would show the infamous butchery challenge wherein the Commander found himself drenched in nexu guts and sandworm brains, but once again, this is family friendly programming and we are not allowed. Nevertheless, a win well-deserved. And now, please welcome the one, the only, the awe-inspiring, the unbelievable: Marshall Commander Fox!”

Another Force-awful jingle, big, blocky letters, and Cody chokes on his own spit when Fox’s scowling face appears on screen. He’s thinner, greyer and angrier than the last time they saw eachother in person. Only the last one is really a surprise.

“I am neither naked nor afraid”, says Fox, arms crossed firmly, foot tapping impatiently on the ground. “I am, however, quickly losing my patience. Explain to me again the point of spending my valuable time undressing in the middle of bum-*bleep* nowhere on the Midrim instead of doing my job as the head of planetary security in the middle of a Galaxy-wide war?”

Several beats of silence follow. Fox grows less impressed with each. Cody knows that look well. Usually, it precedes handcuffs and a cold sonic blast to the face.

“Um… you signed a contract?”, says a producer’s voice uncertainly off-screen. Fox barks out a harsh laugh. “I’m legally classified as military property, my signature holds less weight than if I’d had one of the Guard’s massiffs shit on that contract for me.”

“Ouch!”, calls Crys.

“Gettim!”, adds Longshot.

“But… don’t you sign off military documents all the time for the Senate?”, sputters the producer.

Fox smiles with far to many teeth. It’s also a look Cody knows far too well, and even lightyears away it has a shudder going down his spine.

“Really makes you think about the technicalities of that definitely-not-slave-army, doesn’t it?”, he says, dryly.

“Although considerably less naked and afraid than all other contestants, Commander Fox left us with many memorable moments - such as when he saved the entire crew from an angry Acklay!”

Most of the next holovid is blurred out, though Cody can (unfortunately) guess at the why and how. So can most everyone else, judging by the collective groan.

“Down, boy”, says Fox, flatly, to a hissing Acklay twice his size. It rears its fanged head, and a shudder goes through the room. Fox simply crosses his arms and nails the beast with an unimpressed look. “You are making a fool of both of us. Cut it out.”

Chastised, the Acklay blinks at him, slowly lowering itself back down with a confused hiss.

“No kriffing wonder all the Corrie shinies are such hardasses”, mutters Rex, whom Cody is hard pressed to agree with. “I came from a tube and that look gave me daddy issues.”

“Yes, dear viewer, who could forget these heart-warming moments of good, quality television!”, sighs Braham Horton, dreamily. “Not Coruscant anytime soon, that’s for sure! We are now entering the twentieth rotation of the sit-in protest of a petition to allow the Commanders of the Coruscant Guard to compete on Dancing With The Planets, Coruscant Rotational’s epic dance competition!”

“Dear bum-kriffing Force”, whispers Rex, wide-eyed and awe-struck. “Does Fox know about this?!”

Cody, who’s already dialing the kriffer’s comm-code, wipes a singular tear from his eye. “Not a clue, but kriff, am I going to enjoy telling him.”

[justaz]

thinking about immortal merlin going to a super famous artist who is known for having super lifelike paintings a few hundred years after arthur dies and telling them their story and having the artist paint arthur just by merlin’s descriptions instead of by a recreation with his magic and just reliving his life in camelot mentally while sitting on this artists couch as they bring arthur back to life for merlin

[atopvisenyashill]

it is sometimes actually emotionally painful to get quotes about lyanna and elia, sometimes i really feel like george is hiding a sibling that died when he was a kid because he writes the way that specific grief of being an older sibling who loses a younger sibling when one or both of you are also incredibly young so well, too well. this is why i'm nervous for twow because i just KNOW we are going to get some crazyyyyyy sad passages not just about elia and lyanna but likely from the lannister trio, the starklings, the sand snakes, maybe even from tommen or myrcella and i'm like I CAN'T FUCKING TAKE THIS SHIT MAN.

[silentstaresfanficandfanart]

HALCYON IS DONE BEING WRITTEN! I WROTE MY THIRD? BOOK LETS GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1

THE HEROES HAVE HEROED

CIERO HAS CIEREOD

AND EVERYONES GOING TO THERAPY! LETS GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1

[aroaessidhe]

2023 reads

The Deep Sky

scifi mystery thriller

on a deep space mission traveling from an environmentally devastated earth with hope to restart humanity elsewhere

when they’re halfway, an explosion kills 3 crew and pushes them off course

the only witness is the Alternate who has no specific role, and she has to figure out who caused it & if they might continue to sabotage, while they're figuring out a way to get back on course with limited resources

flips between present and the past: of her childhood and training for the mission, her identity struggles, and relationship with her mother

questions the ethics of ‘restarting’ humanity elsewhere vs putting resources into fixing earth

[tangents-within-tangents]

Would that there was a faithful, accurate adaptation of Dracula so that Jonathan Decker and Alan Seawright could discuss the nontoxic masculinity, healthy friendships, and the BEST MARRIAGE RELATIONSHIP IN FICTIONAL HISTORY but nooo!

[bogkeep]

first week back at school and ahhhhhh everything is a little overwhelming currently

- my living space is full of boxes i have simply not had the energy to unpack at all.... hopefully this weekend (but i have also been invited to a Social Event so WE SHALL SEE)

- this school year is going to have So Much Important Stuff happening inbetween the many weeks of practice placement

- such as The Academic Text

- AND i need to finish the big project i was supposed to have finished ages ago

- our teacher this year speaks swedish with a very thick french accent and i speak norwegian with a dialect, we really struggle to understand one another but maybe hopefully that will change over time.... please...........

- i'm stressed about Stupid Bureaucracy Stuff

- and im so so sleepytired :(((

- and it's too humid and warm for comfort :(((((

AT LEAST I HAVE CUTE SOCKS

purchased in a distraught jetlag haze and subsidized by my travel insurance. they're my favourites now

[kazz-brekker]

i find it very funny that no one on hannibal has acknowledged this is a ridiculous distance to drive for a therapy session

[anxiously-sidequesting]

I know we as a fandom all love to shit on Duncan whenever we get the chance (see: me posting Duncan GruncanWuncan) especially since the like, two times we ever see him he's shitting on us for being ourselves then tries to kill us because of his own delusions of grandeur but I thought about it and I was like, "......man that's kinda Sad actually"

BECAUSE seeing this from Duncan's perspective; he's The Best, he always has been the best, but reality constantly shows him that isn't true (Malorn, The Wizard, anyone else)

Like imagine how painful that can be when you think something that you truly deserved and something that you've fought for, maybe for your entire life, is seemingly handed to others who aren't nearly as deserving as you

And yeah WE know that Duncan has neither worked (very hard, at least) for his perceived greatness NOR does he truly """deserve""" it (Duncan has been shown to be shirking his duties off to us and possibly others for his own gain), but DUNCAN doesn't know this. Like in his mind he truly, honestly, genuinely believes with his whole fragile heart that he is just above everyone else and puts more effort in trying to convince others of that rather than literally just trying to work towards that himself

And then there's the extra added insult that even in his own class he's pretty mediocre. Duncan INSISTS that he was Malistaire's best student and that he praised Duncan maybe once and that all other Death students only wish they could be like him, but... Malorn. And I bet deep down Duncan KNOWS that in fact Malorn was Malistaire's best and most talented. And Duncan can't even really twist that in his mind because it was made solid when Malorn took over Malistaire's duties instead of him. It was proven as a hard fact that Malorn was more suited to the job than Duncan was and is widely recognized as being The Best Death student (if the YW isn't a Necromancer)

Okay so fine. Whatever it's just Death right? At least Duncan can be the best at ANYTHING ELSE, maybe he's not the most talented Necromancer but there's 6 more types of magic to excel in!!!

But then another person ruins that. The Young Wizard poofs in from another world and suddenly, Duncan is overshadowed once more because a literal child prodigy and Local Hero arrives and literally saves their world and then, the universe. Multiple times in fact

Like bro I can imagine that could be at least a little bit painful for anyone, but imagine with Duncan's already low self-esteem and his fragile, large ego, he literally and genuinely took that personally and a hit to your pride is devastating for anyone, no matter who you are. That was like, Strike Three for Duncan and it was so very personal and important to him that it left him in a deep and vulnerable state

But I think the absolute saddest part of Duncan's downfall is that near the end, he was ultimately manipulated by an adult. A grown ass adult noticed and acknowledged his insecurities and purposely struck where it hurts the most, in his weakest state. Duncan already wasn't thinking clearly from the start but when everything went to shit for him and he was clinging, Gretta DarkKettle approached him and completely broke him down to make him into something else entirely for the Schism's benefit.

Of course Duncan was a piece of shit from the start but he truly didn't have any malicious intentions until Gretta messed with his mind. Like, he went from a pretty much harmless bully to an actual criminal of the state and a threat to the literal universe. Duncan was CORRUPTED and all of his worst fears and delusions were solidified the moment Gretta """validated""" those feelings Duncan had.

Is Duncan completely blameless? Fuck no he did some fucked up shit actually and I'm glad he was held accountable for it by the narrative and the fandom!!! But I think it's something to be said that at the end of the day, Duncan was still a child that was suffering from many type of issues before being recruited and manipulated by a powerful literal cult. Wizard101 does have a theme of malicious intending and less than responsible adults using children to get what they want (Malistaire, Morganthe's brother, GF Spider, GM Raven, coughcoughAmbrose) but unlike the Young Wizard who successfully stays true to themselves despite that, Duncan had a more Morganthe-like route and ultimately succumbed to it. Of course their situations are a lot different since the YW wasn't brought in by a cult, but you can't help but feel bad for someone so young being preyed on by older people who are supposed to look out for them and protect them from something just LIKE that.

I will always shit on Duncan because it's funny and hold him accountable for his actions because he should, but I also feel bad for him and I hope he had a better ending after he was defeated

[potatochip-oc-dump]

i keep dropping little tidbits of marks backstory... one day i will spit it all out on some google doc or somethin

little mark + moose mom, mom who is moose

[lestatslestits]

I am happening very fast and very slow and i am very tired and very awake and very dissociated and very zeroed in and it’s a lot!!!

[lordmushroomkat]

Anyway I have purged my queue of Ace Attorney (I posted it all, enjoy the the massive wall of nonsense from me.) So now it's just miscellaneous and then The New Brainrot.

There's already an image of one of these clowns on here so enjoy that.

But anyway... It's Vanitas Time.

I am unhinged about all of the characters but I am becoming absolutely unwell about the titular Vanitas himself.

He's an asshole and I like him so much.

He's unhinged. He's so disingenuous and so repressed but he's so bad at keeping his feelings in. I swear sometimes he's just dissociating in the middle of a conversation.

He's a bastard and a bitch. He hates both vampires and humans for their cruelty but not nearly as much as he hates himself.

He has completely given up on life and is sustaining himself purely on spite and guilt. He makes people hate him on purpose.

He is kind but not nice. He is the embodiment of that cat knife meme, you know the one. He is babygirl and pathetic little meow meow. I want to send him to therapy.*

His vibes are constructed entirely out of red flags. He's a bisexual man that you want to keep 20 feet away from all women at all times because geeeeez my guy learn to behave yourself. He's a sarcastic prick. He's incomprehensibly traumatized.

I want to run him over with a freight train. I want to wrap him up in a homemade quilt and give him a cup of hot cocoa. I want someone to hold him tenderly. I want that twink obliterated (gayly).

He looks and acts like a feral alley cat. His outfit is simultaneously iconic and absurd. I think he stole someone's gender. He wears gloves with claws on them.

He is terrified of genuine connection yet he craves intimacy so badly. He is a massive pile of trust issues.

He is doomed by the narrative, he is running out of time, he is destroying himself through every step of his objective. He knows he will likely destroy himself before he can ever succeed. He is terrified of losing his humanity. He calls his objective vengeance but I'm pretty sure it's actually absolution.

There is something very very wrong with him.💖💜💙

*(I want to send all of these characters to therapy.)

[kal-thas]

guys when the disability is disabling 👎

[lesenbyan]

sometimes I look at my handwriting and can really actually Tell I was taken out of class in the Early Elementary Years to relearn how to write bc no one could read my shit.