#ive been writing this for the past hour i skipped lunch for this

[phoenixfangs]

(to preface, for this post im going to use trans rep as my primary discussion example but i think this line of thought could be applied to basically any marginalized group)

honestly regarding that last reblog and the essay i left in the tags, i dont want to hear anyone praising anything for ‘good representation’ or condemning anything for ‘bad representation’ ever again i think.

firstly because people are so braindead that they cant meaningfully identify either good or bad representation. everything that i like is good and everything that i dont is bad. anything created by any trans person is good and anything created by any cis person is bad. everything that is kind and saccharine is good and everything that is angry and miserable is bad.

(seriously if i have to see one more take thats like ‘media that centers around trans suffering is bad and harmful because i dont like it and it makes me uncomfortable it turns trans suffering into a profitable spectacle, and besides being trans can be a good thing actually its not all about pain’, im going to bite somebody. im sorry that a) u dont understand that sometimes the intent of the media or stories like that is to hurt u and make u uncomfortable, b) u dont understand that someone expressing the pain they felt Because they are trans, and that they wouldnt have felt if they werent trans, is a valid form of art and self expression, and u have no right to condemn them because u dont personally connect with it, c) u dont understand that media doing the bare minimum of including a trans character who isnt hatecrimed against isnt ‘celebrating transness’ and can absolutely also be turning trans pride into a profitable spectacle, and d) that ur making all of this my fucking problem. it is not bad or morally incorrect to connect with and represent pain, especially at the hands of bigotry. my god.)

secondly because arguably it will never fucking matter anyway until society at large comes to terms with and moves past whatever -phobia or -ism we decide to center the discussion on that week.

‘good’ trans rep is never going to change a bigots mind or heart because their problem isnt that they just havent learned the error of their ways: their problem is that they hate an entire group of people on the basis that this group of people threatens their status as majority, moral correctness/worthiness, controller, group in power, whatever—whether this is materially true or a paranoid delusion. likewise, ‘good’ trans rep is never going to be enough for trans people to feel validated because of the way society has been marginalizing and oppressing trans people for longer than most of us here have even been alive, and continues to do so. it will feel nice in the moment, to see that people outside of urself and maybe even outside of ur marginalized group dont think of u as subhuman waste, but that feeling will not last forever as long as hate crimes and bigoted policy keep getting real life trans people hurt, jailed, and/or killed. idk about anyone else but nowadays its incredibly difficult for me to feel anything but contempt, dread, numbness, looking at ‘good’ trans rep while all that stuff is still happening on the daily in real life. its like a pathetic consolation prize for putting up with the horrors of existing, ‘thank u for buying our product despite what feels like most people wishing u were dead, heres this cool sticker to acknowledge ur existence and ur status as one of the ones who doesnt Deserve to be dead because ur buying our product’.

‘bad’ trans rep is never going to push an indecisive person over the fence into blatant transphobia because, to a bigot, ANY trans rep in ANYTHING for ANY REASON is ‘bad rep’. childrens books with the softest, cleanest language possible to describe trans experiences are treated like manifestos written to radicalize our good pure innocent children into horrible sexually depraved monsters. drag queens and trans people interacting with children AT ALL are demonized and called pedophiles just for existing in the same space as children. hospitals that provide safe and necessary treatment to trans people as ONE of the services they provide are issued bomb threats for daring to care about peoples health. the HINT of anything to do with being trans is a call for outrage. yeah, that transphobic caricature in that tv show really sucks to see, but its not turning people into transphobes: it is broadcasting the already material reality that transphobes think of us as subhuman waste, deserving of ridicule At Best and total extinction At Worst. a person who becomes a vocal bigot after being exposed to ‘bad’ rep wasnt an ally before that changed their mind, they were just quiet. what is the point of ‘educating’ people how to spot ‘bad’ rep and call it out if all it does is reaffirm to us that we know how to spot it and condemn? how many transphobes have said ‘i thought trans people were demons and pedophiles for the longest time, but then a random tumblr user wrote a scathing review of this random trans character and how they were a totally unrealistic and nasty depiction of a trans person, and it just opened my eyes to the fact that trans people are actually people, turns out’? when that number is larger than the number of transphobes who have said ‘i didnt really know what to think of trans people before tucker carlson and matt walsh told me they were molesting our childrens minds, but now i know theyre a threat to society’, get back with me.

like. im so fucking tired at this point. im obviously very angry and passionate about this, but im tired too. im tired of people constantly trying to say that society is getting better, trans people are becoming more welcomed in society, because of the handful of trans characters in media and the pride shirts and mugs and shit that u can buy in chain stores, while literal atrocities happen every. fucking. day. i cant be okay or happy with ‘good’ trans rep anymore because it matters so little in the context of how people on the whole view trans people, and i cant be upset with ‘bad’ trans rep anymore because its a symptom of hate and ignorance, not the cause.

i reiterate.

society and corporations are selling us pride through hollow ‘representation’ in media and slogans on mugs for the express purpose of keeping us from fighting to FEEL pride. and all the glorious spotless squeaky morally clean rep in the world will not account for the absolute loathing i have felt from every other direction for years, and the loathing everyone else has felt for decades, and the loathing were all gonna continue feeling for god knows how much longer until people and politicians stop actively trying to criminalize and kill us.

[edgarrallannhoe]

7-08-024 man, i fucked up.

today,tomorrow,to…

Ive been vomiting for the past 24+ hours now. i like to say “hahah i’m vomiting SO MUCH but idk why..” i know why. Rome makes me sick, rome makes me want to relapse, rome allows me to relapse. I know it’s no rome’s fault here, i wish it was. I wish all of this was anyone else fault but mine, but here we are, with all the faults in the world i guess.

i have to say tho, among all of the european capitals, rome is the least chic one by a mile.

Yesterday a bought me some Ketamine. I have a complicated relationship with K since the first time i tried it almost twelve-thirteen years ago and not knowing how to use it i just decided to open the bag and snort the whole thing in one line. Bad idea, i spent the night hugging the service toilet at my highschool with a friend making fun of me during the whole thing. Then after that day, i snubbed it at practically every occasion i had, i just wasn’t interested in that devilish thing again, and now, since a few years i’m again at it. I don’t want to talk about this tho, kinda boring, kinda useless.

8-08-024 somebody save me from myself

the purge

i tried to force myself to post, but i started writing then said “fuck it, why should anybody care?” then said “BuT IM DoInG tHIs FoR MySeLf sO whY dOeS it maTTeR if people enjoy it?” and then again “i’m lying as usual, few are the things i do where i’m not concerned about how i will be perceived, social media isn’t one of them.” so i’m here now, less whiny than the other day, but more sick.

I keep vomiting, crying, then trying to drink lil sips of water then vomiting again the same water i just drank. Atp this night i felt like a dry prune, without water, without anything substantial in me, wrinkled and all, i was literally crying hugging my garbage bin: i want to note that the garbage bin is literally kinda a wicker basket, so lot of holes and whatnot. I said to my dad, that because of my “puking problem” maybe we should pick a new one that doesn’t make everything messier every time this happens, and he bought another bin…. a DRILLED metallic one, so now i have a little drilled bin inside a wicker basket, a nightmare every time, now i have to also clean them after i’m finished!

i don’t think i have an ED, or at least not in the way it is usually explained. Ive always been skinny and kinda minature, and always ate whatever, but i have to admit that while once i believed ( and sometimes said myself ) the whole “i eat whatever and whenever and i stay sKiNNnYyYyYy” , i know understand this whole thing better. While i have a fast metabolism and a skinny/petite corporature, and it’s true that sometimes i eat McDonald’s four days in a row, i don’t put weight on cause i eat nothing during the whole day tho. like, i wake up and drink latte macchiato ( idk outside Italy what Latte Macchiato is, here is just like 1/4 coffee and 3/4 milk with maybe a lil sugar ), then mid morning i drink Latte macchiato, then i skip lunch, then in the afternoon you guess it! Latte macchiato! ( if it’s summer sometimes it gets changed with a cold Cola in the glass bottle, love it ), and THEN i eat McDonald’s. But if you consider the fact that i’m pretty active as a person , always moving even if i’m home in bed, and that i only drink coffee and milk the whole day, it’s not weird not gaining weight if you have a crispy mcBacon for dinner 4 nights straight.

So yeah, i think that whole “eat a lot don’t put on weight” it’s a little bit of a fairytale, but i’m sure that there is always a girl swearing that for them is exactly like that. Good for you Veronica.

Sometimes is also happens, that because i don’t really eat during the day, i end up having less hunger than if i ate ( i always ate slay✨), and then the hunger makes me nauseous, so then i vomit but i vomit absolutely nothing but slimish green bile, and then i am even more “hungry”- the problem is that i’m not, even when i am atp, i’m not hungry, i feel nauseous and i know that it’s because i need to eat, but i would rather not- it becomes a cycle, and every time is exhausting, this night i felt like i just wanted to die. I just wanted to be put off of this misery. Now it’s kinda better, kinda, rn here is 12AM, i woke up at three AM to, you guess it, vomit and it went on until almost two hours ago, i feel like shit.

I bought a watermelon at the store/supermarket, there is a real market near the store with better watermelons but i don’t want to enter that lively place, vade retro lol, so i’m okay with a watery and less red watermelon. i’m now eating in very small bites a small pizza no topping and all, but i’m far from feeling fine.

ok ill stop writing for now, IM DYIIIIING- i wish i was - aaaaaaaaaghhh somebody save me fucking please

xx emma

[spicysoftsweet]

A Very Important Episode starring Hisoka

Or the one where Hisoka learns Bungee Gum is not a food group.

A/N: We all know that Hisoka likes candy and Bungee Gum but we would like to encourage Hisoka to make healthier choices and prevent diabetes complications. There will possibly be a part 2. I hope this is educational.

---

This time Hisoka had actually done it. He’d actually managed to fuck up his entire body beyond what he could repair with Bungee Gum or Machi’s services - which she was charging higher and higher for - and now he was somewhere almost unthinkable - an emergency room.

“Illumi~~~~” he half-sang, half-whined now that he was finally lucid, after undergoing an exploratory laparotomy to stabilize his profuse internal bleeding - the surgeons had been in awe of just how much of his body had been purely synthetic due to Texture Surprise exclaiming that he’d be an incredible case to write up - and being amped up full of pain meds. He probably didn’t need the pain meds, but it was fun to go in and out of consciousness; he couldn’t remember the last time he had an actual night of sleep.

His unwilling friend sat at the side of his hospital bed, legs crossed and focusing his jarringly large, black eyes at the fluid and blood that was being transfused into him by IV drip. A small part of him was surprised that Hisoka could be transfused with regular looking blood and regular looking fluid. He was almost sure that he was made up purely of nonsense and Bungee Gum.

“Illumi~” Hisoka moaned dramatically a second time. His gaze slid now to him, with lips pressed into a flat line of distaste.

“Don’t ever use my name as your emergency contact again.”

Illumi had to hide the fact that he was impressed Hisoka could spell clearly enough to make out the letters of his name and had actually retained his phone number. He had been surprised to get a call, but made his way over as soon as he had finished gutting an enemy and stringing them up for display as requested in his latest contract. The idea of Hisoka being dead was incredibly alarming, for he did enjoy his health and company, but also sparked a morbid curiosity in him. Could Hisoka actually die?

“But you came, didn’t you?” Hisoka teased, with a shit-eating grin.

He had him there.

There was a soft knocking on the door, and a young woman in a white coat, followed by a taller man wearing a pair of scrubs came in. The young woman glanced at Hisoka and then Illumi, visibly wincing at the hard stare of the latter in the semi-dark room, then raised her badge to introduce herself. 

“H-hello, I’m Dr. Rhgyl, I-” her eyes flickered to Illumi briefly, unsettled by the fact that he hadn’t yet blinked in the past two minutes, then shifted back to Hisoka, whose devilish smile was almost more unsettling. “I was one of your surgeons and am here to answer any questions you have.”

She turned to Illumi, and gave a nervous nod of the head. “And who is in the room with you, Mr. Morow?”

“My husband,” he said, in a sickly-sweet voice. Illumi gave him a glare, then crossed his arms.

“Sure,” was all he said.

Sure, what? What is sure? Just answer the damn question... The poor young doctor’s face fell as she already knew this was something she’d have to spend unnecessary minutes during her already excessively long call night clarifying in her documentation. She turned to her nurse behind her, who gave her a small shrug. 

“So uh, Mr. Morow, how is your pain?”

“It’s wonderful!”

The doctor again tried to conceal her internal screaming, and continued to keep her professional smile plastered on her face. “In that case, please let us know if you have any more pain, and your nurse will take care of it.”

“We do have one other issue, however, “ she added, making sure to communicate this next part as clearly and effectively as possible. Hisoka perked up in surprise, and Illumi continued to sit perfectly still, as still as a statue. “Your blood sugar. Your blood sugar was extremely elevated, and we were concerned about a diagnosis of prediabetes or diabetes.”

“Diabetes?”

“We expect you to make a fast recovery… surprisingly fast in fact, but we would still like you to follow up with a primary care doctor about your blood sugar. We’ll draw a lab test to check how your sugars were for the past 3 months, called a Hemoglobin A1c test, and then we’ll have your primary care doctor follow up the results and help you with strategies to have better control.”

Illumi turned to Hisoka, who he could tell that whatever the medical team was telling him was going in one ear and out the other, and he was now only thinking about either his next fight or Bungee Gum based on the elated smile on his face.

Bungee Gum.

Bungee Gum was the fucking problem. 

As the doctor and the nurse finally exited out of the room and Hisoka went back to telling Illumi battle stories, Illumi started to clear his schedule in his head, to figure out when he could best drag Hisoka to his follow-up appointments, which he would have to make for him. Someone had to be the adult in this relationship. 

---

Hisoka’s new primary care doctor, another similarly young woman, but less easily intimidated as the tired one from the hospital sat at a computer, pulling up his chart to review his lab results from his hospitalization.

Illumi and Hisoka noticed how she visibly paled as she scrolled, then turned to Hisoka and gave him a reassuring smile, that looked to reassure her more than them. 

“What is it? Am I dead?” Hisoka asked. Illumi gave him a look to quiet down.

“Well, you’re diabetic, all right... Your A1c is 14%.”

“Is that bad?”

She swiveled in her chair to face him, hands in her lap. 

“Well, diabetes is diagnosed at an A1c of 7%. So... unfortunately,  yes.”

Hisoka started counting on his fingers and Illumi forcefully put his hand down.

“Hisoka, listen to the doctor. Diabetes is serious. My great-grandaunt was diabetic.” Illumi said in an even, impassive voice.

“Oh, how old was she when she was diagnosed?” The doctor asked, attempting to build rapport with the patient and the patient’s loved ones.

Without skipping a beat, he replied, “206, exactly. She loved nothing more than to unwind with Mountain Dew after her assassination missions. She ended up on dialysis.” 

The doctor seemed to be at a loss of words briefly, so she turned back to Hisoka, pulling out a pen and a notepad to focus on rather than lose her cool. 

“So, uh… let’s start by talking a little about what you usually eat,” she began. “What do you eat in a typical day?”

“Hm... “ Hisoka didn’t usually keep track of what he ate, so it took him some time to come up with an account. “Ah! Okay, so in the morning, I usually skip breakfast, but sometimes I’ll have some Bungee Gum.”

Odd choice, the physician thought, but she nodded and wrote that down, allowing the floor to Hisoka to speak.

“For lunch, I try not to eat too much, but I also have a couple pieces or ten of Bungee Gum.”

Hm…

“Oh and for dinner, I have a bowl of gummy candy if I’m feeling particularly peckish and also Bungee Gum.”

She looked up from her pad and paper to see Hisoka looking blissfully unaware that he had just revealed that he subsists solely on sweets. She suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to pull at her hair repeatedly. This would be a ton of education, and she still wasn’t exactly sure what exactly Bungee Gum was.

---

Illumi parked his custom Ferrari minivan, purchased entirely for this shopping trip, outside the Costco Wholesale, and gave Hisoka, a long, hard look. 

“Do you have the list?” Illumi asked, hand outstretched as Hisoka handed over a partially crumpled sheet of paper, outlining the basics of a balanced, carbohydrate-controlled diet for people with diabetes.

Hisoka looked outside to the large building, then looked back at Illumi. “Isn’t this for families? I thought we were shopping for me only, and sometimes you when you come over.”

“I don’t know, the butlers told me that they come here to stock the kitchens. It seems from the website that this store provides high quality bulk goods for very competitive prices so this will be an appropriate next stop.”

This was just one out of countless stops today - Hisoka had spent the earlier part of the day searching frantically for sugar-free Bungee Gum in every supermarket in a 25-mile radius unsuccessfully, and demanding to see the manager every time, only to kill them when they told him they didn’t have his particular brand. Illumi warned him that there would be no such shenanigans any longer.

They stepped out of the car and walked right past the door greeter who was waiting eagerly for them to present their membership card only to recoil once they both turned to look at him in unison with intent to kill. 

The first things Hisoka noticed as he walked in were the multiple little free sample kiosks at the aisles every so often and curiously wandered over to them. 

“Make sure to avoid anything glazed or with a sauce,” Illumi called after him, poring through the list as he wandered over to the produce aisle. He didn’t understand the draw of free samples; if he wanted to try something, he would simply buy it.

Hisoka made his way to Illumi and Illumi’s overfilled grocery cart about a half-hour later after wandering the entire store, arms filled with small paper cups and tasting spoons. It was clear that he had sampled literally everything, possibly twice or thrice. Illumi let out a sigh and moved to the front of the store to check out. 

Keeping Hisoka’s blood sugar low would be a daunting task, but he was determined that by the next visit to his PCP, he’d have some improvement in his A1c. Texture Surprise can only replace so many amputated limbs at once. He’d just have to buy every supermarket’s supply of Bungee Gum and possibly halt every single production chain devoted to it or something similar. A pain, but it was worth it. Hisoka was annoying as all hell, but still, he was worth it.

[shiro-0197]

Oh I see 😭😭 but that's so cool, you'll be a graduate by then!! Do you have a graduation party, or something like that? For when you graduate? Yes istg they have no chill whatsoever 😬 but I can't wait to go back and see my friends :) just the exam part that bothers me ugh.

you're right! And honestly, as long as you're enjoying yourself, it's worth every second. I wish you all the best, love.

you're right tho hhhh everyone is different 😣😣 what works for one may not work for another, but I think if you're earnest about it, no one is going to think you're a bad teacher. That'd be great. Tips on how to deal with people, and teach, right? If only there were classes on that xD

you're cuter than koalas tho💖💖💖🐨 and oh yes. I've taken to finding it on Twitter but it hasn't popped up. I hope it does.

Headbutt? He's so flustered ekdhwkkssk 😭😭😭💖 cute.

Omigosh yesss that's another thing you like. I can't believe I didn't write that alongside cheese haha >.< but ugh instant ramen is just wonderful. It's so spicy, but so wonderful!!

awww understandable. I low-key feel like skipping school on the days when I don't eat. But gotta go nonetheless. Or Angel might kill me. 😭😭 If I don't come without telling her, she calls me at 6.50 in the morning to find out why. Gotta love friends like that skhdksks 😭😭 but yeah!! I googled it yesterday and that came up somewhere on Google? Wait a sec, let me copy paste it: It consists of meat, rice, and fried vegetables placed in a pot which is flipped upside down when served, hence the name maqluba, which translates literally as "upside-down."

yasss nice :D pls do!! And oh skjdskjsk 😭😭 I wish we had some in common but I'm literally in none of those fandoms grrrr I've always been so bad at video games +_+ my old fandoms were mostly books (like the whole Percy Jackson series, and everything the author had written), Harry Potter, the mortal instruments, etc. Hamilton (the musical), and of course, Voltron, She-Ra, and Avatar (the last airbender. Not the blue people xD). I wish you luck if you do plan on catching up with them!! That's what I'm doing now, so I'm taking a break from anime >.< And don't worry! I'm sure you'll be able to relive your childhood and buy those video games soon. It might be fun to play them, when you couldn't as a kid.

Aww that sounds lovely I hope you had fun!! What'd you have??

yes it was well deserved. I didn't get much done today but I'm well rested for tomorrow. (Finished the latest season of money heist too. It's so good ughhhh) have you been sleeping okay tho?

The meeting went okay. I met with the other tutors and we decided on dates and times for us to hold our sessions. Mine's on the 14th, in the afternoon, after lunch, and I'll have 1 and a half hours to teach however I wish. I'm racking my brains for a lesson plan now, because I've never tutored people my age xD so I hope it'll be alright. that sounds so cool! Anything with anonymity in it is fun, in my opinion. I hope your classmates come up with some real cool stuff :D

and ah, Cookie you have my heart 😭I love you too.

— 😺💖

Yeah we do!! Though this year will probably be a class only party, if we even get to have a party XD yeah, my friends are really the best thing to get out of school. I wouldnt have any otherwise😭

Yeah!!! I'd really just rather die if I went to work as a cashier, or a waiter... not because the jobs are bad but because I have to speak? Say something? AND memorize the prices ????? No thanks. I'd get fired after the first hour😭 hmm, what about you?? What's your hell-no job?

Yeah!!! Literally the most important thing. To be honest, when I explain something, I sound like Hinata. "You know, it goes like this and that, and them whewww and woah and yeahhh you know?"

Yeah, it hurt like a bitch but seeing his red-ass face was the best reward I've ever gotten XD he stuttered!!!! Once, but he did, and that's worth more than a thousand compliments I think

Heheheh, how could you not remember?💔 Slkwkfkskx just kidding xD I can also add something else, for example soup dumplings. I love them so much you know?? Very much

It's nice to have friends like that ngl😭😭 sadly I'm that friend xD others are soooo irresponsible its embarrassing

Ohhh I see!! Makes sense, haha~ thanks!! I really need to start doing proper research.

That's so cool, to be honest. I've never been much of a bookworm... probably because we never could afford books so I was never really interested... so embarrassing😭💔 I actually really want to catch up on all those because I've seen them everywhere, so yeah, hopefully, I will😩

I did!!! I had a cheese sandwich (not surprising), and a strawberry milkshake. It was nice^^

Yeah, I've been sleeping alright! A little more than usual, which made me kinda more dehydrated, so I gotta drink more water~

Ohhh, good luck!! That's so cool tbh, I hope it goes well!! I'm sure itll go well, you can do it<33 I hope so as well, no one has done anything yet so yeah xDDD

I hope your day is going great!!! I really love youu🤍🤍🤍

Edit: I forgot about this wjjdkwkdk

I did it😼

THIS IS THE WORST THING IVE EVER CREATED THIS IS SO CRINGEY AJDJJWJRJ!!!!

[the-sanders-sides]

inidan american (desi) logan

a sequel to this post because people asked for more and i decided that they shall receive (and also i love writing these)

fair warning, logans a bitter kid, and this isnt as positive and happy as romans post. ive experienced two different ways of being desi, one where i lived in fully asian and indian community and didnt even think id ever feel alone, and another where i moved to a place where i havent met another desi in like 7 years of living here in a 3 hour driving radius. in romans post i played into my first experience and how at home i felt. in the second experience, the one im in right now, i am much more bitter about who i am and not really knowing anyone who gets it anymore. so i play into that A LOT in this. so keep that in mind. (and he will get happier in a future part. m planning on making this into a series)

ok so first off. his name is logan sanders. people (mostly other indians) dont believe him when he tells them. he tells them they dont know indian history. they say they do. he tells them that the british fucked around (quite literally) in india for four centuries so of course english names would stick with that precise wording

sometimes when he’s annoyed enough and doesnt want to explain this for the millionth he defends himself with this russel peters skit (watch it, it’s hilarious) because it describes his family. to a T. 

he grew up in a community with not very many asians, and knew no indians outside his family so he felt a sort of disconnect to his culture

while his grandparents and parents would teach him about indian culture, he felt so distant from it since he knew no one outside his family who was indian, and since he didnt have any siblings or any nearby cousins to hang around with

he had visited india once but he was too young to remember it properly or too remember his cousins

the closest mandir was an hour away so that also limited the amount of indian kids/people he knew

he barely knew hindi because everyone in his family spoke english, especially in public

he felt guilty over the disconnect he felt and would always try to bridge it but would never accomplish this because it he kept losing passion since he rarely saw other people like him in the real world and in the media and he didnt see the point of trying

this all changed in eight grade when he moved next door to the Kumar family in a north indian street of some south asian blocks in an asian community

when his family first moved, the Kumar family invited the Sanders over to welcome them

it turns out the Kumar’s had a son who was the same age as logan

“hi logan! im rohan kumar! but i like going by roman instead of rohan!” 

this introduction pissed logan off 

he was seething because why would this kid who got to have an indian first AND last name change his name to an english one! why didnt he see the value of his name!

he knew right away that such a difference meant they could never be friends 

“im logan sanders, but thats all youll get to know about me because i see no use associating myself with someone as... well, ignorant, as you”

roman decides to whip out one of the swears his cousins taught him and whisper shouts “who are you calling ignorant, bhenchod?” 

 it became clear to him that this was new turf, and people on this new turf must be speaking hindi. and that he was the ignorant one if he couldnt talk in hindi. he made a vow to learn it as fast as he could to make sure this roman kid wasnt better than him

but, logan grits his teeth and says “you, and i know it must be true because you were too dumb to understand me the first time”

this evidently struck a sore spot in roman because he didnt fight back but just stalked away. logan smiled slightly, happy to have won that argument

logan asks his grandpa to teach him hindi and his grandpa gets super excited

they start lessons immediately and despite barely hearing it growing up, it’s as if his brain was made for this because he picks the language up amazingly fast and in a months time, while not able to speak back yet, he can understand most casual conversation

his first diwali in basically little india is the most magical thing ever

diwali at his old home was very quiet because there wasnt anyone around to celebrate with

everyone is so happy in this new home however. everyone is dressed up and all the houses are lit up and there are diyas everywhere and he doesnt want to admit it but the kumar’s have the best rangoli on the street and it’s because of roman and he knows roman did it because sometimes he’d stare out of his bedroom window while doing homework and have a perfect view of roman delicately working on it for two weeks

(the kumar’s front porch had been covered with tarp waiting for diwali to make sure romans precious rangoli wasnt stepped on or ruined. when it’s finally let up, everywhere where there could be art, there is. it’s insane how good at colors roman is, logan thinks)

diwali morning: 

he fights his parents because he doesnt want to miss school for diwali because americans dont have a day off for it. his parents set the clocks in the house ahead to make him think he overslept so he would skip school. (logan didnt know that his parents had submitted an excused absence form for religious reasons and that the school was very understanding. he thought it would be like his old school where he wouldnteven bother trying since he wasnt christain and the school was lkinda discriminatory)

they spend the morning in mandir and it’s nice. for once he doesnt feel different from his peers because he goes to mandir and not church or synagogue. he feels at home.

diwali afternoon:

the afternoon is spent with frantic cleaning and cooking and digging around for the diya’s that were still in boxes, packed away from when they moved

logan offered to find them all to continue with a diya science experiment he started two years prior. his theory was that the diya’s were multiplying and there were more each year despite no one buying anymore

this held true, because even though he could only find half of their diya collection, it was somehow more than the entire diya collection of two years prior. 

diwali evening:

theres a big potluck and everyone in the neighborhood is out talking to each other, looking at the decorations at everyones houses, eating samosas, and playing with sparklers. 

logan feels content

he makes a new resolve to learn more about hinduism. if this is what ti was supposed to be, then he never wanted to be away from hinduism. 

he looked at the metaphors and symbolism in everything and finally understood what his dad meant he told logan that hinduism is just science written in poetry and that string theory is written in the ancient texts

middle school in this new town is so much better than middle school in his old home. why?

a. doesnt get bullied for being a nerd

b. doesnt get called gay slurs 

c. the classes are harder 

d. much less racism

e. all of the above

soon enough, logans asking his grandpa to teach him how to cook Indian food

Logan spends the day burning dosas and making lopsided rotis

(eventually he gets the hang of it, and a he'll be cooking food for an infuriating Indian boy ;) ;) psst it's roman)

Speaking of boys

Coming out isn't an option for logan

He knows that his parents arent really religious enough to really look into hinduism and see that no, gays are not bad

But they are traditional and conservative enough to be homophobic

not homophobic as in spewing hate with the westboro baptist church at a pride parade

But homophobic as in "the gays are fine as long as they don't do it in front of me" kinda thing

So Logan stays quiet

the closet kinda sucks but i mean what can he do

it’s safer inside, and he as illogical as wishing is, he wishes that people would use their brains and realize there’s nothing wrong with gay

anyway

in school logan makes his first desi friend, who was dubbed as anxiety years ago and cant seem to get rid of the nickname and now has a whole complex about his name so logan doesnt know his name

logan and anxiety meet in the school library: logan studying and anxiety hiding

people dont like anxiety

especially non-indian kids

surprise surprise it’s an old buddy called racism, but anxiety’s story is for another time

(but even though no one really likes anxiety, whenever racist shit goes down, it has to go through roman)

so logan and anxiety become fast friends

and they make fun of roman (a+ bonding)

logan claims that roman is a hypocrite for changing his name to an english one while being so immersed in indian culture

anxiety doesnt dispute this, but says he has a past with roman

a past that involved getting stuck with the name anxiety

again, another story for another time

one day, when logan and anxiety are eating lunch they see roman destroy some homophobes who throw around the word f*g and keep calling caitlyn jenner, bruce jenner

logans chest surges

he’s all like “what?? emotions?? pride at roman?? is he better than me for being so open and standing up for what he believes in??”

gay panic basically

but logan masked it well and pushed it away

the next day roman comes to school with a pride patch on his jean jacket

logan feels like he cant breathe

logan is supremely jealous of roman.

he can be gay in peace

he can pretend not to be indian in a way that benefits him

and he’s not affected by stereotypes in the same way?? like what does this kid not have

and by stereotypes i mean

roman is the complete opposite of all indian and desi stereotypes: loud, flamboyant, theatrical

logan’s personality is exactly how the stereotypes are. he’s nerdy and likes science and math and it seems like he cant escape the stereotypes. they follow him. and he feels guilty that he likes science and math and is nerdy. 

as illogical as it is, he wishes he was different from how he is

but logan later learns that there are more than just his perspective on being desi and that every desi kid growing up faces challenges about it that are different than his, causing them to experience being desi differently

and logan will accept that, in another story at another time

for now, he’s just bitter. and as illogical as it is, he wishes the world was better

and now, i shall tag some people who asked to be tagged and some other desi’s who loved this because i feel like you guys might appreciate this too. also i love u. desi famders squad up.

@sssixeyedrunt @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2 @caterpiller-tea @xxxbladeangelxxx @snufflesthegrim227 @cloudchaser7 @thelowlysatsuma 

[theycallmebeccawrites]

Perfectly Imperfect: Chapter 3

With Tumblr holding my original writing blog @beccaheartschrisevans captive (aka flagged as explicit), I have made a secondary writing blog and may end up closing the other all together. In the meantime, I am reposting all of my stories on my new blog.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Wren Arnold (OFC)

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: n/a

Disclaimer: This work of fiction is not to be reposted, used or translated without my permission.

Perfectly Imperfect Masterlist | Chris & Wren Masterlist

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

June & July 2020

Before deciding, ultimately, to help Chris out by taking care of Addy for the summer, Wren consulted her roommate, Heidi. She and Heidi had met in college and had become roommates after their sophomore year and had been roommates off and on ever since. Since they were also best friends, it meant that Heidi knew most Wren's secrets and vice versa.

Heidi's professional opinion had been that is was a bad idea for Wren to go to work for Chris, especially since she was still secretly in love with him. She also thought it was a bad idea for Wren to get closer to Addy, when she had already fallen in love with the little girl. Her best friend advice slash opinion had been pretty similar to her professional one, but she knew that Wren would do anything for Chris and, suspected based on the interactions she had witnessed or heard about in the past, that he would do the same for Wren.

Armed with Heidi's advice and her own thoughts on the situation, Wren had agreed to help Chris out with Addy on the condition that the little girl attend daycare for at least three half-days a week. As an educator, Wren knew it was vital for Addy to spend time with kids her own age, especially since she was an only child.

Chris and Addy, both, had been excited when Wren had agreed to the take the job. The first couple weeks, however, had been a rough transition as they worked out the kinks and the hiccups to their schedules. Eventually though, it had all become relatively seamless.

On mornings that Chris had an early call time, Wren would arrive at the house an hour before he had to leave. Whereas, on the mornings that he had a late call time, Chris would either take Addy to daycare or get her up and ready for the day before Wren got to the house.

On the days that Addy went to daycare, Wren would pick her up before lunch and they'd spend the afternoon together. Typically, on those days, they'd go to the house for lunch, nap time and some afternoon activity. On the days they spent all day together, they typically left the house after an early lunch and used transportation time as naptime.

No matter his call time, Chris was usually home between six and seven in the evening, which meant he was either home in time for dinner or in time to put Addy to bed. Either way, Wren always made sure that there was enough dinner for him and kept his meals warm, if needed.

On the days that Chris had night shoots, Wren got to the house just before dinner and ate with Chris and Addy since Chris had to leave right after they finished. After Chris left, Wren always let Addy help clean up dinner and then let her spend a little bit longer playing in the bathtub. Nevertheless, the little girl was always in her bed by eight p.m. and Wren had the evening to herself, usually spent watching Chris's vast collection of movies. She usually retired to the guest room by eleven p.m. and left the door open a crack just in case Addy needed her.

Since most of the night shoots happened on Friday nights, Wren was usually woken up to the sound of Chris and Addy laughing as he carried his daughter downstairs to make breakfast. Wren usually gave them some extra time alone before she ventured downstairs. By that point, Chris was practically hooked up to a coffee IV, which meant that after breakfast, he went to bed and Wren drove Addy over to his mom's house for the morning.

On the weekends she wasn't helping Chris, Wren's spent most of the weekend at her apartment getting caught up on laundry and other things that seemed to slip by her during the week. It also gave her time to plan the next week for herself and Addy around Chris's schedule.

At first, Wren left their house as soon as Chris arrived home from work, wanting to give father and daughter some time alone together. That changed, however, when Addy started asking for Wren to help tuck her in and Wren couldn't tell the little girl no.

After that, it was only natural that Chris started asking Wren to stick around, too, claiming he was too amped to go to sleep and wanted to watch a movie or something. They always put on a movie, but they didn't always watch it. Sometimes they played cards and sometimes they talked. They talked about their families, their jobs and her love life (not that there really was one to talk about), but any time his past relationships came up, especially the one with Jessa, he was suddenly tired and asking Wren to leave.

The first time that happened, Wren chose not to let it bug her, after all, Chris had put in a full day on set, but the second and then third time it happened, she had begun to take it personally. In the past, there hadn't been anything that they couldn't talk about, but there clearly was now. It was obvious to her, more now than ever, that the Chris that had returned to Boston as a single dad was not the same Chris who'd left as a newlywed.

The Chris that Wren had met at the tender age of 13, had been lively and the first to chase after you if he sensed something was wrong. They had met doing summer theater together and she had witnessed several of his "encouragement" sessions, but hadn't experienced one until the summer she had been 14 and he, newly, 15.

The play that summer had been Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. She had been cast as Snow White and Chris her Prince Charming. She had auditioned for the role knowing that she would have to kiss someone, but when the time came to practice that scene, she just couldn't do it. Every time Chris had leaned down to kiss her, she had felt every eye in the auditorium watching them and she'd yank her head out of the way at the last second.

After one particularly embarrassing dodge, that resulted in Chris kissing her nose, Wren had fled from the stage and out one of the stage doors. She had paced the parking lot and had nervously applied her favorite blue raspberry chap stick that she always kept in her pocket. She had just stuffed the stick back into her pocket when Chris had found her.

At first, she thought he was angry, but he had dispelled that thought by asking her how she was doing. She had assured him she was ok, which had led to him asking what was wrong. She hadn't wanted to tell him the truth, but he had coaxed it out of her, promising that he could help, whatever it was. She had doubted that fact, but had given in and told him the truth: she'd never kissed anyone.

Wren had expected for Chris to be surprised after she'd made her confession, but he had just nodded his head like he had expected it. Then the idiot had offered to kiss her, like it was no big deal. She had been both embarrassed and mad, obviously, she hadn't been in love with him at that point and she had let him know exactly how she'd felt about his offer.

Chris had quickly apologized for his lackadaisical offer, but had reminded her that, short of letting her understudy take her part in the play, there was no way around the kiss. After all, if they skipped the kiss until opening night, there would 250 sets of eyes watching her have her first kiss.

After listening to his reasoning and coming up with her own similar conclusion, Wren had given her approval. Chris had told her to relax and then had leaned in, pressing his lips against hers. It had been a chaste kiss, but it had been a kiss and, in the end, it had helped break the tension she had been feeling on stage.

Though they had already known each other for a year, at that point, that moment in the parking lot had been the true start of their friendship. She had already known his mom and siblings from the summer theater program, but once she had been deemed a friend by Chris, the whole Evans' family had taken her under their wings. Chris's parents had even reached out to her parents, introducing them to their social circle.

After that, despite being a grade apart, Chris and Wren had spent most of the school year that followed hanging out together. They'd suffered through driver's education together as soon as Wren had turned 15 as well as acted together in the school's theater program.

It had been at the end of that school year, Wren's freshman year of high school and Chris's sophomore year, when Wren had realized that she liked Chris as more than a friend. She wasn't sure when or how it had happened, but suddenly, one day, he was telling his mom something and the light coming in the window just sort of hit him right and Wren had realized how cute he was.

Initially, Wren had tried to shake off the feelings and, instead, had tried to channel them in a different direction, but it couldn't be helped and her feelings had only gotten stronger over the course of the summer.

By the end of the summer, she had been ready to tell Chris how she felt. There was just one little problem. While she had been trying to put some distance between them to try and calm down her feelings, he had been using that time to meet girls and had successfully gotten a summer girlfriend. Not wanting to ruin his happiness, Wren had decided to hide her feelings from him.

Of course, at age 15, Wren hadn't imagined that she would still be in love with her best friend at age 38 and have him still be none the wiser, but that was the truth of her situation. She wasn't sure if there would ever be a time or a situation for her to let her secret out, but it certainly wasn't now.

Chris might be single and in Boston again, but the fact that he was putting up a metaphorical wall between them, told Wren that he was not in a frame of mind to find out his best friend loved him. At this point, all she could do to help was be there for him.

Which is why she started accepting Chris's invitations to spend Saturdays with him and Addy. Logically, she knew it wasn't wise, but she couldn't help it, she loved spending time with the two of them and they clearly loved having her around.

It had been on one of those Saturdays that Wren got a phone call from a school in Albany, New York. She had sent the school her resume the summer after Chris had married, hoping that a change of scenery would help her in her quest to get over him, but the school hadn't had any open positions, at the time. Now, however, they did and she was one of three people they wanted to interview for a job starting in mid August.

Chapter 4

Want to find me off tumblr? I'm @beccatheycallme on twitter. I also post my stories on AO3.

My tag list is always open, just let me know if you'd like to be added!

[tisfan]

What Happens at the Beach House, Part IV

Title: Falling for Your Boyfriend, Idiot Creator: @tisfan Link: AO3 Square Filled: O5 - Romantic Gestures Ship: Tony Stark/Bucky Barnes Rating: teen Major Tags: eavesdropping, Howard Stark’s A+ parenting, romantic gestures, romance Summary: Well, no one said Howard was going to be at the beach house. Tony hears a little more than he was intended to… and maybe, just maybe, what happens at the beach house is going to go home with them. Word Count: 2,308 Created for @mcukinkbingo

A/n - title from one of the quotes in What Happens in Vegas, which is a truly horrible movie, and this is mostly in no way based on that film. Also this author would like to confess to watching entirely too many bad romcoms. But I think everyone knew that already.

What Happens at the Beach House | Stays at the Beach House | Rules of the Road | Falling for Your Boyfriend, Idiot

Bucky was gone by the time Tony got out of the shower -- and maybe he’d lingered there for a while, hiding under the running water until even his mother’s water heater had given up the ghost and started to cool off. The last day at his mom’s beach house, they were going to be packing up and Happy would drive them back to campus, Tony supposed, after lunch.

It wasn’t normal that Bucky was gone already. He’d always waited for Tony before, even on the days when Tony was determined to sleep through lunch, Bucky would pull out a book and read, or watch videos on his phone.

Yeah, okay, so Tony might have been getting a little tired of the act. It was harder and harder to remember as the days went by that he was going to have to give this up once they got back to school.

It wouldn’t matter. A little distance at the end of vacation, Mom would think it was just vacation ending blues. She used to tell him when he was younger that she felt the same way. Howard was different, she would say, away from the business, away from his workshop and office. And that she was always a little sad to leave.

Tony had always thought she was full of it; even when he was too young to recognize what, exactly, she was full of. Howard wasn’t any different on vacation than he was at home. He was always obsessive, greedy, needy, jealous bastard. Just, on vacation, he was focused on Mom, and at home, he was focused on work.

If Tony was screwing up, then he moved from last on Howard’s priority list to somewhere in the top 10, but never higher than five, Tony had decided.

Even a colossal Tony screw up never rated of any more concern than that.

Tony had long ago decided that if the house was on fire, Howard wouldn’t remember he had a son until it was too late to rescue him.

Thinking about Howard always turned Tony’s stomach. He’d have skipped breakfast entirely, except he knew if he didn’t get his morning coffee, he’d have a terrible headache in an hour or so.

Bucky might be done with breakfast already and they could spend the day avoiding each other. Probably. Maybe.

That turned Tony’s stomach too, and he started wondering if the headache was worth it. If he didn’t have to see Bucky, then he didn’t have to see Bucky ignoring him.

Tony decided that coffee was the thing; he’d at least grab a cup.

His brain pinging back and forth between Howard and Bucky, and both people ignoring him, he almost walked right past Howard’s study -- even at the beach house, they had an office for Howard -- without noticing there were voices from within.

Almost.

He paused, because--

(more under the cut)

“... funny that I never heard a peep about you until he came into a fortune,” Howard said.

Tony’s stomach dropped and took up refuge somewhere around his toes. Howard was here? No one had told him that Howard was expected. He leaned closer to the door, eyes narrowed.

“Did he?” That was Bucky, his voice not quite casual. “Good for him.”

“Mmmm,” Howard hummed thoughtfully. “How did you two meet?”

“Couple years ago,” Bucky said -- and that wasn’t right, they’d only met last year, during a class, “I was running the projector for a moviefest the science fiction club was hosting. Tony was there, I think he came to see Flash Gordon or something, but he fell asleep. I didn’t even know he was there, but when I was cleaning and packing up, I dropped the projector. Woke him up cussing because I’d broken it, and I didn’t have the money to replace it. Tony barely opened his eyes, got up, fixed the projector -- you know he carries a screwdriver around with him everywhere he goes? -- and wandered off before I could even say thank you. I didn’t know his name for another month, I think?”

Tony barely remembered that; he sort of remembered the film festival, but not doing repairs to an ancient projector, or talking with Bucky. Huh.

“Anyway, I guess we were introduced to each other, we were lab partners for Pym’s molecular bio class,. We were friends for a while; he helps me out with my car. I’ve been coaching him with his language and literature classes.” Bucky chuckled. “He, uh, he reads really fast, but he doesn’t always grasp metaphors and stuff. Makes writing lit papers difficult. He’s so cute, you know, he’ll pace around the room and be like, ‘no, the curtains are just blue, it doesn’t have to mean anything!’”

Now that, Tony remembered. The only reason he’d passed second year comp at all was because Bucky talked him through, silver-spoon feeding him, all the Christianity references in Villette. There were a lot.

“Helps you with your car? Makes the payments?”

“Huh? No,” Bucky said. “I own that car. She’s just, you know, kinda old. Tony likes playing with the engine anyway, so he’s been helping me with maintenance and stuff. You know the dealership wanted two grand to replace the sway bar? Tony did it in twenty minutes with a ten dollar part. And he’s fast. I told him he should try to get a spot on a NASCAR driver’s pit crew. He’d be a natural.”

Tony had to clap his hand over his mouth to keep from laughing. That would piss Howard off to no end, really. Bad enough Tony wasn’t majoring in business, wasn’t going to the school Howard wanted, was instead wrapped up in studying mechanical engineering, but not to go into the business at all, to be a dirty, grimy mechanic? Howard would chew nails and spit staples before he’d let that happen.

Bucky was a pretty good driver; Tony wondered if they could run away together and live off the winnings from track races.

Not, he thought, shaking himself all over, that Bucky wanted to run off with Tony to begin with.

And what the hell was Howard grilling him about anyway. Why the fuck was Howard even here?

His parents weren’t quite divorced yet; they’d seperated about six months ago, but Howard kept trying… Tony was pretty sure he was going to wear Mom out eventually. Maria Stark had about as much backbone as an earthworm, and Howard was pretty stubborn when he wanted something.

Tony had inherited all that stubbornness, and some of the backbone issue. He had a hard time standing up to Howard, even when he really, really wanted something.

“Would you be interested in a new car?” Howard speculated.

“Not really,” Bucky said. “I, uh, my insurance premiums are only like seventy dollars a month right now. If I gotta put collision and the value of a new car on top of that, no thank you. I’m making do, and Tony’s keeping her running.”

“Something could be arranged to take care of that,” Howard suggested. “You like race cars? Chevy’s got a really nice Corvette this year, we could cover the insurance for a few years, at least until it drops a bracket.”

Tony could almost see the dubious expression on Bucky’s face. “What are you getting at?”

“Look, I’ll square with you, kid,” and there came Howard’s showman’s voice, the I’m going to talk you into anything tones. “Tony’s being a thorn in my side. I built up Stark Industries from an idea in a garage, and I need him to stop messing around and put in some work so we don’t lose the company. This… engineering and fixing cars stuff, that’s just a distraction. Just… like you are a distraction.”

“I’m not quite following you, Mr. Stark,” Bucky said, but he sounded suspicious, like maybe he did.

Tony was half tempted to barrel in there before Howard could say something irrevocable. Or before Bucky could.

The rest of him wondered, exactly, what Howard thought he was doing.

And what Bucky was going to do about it.

“All of this,” Howard said. “This is what he needs to be thinking about, what he needs to be doing. And right now, everything’s going his way. He’s got school that he’s frittering time away with, and a boyfriend and all that.”

“And you, what? Aim t’ make him unhappy enough to do what you want?” Bucky sounded very unimpressed. “You know I don’t see him giving up on school just because we’re not dating anymore. He throws himself into work when he’s unhappy. You should see him every time he comes back to school after break. He’ll do it just to spite you.”

“Yeah, I think I know my son a little better than you do.”

Do not, do not, do not, Tony thought, like a recalcitrant toddler. That was one of Howard’s biggest problems. He didn’t know his family at all. He barely understood his wife, he had no idea what his son was like.

“I’m still waiting for what your proposal is,” Bucky said. “Because this conversation is going around in circles. You wanna just lay it on the table?”

“I’d like you to break things off with Tony,” Howard said.

“This may well be the first time I got a you’re no good for him talk from someone’s parents,” Bucky said, thoughtfully. “So, hit me with what’s in it for me.”

“I understand what you think you’re getting out of Tony,” Howard said.

“No, sir, I really don’t think you do,” Bucky said.

“You think he’s a meal ticket, that he’s a steady rush of wine and dine,” Howard carried on, as if he hadn’t heard Bucky at all. “And you know and I know that college relationships don’t last. You’re a man of the real world, Barnes. Not like Tony, with his head in the clouds. So, let me just skip to the good part. I will cut you a check for fifty thousand dollars.”

Tony almost fell over; he had to cling to the doorframe as his knees went weak.

“Why does this sound like a proposal you’ve made before,” Bucky wondered. “Did you offer that girl a similar deal? Because Sunset dropped Tony like he was a hot brick.”

“Bain was reasonable,” Howard said. “Think what it could mean, Barnes, starting out your career without debt.”

Tony considered bursting in, now. Howard had paid Sunset to dump him? Painfully, letting Tony catch her with another guy? That was… that was fucking low, and Tony wasn’t sure why the hell he was surprised. Not that Sunset was the kind of person that Tony wanted to be with, if she could be paid off so easily.

“I think you don’t know the first thing about Tony,” Bucky was saying, and Tony dragged his attention back to his eavesdropping. “I think you don’t appreciate what you’ve got. Tony has money, but you know what? I don’t care about that. I care that he’s smart. I care that he’s clever. I care that his face lights up when he’s discussing engineering, and how he believes that the rules of physics don’t necessarily apply to him. I love the way his eyes crinkle up when he’s happy. And I don’t think there’s enough money in the world to break his heart for you.”

“It won’t last,” Howard said. “I’ve watched him be unable to maintain friendships. He forgets that the real world exists. He forgets to shower, wears dirty clothes, forgets to eat or sleep. He gets lost in his workshop, and then by the time he remembers that other people are real, they’re gone. You’ll end up without him, no matter what. I’m just offering to make it nice and convenient, and on your own timetable. With a sizeable incentive.”

“I think you’re a bastard,” Bucky said. “And now I won’t do it just to goddamn spite you.”

“You’re being foolish,” Howard snarled, all the charm dropping out of his voice.

“Maybe so,” Bucky said. “But being in love makes fools of all of us, doesn’t it, Mr. Stark?”

Tony let his hand drop off the door, backed up a few steps.

It didn’t make sense.

Why wouldn’t Bucky just take the money? He and Tony weren’t actually dating, the money was just a bonus on what was going to happen as soon as they got back to school anyway.

Bucky’d sounded very sincere.

Being in love makes fools of us all…

Tony stopped dead in the hallway.

What?

Bucky slammed the door to Howard’s study open, ready to storm out of the room, then, “Take your hands off me,” he snapped angrily. “I said-- oh, Tony.”

Whatever Howard was ready to say was bitten off behind his teeth as he followed Bucky out into the hall and saw Tony standing there, probably looking like an idiot, gawking.

“Oh, hey, Bucky,” Tony said, wildly, trying to sound nonchalant and probably missing the mark by a mile. “I was looking for you, did you want to, you know, go for a walk, since we’re leaving right after lunch and this’ll be the last opportunity?”

“Yeah, baby,” Bucky said, still glaring at Howard. “That sounds like it’d be great. Let’s go that.”

He was at Tony’s side in a moment, gripping Tony’s arm a little harder than he probably meant to, fingers digging into Tony’s bicep in a painful clench.

“Hi, Dad,” Tony said, waving. “Bye, Dad.”

Howard just stood there, fist clenched.

Probably Howard didn’t think it was worth the effort to assault someone who wasn’t a family member. Although he might reconsider it. Howard had really good lawyers.

“Let’s go,” Bucky said under his breath, not looking back. His shoulders were stiff and Tony was getting a sore jaw, listening to the way Bucky was clenching his teeth.

“Yeah, let’s… let’s do that.” 

[chocosvt]

❝ 92 statements tag ❞

i was tagged by jeonghan’s amazing gf @jeonghney for the 92 statement’s tag. thnk u my gold rose petal.

rules: answer these 92 statements and tag 10 people ! if there are questions that are too personal or you don’t want to answer, skip them or make a new one :^)

THE LAST (1-5):

drink: h2o

phone call: oh gosh, i can hardly remember. pizza pizza? who doesn’t deliver so thnks for soiling my day.

text: to a group chat.

song you listened to: exo - touch it bc i appreciate art.

time you cried: lmao like yesterday bc i was watching an emotional ep of hotel hell.

HAVE YOU (6-11):

dated someone twice: nope.

kissed someone and regretted it: i dont think so?

been cheated on: in uno yes.

lost someone special: yep.

been depressed: depression is received at many levels. extremely sad yes, but not depressed.

gotten drunk and thrown up: im the one holding ur hair back.

LIST 3 FAVORITE COLORS (12-14):

pink!!

light purple!!

silver!!

IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU (15-21):

made new friends: lots irl n online!!

fallen out of love: yes.

laughed until you cried: yes everyday bc i gave myself a laugh n a half.

found out someone was talking about you: nope.

met someone who changed you: i havent met them!!

found out who your friends are: ive been with the same squad for 4 yrs n we’re just chillin.

kissed someone on your facebook list: i have never used fb a day in my life.

GENERAL (22-34):

how many of your facebook friends do you know in real life: ^

do you have any pets: im living with 2 kitties right now!! but ive owned many different animals in the past.

do you want to change your name: she can stay as she is.

what did you do for your last birthday: my friends nd i booked a hotel room!!

what time did you wake up: 11:30am lol.

what were you doing at midnight last night: eating cereal!! every time i stay up past midnight i will eat cereal 2 celebrate all the hours of sleep im wasting.

name something you can’t wait for: to hang out with my bff’s we have not seen each other all summer.

when was the last time you saw your mom: yesterday bc she broke into my room for m&m’s.

what’s one thing you wish you could change in your life: hmm, idk. i’d like 2 be taller bc i cannot reach the popcorn shelf!!! :(

what are you listening to right now: a lot of dua lipa!!

have you ever talked to a person named tom: yup.

most visited website: tumblr / instagram / youtube / twitter

LOST QUESTIONS (35-64):

moles: a few on my arms n a trail tht’s up my shoulder. tht’s abt it

marks: i have a mark on the side of my head but my hair covers it. n one on my knee from when i fuckinj fell down a bridge.

hair color: blonde.

long hair or short: medium length is more fitting.

do you have a crush on someone: i would rather crush on a thumbtack than half the b*ys in my division. there are some nice girls tho!!

what do you like about yourself: some days there are many things!! other days there’s like 2 things. so im not sure!! im just trying my best i guess!!

piercings: two lobe piercings on both ears n im set for an industrial.

blood type: i would know the scientific notation of the distance between earth and sirius b before i knew this.

nickname: i h8 when ppl make nicknames outta my real name so i dont have any.

relationship status: sasuke and i are going on a trip to berlin next fall.

zodiac: aquarius.

pronouns: she/her

favorite tv show: the office / teen wolf / house / american horror story / atlab

tattoos: nope.

right or left hand: right.

surgery: no surgeries.

hair dyed in a different color: ive been a blonde bitch my whole life.

sport: basketball / sleep.

vacation: i just got back from a vacay n it was gr8 i got 10/10 sky pics!!<3

pair of trainers: im rlly obsessed with shoes but ive been wearing the same vans for 5 yrs. (my feet never grow!!)

MORE GENERAL (57-73):

eating: i like eating watermelon, twix bars n marinated ribs!! just fuck me up.

drinking: iced tea n orange juice are my faves.

i’m about to: it’s just past lunch which means it’s time to eat breakfast.

waiting for: some mf’ motivation 2 punch me in the face so i can write some more today!!

want: i rlly want a specialized rice krispie spoon ive been trying for a year!!!! :((

get married: i just dont think ill ever like someone enough 2 wanna live in the same house as them for tht long.

career: an english or bilingual teacher. i wouldnt mind teaching chemistry either.

WHICH IS BETTER (65-73):

hugs or kisses: i rlly dislike physical contact so i would pick neither, but hugs!!

lips or eyes: eyes!!

shorter or taller: it does not matter.

older or younger: older, but i wouldnt mind if they were a few months younger.

nice arms or nice stomach: i have this weird attraction to forearms so. also next time u look at  a junhui pic look at his wrists he has such nice wrists!!! what cream is he using??!?

sensitive or loud: this is so complicated. i rlly dont like loud ppl just bc im easily overwhelmed n agitated with their… over-boisterousness?? nd i will always protec the sensitive ppl n respect their tolerance levels. we just dont mesh well bc ill always worry abt hurting their feelings. u just gotta get someone who knows ur vibe. idk what im saying. i guess loud.

hook up or relationship: relationship.

troublemaker or hesitant: troublemaker lol.

HAVE YOU EVER (74-83):

kissed a stranger: nope.

drank hard liquor: just picture tht vine of the kid goin “yo, all this vodka down the hatch” then being completely revolted. tht’s me

lost glasses/contact lenses: every day of my life.

turned someone down: yes.

sex in the first date: nope.

broken someone’s heart: yes.

had your heart broken: i rlly try not 2 wallow in those emotions n instead distract myself so not entirely.

been arrested: no but someone called the cops on me n my friend. (it was just a misunderstanding. i swear i wasnt doin a line of cocaine in an alley way or anything like tht tjgnjt4e)

fallen for a friend: yes!!

DO YOU BELIEVE IN (84-89):

yourself: *insert meme of me watching my own back*

miracles: it would be a miracle if junhui grew out his hair. but also chunks ahoy chocolate chip cookies.

love at first sight: not rlly. it’s usually falling for the idea of being with that person, instead of who they actually are as a person.

santa claus: im still waiting for my easy bake oven u jolly piece of shit.

kiss on the first date: maybe a cheek kiss? idk. a little spice is always nice.

angels: yes. who else is up there bowling?

OTHER (90-92):

favorite thing to do when you’re bored: zone off and completely disassociate.

do you wear socks to sleep: ive done it like 3 times. it’s not tht bad.

favorite movies: FLIPPED. captain phillips / my neighbour totoro / napoleon dynamite.

tagging : oh gosh idk (ofc this is optional!!) @jeonghangif / @sukaato / @meanei / @lolitasletters / @jaehyunsleatherpants / @boysbe / @seokshuas / @trbld-writer

[alexsunmners]

Shot At the Night VI

Alex Summers x Reader, Chapter 6/6

A/N: It’s finally mcfucking finished holy shit. Thanks for sticking with me through my months of procrastination, and I hope you enjoyed it. Please please please give me some feedback bc it’s my lifeblood and I need it to survive. 

Part I / Part II / Part III / Part IV / Part V / ao3

Tags: @kurtwxgners @put-in-writing @shayara @raypclmer @emmcfrxst @karazorelsgf @rax-writes @frostypalmer @vodkaauntwithwings @jubillee  @stovehairington @condorlana @fantasticallycaitlin @a-girl-who-loves-disney @scorletwitch @cheylovesmotox @littlemissvicki @one-secondof-thevamps @brooke-supernatural16 @icepeters-book-trash @bookchic20 @fandomiteen @captain-ducks-swim-in-the-pond @notsofastmaximoff

You try to go back to sleep. You really do try. After the apartment door swings closed, you just sit on the edge of Alex’s bed, frozen in place. The past three months play on repeat in your mind, flitting through as if on fast forward and you’re not seeing the time filtering past as a whole, you’re seeing the individual moments. The ones where you let yourself buy into the façade of dating a little too deeply. You’re holding his hand in a supermarket aisle and calling him babe. Kissing him on the couch and telling yourself that it’s for practice. That you don’t feel anything but platonic affection for him. He’s introducing himself to your friends as your boyfriend with his arm around your waist.

You can feel tears working their way down your cheeks, but you’re barely aware of them, still lost in your memories. Skip forwards another two weeks and you’re sharing a bed. Your mental recap freezes on the moment you woke up beside him, and your heart actually lurches at the remembrance of his drowsy blue eyes and messy hair and the sleepy smile he gave you. The tears are coming faster now, and as you reach up to wipe them from your face, you can’t help but feel fucking ridiculous. How did you ever let yourself think that he wanted you too? How did you ever let this whole absurd charade get this far?

The mental play through of your pseudo relationship is still going. You’re getting drinks with Angel and she’s telling you Alex makes you happy. How whatever is between the two of you is serious. Alex is sitting on the couch with you again, only this time he looks like he might fall apart and all you want to do is hold him. Something stutters in your mind and then you’re kissing him, and for two seconds it’s perfect and then he pulls away and it’s your turn to fall apart. The memories evaporate and you feel like you’re suffocating because the sheets you’re sitting on are still warm and they smell like him and you’re suddenly so aware of just how head over goddamn heels you’ve managed to fall for him.

Somehow you manage to stumble out and back to your room, collapsing on your bed, curled in on yourself as you remember the panicked expression in his eyes as he pushed you away. It’s normal for rejection to sting, but this feels like your heart has been ripped out and you’re so aware of exactly what kind of cliché you’re living right now but you don’t care that this closely resembles a scene from any generic rom com one might care to name because it hurts too fucking much.

Alex still isn’t back when you wake up. Despite your best efforts to the contrary, you must have somehow managed to slip into a fitful sleep because you open your eyes to weak early morning light filtering through your blinds. You listen carefully to the sounds in the apartment, not sure whether you’re hoping to hear someone else there or not. Regardless of what you were hoping for, the apartment is resoundingly empty, and something in your chest crumples a little at the emptiness echoing back at you. Eventually you drag yourself up from your pillows and into the kitchen to make coffee, wishing it were at least past noon so you could indulge in something a little stronger and more likely to make you feel better without feeling like the tragic second choice from a shitty romance novel. The coffee does help, though.

The hours in the day wear on, and Alex still doesn’t come back to the apartment. You make lunch and then don’t do much more than toy with it on your plate. You sit on the couch and turn the tv on but don’t watch it. The clock is ticking faintly in the background and you hate how acutely aware you are of the noise the second hand makes as it works its way around the face. It’s late afternoon when you hear the lock click and the door swing quietly open. The careful footsteps pause behind where you’re sitting on the couch and then move on after a moment, shuffling towards his bedroom. It’s agony, but you’re too proud to bring up the previous night if he isn’t going to do it first.

Afternoon slowly turns to evening and then to night. You’re exhausted but there’s something that’s a uniquely painful mix of adrenaline and indignant, self-righteous fury buzzing in your veins and you know sleep is a long way off, so you flick aimlessly through Netflix and try to find something to distract you. You hear Alex’s door open as he comes out to get himself some dinner, and again, he pauses behind where you’re sitting on the couch, resolutely ignoring his presence. He walks to the kitchen and then pauses again before turning around, walking back to stand behind you. The tension builds and builds between the two of you as he just watches you ignore him, and then he sighs heavily.

“Are we just not gonna talk about last night, then?” His voice is quiet but it sends a shiver down your spine and you still don’t turn around because you don’t know if you can manage looking at him right now.

“What’s there to talk about?” you ask steadily, as unconcerned as you can manage to make it sound. Alex sighs and you hear footsteps again as he makes his way round to the side of the couch, but you resolutely keep your gaze trained on the tv, though nothing is playing. “You had a nightmare, I calmed-tried to calm you down, you needed air so you left.”

You can see Alex’s hands clench into fists in your peripheral vision as he says “You know exactly what I mean. Don’t play dumb. It doesn’t suit you.” There’s a low note of anger in his voice and it’s enough to push you into motion, turning to look at him for the first time since last night. He looks like shit. There are circles under his eyes and it wouldn’t take much convincing to make you believe he hasn’t slept since he woke up at two am. His hair is a mess and his hands are shaking a little and his eyes are intense with an emotion you can’t quite name. “You kissed me.”

“You ran away from me,” you snap at him, your hands balling in the too long sleeves of your sweater as you glare at him furiously, trying to keep the tears pricking at the back of your eyes at bay. “I think that makes your feelings on the matter abundantly clear, thanks Alex. I don’t see what there is to talk about.”

“I didn’t run away,” he starts, but you cut him off, scoffing and swiping angrily at your eyes, having failed to keep the tears from falling.

“Sure fucking felt like running away to me,” you spit bitterly. “It’s okay. I get it. You don’t have feelings for me. It’s fine. I understand. I won’t try and get you taken off as my security or whatever, I’m not that kind of asshole, you won’t-”

“I don’t have feelings for you?” Alex’s gaze has the low intensity of someone losing their control over their emotions and it makes you freeze up, eyes locked on him. “You think that’s why-(Y/N), I have nothing but feelings for you. Shit, every fucking day for the past month has been like-I left because you are entirely too much for me to be able to think straight around you.” Your breath catches in your throat and you feel like your heart might pound out of your chest as he keeps going. “I left last night-yeah, it probably seemed like running away and yeah you’re right to be angry, just-” he takes a small, hesitant step towards you, one hand going to brace on the back of the couch as his eyes burn into yours. “Did you kiss me because you were trying to make me feel better, or was it something more because I have to know.”

It seems fucking miraculous that you manage to make your voice work at all, but somehow you manage to whisper “It was more. I kissed you because I have feelings for you, not-” you break off for a second, momentarily lost for words. “I fucking care about you, Alex. A lot.”

You’re both utterly still for a moment, just staring at one another, both deeply aware of the immense emotional volatility in the room. Then Alex takes an agonizingly slow step around the couch towards you. And then another. You swear you can hear the roaring of your heart as he sinks down onto the couch in front of you, tentatively reaching out to just barely brush his fingertips over the skin of your jaw. Your eyes reflexively slip shut as he hesitantly cradles your cheek in his hand, close enough for you to feel his breath on your face.

“Say it again,” he whispers hoarsely. “Please.”

Your hands are shaking and your eyes are still closed and your voice is scarcely audible as you breathe “I care about you.”

For one long, painful moment, he doesn’t react. And then, slowly and softly and so, so carefully, Alex leans forwards to press his lips to yours. It’s the barest brush of pressure but it sends a wave of relief and affection surging through you so strongly that if you weren’t sitting, it might have buckled your knees. His hand is still cupping your cheek, and you blindly reach one of your hands out to curl round his bicep, feeling his warmth and stability under your touch as he kisses you gently. It’s like flying and freefall and drowning all at once and you don’t think, just lose yourself in the feeling of his lips against yours. This is so monumentally different to the dry, quick kisses you’ve shared in front of friends, and worlds away from the momentary bliss of the night before. Kissing Alex now is something real and tangible and utterly addictive.

He pulls back a moment later, his forehead leaning against yours, his eyes closed and you’re pretty sure you’d be happy to stay in this moment forever. “I care about you,” he murmurs, a small smile tugging at his lips, and you give in to your impulse and just wrap yourself around him, shifting closer till you’re pressed up against him and your arms are around his shoulders as you bury your face against the crook of his neck, breathing him in. A second later he wraps his arms around your waist, one hand stroking idly up and down along your spine as he holds you close, the two of you content to just exist inside your little bubble of this perfect moment for as long as the rest of the world will let you.

“So, where does that put us?” you mumble against his skin, still not relinquishing your grip on him. You can feel him shrug languidly as his palm continues to rub slowly over your back.

“Wherever we want to be, I guess,” he says quietly. “I-what I feel for you is-it’s stronger than anything I’ve had before,” he continues almost reluctantly.

You nod, your face still tucked against the crook of his neck, and you can feel the tension drop from his shoulders as you murmur a soft “me too.”

“Maybe it’s-I dunno, maybe it’s love or whatever, or maybe it’s not. We might get married or this could blow up in a week, but whatever it is we have-it’s special. And I want to figure it out. Together,” Alex finishes, still stroking lightly along the curve of your back. You pull up from his neck to look at him properly, a small, utterly smitten smile tugging at your lips as you study his open, affectionate expression.

“I’d like that,” you whisper, and the answering smile he gives you is brilliant and dizzying and it feels like home.

[armyhealth9-blog]

Episode 405 - Robb and Nicki Q&A #9

We're back with Q&A #9 with Robb and Nicki.

Remember to submit your own questions for Robb and Nicki to answer on a future show here: https://robbwolf.com/contact/submit-a-question-for-the-podcast/

Show Notes:

1. [2:06] Kidney Stones

Krisztian says: I've been mostly Paleo for about 5 years now based on one of your piror books.  Overall, it has worked well for me, with one exception.  I started to develop kidney stones on a regular basis.  I finally had them analyzed and they turned out to be calcium oxalate stones.  Upon reading up on this condition, it stems from a high amount of oxalate in the diet.  Unfortunatley, most of the foods I liked on Paleo happen to be super high in oxalate... spinach, nuts, seeds, dark chocolate, sweet potatoes.  The other wammy here is that I was initially avoiding dairy on Paleo which turns out to be worse for stones because one way to counteract high oxalate intake is to match it with high calcium to avoid stone formation.  I've since gone back to eating plenty of cheese and high fat dairy in my diet.

I'm curious if this is a common issue that you've seen and I'm wondering if this is something that might be helped by going to a keto diet.

2. [5:33] Sugar addiction Kathryn says: Hey Robb, I am really hoping you can give me some insight into why I can't seem to fully recover from sugar addiction. I have had a sweet tooth my whole life, but in recent years I have learned that I have a true addiction to sugar. In the last four years or so, I have studied a lot of nutrition, functional medicine and ancestral health perspectives and gone on a strict paleo diet for months at a time. In almost every way, a clean diet of whole foods makes me feel amazing (better sleep, clearer skin, joints and movement feels better, etc.), except, I become very depressed. It's not a mopey, weepy kind of depressed, it's literally a depression of all feeling, like I feel very little at all. But I do sometimes feel really, really irritable, or sometimes bouts of rage that don’t match the situations they arise in. But most of the time, I just feel blah. I thought this would go away after a couple of weeks or even a month or two of eating clean, but it didn't. In happy or exciting moments, it was like I just couldn't feel those emotions fully. I also noticed that I didn't crack jokes like I usually do or feel like being social. All my feelings were dulled. Even sad ones. And when I did fall off the diet, and eat sugar, I immediately felt cheerful again. To me, it seems that the years of sugar abuse have altered my brain enough that without sugar, I can't feel normal emotions anymore. So my question is concerning healing my brain. Is it possible to reverse these effects? The longest I have gone on a strict paleo diet is three months. I admit it was hard to keep going when I just didn't see myself ever feeling happy again. If it's possible to heal my brain and increase its capacity for proper dopamine signaling again, are there certain therapies or supplements that can precipitate and accelerate that healing? Perhaps I am ignorant of some other factor or mechanism at work here. I would be grateful for any insight or help you can give. Thanks for the incredible work you do to bring to light the truth about human health and nutrition.

Notes:

Carb 22: https://carbsyndrome.com/nutraceuticals-new/

STEM Talk Episode 69 (David LeMay): https://www.ihmc.us/stemtalk/episode-69/

3. [11:32] Metabolic Flexibility and Weight Loss/Maintenance Julia says: Robb and Nicki, I am very interested in the concept of metabolic flexibility and eagerly waiting to hear your upcoming lecture on this topic. Intuitively it makes sense that given variation in season and climate that humans would have relied on a menu of macronutrient combinations. My question is: how can developing metabolic flexibility be used as tool for weight loss/maintenance? I have been about 90% ketogenic for the past 28 months; the other 10% would be high carb meals which I have allowed as a metabolically flexible person. I can swing in and out of ketosis with ease; however, I have noticed that if I go through periods of higher carb, it does result in weight gain which is tough to lose even when reentering ketosis. I do crossfit almost daily and practice the 18:6 IF schedule, and I don't notice either of those things affecting my performance. Thanks!

4. [16:31] Low afternoon energy

Laura says: Hi Robb and Nicki, Thank you both for all you do! I've been a huge fan since 2010 and admire your relentless pursuit of the truth when it comes to health and nutrition.

My question is about my extremely low energy in the early afternoons. I know it is a common complaint, but I feel like I've done everything I can to fix the common mistakes  that lead to the afternoon slump, and I also feel like my exhaustion is too extreme to be normal for my age and health status.

I'm 32 years old, I eat low carbish (75-100g most days), have toyed with keto, eat mostly paleo with the addition of some dairy and occasional non gluten grains. I do crossfit 3x/week and spend most of my time chasing my 2 year old around. My sleep is good most of the time, and I do not have any major life stressors that effect me currently. No diagnosed health conditions, no rx meds.

I had bloodwork done recently, and my doctor was very impressed with the results, especially my blood lipids. A1c was 4.8, C-reactive protein 0.8, no thyroid antibodies present. Fasting blood sugar 78. The only things that were slightly out of range were homocysteine (slightly low at 4.6), Uric acid low at 2.4, serum iron slightly high at 148, and my free T3 was a little low at 2.5. Another Doctor years ago prescribed me naturethroid but I never took it.

Ive tried changing my diet in every way imaginable to try to combat a possible hypoglycemic or food sensitivity related slump after lunch.  I've eliminated various foods that people can be sensitive to,and ive even tried more carbs in the morning, but that leads to blood sugar imbalance and cravings all day. As a result, my breakfasts and lunches would fall under the keto umbrella, as I feel better when I eat carbs later in the day.

The only thing that seems to slightly help is not eating at all, but I just get so hungry! My activity level is fairly high and I don't feel like I'm a great candidate for intermittent fasting at this point.

My mom, who has had MS for about 30 years, does not eat all day and only eats dinner because she's says eating makes her tired. I just can't handle not eating at all, and I do feel fatigued and hypoglycemic if I try to skip meals.

Thanks for reading and for all you do!!

5. [23:08] Carb test and ketosis

Carl says: Hey Robb,

I read Wired to Eat while I was pretty deep into a ketotic cycle, so I didn't immediately get to the 7-day carb test. Years of self-experimentation have led me to a relatively low carb (<50g/day) Paleo diet with an occasional 48 hour fast, an occasional ketotic cycle, and a very occasional carb re-feed. Genetic testing revealed some SNPs that predispose me to insulin resistance, and others that positively affect my fat metabolism, reinforcing the fact that I look, feel, and perform better eating in this fashion. I do enjoy my occasional carb binges, so I'd like to perform the carb test in order to whittle my food selections down to those least damaging to my metabolism; but I'm concerned that my postprandial blood glucose readings will be skewed upward because I don't regularly eat more than ten or fifteen grams of effective carbs at a time. Should I bring my daily and per-meal carb intake up for a certain period of time before starting the carb test, or is a 50 gram bolus of carbs small enough to give me a true measure of glucose tolerance for the purpose of food selection? Thanks in advance.

6. [27:30] Creativity and Writing Process

Peter says: Robb,

I hope all is well. I'm a big fan of the Podcast and excited about the Q & A return.  I have a two-parter both within the same general idea.

FIRSTLY: I'm a writer and I am alway curious about how others approach the creative process.  I was curious if you could elaborate on how you approach writing and creativity in regards to balancing an active lifestyle? And how a typical day when writing might look.

For example -- Do you do things like meditate? What time of the day do you write? Where do you write? If you write in the morning how do you reconcile with hanging outside first thing in the morning to get some sun?  If you do Jujutsu around noon and roll for 2 hours how do you write around it?  You've mentioned eating big meals in the morning, if you're in a heavy writing period, is this a habit you stick with? Oh by the way, you have a wife and kids... how do you balance it all?

Do you still do caffeine?  Do you force yourself to take breaks during writing?  How do you avoid sitting for 5/6 hours straight?

Sorry for all the questions, I've just been thinking about this a lot lately as I enter into a career pursuing my passion as a writer while trying to balance and prioritize my health.  As I am sure you can attest, writing can be all consuming if you let it and setting boundaries is vital -- though difficult, especially if you're in "the zone."  So I'd love to hear your thoughts.

[33:18] SECONDLY:  I'd love to get your thoughts on the mechanisms at play when writing or doing anything else that requires intense mental focus in regards to willpower.  Correct me if I am wrong, but it feels like for me, many aspects of writing and maintaining a healthy lifestyle (choosing healthy food over shitty stuff, hitting the gym, walking, etc.) can drain from the same willpower tank (if not just psychologically, and physically -- physiologically as well).  This isn't to say that both can't exist -- rather does one need to be given priority based on ordering of events throughout the day? 

For example, I feel my creativity comes to me first thing in the morning.  If I were to wake up and hit a Metcon first thing, I feel my creativity gets depleted from the shared willpower tank.  I feel this to be true with little things that chip away at my early morning start time as well.  For example, taking the time to make a big healthy breakfast, sitting in the sun, even a short walk, all delay me tapping into when I feel I am creatively primed -- but is it worth the sacrifice of my health?

I was curious if you have any thoughts on when or how you prioritize creativity.  Or maybe this is all just a bunch of bullshit like Robert Rodriguez says -- and our creativity is totally out of our control. 

Anyways, love the show and everything you do.  If I had more time, I would have written a shorter letter.

Regards, Peter

Source: http://robbwolf.libsyn.com/episode-405-robb-and-nicki-qa-9

[theconservativebrief]

I am going to die in this dentist’s chair.

My eyes are closed, but I can still see skulls outlined with white against a black background. I have an epiphany: God is death. I’m in the midst of a real-life version of the hallucinogenic ride in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, all in my own mind.

A monitor emits a steady beep, and for a second, I think I’m flatlining. But no: I’ve just completed my first infusion of ketamine, a veterinary anesthetic (often used on cats and horses) sometimes used illegally as a club drug called Special K.

I am here because I cannot stop thinking about suicide. I’ve been in therapy on and off for more than 30 years, since I was 5, and on depression medication for more than a decade. Nothing seemed to work. I couldn’t stop imagining killing myself in increasingly vivid daydreams.

As a journalist who covers health and medicine, I had read about the success of experimental trials that used ketamine to treat depression. My therapists had recommended extreme treatments like electroshock therapy, a procedure that frightened me due to reports of memory loss from those who had undergone it, but had never mentioned this. But I was getting desperate for a serious intervention.

After some research, I concluded that ketamine was not only more affordable but just as effective as sending electrical pulses through my brain. (About 70 to 85 percent of patients with severe depression who try ketamine treatment say it’s effective, compared with 58 to 70 percent of ECT patients.) I told my doctor I wanted to try it.

It wasn’t my goal to be on the vanguard, just to get better, but I am an early adopter of a treatment that could one day help millions of people with chronic depression. After a full treatment cycle, my suicidal thoughts went away. And depression isn’t the only psychiatric illness the drug may combat. Studies are being conducted on ketamine’s efficacy on anxiety, bipolar disorder, post-traumatic stress disorder, and even obsessive-compulsive disorder.

That’s how I wound up glued to that dentist-style chair at a clinic in Houston envisioning skulls, as an IV drip steadily infused me with a drug I’d thought was reserved for rave-goers.

Most people familiar with ketamine know it as either a veterinary medicine or an illegal street drug. But it’s been approved by the Food and Drug Administration for anesthetic use for humans since 1970. Its rise as a treatment for depression, a legal but off-label usage not yet approved by the FDA, is even more recent.

Ketamine’s antidepressant effects were revealed in a Yale study in 2000. Over the next decade, researchers continued to explore its potential as a treatment for major depressive disorder. Asim Shah, a professor and executive vice chair at Baylor College of Medicine who co-led several of these studies, told me that doctors have long been curious about the euphoric effects of ketamine. A lot of people given ketamine as an anesthetic “would start smiling or laughing,” he says. “That’s the reason that many people before have said, ‘Oh, maybe it can be used for depression.’”

As of now, selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors (SSRIs) like Prozac and multiple-receptor antidepressants such as trazodone are among the most commonly prescribed drugs to treat depression. Yet studies show that only around 37 percent of people who use these drugs experience full remission. The number drops past the first year of use.

Ketamine is an NMDA (N-methyl-D-aspartate) receptor antagonist, which means that it targets glutamate absorption in the nerve cells, unlike traditional antidepressants, which raise serotonin levels by blocking the reabsorption of the neurotransmitter. Glutamate is associated with excitability — among many other brain functions such as memory. Researchers like Shah believe that as the brain metabolizes the ketamine, new neural pathways are created that help restore function obliterated by depression. It’s this effect, not the experience of hallucinations or dissociation, that can help treat depression.

Despite its association with the platform sneakers and vinyl pants of the 1990s club scene, ketamine abuse began in the ’80s. People who take ketamine recreationally do so for its fast-acting high, which is typically a floating or out-of-body experience coupled with euphoria. But it’s not the kind of party drug that will bump up your social skills. After all, it is an anesthetic: Users retreat into their minds and experience hallucinations, sometimes reporting religious experiences or even a feeling some compare to rebirth. Drawbacks of recreational use of the drug include risk of overdose, dependence, and high blood pressure.

But for someone experiencing intense depression, that “rebirthing” can be therapeutic.

What people who have never battled depression don’t understand is that it has little to do with “feeling sad.” Sadness is a flesh wound, a knife cut that might sting but eventually heals. Chronic depression is blunt force trauma to the head, locking you into a pattern of negative thought and throwing away the key.

On my quest to find a fix for my depression, I was shuffled from practitioner to practitioner like a poorly behaved foster kid. By the beginning of 2018, my psychiatrist said I had tried (and failed) nearly every class of drug aimed at treating depression. I was fresh out of options and desperate enough to try something more experimental.

When I decided I wanted to try ketamine, I went to the Menninger Clinic in Houston, a respected psychiatric clinic I had written about, to figure out next steps. I was an obvious candidate, as I had been on antidepressants for more than a decade and had shown little improvement; I just needed to be approved for the treatment after a consultation.

I met with Justin Coffey, the medical director of Menninger’s Center for Brain Stimulation Services, to discuss my history and we reached an agreement: I’d try two infusions of the drug, and if it had a positive effect, I’d do four more. At Menninger, this cost $600 for each session, and it’s not covered by insurance. If not, electroshock therapy would be my next step.

I arrived and got a basic work-up in the pre-treatment room. In addition to weighing me and taking my blood pressure, a nurse tested my reading ability, memory, and basic awareness (the date, where I was). Dr. Coffey came in to discuss what to expect over the course of my six treatments. That number is typical for this treatment, but because it’s still experimental, so is the number of doses necessary to work. Coffey was open to the idea of me needing more if six didn’t provide lasting results.

His frightening warning: Since ketamine is a dissociative anesthetic, I might feel like I’m leaving my body and experience a “bad trip,” as opposed to a more euphoric hallucinatory state. But if I were to go into this state, I could tell my nurse, who would stop the infusion or add a counteractive drug, the anesthetic midazolam, to lessen that effect.

The nurse inserted an IV and flushed it with saline to make sure it was flowing correctly; then we moved into the treatment room with its dentist-style chair for my infusion to begin. I would receive half a milligram of the drug for every kilogram of my weight, a very low dose compared to what recreational users inhale or inject. About 10 minutes into the treatment, the tree I was watching through the window separated into two. Soon, it was difficult to keep my eyelids open at all.

And then I was gone, down the rabbit hole of hallucination. My mind skipped through grid-style maps of city parks. I occasionally took a deep breath or wiggled my fingers just to remind myself I still could. I later learned that what I was experiencing is known as a “K-hole,” which is rare at the low dose I took.

Each infusion lasted 45 minutes. After my first one, I had a nurse play the cast album of my favorite musical as the drip began. Instead of running wild, my mind became immersed in the music, albeit in a deeply dreamlike state. Each time, it took about 15 to 20 minutes after the effects of the treatment wore off for me to be able to open my eyes and start walking. Afterward, I was exhausted. The half-hour Uber ride home felt like hours as I longed for the warm embrace of a nap.

Immediately after each treatment, I felt down. But by the time I woke up the next day, I was in less psychic pain and had more purpose. I would start the day on my long-neglected spin bike, feeling motivation that I’d lacked for months. Lunches with friends no longer felt like they existed just to show them I was still alive and making an effort to get out of the house. I was beginning to connect with the world outside my head again. I noticed myself smiling more. According to Shah, feeling the effects of ketamine within 24 hours of treatment is typical. “It is the most rapid-acting treatment for depression,” he said.

After the final infusion, I had the initiative to start writing again. The following week quickly filled up with activities, both work and fun. I was living for the first time in months. It’s been three months since my last treatment, and I’ve even started to feel excited about my future. Shah says I am unlikely to need another dose — I was in the roughly 70 percent who achieve remission after one series of ketamine infusions.

In technical terms, as I’ve said, taking ketamine had caused my brain to release glutamate, the neurotransmitter responsible for “excitatory” responses. But despite all his years of research into the drug’s chemistry, Shah admits, “No one knows the exact mechanism of any medicine.”

If I do need additional doses of ketamine, it probably won’t be an infusion. Thanks in part to Shah’s work, an intranasal version of the drug is expected to receive FDA approval as soon as next year. The side effects of the nasal inhaler, known as esketamine, are practically nonexistent next to the K-hole I experienced; patients would even be able to take the treatment at home. I’m a testament that it can work. And soon, ketamine will be accessible to people (who can afford it, since it likely will be expensive and not necessarily covered by insurance) who have all but given up on fixing their depression.

I had come to believe that my depression was a terminal illness. But the so-called party drug may have saved my life.

Alice Levitt is a writer and editor specializing in food and medicine. She is lucky to live in Houston, Texas, home of the world’s largest medical center.

First Person is Vox’s home for compelling, provocative narrative essays. Do you have a story to share? Read our submission guidelines, and pitch us at firstperson@vox.com.

Original Source -> “I tried ketamine to treat my depression. Within a day, I felt relief.”

via The Conservative Brief

[hyttesanger]

IV

If there's one thing Mijoo is being thankful for her nearly ten years experience of gritty training and, it's the extraordinarily keen senses and reflexes she gained, which makes it easy for her to detect the existence of people been spying over her for quite some time.

She prefer them not doing it on her work hours like now, though.

"Sajang-nim, I'm out for awhile." Mijoo chirps in her usual happy-go-lucky tone, taking off her mask and handing it to one of the server. Her hair is disheveled with sweat, the colleague of hers wrinkles his nose in disgust as Mijoo carelessly wipes it with her gloved hand.

"Yah! You've been working for just an hour!" Her boss barks, giving her icy glare.

"It's something very urgent. I'll be back in no time, don't worry, okay?"

Mijoo walks quickly past the park's entrance gate, if her intuition is right, there are approximately four guys trailing her in safe distance. She baits them to follow until they reach narrow backstreet where people don't normally pass, and those people finally make their appearances. What's surprising is, her stalkers are wearing neat attire, too neat for some low level fighters from the stage or thugs she had expected. There are five of them, all men in either leather jacket or suit, some even wearing shades and Mijoo feels like she's in the middle of shooting for cheap, James Bond rip-off movie.

Or maybe Jackie Chan. Because she's still clad in furry brown jumpsuit, complete with paws, and smells like bacon. This will sell as very funny comedy.

"Whatever you guys want, can't it wait until my shift's over? I'm kinda in a tight schedule now, you see, it's lunch time soon." She stops by the end of the passage, behind her is tall brick wall, so there's no way out. "Oh and I'd appreciate if you guys could tell me a little about this person who sent you—"

The men do charging forward against her instead of answering. Because, yeah, formalities are overrated, aren't it?

Despite months of absence from fighting scene, Mijoo still hasn't lose her touch, easily dodging punch after punch which are badly-aimed. She vaults over pile of empty beer crates abandoned on the ground, split-kicking two men at once, and flinging a crate at the other. The thin woods outright lands and breaks on his head, knocking him down unconscious.

"Welp. You're all pieces of shit." Mijoo seizes a guy when they're about to runaway, the one who seems to be the sloth of their team, by the back of his collar. Hurling him to the hard concrete, she stomps big bear foot across his chest, looming over him closely. Not a face Mijoo has ever seen before.

"Spill! Who is it? I don't remember having bad blood against anyone in the stage before." If it's someone from the stage, then it's weird. Why bother sending people and not face her by themselves? They might be illegal fighters but as far as Mijoo remembers the regulars on their venue don't lack the spirit of fair fight, so much to do such chicken act as hiring people to beat her outside the stage. It's also questionable if one of them had money to pay these high caliber gangsters.

"You're being deceived." The guy hisses. "That woman you're dating. She's married to her company's CEO."

Mijoo stills. Stares at her attacker as though he's grown another head and it's green, with antennas.

Then they seep into her, the words that guy just said. And it makes her want to vomit. She doesn't even notice when he's pulling out a knife, aiming it right towards her face. With barely a split second to evade, the sharp object succesfully slashes few inches of the side of Mijoo's face. She groans, staggering backwards, and the man takes it as his only chance to flee. Mijoo also doesn't bother going after him.

A moment later, she crumples down. Panting hard, cold sweat and blood running over her cheek.

Soojung's been married. What the fuck is that? ——————— Soojung frowns, leaning against the armrest of velvety sofa in Korean Air's premium lounge, scrolling randomly through her phone which hasn't rung at all today. It's almost midday, the people from airline just informed that her flight back home will be delayed for another hour. Right now, when she's terribly tired and in need for her dose of daily dumbness, Mijoo doesn't call or send her any message. She's also not the type who would make a call first, so all Soojung does is just huffing in annoyance every few minutes. The action makes her secretary's blood run cold. Her mobile does ring, finally, when Soojung is about to give in and write some threat message demanding some attention from that foolish girlfriend of hers. But it's from Burger Bear owner, and Soojung straigthens up in her seat reading the message. Good afternoon, Miss Lee. Sorry to disturb you, but do you perhaps know if something has happened to Lee Mijoo? She went for short break this morning and haven't come back until now. I haven't heard anything from her as well today. Can you reach her on phonecall? Nope, connected straight to voicemail. Actually I don't want to say this.. But I'm a little worried since I saw few people were following behind her when she left us few hours ago. ——————— Flight from Singapore to South Korea took a little over six hours, so it's already evening when Soojung reached Mijoo's home. Nobody answered her knock on the door, neither it's locked when she tried to twist the rusty knob. Walking inside, Soojung soon finds Mijoo on her usual old couch, curling into ball with knees hugged close to her chest and head buried in them. She wears a maroon sweater despite warm temperature in the room, its hood completely covering her face from sight. A metal ashtray is present above the table before her, filled with cigarette dust to the brim, few empty boxes and lighter from Soojung beside it. Soojung grabs the ashtray, throwing all the contents into trash bin below the desk. "You skipped work to smoke? Really?" When she gets no response, Soojung begins to sound angry. "Mijoo, answer me." She steps closer, trying to pull away the hoodie. "Hey—" "Don't touch me!" Another hand swats hers harshly as soon as it meets the soft garment. Soojung's eyes widen when the hood falls down, revealing long, dried wound along the left side of Mijoo's face, from the temple down to her cheek. "What happened to you?" "Go ask your husband. And take that lighter back, it's his, isn't it?" Clanking sound reverberates as the ashtray falls from Soojung’s hand to the floor. "He... He did that to you?" "You admit that you're married?" Now Mijoo's turning straight at her girlfriend, eyes hostile with rage and betrayed feeling. It takes long before Soojung finds her ability to speak back. "Where's the first aid kit? Let me tend that first, it would leave a scar if you ignore it any longer." ——————— "My parents' company went bankrupt three years ago. We'd been in the red for quite awhile, it wasn't so much of a shocker when that day we could no longer survive finally came. Had it not for his father's help, my parents most likely would be in jail right now. It was only natural for them to offer something in return. So they sold me to be his wife, then disappeared to somewhere even myself don't know." Mijoo doesn't flinch or even make any sounds when Soojung wipes her wound and applies an antiseptic ointment ever so carefully. Only her eyes move following whatever the older woman's doing. "It isn't hard, though. Last year he took over the whole company after his father decided to retire. Nowadays he's barely home and when he is, all he wants is sex. Maybe more on the rough side, but let's not talk about that." She finishes sticking two band-aids to cover the cut. They are cute, with tiny cats pattern, but sadly in this current situation, Soojung can't even laugh as she normally would, or ask how did those plasters ended up in Mijoo's first aid box. "To be honest I'm surprised he went as far as to send someone to did this to you. He usually wouldn't care anything about me." The woman sits so straight up on a plastic stool facing her girlfriend. Ironic. She remembers the first time confessing her feeling towards Mijoo in this very place. Now, she's readying herself for an upcoming break up, also here. "When you came here that night..." Mijoo begins tentatively. Image of bruised knee comes to mind. And few other little scars Mijoo sometimes saw here and there on Soojung's body, but too ignorant to ever ask. God, how could she'd never realized it sooner. "I really fell from stairs. Only, it was him pushing me off." Soojung tries to say it as lightly as possible. Yet the pain is there, behind her void voice. "Now think about it... I've never rejected him before. It's probably what had led him to think I have someone else, hence this attack." "It's just— After we began dating, I don't want anyone else to touch me. It disgusts me." "What he did to you is plain violence!" Mijoo snaps. Still angry, though it's for entirely different reason this time. "Having your name in his family register doesn't legitimate that! Why didn't you report him to the police and appeal for divorce?" "I can, but debt is still debt. He doesn't only have my name on his family register but also loan agreement paper. I'm getting pretty good salary every month and a position in the company which no one would ever be able to reach unless they have at least ten years work experience. It's wiser to endure this and save money until I can pay him, then file a divorce." "How much?" "Right now, it's about a little over four billion." "Four billion?!" When she asked, Mijoo was expecting the worst. But this is worst of the worst. "Christ, we're so fucked up." "Me, not we." Soojung corrects. "It's my problem, I wouldn't drag you into this. We should stop seeing each other." "What if I say I refuse?" Soojung blinks. "What does that mean?" "You dense." Mijoo clucks her tongue. "You're the one who'd stolen my heart and dragged me into your life, saying you like me out of nowhere, bossing me around... Now I refuse to leave like this. I don't want us to break up." "I—" But Soojung cannot say more. She looks away, biting her lips so hard it might bleed. Overwhelming emotions hit her like bullets, one after another. This is unfair. Why can't Mijoo just hate her? She doesn't expect love or deserve one. "Tell me one thing, Lee Soojung." Mijoo says. "Do you love me?" "Why did you follow me that night when you saw me going to the stage? Why did you stay even after you found out I was an illegal fighter? Why did you help me becoming a better person?" Soojung only shakes her head. Mijoo watches her face tenses up as she's gritting her teeth, her mask of unemotional slowly shatters. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop this. "Why did you ask me out? You knew that there's high chance things wouldn't go well between us, and that you couldn't keep me in the dark forever about your true self. Why did you still want to be with me?" "Because I love you!” She yells at last. “Back then I didn't want to fall in love, didn't want to feel this... feeling of needing someone. I'd given up and didn't want anything. But then you appeared, and I started wanting everything! For you to forgive me and accept me despite how broken I am." Pot calling kettle black, huh? Right now, Soojung feels no different than jerk of a man who'd taken Nicole away. Without her husband's wealth, she doesn't even have a single penny. "I was scared, you know? I was so scared I kept seeing nightmare of you leaving me!" Soojung's mind's clamoring with dark words; as soon as she blurts it out, more coming over. I'm filthy. I'm not worthy. Why would Mijoo even let me touch her? It's like all hell break loose. The more she tries to calm down, the more her heart rumbling. Until Mijoo springs off of her seat, doubling over before Soojung. She grabs her hands, kissing and squeezing them tightly like it's so precious and not stained with dirty lies. "Then it's enough..." The anger that was on those deep, dark eyes has gone. This time, it's a totally different gaze - it's sincerity and love. And letting herself submerging into them makes some sense of safety, of belonging, to fill Soojung's numb heart. "All I've ever needed to hear is you love me, and that's it, Soojung. Will you trust me? We can go through this together, or even if we can't, I'll sit in the dark forever with you. I'll never abandon you." And then, one idea presents itself inside Mijoo's mind.

———————

[oceansandroses]

Paris

So Im gonna write a basic travel thoughts page per place I went starting from Paris. I’d try to recall how lapland was too in hopefully future entries but so here goes!

Paris. 

The city of love and romance. 

But also sadly, the city of pee. 

No city smelt as bad as Paris did, each train, metro, bus and even at the Sacré-Cœur Basilique, with that amazing view, the smell of pee nvr left. Okay, I gotta try to start being more positive about things and stop looking at things from a negative point of view. But I really felt I had to get that point out. 

Great amazing things about Paris: the architecture stole my heart, it just enveloped my entire being. Everything, every place and every building or house was just so unique, tasteful and just a wonder to me. Each had their own flavor, taste and vibe. Whether was it a nice, quiet restaurant with people just sitting to people watch and chill with the oh-so-wonderful weather (it was a perpetual 18 degrees there, probably just 10 in the evenings) my down jacket was rather excessive but I guess it was alright, there were plenty of tourists in Paris that were cold even in that ‘warmth’-funny how Sweden changed me so much, to tolerate the cold. So the buildings were just so beautiful, I remember taking the train out of the airport and looking out of the window only to see many landed houses with different and varying numbers of windows. differently colored and different types of bricks or materials used in its assembly. I was sold. 

The weather as mentioned was great, warm and sunny, a nice warm but cooling breeze which Ale and I were really grateful for. Oh and Asian food!! On our first day there, besides having to skip going to the outlet stores because we didnt have much time to get from our airbnb to the outlets since we got pretty lost without internet (note to self to always get internet that works internationally) so we went to explore the city. Day 1 was lunch at 2/3+ before going off to see the Sacré-Cœur. The climb was alright but what made me weep tears of joy was my fav carousel right at the bottom of the basilique. The vibes of the place overall was really nice and pleasant. There were many people chilling, drinking a bottle of wine or beer or just chatting on the grass patch on the climb up the stairs to the church. Tourists were everywhere as with every tourist attraction but somehow the place didnt feel overrated. it wasnt swarmed with tourists and there was a unique and magical vibe to it. The street artists who were all around trying to earn their daily bread through caricature sketches, the nice restaurants that sold mussels and oysters in buckets at 14 euros (I was really so tempted). But there ale warned me about people who might pickpocket us, there were people who held different colored strings and she said they would hold the string out to us, the moment anyone touched it, they would ask you to pay them money or pickpocket us etc. It was kind scary but we hurried along. Oh, right at the top there was also a choo-choo train! it was pretty cool

Ale and I also bought 12 postcards at 2 euros yay! Next was the Arc de Triomphe, we managed to snap a few pictures but due to no reduced admission rates for us and to go up was 12 euros, I was pretty hesitant. Sharm did recommend us to go up but Ale said the weather was pretty cloudy and we prob could try tmr so we gave it a miss. From the Arc, we saw the Eiffel so both of us decided ourselves that it was quite near so we walked towards it. It was actually quite a walk but it felt kinda fun since we were ‘chasing the tower’ lol, always finding it amongst the buildings and its spotlight that shines throughout. The nightview of the Eiffel was really nice but there was not much magic vibes to it, maybe bcos it felt a lil overhyped. After which we got a little lost, took the wrong train from the wrong side and hopped on the dirtiest train i’ve ever been. The seats were fabric but they were so black and dirty. The red cushion seats were all blackish and they looked kinda mouldy. Much #grossness 

Anyways Ale always having a great directional sense brought us back to the right path after one wrong stop, and we met Sharm at Quatre Septembre to go hunt for some Ramen that people recommended her. It was a chinese-ran restaurant that sold jap food. The gyozas were good but the ramen pretty much tasted like yellow noodles in a chinese broth. The cha siew was good thou i must admit. After that we had Grom gelato (only bcos I said it was a good brand that Robz & I tried in Italy) before sharing a jar of 50cl of white wine. Ale taught me a bit of how to drink the wine while we sat under a heater in one of the most popular and happening streets of Paris. Oh another thing thou, Deliveroo exists in Paris and the delivery guys ride bicycles! So i guess it feels weird that with SG being a much smaller place, rarely do you see people in bikes as in bicycles but rather its just bikes and cars. #thatswhyCOEhighlor the green olives they served there was really nice thou, the black ones tasted like they were soaked in water or just oil. The olive oil in the black ones were barely visible.

it was a great chill hangout before we left and rested up for the night. We started our next day early with the Lourve tour which we paid 24 euros for but ended up feeling very disappointed and cheated since he just shared some short story about how this Lourve came about (from a small tower and a wall elsewhere) to this-he hates the pyramid design so obv not much talk was given about this pyramid before leaving us to walk to the entrance and enter it ourselves. #sobz #byemoney 

Inside the Lourve thou, it was a brand new story. We started off with the French sculptures and boy was it beautiful. Each sculpture felt like there was a life to it, its own story and feelings. Its lines were so beautiful, intricate and just so perfect in their own way. There were many students or people just chilling there and drawing life sketches of the sculptures. After that we kept getting lost but we saw the Napolean collection, the crazy Chandeliers around, the furniture before we attempted to see the French paintings. But bcos we kept getting lost, we ended up looking at the Egyptian collection. Much thanks to Ale for being alright to go to the Egyptian part of the museum with me. After the Lourve bcos there was free wifi, we decided to go hunt for bubble tea. We got lost and spent 1.5 hours around town before finding our Chatime! we had a crepe outside the Lourve too after getting lost half way and walking past it for like about the 3rd time. 

After Chatime, we went to primark to shop for a bit. The collection was rather big but okay ish like no feels to splurge on anything. We went to Bershka too before we rushed to the nearest post office to mail our postcards. The mail lady didnt speak a word of english and boy was she inefficient. She had to flip thru her stack of stamps thrice and recount sets of 5 stamps before letting us pay and all. 10 stamps were pretty pricey and costed me 15.8 euros but oh wells. crap I just realized I forgot to write daddy a happy birthday post card:( but wait its in April okay, ive got time. phew. 

It was a mad rush back home and we had to pass thru a black zone, there were so many blacks and police there, it felt like the entire atmosphere was really tense. The moment anybody made a mistake, the police were right there ready to arrest. We also saw some blacks making a living with a supermarket trolley as a bbq pit to cook kebab meats which I felt was pretty innovative and cool. I also love the buses here, uncles here stop when they see people running for the bus which doesnt really happen alot in SG. sigh. SG buses do come more frequently thou, but still that doesnt make up for bad behavior. 

After dropping our things, we took a train to the concert. Broods was the opening act before Tove Lo and i didnt do much research on her so I nvr knew Tove Lo was so sexualized. Every song she was shaking and grinding her hips to it and she eventually flashed her tits at the audience too. I bought an autographed CD from her but it was weird bcos while heading back Ale was sharing with me about how Tove Lo was being pretty illuminati and Satanic and that Beyonce was the head of the illuminati. I was very thankful for her religious sharig althoug I have to admit after hearing all that i was kinda scared. 

We ended the night cooking our only ‘meal’ of instant noodles before resting and heading to the airport by uber the next day. Thank god for uber for getting to our airbnb and to the airport. the public transport train ticket was far too ridiculous-10 euros for a single trip to the airport and we didnt even stay that far. Uber was just 11 euros per person-.-

Also pretty disappointed with the Paris duty free airport since the collection was so small, I couldnt get mommy’s and huijun’s clinique products. Ale and I each bought a crossaint there thou! It was really yummy

okay done for Paris its 1.45 in the morning here in LKP so im hungry and sleepy and tired and upset so i shld try to get some rest 

Ciao 

[failinginvestigativejournalist]

Dont freak out, itss just writing

i grew up fast (so fast) (too quick nigga) (wish i went through when i was just a bit bigger) can you tell me who the parent is uh ya the first time i drove a whip i was a fuckin kid, (96 suburban nigga) (yo yo, did you tell em why) oh ya shit my fault my mom was bleeding from her chin i dont know what from or what about, scared to death i took that drive to the ER (Medical SHIIIT) (mom got too drunk again and feel out) (wheres dad? in his room his doors locked, figures i dont expect, as i try to knock (no answer nigga) i dont blame em he removes himself from the sitiation so he dont hit her) ya i fucking grew quick, ya i fucking tryed some shit, the first time i dropped out and took some shroomies i was age 6 plus 6, thats 12 for the illiterates, actually aas a matter a fact it was fuckin pleasant as fuck as i drew back the droe and took another hit. now that i think that was the day, older brother came and gave me cig i obliged no way to say nay, i was still trippin and it was a sensational feelin, it left me stumblin and dizzy a head rush like no other i was hooked for live to the day and i dont blame him, i dont think he knew what he had started, adding to the compilation of the monsxter inside that took refuge and started, poison in his mind, the drugs altered his brain activity but he was buckled up and commited to the ride.Shit i just said in third person let me apologize to yall sometimes the ideas flow together like two fortune five mergin, these feels of hate be strong ya im hurtin, i cant blame no one, i cant choose the family i was birthed in, started sniffin ups felt my blood surgin, gotta big head but my nemisis, the evil inside myself was bigger aboutt the size of a white sturgeon, like some northern ish that canadain shit like british columbia or somethin idk, alls i can say is that BC bud out that bitch is my fav to blow, the sour D, diesel to be exact for you niggas who waana try to nit pick or correct my personal facts, let me just speak at you,  all the hatin niggas tryin bring me down, bad news, i do drugs like steve from fuckin blues clues, but my rents always on time when that xshits due, any ways i side tracked speaking of tracks just lined some shit up did with speed did with need i did it with tact, im dextrous and shit i always have a unique train of thought oh shit trains again trains derailed at this point hhaaha i crack myself up sometimes with the wit in my words leh-let you in on the pun so you can join in my fun, about the lines the lines are no more you didn arrive in time i promise these raps have rhythm they have rhyme i aint spittin to waste your time, i aint spittin to catch a dime, bag or bitch, it really dont matter, niether last long but they are still my niche, come here bitch come hit this shit, this time dont have a fit, mind over matter just stick yuh nose in these rails sit down for a bit, drink some wata, go to your happy place we are gettin to old for me to have tote on yuh just from hitten lines but i put up wit it, you got that 50 thou boat on yuh, not to mention your ride, that shit is so sweet i cant decidddee which id rather seed, as in inseminate with my seaman as i play the part as a seaman workin for seimans on a marine voyage i aint like you im a higher being, i dont know whatchu talkin whatch your eyes be seein i am a divine heathan i really cant fucking believe a niggas still breathin im a florida boy born and raised, i sit the fuck back drink my beer in the shade, high as i usually am a rinny tin tin rinscotts tale \down the rintin like a shark fin poatched by commercial fisherman thrown in a bin, no regard for life the human race is so greedy, people just aint my type, say what you want i know me best and i know im right. my creative talents on the other hand be outta sight, im my own worst enemy to cross the bridge pay the fee, trollin in the hood for that g, withdrawin, shakin i drop to my knee look up to the sky ask god if he sees. hear the sound of humming, huh must be bees, or im trippin out maybe its a flash back i dont remmember. whats th-this street, tremblin think my heat skipped a bit, or a couple shakinso bad my knes begin to buckle, anxiety can be dibilatated held me back from so much in life thers no debating. unfamiliar route. made it to this bar ordered a stout got to thinking, you may ask what about, this is why i like solitude to be on my own to answer to noone to depend on myself and live it to the fullest while im yung, my mind will reel, replaying all i know every single memory, that im capable of bringing back, i compare my brain to a file cabinet, i keep it hidden like in an office towards the back. A photographic memory is a gift and a curse, ill tell you whatat, if you dont keep it in check you will end up in a herse, sure you can remember the happy shit the good things in your life but you cant fucking forget the huge hits the fucking bad bitch the one who broke your heart? dounno how to forget you but i think i know where to start, i thought it was drugs, i numbed my body with chemicals little did i know with every shot the metaphorical shovel scooped out some more dirt from the inconcievable whole i fuckin dug. my life has been weird kinda like an opriental from a flee market an awkward rug, with no real spot in the house, was always the black sheep in the fam i tryed to tip toe as quiet as a mouse, some tom and jerry shit my mistakes and regrets cbhasing me around like tom the cat from that shit, I hide in my hidey whole, disconeected from any social environmeent i often found myself cryin, but self loathin is kinda like being a a gay with some dicks hes blowin, givin a ski job pitty is the lube hatred is the tube the vessel to carry out a deed the fags not sure about, hes experimentin comparable to some situations in my life cept wont catch me with two dudes in a shower, that was just a metaphor. you feel me? im sure the haters will hop all over that verse but just fuckinh hear me. I got my shades on and these bitches special, haters they block, they keep you no fun, sticklers out of sight out of mind like spf 75 sun block, that industrial shit, factory born hear the lunch bell on the horn, an  hour passes the busy bees come back to the floor to join the others to join the masses; the hoard., here the hum of the worker bees at work as they sneek rum in there flasks stuck it in to the hive got it past the queen time to catch a buzz to make this pain stop while i avoid the fuzz the narks at work, cant control it even if they wanted to stop. i dont want to hurt. this was a metaphor for the endless rut of a reality ive become accustomed to; succomed too, the low of the low. comparable to a german trench on the frontlines., my life feels like a conveyer belt, makin the same product running the same direction never really goiong any where, now thats was an analagy, keeping up? yung unsensitive how many? 0 fucks, 0 fucks giveen, 0 blights forgiven, spiteful to death and mornful for noone, nothing left inside just another no-go, malfunctioning product family be like feeling “ i feel like they robbed us” of our brother our son and our friend , dont worry fam im still with you in your hearts up to the end. im tired of our society with all its malice and fallacy, thinking to my self how sad it must be, to be washed in the brain to be hypnotized, this shits so insane.you want that shit super sized? of course nigga watchu you sayin. A glutonous society obsessed with self indulgence people actually still believe good people are in abundance. Speaking of which, fuck the people for a tec, have you looked around lately, this earth is a wreck, mark my words we headin straight for destruction, We are not being good care takers, we fuckckin actin so careless what doesdo the opeople in power really expect?? just pass it on to the next generation “ohh, its not our life time we will leave it for you” Thats a big fuck you to the generations after you undeserving self entitled fucks finallyy croak. get the fuck outa here, tell me when you sold your sold, you heartlesxs bastards would give anything for xsome more of that paper thgat rules all, the pressure you have put on everyone, no one is an exception, to support ourselves and loved ones to provide for our own and multiple other peoples nees, the urge to make money looms over our heads like a pestiliant storm cloud of angst and uncertainty, boreing a fucking whole in our moral, making peoplpe desperaate rising crime rates because people get desperate, people need to survive and they will do dam near whatever it takess to make the money they need, for whatever purpose.  ill whipe my ass with it throw in your cards i will win you better fold. i have freeedom, you ask what? anominity you fuckers, i can moldd my own life i have the freedomm of choosing, i certainly dont have to wait for legislation to pass a bill which you bribed for votes to do so anyways, to do something something much worse than im capabloe of ever doing, intentionally ruining the environment and turning our planet to mars just for paper with and idea (with a “hey, take our word for it, its worth something “””WE PROMISE”””” fucks) behind it not even gold bars, fuck you niggas mark my words illl bring all you mother fuckers down, ill run you fucks out of town, you hear that sound? its a train. its my passion and my determination to take you out, maybe ill use a fuckin plane? i mean its o.k. for the CIA to do it, right? Create this ridiculously elaborote ruse this plot, thyat fucking fooled all the ignorant and brainwashed americans you have already sucked in with your cancerous propaganda, kids lost to your bullshit through social media and the fucking criteria you make teachers teach young minds, we are taught from a very young age that “ huraaahh america is number one! Terrorists bad! Environmental destruction of a planet good!” how about we help some of the third woorld countries (which you know we wouldnt have to be gunning down women and children in the streets) we could just like give them the water they need? help them gentrify there communities teach them how to develop better skills, teach them more efficient ways to take advantage of their land, maybe bring some seeds to food sources that can be grown creating a bit of self sustainability that may not be indigenous but would grow in their country?? you greedy fucks just want oil, when we have enough in our reserves in alaska/canada to last north america 500 years falsey blame others, create an imaginary war “the war on terrorism, which infact is a fucking cover a false entity, to entice patriotism to loosely keep this crumbling empire together the last attempt, the only thread left in the button holding up the pants we call america, you forgot to tell the word all that shit is just whack  [ simply a meticulously pplanned and executed ploy to spur interests in the middle east, control the oil and power will return back east, return to u, Cause god knows you tax the fuck out of us for EVERYTHING especially mnother fucking gas, so we can pay for wellfare and pay for fucking solar power for rich fucks who e==inherited wealth, people who hdont know what working a day means and never will be, never had a problem, never been broke “oh shit my fucking croket set is missingg a ball” lose the pretense fuckers, you cocksuckers, arrogant low lives.. Money makes you any better then the hard working man that cover your tax breaks pay like our fucking ppolice forces (who are a bunch of ROTC drop outs with a badge and sense of power nnow being unfair and crooked taking some kind of revenge on the idea of the kids who picked on them all through out school” Motherfucker its harder to become a plumber, the learning and process is longer/more rigorous then a 6 month police academy which is fucking my lil pony world ( ith ink there is a fantasy kids show for my lil pony with their own fantasy dimension/world)compared to a military bootcamp.  A doctrine instilled to stop the spread of communisim wherever and whenever it may presenet itsxelf? when is the fighting going to stop in that area of our dying earth, thjey have been fighting eachother since lifes initial birth, what whoever was in power or in charge of trading the petroleumn to us wanted to charge an extra dollar 4 dollars  aBARREL instead of 3??? whaa you fucking greedy cunts,? so we invade and take control put there people on dog collars?? for wshat a dollar difference in productionfreedom of speech as you mothers suck the livlyhood from our home like a blood sucking leech, so careless, you know exactly what your doing, you just dont care it aint your problem your headin towardcs the end your death is brewin, well im the reaper of death cloaked in black i always get my man like a cold inwe can hardly co-exist and efficiently function. We are on world one love bob marley shit im getting tired of going throught the motions im all fucked up inside and shit. Early development can be a lynch pin. to either set a strong first corner stone, ceremonial placement of the first corner stone, free mason shit, corn and vegetable oil, so many customs and traditions are goin down a fuckin hill catch em rollin. Early  life is so fucking critical for a young kid, childrens minds are like a sponge they are looking up to their elders they are developing mentally they consume everything around them and retain more than you know, give your kids a healthy and stimulating environment and they will let there talents grow let there talents show let there brilliance flow let there inhibitions go, gone like dust in the wind, never catch em in trouble nothing, not one sin. They will begin to get older, be super organized, super focused for school, every class haxs a folder. As you watch them grow you will feel it in your heart you will fuckin kno, atleast you did this at least you used your parental guidance for good. when you die you know youll be missed, your kid dont throw fits, not one bit, hes such a chip off the old block that was cliche as fuck haha tuck em inh for bed his forhead you kiss. I just might fucking shed a tear, I cant fight this urge to drink a beer. I cant deny this fucking fear, I must look like just like headlights shinin onm a deer, jock strap aroun d my ankles, dumbfounded, look in  my eyes, perplexed, look on my face as it hits, you get a certain taste in your mouth this race is coming to a close suddenly your filled with doubht, seriously you should be care free, yuou did your duty as a parent, im jealous wish that was me, chill the fuck out go drink some fucking relaxing tea or something, sobrietyy seems to be a good mixture along with love and rationality to make a family function like a well greased machine, like a mechanisim freshly whipped down with some white lithium grease. tuned and ready to go, temped to huff the fumes and left everything go, turn your car on shut the garage door, let death grip  you, dont seem to care anymore, I cant change the past and i have no regreats, will i make it to thirty? “right over here people!” “place your bets!”, ill take my tickets to my Life Show and just scalp em make some extra cash, im already absent, so detatched;incapable of feeling. even if im there aint nothing going on emotionally in there (guarantee you im smilin an nodding i really dont give 2 fucks no more”, take that money right to the plug i promote fucking drugs not hugs, or why not both? why does the saying have to be one or the other when sxometimes its both you desire the most. Take the scalpin’ money from the tickets to the play of my life, go on down to the hood, pick up some bags mis amigos habla “Drogas” los hermanos tambien, this urge is hard to fight. Its a romance [a ritual of being, so0mething un explainable i wish i was never a part of, im always metaphorically bleeding. My poker face is strong, fuck showing weakness i alwayxs thought it was to show emotuion. wrong....... but its not, it can save your life, can \get you through, throw you a life jacket, get you out of that tide you fought, that frigid water no warmer than dry eyes.. Ive always been a loose cannon, I go with the flow, not lookin back, been chillin with the old heads they were suprisxed i could hang and, back to the point haha literally or figuratively is the question... im not gonna keep you waitin or leave yall hangin, i hate cliff hangers, make me wait 45 five minutes leave me jonesin’ its slow goin like grindin that ‘crete in the hangers polishin’ that baby out and coatin with some apoxy, its a process, i just get my drugs, whate=vers around and hit bangersz til i pass out, thatsx how my life has been goingg, i feel like im in the chambers just waiting to be gassed out. Flip the fuuckin switch you fuckin pussy end all this malcontent and hate, make itt black, eternal reest at loast.. dress me up real nice maybe a sharp vest, go through the processions and go through the motions fucking burn my body bitches, i want to be in the ocean ive always felt drawn to it, like an unexplainable,, unatainable unfakeable feeling or notion. im happiest sippin a coctail right by the ocean,  thats where you put me to rest... ill be pissed as fuck dont treat me like a fucking ruck; i beenn aroound, age is but a number, my knowledge is  vast and profound, ya thats right bitch im fuckin educated, know more tthan you will learn in your life time and im 20 years, old get what im sayin? i dont got a big heaad im actually humble,  just at my  breaking point. if i was a volcanoe you would feel the rumble; the pre-emptive signs of an eruption pre-determineed in the creator’s mind he took his divine time to find a wayy to grin away the time it took to find the book i bind when al i want is to be stress free and unwind but im the opposite wound up liike the grandfather clock i wish i could stop , the wheels are in motion the gears are set to full speed the feels keep comin i got this itch; this notion, this inkling to stop minglin, stop wastin my time with u useless fuccks. i think its time, its not the end my journey, just started this epic tale of sorrow, my feelings have departed, im fuckingg frozen over colder than ice, dry ice. cant touch me im full of hate and vice, addictive personality on a suicide mission like a ffucking missionary willing to die for his faithh,. i wish man willing to be a martyr for his religion.. ya bitch i smoke stoges in the hotel room just send the  bill to him if it comes to me itll end up in the fucking rubbish bin with a looggie on top coughin up brown shit to young for that talk, to young for heart disease pack and a half a day to try to keep my miind at ease, the stress is buildin im like a tickin time bomb, im so wound up like a clock rigged to blow mount vesuvius, a test nuke... the alarm is soundinn off. A  bright flash like a million lightning strikes, bout to pop off.. but atleast with style got my limited eddition nikes, listen to me i soound like them, listen to me bitching like a fucking fem, bottle it up, thats what society saays, male suicide is at an all time high like two polar opposites due to wed, its never gonna work im always going to be sad im always going to hurt, no fuck it, im a lock it up and throw away the key, im gonna forget about all this shit and be a fuckin G, be hardcore like the brothhers, leave bitches cryin in the street like aall our fuckin mothers, 32 degrees ferenhiet tatted on my left pec it signifies the tempture of my heart no longer warm and red, its frozen over, it hardly beats, that shit is smaler than the grinches, i turned into what they want me to be, a danger to society, getthe fuck outa myface before i shoo,t b, I got nothing to lose, living for nothing, nada, goose eggs nigga dont give a fuck reckless, no regard for life i dont give two fucks a partridge in a ghetto street, aint no merry christmas song, i like my biches thick and dirty wearin'n some fesh tomy thongs, i use em abuse and enthuse them then ruse thm excusse them fuckin confusethem "why you so distaant all of the suden" keep the vow of silence, like a monk on a holy missio, a friar on a divine quest, sending telepathic messages look into my eyes and see, get the fuck out i was never real these feelings meant nothing to me manipulator, manipulationist making up woprds never been a relationist, the masster of his craft a ventrilliquist or a puppet master you were to blind to see, mama was right just a socio path, ya bitch tell your 7 year old child that; see how long his chipper attitude lasts, im lower than nothing, not even a worm maybe i could bbe a fucking tick suckin blood, noting left of the kid i used to be, no more self worth, i cant love you when i cant love myself, how you expect me to support you when all i do is grab a spoon andd melt all the money thaat comes my way, a junkie, bum destined for an early  death and you think yous my bride to be, sorry hun you reaad me wrong, i know its hard cause bitches never know whats goin on inside my head, as i lay in bea,d staring off to somewhere, anywhere but next toyou, staring off into space thinking about my drug abuse, asking myself why, but i know the answer ready to die, but i think ill get a lapper frm one more danceer, i wanna go out in style, not som lame shit maybe go up to a mountain and stand on a cliff, look down, see wher im destined to end up as i take the safety off, finger carressing the trigger, a cool wind blows as i prepare to leave my loved ones bitter, surprised they sstayed aound thislong only ever let em down ever since i was young, never good enough always disappointing this rap comes so easily writing it like noothing, to get this off my chest as theend comes near, i shaped my own destiny i chose to die, now i chose to die here, fuk your beliefs and your faith in gods plan i took my life intomy own fucking hands, i think we all know einstiens theory of insanity, i been doin the same shit fr so long now exspectin shit to change and, i guess im insane.. i took my brilliiant, my sharp mind and put it to waste. its time to pull the inevitable, the good die young idk in this case if thats viable, im scummy i did whatever it took to get my fix to kill that pitt  in my tummy. i hurt people close, i stole from my famil.y.. its time to end it, like i caqme into the world, by myself always alone, soemthing that my father toldme that really stuck, its cynical as fuck, but he was right. he said stay out of the bullshit the groggy muck. Only lookout for yourself son, ive been arounnd awhile, [people dont give a fuck about anyone else they care only for themselves, in the end at the most critical time they will always choose them instead of some one else. We are alone in this wrld and its the hard truth jut learn not to ddepend on others while you are still in your youth, ive been fucked over to many times by people i thought i was very close to. now im out to get mines me and only me you and only you, get that fucking look on ur face sorry for beeing real and telling the truth, im trying to prepare your for whats ahead, im tryig to prevent you from depending on a brutus who will fill you with lead, stab you in the back for their own personnal gain, being to trustworthy is a heroic flaw like being egotistical, wanting to help your friends to much, being aragont ect. kryptonite to super man pease dont be batman and let it be yourr bane, bane as in the villian to let you know. im back, here are my words again not my dads, ji really do miss all the relationships i had, havent spoken to my dad in years tookk one for theteam stayed with mama dukese inj the ssplit to save faace, foir my innocent younger brothers. you know what shes also my motheer, shes not capable of surviving alone i didnt think i would abandon her ever i thought id never do that, i stuck with her out of evveryone, a family oof six she looked out for me in times of strife wish i could give her one last kiss, just shot my last 20 and i fucin missed, absesses dont matte any more i bet this 45 shoots true time for the finale,  no way i can miss, as the curtains close on my young life one last thought people really took to me, like white on rice, women were drawn to me the mystery i had them enticced, June baby as a cancer i am hard to understand i met a chick once who had a spot in my liifes bnd, she knew me we had a connection so much love we were never disrespectin im glad i could atleast i could teach hersome shit before she ripped my beeating heart out of my chest and stepped on it. Loved hermore than life and i still do i promised her one day i would find her and marry her, walkher down that isle say the words ido, she felt what i felt i know its tru, wasnt ready fgor commitment baby i wil alwayslove yo never orget you if i can i connect with you, like a disease i infected you i aways broght you downi was just baggage extra wait holing you down dragging around im glad youo saw through my snake charming ways saw me for who i was a bumm who couldnt change noot in a short number of days, someone so crippled by pain and grief it was beyond belief, she was the only one i wore my heart on my sleeve for , she lef me sobbinig, crrying violently without end in the door the doorway to more pain. i know she had no choice she had to live her lifee i was just in he way, i was obscuring her focus. eye on the prize isthe only way to achieve your goals and tnt them fuckin boulders, in your way, today i die babe, long time comin bet yall thought i was here to stay. baby l dontshed a tear kno i died drinkin a beer haha but nah you were my last thoughts thinking about all the time we spent getting lost in eachothers eyes and gettin so close we read eachothers thougts, illl miss or idk if ill be concious or just nothjingness, i guess ill fnd out when i finally stop being a pussy and proced with this, see ya velma ill always be your shaggy thinka bout me and dont forget what i made you see, in your self im just another memory on our shelf but let it bbe one thaat sticks we had somethingthat made ssense just clicks somethin that felt so right im really gonn miss, everythinig abnout you im sorry you couldnt trust me but i dont doubt why. i know the truth ive never denied a thing in my life, dont getme wrong everybody tells a little white lie, but you know what its a sign of intelligence not to be afraid to say idk not to lie for the hll of it. Ill see you soon in the nxt life or two i hope reincarnatiuon has a possibility of being true, godbye cruel world th ride is over it was a hell of a whirl, i leave you with absolutely nohing conntributted i was just a part o the cancer people had to live with, butnever acknowledgedd, acted ignoant to ther surroundings as daddy paid for college, i burned bright and hot and had a lot of fun, i had alot of life experienc got alot of shit done, nothing productivee of course in ssocieties eyes but i did fullfill atleast some personal goals, important things in my eyes, the curtains are almost done descending as my pittiful life is ending, but keep your pitty mother  fuckers i dont want shit from any of you i dont give yoou nothin dont be so self righteous you look like a bunch of fools, greive for me or celebrate my life i guess its on you how you chhoose to rfemmeber a nobody that nobody knew, a couple feet before the curtains drop, is that? myy eyes decieving? me? no i do see that a single rose descends from the skies, i stare intently at the work of art, a rose is soo beautiful, a representation of love, from the heart, so delicate with its velvet petals, easily ruined a boket wouldve been nice, but who am i fooling, thats a beautiful thing, that was really nice. the product bubbles as i take my last hit of ice, cant takemy eyes off that rose.. its so beautiful... the gun on my forhead now, looking at each individual pedals.. dew from the early mornin forming a small puddle around that naturral phenom, that iconic organic, spectaacular symbol of sometthing real, somethin that matters, something sensual. 

As the bits of his brain splatter behid him, arms spread; with grace, almost angelic.he falls off the ciff a hundred feet now for falling, weird but there was a look of peace in his eyes; on his face, maybe he wll finally find happiness.. he fell with nobility and so much grace the floor he hit, his finall restingplace, what cuold be a better box then a natural setting, a  beaauty of nature, crawling all around and he will return to the earth, the mother wll  take him back just as she gave birth, i thinnk this shit is over now its not my story to tell, inside voices kids no reason to yell. shhhhhhhhhhh. 

dont depend dont believe the [enter here]