#makes me feel unseen and unappreciated

[cat-eye-nebula]

A common dynamic between avoidant attachment and anxious attachment. (Video by Psychologist Dr LePera)

[sepublic]

The Collector’s story is so sad to me because they really do try!!! They are putting in the effort to be better!!! They defy the other collectors’ policy of imprisonment and genocide, for the sake of the Titans! They go along with Philip’s plans, giving him the draining spell and a bunch of other magic! And they listen to King’s Owl House rules, they’re gradually adjusting their behavior according to his advice, respecting his boundaries, even letting him get away with Eda and Lilith!

He’s learning. He really is doing all he can to improve, he’s listening. But the Collector isn’t doing it fast enough, they haven’t figured it out quickly; So it feels like for the adults and everyone else around them, they don’t want to put in the effort to teach and rehabilitate this kid. That’s too long and arduous, it’s much easier to stick him in a prison and hide it, or even kill the kid.

The Collector invests so much good-faith effort into changing for people, but those around him? They don’t want to reciprocate the same effort to understand him in return, that’s how it feels. They demand so much but give nothing back, use the Collector. And would rather take the easy route of punishing the kid to make him shut up for their convenience, instead of really working to talk with him at his level, and explain how to get better. There’s this silent, genuine, hurt and confused question echoing from the Collector; “What did I do wrong?”

It really does feel like one big metaphor for neurodivergent kids, and children in general, who are seen as misbehaving troublemakers. And rather than taking the time to understand their perspectives, and communicate to them about the problem, adults would rather just hit them until they’re quiet.

Because it’s easier, more convenient that way, like sweeping dust under the rug. Even if it just makes this kid who IS willing to improve feel neglected, unappreciated; Allows their problems to fester untouched and unseen, until it boils over and explodes later in life. And suddenly adults are all shocked because He was such a quiet, obedient kid, who could’ve seen this coming?!

The Collector feels like the collective wrath of so many kids who were treated like inconveniences to deal with, rather than growing children who needed help and guidance. And boy is the Collector messy about it, because they’re tired of playing by other people’s rules and trying to appeal to them with good behavior, in exchange for compassion, because that clearly hasn’t worked out and never will.

They are every child who has asked Why about a rule, and instead of being treated like a person with an honest need to know, was just told Because I said so. They want to get it, but people just prefer them being blindly subservient; People don’t care what the Collector thinks, so why should he feel the same for their judgment? The kid is panicked when he insists King focus on the revision he made to the storybook, the lesson he learned, but he’s still being put away for what others wrote.

“You can trust me” is something Philip and King have both told them, and maybe that parallels how adults insist children follow their seemingly arbitrary rules even without knowing why, because “It’s the rules” and authority dictates all. So after struggling under that command, of course the Collector is eager to be the one wielding it this time, with his rules...

The rules of a game. The rules of behavior. Both are laws dictated for people to follow, with someone often deciding and being able to change them as they see fit, especially with childrens’ playground games. Life is a big game and the Collector wants to play his own, after all this time following others’ rules; His people’s, the Titans’, Philip’s, and finally King’s.

There’s a lot to be said about how we expected the Collector to have been someone who didn’t play by any rules, did whatever he pleased. But it might just be the opposite, the kid has never had true freedom, always subject and listening to what someone else tells them, because they’re in charge or it’s the moral thing to do. They’ve been imprisoned their whole life, literally even, and now their desire for agency has burst free.

The Collector wasn’t the god of chaos we thought they were, but now they will be and we’ve seen why; It’s not because there weren’t any rules for them, it’s because there were too many, and the more you tighten your grip, the more something slips free. Too much authority, too little, the kid needs a proper balance of contradictory lessons, like so many in this show...

[astro-royale]

ASTRO Observations Pt:5

Personal observations

- A way to win any fire sign is to flatter their ego like no tomorrow

- Water signs usually need to feel like they need you in order for you to become special and irreplaceable to them

- Air signs show love through consistency

- Earth signs need people who bring them novelty and that bring them out of their shell, but not overstep their boundaries

- Earth sign women often have gift-giving/receiving as their love language

- Air signs seem to appreciate hand made gifts,

- Women with fire placements can fall for narcissists as it makes them feel like they have a ride or die dynamic with them

- Earth sign men are hardworking yet don’t mistake that for generosity. Because the hard work can make them bitter. It really depends how evolved they are as people but they can hold what they do for you against you.

- Water sign men tend to be the most unconditionally giving

- Air sign men can be extremely delusional and arrogant at the same time to the point where the audacity will shock you

- Libra Ascendant attracts attention like moths to a flame

- I’ve met multiple Aries Moon people with significant anger issues to the point where it affects their health

-Earth signs are some of the most unappreciated in relationships , where efforts go unseen. Earth signs are also the type to sacrifice themselves as a way of showing love and the person won’t notice it, and if it is a more evolved earth sign you may hear them talk about their struggle with boundaries in terms of this.

If you wish to support my work, you can leave a Tip by clicking the Tip button in my bio, or you can cashapp me £astroroyale, Thanks :) !

[niuniente]

I don't comment often bc I usually don't have anything specific to say and don't believe in speaking filler words that don't actually mean anything. You aren't entitled to comments or positive feedback that people don't want to give, just as the viewer not entitled to art you don't want to make or publish. Hope you get over yourself soon!

So you rather not say even "Thank you for this fic" but you take it and go away? Because you don't care about "filler words"? Because they don't matter to you, then it POSSIBLY can't matter for anyone else either? Because we're all you, right?

No one is entitled to get feedback from anyone - or like Danny said, you don't need to say thank you for anyone, but if you don't just because you don't feel like it, well, you're a jerk - but no one is entitled to just take and not even say "thank you". In such a case, you already have made a decision for an other person that the author, the artist, the gif maker, the plushie maker, the cosplayer, the voice actor, the youtuber etc. doesn't need any feedback. If that isn't entitled, then I don't know what is.

I don't personally care if I get comments or feedback - if I don't get them enough or I feel what I'm giving out there not worth of my time and effort anymore, then I just stop doing and sharing it. Very simple. This is not itching my ass but I'm speechless how self-centered some fandom people are like "Well, I don't feel like doing it". Don't do it then, no one is forcing you, this isn't any fandom oppression for fuck's sake, but don't complain either if people stop giving your fandom new things because they feel unseen, unappreciated and like screaming into a black hole.

You do not get to decide for other people that this or that can't be important to anyone else because it is not important to me. That's some right wing, capitalistic rhetoric; I have no personal need for housing for homeless, so this can't be important topic for anyone, so I don't support housing for homeless. Homeless people can stop whining and be grateful for their cardboard boxes. No one needs to help homeless people. They need to get over themselves.

Different topic, same ignorance at the core level (albeit homelessness is a much more serious issue than fandom ignoring other fandom people).

Sure, everyone can be as much of a jerk as they ever want to. Ignore others as much as they ever desire. No one's stopping them. Does it create a positive, supportive environment for new things to bloom and people to be happy? Well.....

[loomisadvocate]

hi again

i doubt anyone will read this, seeing as i dropped from the earth for literally a year or two. it's been a long time since i've been around on here but even when i was, it wasn't for long. this is essentially going to be half vent/announcement ?

first, i want to say a huge thank you to the people who messaged me to see how i was doing. i just responded to them, after a year, and it was so kind of anyone to even think about little old me. it's been a very hard year. not just for me, but most people. i've been doing a lot in terms of getting back to myself and trying to manage life while dealing with some pretty earth-shattering feelings.

if anyone takes anything from this post, take this: you deserve the love and care that you give other people. i neglected myself for so long it all finally caught up to me. i was forced to really sit down and think.. what do i need to be better? i think i'm back in balance. as i write this i'm (ironically) coming off of a huge tiny emotional breakdown - you know, that mid-week everything is so overwhelming breakdown. and i thought why not check in and see if anyone was still reading.

that being said, i honestly HATE the writing i've posted on here. it's just not a reflection of the work i know i can put out. to the people who have expressed interest and enthusiasm about 'the inevitable' please know it is not going unappreciated and unseen. i just know i can do better. i think writing again will be good for me. i will either revise everything or maybe start completely fresh. who knows.

if you made it this far, please remember that all we have in this life is our one body, one mind, one heart. please take care of them delicately. pay attention to your feelings. set those boundaries you've been too afraid to set. do things you like to do even if people make fun of it. just live, and do it for yourself. i'll get off my soapbox now, but i did warn you this was mainly a vent post.

thank you for the love and for reading (if you did). here's to more creating and more living <3

it feels bizarre putting tags on this

[thorraborinn]

i follow odin (NOT as a folkish/odinist freak, to be clear), which often feels like it raises some weird conflicts as a newbie anarchist. like, considering his whole. situation it seems likely that pops up there would happily accept cops, fash, etc. into valhalla, if only to pad out the troops, yknow? it doesn’t seem like he goes out of his way to only ghost-enlist good drengir or anything. you ever think about that? what’s your outlook on valhalla in general?

Yeah, you hit the nail on the head. There's a real contradiction here. A lot of people are going to have different ways of dealing with this, and yours might be different from mine, but I'll share what I can and maybe it'll help.

I guess I should be up-front and admit right away that I don't believe in Valhöll. And I'm glad I don't believe in it, because I also don't like it. I think it's better to just state that outright than to do what some heathens do and either reinterpret it until it's something that makes sense to them, but barely resembles any of the sources about it; or try to argue that "real" heathens didn't believe it themselves (surely, some did and some didn't). We're gonna have contradictions and differences with each other and with our predecessors because we have no centralized religious authorities, and this is all a good thing as long as we can be cool about it and respect difference.

Side note: while I personally don't think it's helpful to reinterpret Valhöll into a place where the downtrodden get rewarded for all their unseen and unappreciated struggles and sacrifices, I at least have more in common with a person who does believe that than with someone who actually believes in the Eddas' description of Valhöll and thinks that sounds good.

Disbelief doesn't get me out of needing to think about it, it just moves the problem. If what I believe is that it's a projection of the ideal life of the aristocratic warrior conqueror, I can disbelieve in Valhöll but still have to deal with the aristocratic warrior conqueror who was a historical reality. Obviously Valhöll is the one thing everyone "knows" about Old Norse culture and it completely dominates the discussion about afterlife concepts but let's think about why that is. Our main sources of information about the mythology at all were produced by the same group of people that Valhöll was most relevant to: the warrior aristocrats who laid the groundwork to establish the kingdom of Norway. The whole thing is an extension and idealization of their way of life, running on magic rather than the slaves, farmers, other workers, and women with rare exception, whose work was needed to keep the aristocracy afloat here in the living world. We don't get nearly the same volume of myth that might have been more relevant to those slaves, farmers, other workers, and women. As much as that sucks and isn't fair to either them or us, it's the reality, and we're better off accounting for that absence than ignoring it.

I don't actually think someone consciously invented Valhöll, I think one root of it is extrapolation from an idea we see elsewhere, that a person's experience following death is somehow continuous with the manner in which they died. So someone who drowns in a shipwreck has an afterlife in the sea; Hel might be characterized by illness and famine because those are ways that a lot of people get there. I expect that the idea of Valhöll started out the same way, that people who died in violent conflict remained in violent conflict after their deaths. In that case it isn't inherently a reward or punishment, and its later glorification comes about because the tradition passed through many people who glorified violence. I also think that a lot of what we think we know about it was actually embellished in retrospect by the Christian descendants of these people, and was probably done in such a way as to exaggerate the manly valor of anyone who would consider being hacked to death every day until the end of time a sort of "heaven." But we also shouldn't rule out the possibility that heathens themselves developed it as they developed their own identity in contrast to Christianity.

But once it emerged into the ecosystem of spiritual beliefs it probably served a bunch of needs that would have solidified its position. As many have pointed out, it probably helped people deal with the fact that they'd never see their dead children or even be able to give them a proper funeral in accordance with whatever their local custom was, including offering grave goods and putting the remains with the rest of the family, or somewhere accessible in the landscape. The aspect I've usually emphasized is that it was probably extremely useful for warlords who needed to convince children to die for them. Around the turn of the millennium it may have become more relevant to make promises of a good afterlife, as Scandinavians became increasingly aware of what Christianity was offering. Indeed, since we get some indications that some Norse people believed in reincarnation, this might be the time period where the concept of the afterlife being permanent consolidated.

Fortunately we do actually get an alternative view of something very similar, but from people embodying a different ethic. Þórólfr Mostrarskegg was a wealthy and powerful aristocrat known for his generosity in Norway during the time that Haraldr fairhair, the semi-legendary first king of Norway (and a central figure for the warrior-aristocratic context we're examining), was expanding his empire. Þórólfr harbored a fugitive (Björn Ketilsson) who had been declared an outlaw by Haraldr, and as a result had to flee Norway himself, choosing to uproot his own life and lose a great deal of his wealth and power rather than fail to offer aid to a fugitive. Þórólfr and his entire homestead fled to Iceland. He was kind of an over-the-top blowhard but continued to be known for his generosity. His son Þorsteinn took over the farm when he died and took after his father. It isn't specified that Þorsteinn had a specific habit of freeing slaves, but it is said that he had a retinue of some 60 freedmen. When Þorsteinn died, a shepherd saw the mountain Helgafell ('holy-mountain'), near Þorsteinn's farm, open up to reveal a huge feast and celebration happening inside, and he saw that Þorsteinn and his comrades who had died with him were going to go sit down across from his father Þórólfr. To be clear, these guys were still aristocrats. The ability to free slaves means they also had the power not to, and I don't want to romanticize these guys. But they still rejected violent conquest and chose personal loss for the good of others, and the afterlives they're depicted as having (basically Valhöll but connected to the land they lived in, and without all the violence and weird class elements) is surely related to that. This is all part of Eyrbyggja saga (no, it may not be reliable historical fact, but it is how they were remembered, which is important for its own reasons).

So I guess the reason I'm bringing this up is that we're all pretty good at reminding each other "there were a variety of beliefs" but we don't always have an opportunity to examine what they actually were, and what there position was in an ecosystem of beliefs, symbolic power, social values, political conflict, etc.; or why some of those beliefs were more likely to be written down, copied, and selected as important by later authors.

There's also a contradiction here, because Þorsteinn drowned while fishing. If Norse people all had the same concept of an afterlife, he should have gone to Rán in the afterlife, but they didn't all believe the same stuff. There's also one thing about these guys that might make the example less helpful -- in case you couldn't figure it out from their names, they were super into Thor specifically. We don't get a lot of examples of regular people who worshiped Odin, he wasn't big among the people who went to Iceland whose experiences were written about by their descendants. If we had something like the Icelandic sagas but for Denmark, maybe we'd have a broader and more nuanced understanding of these things.

I guess to summarize the main point I'm trying to make so far is that we don't need to turn off the criticism for something just because it's projected into the realm of the supernatural or afterlife or whatever, considering that the actual once-living people those ideas come from are subject to that criticism. Heathens have a really bad habit of acting like they believe there was, like, a cohesive Old Norse Religion and if we're to belong to it than we're handed a predetermined package of beliefs, and a lot of the arguments and discourse are about what's in that package. But that just isn't true. A lot of the lore we have has more to do with regional rulers trying to one-up each other, which generates change and innovation rather than being a witness to what came before them. And some of it is even shrouded in the same fake conservatism, the same "back in the good old days when [thing that never happened]" that we still have today. I have a lot of other thoughts about Valhöll so if any of this is confusing or if it would help to go deeper on something I've said, let me know, but this is getting unwieldy now.

I think there's more to be said about what an anarchist is to make of Odin in general (in addition to what I've already said), but my thoughts on that are less cohesive and I've come to fewer conclusions. In some cases we may be better off sitting with those contradictions than trying to resolve them. One thing I'll offer is that I think that when the gods do unambiguously bad, twisted shit in myths it's because it's supposed to hurt. Like, I think it's supposed to feel like when you yourself think about a time when you've done something fucked up and repeatedly ask yourself why you did it or why you can't go back and do it different, because the only way to give those moments any kind of meaning is to be transformed by them into something better than you previously were. Some of Hávamál is even explicitly framed as hoping the audience will learn from Odin's own fuckups (Háv 11-13: "Don't drink too much"; Háv 13-14: "There was this one time when I drank too much...").

I tend to interpret the Ragnarök story as being about how allowing the breakdown of communal relations based in mutual respect and solidarity, in favor of personal advantage or even out of a sense of duty, inevitably leads to total system collapse, ensuring that any "victory" is Pyrrhic; and about how literally having this spelled out for people won't necessarily prevent them from rushing headlong into it even in their attempts to avoid it. IMO, it's a mythic playing out of ideas and emotions that pertain to living in a blood-feud culture, where honor fuels an engine of ever-escalating violence that leaves no room for anything but tragedy on every side, often in the name of "doing the right thing." (incidentally, the Haudenosaunee Great Law of Peace is the product of peoples who grappled with the same problem, but actually made it out to the other side). If that's true, then not only does Norse mythology not present a single, coherent, monolithic religion; it actually contains within it, along with lot of other, sometimes conflicting things, a desperate grasping toward something better, and any modern person whose identity is formed in relation to them is also taking on a responsibility of carrying that on. Anyway I'm definitely in the weeds now so I better stop but the stuff I've described in this paragraph is kind of constantly running in the background whenever I read about Odin as a narrative figure and is the more religiously interpretive side of why I can't with any einherjar=good.

[sloppy-sybarite]

I love to talk, I love to listen, and I love to learn. It’s easy for me to sit and listen, ask questions to show I’m following along, pretend that I’m dying to know more, and seem engaged and down for whatever interaction is going on. I like to joke that one of the things that’s helped me most is being able to make men feel like we have sort of an exclusive connection; it’s not hard to make a man who feels unseen and unappreciated feel like he’s understood by you and it’s not hard to give him a little bit of nurturing. Lean in, play with your hair, make eye contact and drag your gaze, and let yourself relax. You want to encourage positive interaction and talking, you want men to tell you things and let you into their worlds, and you want to be seen as someone who they want to see more of and get to know even better.

[fringeexistence]

I come from a very long lineage of evil souls. And I am all-powerful. Fear does not exist for me. I do as I please in plain sight, so obvious, yet unseen by everyone. I am immensely proud of the work that I do. I am skillful and diligent during the activities that I partake in. I enjoy inflicting misery and dread that seeps from your pours as I slowly take away your life's energy, which in reality, is only a grand and beautifully constructed illusion of flesh and bone.

I giggle when you scream; sometimes I even like to scream along with you, especially when we're downstairs and the acoustics are echoing just right for the moment. There is an excitement that I can feel all the way inside my anus while you are hyperventilating from the loss of physical control. It is exquisite to watch you in those moments between torture and death; your purgatory I call it. I know, I know, the clock is ticking away for both of us too quickly almost. This dance of victim and predator will fall prey to the inevitable "time's up" soon again. Always too soon, and always at your expense. Poor thing. It cannot be any other way though. Blame God for that one... creating linear time and all. Oh, how I love how desperation shows itself through your physical body, the perspiring skin and dry-mouthed screams. Yes, I do my job well. God gave me the gifts of patience and a conditioned psyche, so that I may be able to enjoy anything I decide is worth the trouble and hard work to prepare for.

Like the way I am able to dismantle a human body so skillfully and carefully, never making much of a mess and always cleaning up after myself. Nothing can be overlooked. There is no room for stupid mistakes. I would die if ever caught from a broken heart. Yes, I fell love with you, at first sight, just like all the others when I realized that they would be the one. There is love before and after the dance of death ensue. Every time.

Do I realized what I am doing>? Oh yes, I know what I do and I remember every one of you with pride. I know that I create a trivial feeling of loss for the families, but there must be sacrifices in everything that is accomplished. I find that aggravating to a great degree.

Honestly, I can't be held up by anything that keeps me from what I was meant to accomplish. Like the women I take without permission. Like you. You become mine when I say so.

If you must get technical on the whole fucking subject of my slayings as the papers call my art work, I would say that I am not hurting anyone, really. This is my solipsist existence. It is all subjective and there is no guilt that remains afterward. It warrants me completely blameless in this world I am in. You are all illusions that my conscious imagination has created. It is perfect for my conscience, if I even have one. None of this is real. I just explained this to you. But if it were... hmmnn... would my deeds really matter at all in the sense of morality and ethics? Probably not, but let me finish what I have to say as this is so very boring to speak about.

Tee hee... I would rather talk about the art I create with your bodies. Absolute beauty in its carnage. Awww c'mon. Don't cry. This makes me angry and... you know I would rather be jovial while I work.

I know my artistry isn't appreciated as it should be but I have learned that the distaste others experience is a sad situation and I shouldn't take it personal. They all know, the cops, how talented and smart I can be of they only gave me a chance. I feel for the unappreciative ones, honestly.

The history I have made with my bare hands is profound and like no other. I am unique in the ways I have taught myself to preserve my bodies, Ohmy love. Oh no! I have never used weapons when hunting the next prized beauty. My hands do the work just fine and I love to feel the different textures of your skin and tendons and such.

Guilt? No, none there either. I remain clear and calm on any given day. I sleep like a baby without nightmares ever since I began my quest for control and ownership. I reap no after effects. They say one should not mix work with fun, but you should give it a try before you make a judgement.

Mmmm. I often replay how I smear the clotted blood over my chest, feeling its warmth and it comforts me while I wait for that pungent and lingering aura to hit my nostrils. And the taste... like mother's milk for me and only me, except for God, of course.

This is my world and God and I are the only ones existing in this cesspool of a world. We are connected. Do you hear me?!! So sorry. I didn't mean to yell outside of my mind. Where were we?

Yes, this is our own private theatre, the two of us, and the actresses do not need scripts as they are only a mockery of real people; for me to obtain some sort of experienced reality. A movie chosen by Gods will and imagination. He gets to be a part of it too, experiencing everything I do to them from the background, vicariously living through me. It is a shared experiece by all accounts. It's a shit show for the only two entities existing, living out a movie of our choice. For entertainment and bliss. This couldn't have been a more perfect screenplay for our entertainment.

Tomorrow I will try some new tactics to up the odds. It should be fun. You'll see, my lady. Now, where were we?

Day 2047 down.

[21stcenturyschizoidcat]

Writing Autobiography 2:

Electric Boogaloo

(An essay written for a college class about writing)

As a lazy person, I often find the first draft will also serve as a final draft. Is it a weakness? Perhaps, but so far “good enough” has been good enough for my studies. I host a weekly radio show on WHIP, which is not scripted: I plan my music program ahead of time, then using my pre-existing knowledge of my song selection to fill in the gaps. I know that my argument and debate skills are (to be generous) lacking, but I feel that my off-the-cuff conversational skills are adequate, even if I need to pause to find my words every now and then. Thus is my internal justification for my lack of revisions, since I can usually pull something that reads well off on the first try. I think the reality of the situation is, however, that I am also just naturally lazy. Efficiency? Laziness? Both I feel are interlinked.

Do I like writing? I think so. I enjoy writing poems and lyrics, as well as the occasional narrative story, but often I find my problem is that I am without stories to tell. Among my best writings is my radio drama adaptation of The Shadow Over Innsmouth, but it is based on the H.P. Lovecraft novella of the same name. I wrote one of my few original stories as a fictional retelling of my experiences riding my bike home through the night time of Ocean City, New Jersey, after being freed from my seven-to-three shift at one of the Wawas on the island. Often on those deserted nights, whilst doing the cleaning at Wawa, I would hear the howling of the wind outside and see reflections in the windows I would mistake for people. Whatever physical layout that Wawa had made the swirling winds low and deep, as though it were the groan of some great, wretched beast in the distance. I was listening to a youtube channel around that time by the name of Lazy Masquerade, which consisted largely of readings from macabre tales, true crime case files, cryptid showcases, and other such spooky substance. The cryptid stories, particularly those of Skinw*lkers frightened me deeply, making those thirty-minute, three A.M. bicycle rides a treacherous endeavor, especially combined with the path I would take. The path I most often found myself riding would take me through a small nature trail, with houses and grass to one side and marshes on the other, with lights illuminating roughly two-thirds of the trail, leaving the final third drenched within what must be some of the deepest darkness on the island. When I would be allowed to leave work at six A.M. after starting at ten P.M., however, I would be met not with darkness and fright but rather with an exceptionally large number of rabbits hanging about.

I took my experiences and fears regarding those dark rides home and wrote a short narrative based on pretty much exactly that. I used my own experiences to try to build tension so that the only fictional part of the narrative came at the end, when I conjured my own demise at the hands of an unseen monster screaming with my voice. With that tale, I had to do very little conjuring to create what I felt to be a compelling and eerie story. My trouble comes with knowing how to construct a longer, more fleshed out story. Why should these characters do the things they do? What are their personalities? How do I keep plot momentum going?

In books, it seems, there is an unappreciated amount of things happening most of the time. Among the biggest flaws of my writing is, I think, the amount of describing I do. When it comes to dialogue, I never know how to blend the two naturally, which I see in so many novels. A full book, though, a full book has so much information in it, whether that information is narrative or informative. When I write, I find that each scene I write only lasts a short time, so I feel like if I were ever to write a whole book or script by myself, I would need to either create a long series of short shallow interactions, or find a way to add more substance and length to my writings.

I recently (last night) watched an independent movie by the name of Emesis Blue. An animated movie made using free software and mostly pre-existing assets from a handful of video games, and tells a story within the universe of one of those video games, Team Fortress 2, a game I myself am a fan of. The story is a horror story that blends influences from the video game it takes place within, various works of Stephen King, Stanley Kubrick, and Quinten Tarentino, and other more specific movies, such as Fritz Lang’s classic M and the modern horror The House That Jack Built. What I took away from the movie, besides it being very good, is that the film is a congregation of influences that are worn rather blatantly on the sleeve, but entertwined with creativity and love. The concepts explored in the film are all very clearly drawn from these earlier works, but are utilised in such a way to make a piece of media that is utterly novel and unique in the modern mediascape.

With my songwriting, I have been influenced by a number of musicians. Chief among them are Neutral Milk Hotel. Neutral Milk Hotel’s lyrics are strange, the chords are simple, and the emotion is high. The lyrics often create a beautiful series of images which, while not having much meaning literally, often act as transposed dreams, abstract thoughts culled from the author’s subconscious. Otherwise, the lyrics act as literal metaphors, so that the act of reading The Diary of Anne Frank is written variously as “And from above you how I sank into your soul / Into that secret place where no one dares to go,” “How I would push my fingers through / Your mouth to make those muscles move / That made your voice so smooth and sweet,” and “And in the dark, we will take off our clothes / And they’ll be placing fingers through the notches of your spine” among other strange metaphors. The resulting album is a beautiful, kaleidoscopic collection of intimate imagery indubitably conveying the author’s heartache at the horrors of the Holocaust and the death of Anne Frank.

I confess, my own lyric writing has often been confessional, as I use my music as a tool to work through personal conflict within myself. I wrote the song “Bisquit” about the kind of discomfort I felt from my mother, and I wrote multiple songs about my disdain for my hometown and my desire to become a wandering vagabond. What I noticed is that the lyrics I find the most satisfaction with are the ones I write while incredibly sleepy, which made making music while working the night shift a breeze. Sufjan Stevens has recently made a great impact on me and the way I conceptualise songwriting. Chicago, for instance, is a single four chord loop that goes on for over six minutes, but ever changing dynamics, musical textures, lyrics, melody, instrumentals, and the layered musical motifs of the song all create a truly powerful and gripping exaltation of love, regret, and growth.

To conclude, I’ll leave you with a quote from Wes Anderson’s iconic Grand Budapest Hotel that I believe is advice on writing I should take:

“It is an extremely common mistake: people think the writer’s imagination is always at work, that he is constantly inventing an endless supply of incidents and episodes, that he simply dreams-up his stories out of thin air. In point of fact, the opposite is true. Once the public knows you are a writer, they bring the characters and events to you -- and as long as you maintain your ability to look and carefully listen, these stories will continue to seek you out [...] over your lifetime. I can't tell you how many times in my lifetime. [...] To him who has often told the tales of others, many tales will be told.”

[birklurks]

I hope I’m not misreading your posts as slightly facetious? They come off that way a little and it just seems like you’re trying to make a point by it, I’m just not sure what it is that you’re looking for. Do you want that author to apologize and take back what she said? I don’t think that you… don’t think that supporting authors and artists is important, and this is more supposed to demonstrate how bad it would be if all fandom wasn’t supportive? I just don’t understand what the endgame is

Hi there anon 👋🏻,

Sorry I missed (what I’m assuming) is a follow-up to an earlier ask. (If it’s not, and you’re a different person, please scratch that~)

"I just don’t understand what the endgame is”

What do you mean “endgame”?? I already secured the mother of all “endgames”.

In the past, engaging with the art and fics I enjoyed cost zero money and was comically low-effort, but now I literally don’t do anything, and I still get to fully enjoy the extraordinary benefits of everyone else’s labor, time and effort.

What could possibly be a better “endgame” than getting everything I want, when I want it, as much as I want it, and exactly how I want it for absolutely NOTHING?? It’s how the vast majority of consumers in our fandom do it, so why can’t I?? 

Especially now that I know that commenting has never really been a thing in the history of fandom, that the “healthiest and most satisfied creators” 🥴 (i.e., the *good* ones) write for themselves, that lack of reader engagement won’t stop writers from writing, and we can treat these concerns for what they *actually* are: whining that can be taken with a “grain of salt”.

Do I want that “author to apologize and take back what she said”?? No, of course not. Why the hell would I?!?!?!!?

She generously took time out of her busy schedule to impart her history and valuable knowledge on the ways of fandom to me, and in doing so made my experience as a consumer first and foremost a trillion times more convenient than it already was. And for that, I am eternally grateful.

There is no reason why my lurkership should ruffle any feathers or cause confusion in any way. What I do now is no different than how the vast majority of consumers in our fandom enjoy fanart and fanfics - and in my case, I actually have the sage words of a bonafide fandom veteran to justify and legitimize my endless voracious silent consumption. 😇

All of our fandom writers who whine about feeling demoralized, unseen, and unappreciated should follow the shining example of this kind, selfless and truly virtuous author and stop expecting anything they value for their extraordinary efforts. 😠

Instead of being entitled, problematic and wasting their time complaining about baseless nonsense, they should be writing even more free content for deserving silent consumers like me. 😤   

CHOP CHOP, WRITERS!! 

[colorisbyshe]

I think “humans are inherently good” is as baseless as “humans are inherently bad.” Maybe we can say “humans have a predilection for social behaviour” and social behaviour often leads to what benefits other people (which may or may not be “good”) but like...

Goodness is a choice. Goodness is malleable and changes with social and historical contexts. Goodness responds and reacts to how you are raised and what you experience and what you believe and feel and want.

There is no essential and innate human quality.

We are all a conglomeration of choices--our own choices, our loved ones choices, our society and government’s choices--and we all have the potential to use those choices for good or bad. Our understanding of what is good or bad may change or may be challenged by others; it may not be shared by others. And these choices of good and evil, kind and unkind are not equal--sometimes, the choice is easy and sometimes, the choice is hard as hell.

With that understood--every act of kindness is a choice and sometimes it is the harder choice. The hardest choice.

And that’s what makes it beautiful.

Kindness may not always be the default. And yet so often we gravitate towards it anyways. That’s what keeps me going. That every act of kindness is a choice, that sometimes people inconvenience themselves in being kind but choose to do it again and again and again because it’s worth it.

Because love may hurt or be hard or may be unseen and unappreciated but... it’s all we have at the end of the day. To give love and kindness and goodness away and not expect it back, to do that as a CHOICE, is a beautiful thing and should be celebrated for what it is. And not just summed up as some essential human quality. A thing we’re programmed to do.

It’s a series of choices. A chain that may break and be mended and go off in many directions and reach some dead ends on some branches and continue onward in others. And it holds us together.

[soul-dwelling]

Thoughts on Tsubakis brother as a charchter? Do you think his arc could have been explored more deeply or atleast the effect killing him had on Tsubaki?

(That we have to call him “Tsubaki’s brother” shows how limited an impact he really had on the plot, doesn’t it?)

From what I remember, there are just two instances where Masamune has any impact on the entire Soul Eater series: the arc with his fatal fight against Tsubaki, and the Baba Yaga Castle arc where we see how his death affects both Tsubaki and Black Star. And that’s really not enough. 

I’m not going to act like this should be the totality of Tsubaki’s characterization, constantly going back to her brother’s death as influencing every decision or thought she has. But as someone who is still not getting over the death of a close family member, I’m not going to act like that death is not something that stays with you forever–it’s just the intensity of that feeling and whether you notice it at any given time. 

(We could debate whether Masamune counts as a “close family member” to Tsubaki when I just said he has only two moments of impact on the entire story. But that’s a flaw of Soul Eater overall: for all of the correct decisions to not let stuff like Maka’s mother overshadow the entire plot, at the same time not even showing Maka’s mother throughout any of Soul Eater was a mistake, and just this absence of Tsubaki’s family throughout the story, not just Masamune but also her father and her unseen mother, is such a weird exclusion.)

I understand that stopping the plot for another arc around Tsubaki may not have worked with pacing: Soul Eater is largely focused on the progression of Maka (and to some extent Soul), Kid, Black Star, and Crona, with all other characters mostly satellites around those four in service to developing them. And that sucks for Tsubaki, when so much of her development does feel like it’s to help Black Star’s progression. It definitely works: Masamune is that grim example of what Black Star could have become. But it is an opportunity that the plot progression hindered. 

So, ideally, if the manga’s plot couldn’t do it, then you just needed an off-shoot to give us that story about Masamune. Light novels are always an option. If you had a bigger budget, there could have been a film, an OVA, a stage play, a plot for a video game. But that would depend on a story that makes Masamune’s presence necessary, and I don’t know what that could be. (If it was me, it would be a story showing just what exactly Tsubaki’s mother was up to that she wasn’t home for her and Black Star’s visit–maybe a flashback arc that could show more about her along with Masamune so we get a sense of how he turned out how he did, and maybe a bit more how Tsubaki turned out how she did. I did just say that sometimes characters are used to develop other characters, so I don’t mind using Masamune to help develop more about Tsubaki.) 

But to answer your question: it’s hard for me to think about Masamune as a character, when there is not much to that character beyond what he contributed to the plot. He has suffered from feeling overshadowed and unappreciated, giving into his dark side, so all of that makes him a foil to Black Star, an idea of what he could have become. He’s pretty much the opposite of Tsubaki, in terms of goals, personality, and appearance, so he reinforces how kind and supportive she is, as well as her resilience to take on family responsibilities and the Uncanny Sword in ways that he could not. 

And yes, we needed more about the effect his death had on Tsubaki. She literally incorporated his soul into her, as one of the souls she “ate” on her way to turn into a Death Scythe–and it just doesn’t come up aside from these two moments, key moments to be sure, but small in number and overshadowed by bigger moments for Black Star and other characters. Like, think what her experience could also tell us about the typical weapon’s experience. You just consumed a soul: what is that like? We know the Will of the Nakatsukasa persists in Tsubaki because she took on Masamune’s soul–but is there anything left of him, at all, in that soul? Any memories or emotions? I’m not saying it has to be like that, as you can have a death that has some finality where there is nothing of Masamune that is coming back, leaving Tsubaki with that grief, best encapsulated by that scene of her crying and cradling his soul in her arms. But it is just weird to not get a bit more about him, if just in service of Tsubaki. 

I mean, we saw Liz losing her mind at the thought of ever having to fight Patty–we couldn’t give Liz a scene trying to talk to Tsubaki about this, if not to help Tsubaki process these feelings, then to show how Liz can’t process that idea? (And that’s not even getting into denying us a scene of Monica Rial and Jaime Marchi bouncing lines off of each other in such a scene.)

[vampirebandz-blog]

God please protect me from unoriginal ppl protect me from people who aren’t true poets protect me from idea and energy leeches protect me from those who lie and rewrite history

Let me trail blaze and lead the way to show them my honestly and my fearlessness will always have me on top

All eyes on me Ik I am the inspiration as well as my inspiration are from my own I am a true artist of our generation I’m grateful to b amongst you all and get to witness me in my awesomeness u know u could do it 2 being cool is a gift really simple as being urself don’t b embarrassed there’s good and bad sides to ppl it’s what makes us human just b you so I say grab my hand and believe in me and my vision believe every idea every word out my mouth believe in my dreams don’t deny me my future for scary incomprehensible colorful world I see for the future

This isn’t a game this isn’t a movie this isn’t a quest for love this a quest of becoming the best in da world

All my life I have to compete with peoples favorite now it’s on a bigger scale every time I feel like I peaked I go harder everytime I feel unseen unappreciated they notice me thank you all from my heart this why I’m here I wanna be the change I’ve been craving

[jilliancabalhug9]

Shattered Bonds: A Memoir of Introvert's Failed Love

 

There is a gentler tune in the symphony of life, a song known only to those who take comfort in the quiet murmurs of their own minds. This is where my story starts, it's a memoir written in whispers instead of yells, in delicate lines instead of strong ones. Welcome to my journey, where the path ahead is guided by a soft rhythm of reflection and where being alone is not a hardship but a haven. Come along with me as I untangle the many strands of thought, feeling, and experience that combine to make up my identity as a proud introvert who appreciates the beauty of silence in a world that doesn't often stop to listen. Be with me as I share the various phases of my life.

Sometimes I wonder what my life would be like if I weren't like this, an introvert. I really don't know if I was born lonely or if I just kept my walls high so that anyone couldn't attempt to get closer. I think that is one of the reasons why I love isolating myself. Somehow, I wonder what it feels like to be an extrovert to be a person who can show themselves in a lot of people or crowded ones.

Back then, I really didn't mind what was happening around me because I was immune by the feeling of being unseen, unheard,and unappreciated. I always felt invalidated, and i think it is which made me an introvert. Some people view having strict parents as a blessing, but given my circumstances, I wouldn't want that. It's difficult when you want to explore and make your own decisions but encounter resistance all the time. I feel as though I'm missing out on opportunities and experiences that other people get to enjoy. A lot of things that I am not allowed to do, have prevented me from experiencing to enjoy life. Theres always an eye everywhere and whatever I do, they will always look for wrong so they can say something to criticize me. Even though I did many good things, they will always point out and draw more attention to my mistakes. Keep repeating it until it nurtures me.

I don't know if I was so jealous or if I just want to be treated like how my father gentle with my sister and how patient my mother is when it comes to my brothers. I didn't get the special treatment and i wonder why. Thinking about my childhood days, I pity myself for also wanting to win in my parents eyes. But I keep disappointing them with my actions, and that makes me hated myself that I can't make them proud. Since I was in elementary school, I have received a lot of awards that show proof of doing my best in academics. Instead of getting compliments, I just end up getting compared. Disappointing them makes me disappointed in myself too, and it also lower my self-esteem. They expect and want more and I can't even reach them. So when I was in sixth grade, I started to lose the motivation to try too much. I became lazy attending my class and irresponsible daughter and student. If something unfortunate occurs, I constantly remind myself that time will pass and the circumstances will be forgotten. I grow with this mindset since I am alone and cannot rely on anyone.

But last year, I realized that I should not waste my time in this short life and that I must step out of my comfort zone. Because there was one person who changed my perspective on life. He deserves to be shared in my story. The story of how he makes me feel at peace and genuinely happy. He makes me realize how beautiful the life is. I realized that the walls I build that I think will protect me are the only ones that will suffocate me to loneliness and sadness. I did love him so mucha and too much, to the point I depend my happiness into him. My source of strength in times of weakness. He helped me realized that there something more to life than laying on my bed and doing nothing.

I enjoyed peaceful walks beneath the sky with him, not needing many words. His embrace made me feel understood and accepted, showing me the strength in being vulnerable. But life is full of plot twists. We started off full of hope, but we got lost somewhere along the way. We were exhausted by the stresses of life and were unable to defend the relationship we had. When I think back, I recall our relationship falling apart daily. Despite our best efforts, some of the pain remained unbearable. We ultimately became further apart from one another even with our finest effort to rebuild.

I write these thoughts with a heavy heart, mourning what we lost. I feel comforted by the presence of my loved ones and that means being with him. I have no choice but to teach myself to live with the absence of those I miss, even as I mourn them. They will always be with me because of their memories, which sustain their love. Even though it hurt, I'm glad for the love we shared, and I treasure the time we spent together.

Now I'm back to being alone and not allowing anyone to enter my life again. It scared me and gave me a lot of what-ifs. I really don't want to depend on anyone again for my happiness. I had always questioned why I felt drained by social interaction and why I liked to be alone. Everything made sense to me after what happened that I was better alone with myself because no one is brave enough to stay. I came to understand that taking time for myself to unwind and appreciate the quiet is okay. I was able to manage the world with confidence after accepting my introverted nature and my destiny, which gave me strength. I accept everything that happened in my life today, but I wish it wasn't like this.

I will continue moving with hope and determination, understanding that every step gets me closer to my goals.

 

 

[jilliancabalhug]

Shattered Bonds: A Memoir of Introvert's Failed Love

There is a gentler tune in the symphony of life, a song known only to those who take comfort in the quiet murmurs of their own minds. This is where my story starts, it's a memoir written in whispers instead of yells, in delicate lines instead of strong ones. Welcome to my journey, where the path ahead is guided by a soft rhythm of reflection and where being alone is not a hardship but a haven. Come along with me as I untangle the many strands of thought, feeling, and experience that combine to make up my identity as a proud introvert who appreciates the beauty of silence in a world that doesn't often stop to listen. Be with me as I share the various phases of my life.

Sometimes I wonder what my life would be like if I weren't like this, anintrovert. I really don't know if I was born lonely or if I just kept my walls high so that anyone couldn't attempt to get closer. I think that is one of the reasons why I love isolating myself. Somehow, I wonder what it feels like to be an extrovert, to be a person who can show themselves in a lot of people or crowded ones and have that confidence.

Back then, I really didn't mind what was happening around me because I was immune by the feeling of being unseen, unheard,and unappreciated. I always felt invalidated, and i think it is which made me an introvert. Some people view having strict parents as a blessing, but given my circumstances, I wouldn't want that. It's difficult when you want to explore and make your own decisions but encounter resistance all the time. I feel as though I'm missing out on opportunities and experiences that other people get to enjoy. A lot of things that I am not allowed to do, have prevented me from experiencing to enjoy life. Theres always an eye everywhere and whatever I do, they will always look for wrong so they can say something to criticize me. Even though I did many good things, they will always point out and draw more attention to my mistakes. Keep repeating it until it nurtures me.

I don't know if I was so jealous or if I just want to be treated like my father is gentle with my sister and how patient my mother is when it comes to my brothers. I didn't get the special treatment and i wonder why. Thinking about my childhood days, I pity myself for also wanting to win in my parents eyes. But I keep disappointing them with my actions, and that makes me hated myself that I can't make them proud. Since I was in elementary school, I have received a lot of awards that show proof of doing my best in academics. But I always received the words "mao rana?" "nindot untag top 1," and "maypa si kuan first honor pa." Instead of getting compliments, I just end up getting compared. Disappointing them makes me disappointed in myself too, and it also lower my self-esteem. They expect and want more and I can't even reach them. So when I was in sixth grade, I started to lose the motivation to try too much. I became lazy attending my class and irresponsible daughter and student. If something unfortunate occurs, I constantly remind myself that time will pass and the circumstances will be forgotten. I grow with this mindset since I am alone and cannot rely on anyone.

But last year, I realized that I should not waste my time in this short life and that I must step out of my comfort zone. Because there was one person who changed my perspective on life. He deserves to be shared in my story. The story of how he makes me feel at peace and genuinely happy. He makes me realize how beautiful the life is. I realized that the walls I build that I think will protect me are the only ones that will suffocate me to loneliness and sadness. I did love him so mucha and too much, to the point I depend my happiness into him. My source of strength in times of weakness. He helped me realized that there something more to life than laying on my bed and doing nothing.

I enjoyed peaceful walks beneath the sky with him, not needing many words. His embrace made me feel understood and accepted, showing me the strength in being vulnerable. But life is full of plot twists. We started off full of hope, but we got lost somewhere along the way. We were exhausted by the stresses of life and were unable to defend the relationship we had. When I think back, I recall our relationship falling apart daily. Despite our best efforts, some of the pain remained unbearable. We ultimately became further apart from one another even with our finest effort to rebuild.

I write these thoughts with a heavy heart, mourning what we lost. I feel comforted by the presence of my loved ones and that means being with him. I have no choice but to teach myself to live with the absence of those I miss, even as I mourn them. They will always be with me because of their memories, which sustain their love. Even though it hurt, I'm glad for the love we shared, and I treasure the time we spent together.

Now I'm back to being alone and not allowing anyone to enter my life again. It scared me and gave me a lot of what-ifs. I really don't want to depend on anyone again for my happiness. I had always questioned why I felt drained by social interaction and why I liked to be alone. Everything made sense to me after what happened that I was better alone with myself because no one is brave enough to stay. I came to understand that taking time for myself to unwind and appreciate the quiet is okay. I was able to manage the world with confidence after accepting my introverted nature and my destiny, which gave me strength and clarity. I accept everything that happened in my life today, but I wish it wasn't like this.

[hersforever]

I’m really feeling the stress of money lately as well , bills , food , kids , dogs. It get extremely overwhelming the pressure of having to make more money constantly.

I end up burning myself out working long hours while taking care of everyone’s needs.

I’ve needed a vacation for over 20 years and yet to have one. I find myself getting extremely envious of other people. Who get to travel and actually enjoy their life’s while I’m working but off to make ends meat. And feeling very unappreciated and unseen.

Is this what life is ? Just work work work to pay for everything and be in constant stress and burnout with zero reward ?

Don’t get me wrong my hubby and my kids are a major blessing and I am so grateful for them , but I’m lacking fun , laughter and joy a lot of time.

I feel …. Stressed and alone. 😔