#ruminate

[neil-gaiman]

I remember the first piece of writing I ever read of yours. It was bit in SimCity 2000. I was about 11, I'd never read any of your books and honestly didn't know you were an author until like, three or four years later. I assumed it had been written by one of the staff (I mean, it would not be out of character for Maxis; if you look in the Sims 1 build/buy mode catalogue you can find very odd bits of lore like a wallpaper made of coffin interiors and an anti-capitalist artist who is also a dog.)

But I remember it very clearly because I was getting to grips with SimCity and all its various tools, having lots of fun with setting giant robots and volcanoes on the wealthy neighbourhoods who complained about taxes but also about potholes, and I found the 'ruminate' button. I didn't know what 'ruminate' meant at the time, or if I did, I thought it had something to do with cow digestion. I clicked on it.

The mental whiplash from "mwhahaha fear my god-mayor wrath!" to having my preteen mind blown was quite the experience.

I then had my mind blown again about a decade after this when I discovered that the rumination was written by you.

That makes me very happy.

[dk-thrive]

This is all my fault for not moving homes or cities, for not taking certain jobs or marrying certain men, for looking backward all the time when I should be looking forward. I dwell too much. I hold on to things I shouldn't, to people I shouldn't. If you don't change, change will find you in its most unruly form. It will press down on your vulnerabilities until they squish out the edges. Life needs volunteers or else it will start calling on people at random.

― Sloane Crosley, Grief Is for People (MCD, February 27, 2024)

[klaascows]

Panda.

[kailash-se-birha]

Though the wait has been long, monsoon has at last washed ashore on my most precious little archipelago, Mumbai.

[kabcy]

"What if I said I wasn't good enough? Do you ever feel the same way?"

[moredvyns-blog]

What's holding you back from pursuing a career in modeling? Is it the fear of pressure and meeting society's beauty standards? Perhaps it's the fear of rejection or the uncertainty of reaching your full potential. Maybe it's the fear of becoming the person you aspire to be, or the impact you hope to make. I believe it's the fear of being accepted for who you are, and at the same time, not being accepted for who you aspire to be. It's also the fear of realizing your own potential greatness while being aware of the self-doubt that you carry.

-dvyn’s inner thoughts

Who will i be?

[cosmicallyconscious]

 "Without self-reflection, we ride the momentum of whatever we're already doing and whatever we stumble across. That's dangerous, because it stops us from self-reflecting on how we've changed and whether we should be doing something new."

Julian Shapiro

[brainwillexplode]

i have moved on from the endless rumination phase after a breakup and into vague disdain and secret childlike hopeful longing that i will bury with eating a lot of popsicles and feta cheese (separately)

[great-and-small]

Sheep tail go down goat tail go up that’s all you need to know

[well-hello-hi]

Wooowww i took the olly miss mellow suplements, meant for reducing stress, i actually think they worked 😍🥹 😌😌😌😌🫠😴 doooooontt ruminate 😴 gooo to sleeeeeeep instead 😴Hnnggg. I feel sooo at ease. Such inner peace. Gnight. 💗

[onryou-onryou]

Smashing Pumpkins - Siamese Dream, 30 Years Later｜Vinyl Monday

[dk-thrive]

"Every night he would lie awake, endlessly reprocessing the day’s events, discovering in these rehashings slights and conversational missteps that hadn’t in the moment occurred to him to worry about. He’d work to try to convince himself these affronts were imagined, then his brain would offer its rebuttal: they were real, and each person he’d maligned would remember it forever—... The cycle repeated endlessly."

— Kaveh Akbar, Martyr!: A Novel (Knopf, January 23, 2024)

[ruminatingmonsieur]

[sheilamurrey]

January 11th

It’s January 10th, 2024; For many reasons, I’ve been reflecting on the past and my ancestors these last few days. Yesterday, I gave thanks to my parents and grandparents for being born and getting the opportunity to LIVE this fascinating life! One of my uncles passed away on Jan. 9th in the evening. We weren’t close, but I feel for my three cousins who’ve ‘lost’ their dad (in this life). I also…

[jasyred]

Ruminate

When I was in grade one, I had a couple of friends I hung out with. We had the same route back home, so we bumped into each other daily. In classes we sat separately, barely mingling with each other until it was time to return home. We weren't close, but my young self liked to call them friends, as I adored them equally.

There was a girl who I called my best friend. She was very important to me. Short curly hair, chubby cheeks and chubby figure, academically smart. We both sat together, ate together, and our friendship wasn't limited to just our school gates. I talked about her lovingly, and she did too, or so, I don't really remember. She was quiet while I was the talkative one. She mattered to me, she was my first best friend after all. Maybe this is why when I had to change schools, I cried the most. I was scared in my new school, my new classmates. They were extra loud, extra notorious, and for someone like me who would easily get intimidated, they were scary to me.

However my day two in class brightened up more than usual, because call it fate or whatever, my best friend joined the same school and ended up in the same class as me. I remember freezing in surprise thinking I'm hallucinating or that girl is just some doppelgänger, or my eyesight is just bad. I quietly went after her before anyone else tried to befriend her and tapped on her shoulder. She mouthed an 'oh' and smiled. I heaved a sigh of relief and gushed about how happy I am to see her and what not. She was a girl with no to minimum reactions, or that's what I convinced myself to believe. Now that I look back, she wasn't really interested.

I sticked with her all times, happily and helped her with everything, even when sometimes, she didn't ask for it. I didn't mind. I didn't wanted my best friend to feel alone, or lost. We befriended other new classmates who came in our class, and eventually became close. However, she always felt distant, and I didn't like it. I wondered if I made a mistake. Soon the days came when she switched seats and sat away from us, I asked her to come back, to which she rudely replied that we disturbed her, and she'd prefer sitting alone. The boys were upset, but they knew I was more hurt. I walked up to her seat and asked if she would atleast let me sit, she didn't bother looking at me and asked me to leave. That was my first friendship breakup, and no matter how much I chased after her, she got farther and farther away. So I made peace with just being able to see her everyday, and the only closeness I felt was by keeping my notebook on top of hers during submissions, or class rankings after exams where we were always a step ahead or behind of each other.

The boys always sticked to me and they somehow made me forget the loneliness of being without my best friend, but could never fill the gap she created. Girl friendships are just different.

When she switched schools again, I cried the hardest, even though I was long forgotten by her. I had her number and picture, and tear up everytime I saw her and wondered what I did wrong. I asked my mother if I was at fault and told her everything I thought about her and how she meant to me. For three months or more, I couldn't stop tearing up, would get sick often because of how much I thought about her, and isolated myself from others. For a child of grade three, it felt like the world was ending and that I'll never have a best friend again.

Time went by, and soon she became a painful memory. Her memory made me vary of befriending other people. But I hated being alone, and above that I hated loneliness. I drifted apart from the boys too, no hard feelings though. We had our fun time and parted ways because of our different streams. Somewhere in grade five, I was seated next to a another quiet, but extremely kind girl. She was pale, slightly skinny and had long hair. She was so kind it baffled me, always sweet to others, and always calm, assuring, gentle. She was honest. I once pranked her and immediately felt bad when she cried, to me she felt too good for the world. I personally think I wasn't good to her, probably because of my heartbreak from my first best friend, no matter how hard she tried to break my walls, I wouldn't let her in. She didn't complain, and even her eyes, there was a look that felt so loving and gentle. She would make me feel awkward because of the amount of patience she had for me, and I would get furious, because she helped so many people that most of them took advantage of her.

Time and people don't wait forever, and eventually, because of some issues with her mother's health, she had to move to different city. I think that was the time, I regretted not letting her in sooner. I was scared, and disappointed when she left, I made a feeble attempt to stop her, but she just gave me her usual smile and said she had to go. I took her number and promised to stay in touch with her. That, was for a while, she probably got busy, and eventually people forget.

Some years later I stumbled on her social media, she now did art, and looked really happy, with her girlfriend.

The same grade, after weeks of sitting alone, a girl approached me. She was known for her athletic figure, tall, tanned skin. She radiated a lot of masculine energy, a type I had never befriended before. I allowed her to sit, still vary and cautious, but she caught my attention with humor. She was louder than me, funny, outgoing, and at the same time, kind and cared about me. Eventually we became close and I called her my best friend too, and so did she. She had a habit of walking in front of me, and would sometimes hold my hand when it got too crowded. From her walk to the way she talked, it felt masculine and often she would being complain about being stuck in a feminine body. I liked it. It was different. She would protect me from people who would say something bad, backed me always, comforted me when I cried. She rarely cried, but once she did, it was heartbreaking to see. Our friendship lasted longer than I expected. Boys and their tendency to hit on girls, never changed, so during an event when one of them did, she stood in front of me and asked them to shut up. Her tall frame scared most of the guys, and it was funny to see. However, this doesn't mean she never helped me out with my crushes. She accompanied me everytime , I wanted to look at particular someone, and gave me an ear everytime I wanted to rant. She never understood the crush factor, but never judged me for it.

But all of it again ended, once our streams were changed again. Grade seven, I tried to meet her during lunches, and we thought we could make it work, but we couldn't. And eventually, we faded. She wasn't a painful memory. Just someone who drifted apart. I liked my time with her, and felt happy for her getting along with others. The idea of losing a friend was always disappointing, and the pain, was now numbing.

I didn't attend the crucial months of grade eight, because I was sick with chicken pox. Hence the first day of my school gave me anxiety. And I met a girl, who had a major surgery, and that day was her first too. Shared experiences led us to same desks, same course to cover and what not. She wasn't my best friend, but she called me one. We were close, but not too close, and she tried her best, so I let her in. We fought sometimes and she would come to me saying she needs me with an apology, and I would let it slide. It was only after I left the school again, and went to a different city, I realized, she didn't need me. Later I confirmed, how glad she was that I didn't contact her again and that she doesn't have to deal with me anymore. I felt hurt and used, after knowing the lengths I went for her just so she could settle in class.

Grade nine and tenth were horrible, in a different city away from home, mental trauma, bullying and abuse. The idea of friendships were out of the window, but I survived there still, because of one girl. She was my junior, we had similar troubles, and so we confided in each other. Could it be trauma bonding? I am not quite sure. All I know is that because we had each other's back, we survived those hellish years, and didn't unalive ourselves. She still remains my close friend and we catch up on each other from time to time.

The idea of girl best friend, was still out of the window. I hated it, because it brought me nothing but pain, and somewhere deep down, no matter how much I wanted girlhood, it felt like I didn't deserve it.

I don't know why I chose to write or think about my girl friendships, from as long as I can remember. Is it the pain? The memories? What is it, I don't really know. Or perhaps I just wanted to see the transition from of past girl friendships to present, because of this one particular woman, she seemed to have set a whole different level to it.

-to be continued.

[a-fix-of-muses]

Currently Listening To: "Ruminate" by Night Rider