#sa rsa

[kimludcom]

Dj Lamiez dancing🔥🔥 and having fun

[buddiebeginz]

Don't tell me you couldn't have stopped it if you wanted...

[kleine-stoute-meisie-sa]

Join my Afrikaans Stout Group

[ghanaplug]

B33kay SA and Ceeka RSA Join Forces on New Amapiano Single "Woza"

Following the monumental success of “Athandwe” by SOA Matrixx, Sir Trill, and B33kay SA, the rising star B33kay SA is gearing up for the release of his highly anticipated single “Woza.” Joining forces with the prolific Ceeka RSA, renowned for their contribution to the global summer anthem “Mnike,” this collaboration promises to set the Amapiano scene ablaze. Scheduled for release on 14/12/23,…

[mailmiocuoredipietratremaancora]

Rassemblement place de la République à Paris après le résultat du second tour des élections législative, le 7 juillet 2024

Denis ALLARD, Libération

[kon-igi]

Non amo granché la mimosa, sia perché è stata resa ipocrita dal trend sia perché i fiori che appassiscono sono una terribile metafora di quello che poi tocca alle donne il resto dell'anno, quindi questa mattina sono uscito con una vaso vuoto e circa a 700 metri di altezza ho ritrovato le primule che avevo adocchiato il giorno prima sul fianco di una collina.

La dedica l'avevo preparata a casa scrivendola su un vassoietto usa-e-getta in fibra di legno, quelli per il finger food, e incollandola su una bacchetta da ristorante cinese (Muciaccia scansati!)

Le primule erano per le infermiere, le OSS e, soprattutto, per le pazienti della mia RSA che sono felice abbiano apprezzato il pensiero.

Ma la cosa che mi ha fatto sorridere con una lacrimuccia e che ho messo questa foto anche sul polveroso gruppo whatsapp dei miei compagni del liceo, dove oramai nessuno scriveva più dal 2020...

Grazie Laura... lei non lo sa ma con le sue parole mi ha tolto un piccolo sasso dal cuore e reso il ricordo che ho del me stesso di allora un po' più leggero.

[sanyu-thewitch05]

Just a random Twisted Wonderland thought/theory:

There’s a good chance nobody outside of NRC(with the exception of the townspeople, Neige, and Chenya) know Yuu exists.

This was mentioned before in an ask I answered.

Knowing how Crowley is, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s using Yuu as a form of free labor. I would say our relationship with him is sort of(sorry, I don’t have the word to describe it right now) Mainly because he offers us protection(although it’s fairly shotty) and housing(also shotty) and an education(do I need to say anything?) but whenever we bring our home world up, it’s “oh I’m working on it while on vacation!” or “Oh I’m working on it while reading romance books!”. At this point, it’s pretty obvious he has no intention of sending us home, which is weird because you’d think he want us gone.

We’re a massive liability:

We’re the only magicless person in a magical school. Our presence there is a risk to our lives. Nevermind the fact we can’t even do some of the class work we’re assigned because we don’t have any magic.

Which brings me to question of why Crowley even wants us here. He could’ve easily kicked Grim and us out and left us to be RSA or the townspeople’s problem. Personally, I believe Crowley is only keeping us around to somewhat tame the NRC students and make us his charity project of sorts. If not that, there’s the more dark option that’s pretty obvious from the prologue.

Crowley seems like one of those people like a pimp or conman(I’m not saying Crowley is SAing us or pimping us out) where they see a vulnerable kid and immediately think “How can I take advantage of this?” We have no guardian or parental figure or know anyone in Twisted Wonderland. So we’re basically the perfect person to exploit for Crowley.

Basically, Crowley realized Yuu was in a vulnerable situation and figured out a way for it to benefit him, with little benefits going towards us. Not only that but just based on Disney lore, the head mage of RSA is probably the only actual person on the island(aside from Mickey in the mirror) who could get us home. He realizes this and so Crowley does his best to isolate Yuu from everyone else on the island. Also, if or when Crowley finds out about Mickey being in the mirror, I guarantee that he’s going to do something to the mirror so he can continue to have us working as a free therapist for his students.

[metacarpus]

ça y est c mon moment je vais essayer de convaincre mon père, ecolo hard core au rsa qui vote RN depuis 10 piges de voter front populaire. j'ai dans ma besace un document de solidaire qui détaille les votes du RN, une vidéo blast sur pourquoi leur politique n'est PAS sociale, et des arguments qui doivent en appeler non seulement à sa raison mais aussi à son cœur

[soulfungai]

Random TWST OC lore? Yup.

Lara…she’s one of the OC’s with a darker past in my stories. Please beware! Also, trigger warnings below. Please read them. Rielle and Fran are also in this because they are important to her story.

TRIGGER WARNING

SA(not detailed), people getting eaten alive(not detailed), su1c1d3

———

Full Name: Lara Kai

School: RSA

Favourite Food: Shrimp

Pastime: Roaming the sea for corals, cleaning the sea, protecting Rielle, helping Fran, being mean, attacking(?) people

Family: Mother(deceased), Father(deceased), Laya(sister, deceased), Lana(sister, deceased)

Role: Dormhead protector

Species: Eelion

[Dormhead protector is a made up role!]

———

Facts

Lara specifically avoids people who talk about Eelions. She fears that they are just like the merpeople of the past. Though she hopes not.

Lara cares a lot about Fran, and kind of bullies the twins in a friendly way.

Lara never had to learn how to walk, only how to get rid of/hide her tail and fins.

Lara doesn’t go back anywhere when it’s the holidays and stay with either the tweels, Azul, Rielle, or Fran.

Lara doesn’t have family, she used to. She’s basically almost going to go extinct and is pulling a really risky move (she knows) by choosing to go on land.

Lara has a fear of humans.

Has a lot of gold on her school uniform (not as much as Kamisha)

———

Backstory

Lara lived a pretty peaceful life up until she she realised that her species weren’t exactly friends with merpeople. Since Eelions looked quite similar to humans, just with fins and their bodies tinted to be bluer, they also had eel tails but they had limbs just like humans. They were strange and weird looking to merpeople, so Eelions separated with merpeople.

Lara didn’t have much friends, though she had one. This one friend however was captured by a human while she and Lara were hunting for shrimp and other things to ear, Lara’s mother always warned her when hunting to be weary of her surroundings. To make sure that no boat were around or they weren’t to close to the surface, this incident only made Lara’s fear of the surface grow.

Eventually, however, her life would be completely destroyed. Lara, and her whole kingdom and civilisation, which wasn’t all that big would be captured. And the truth about what happened to captured eelions destroyed Lara’s perspective on humans. Lara, and the rest of her family were captured and taken to the surface.

Lara found the truth disgusting, eelions were rare but instead of being experimented on or researched about, humans found them “tasty”. So, Lara watched one by one as all of her family were turned into cooked meals. However, Lara learned self-defence and was able to defend herself from these humans, so they sold her off instead.

Lara was sold to someone and SA’d. For years this would go on before a group comes to save Lara from the terrible life she was living, Lara got her revenge and took down the human group for murdering all her fellow eelions. Making her the only survivor.

Lara then read “The Little Mermaid”. The tale about Ariel, which shouldn’t be someone new to you guys. Lara found Ariel a very kind and loving person, and although she supported Ariel’s dreams in becoming a human, she felt a weird destain for the prince she was married to. Lara learned not all humans are bad, and that she just ran into cruel people. However, her fear of humans were not eased. Not until she chose to go to RSA.

People told her she’d “fit better in NRC” but Lara still chose to join RSA. That’s when she met Rielle, and Fran. She became close friends with the two and understood Rielle’s sadness. Lara became a real friend to Rielle and protected him from fake ones. She would call them out if she saw it necessary, however if it got really bad she would just straight up attack them.

Lara had another friend who was a koikoi (mermaid but koi fish.), she lost her to su1c1d3 which made Lara really depressed for a while.

Lara helped ease Fran’s anxiety and tried her best to help him out. She took on the role of protecting Rielle and when she found out about his admiration for Azul, she decided to take a visit and meet this…so called fish mafia.

———

Relationships

Rielle

Rielle was the first person she met in RSA and was quite fond of him. Even telling him he reminded her of Ariel, and even told him the whole story.

Not once did Lara ever let it slip past her whenever someone was using or abusing Rielle’s kindness and made sure that they knew they were a terrible person.

Lara gives him a lot of gifts to comfort him and joins him in his interests.

Personal therapist for Rielle.

Lara can get annoyed with Rielle sometimes, but never shows it.

He doesn’t know about her past, or her fear of humans until she overblots.

Tweels

Absolutely made fun of them when she first saw them. She couldn’t understand why they were trying so hard to be the fish mafia, they weren’t even that scary.

They have gotten on her nerves a few times which sometimes ended in her beating them up. However it doesn’t affect their health to much.

Forced them to try and talk to Fran, she accidentally started a new friendship and the Tweels absolutely love Fran and protect him.

Personal therapist for the two twins.

Find out about her past when she overblots, got a few hints about her fear of humans before.

Fran

Best friend/he has a crush on her

Helped ease his social anxiety.

Gifts him sweets all the time and sometimes over gives him.

Fran thanked her a lot after he made friends with the tweels.

Personal therapist

Has no idea about her fear of humans or her past until she OB

Azul

Protects Azul often, and get’s pretty upset whenever someone bullies him. When he told her what happened in the past Lara looked like she was about to explode. She asked them where they were.

She lets him win all the time just so that he doesn’t feel bad about himself.

Is legitimately better at him in everything.

She got mad when Azul treated Rielle pretty badly and kind of embarrassed him by confronting him in front of NRC and RSA. She thought it wouldn’t do much but he apologised to Rielle later on.

Personal therapist.

He always had a feeling she went through stuff, he was horrified when she OB’d because it just showed that it was a lot worse then what he was expecting.

She stills cares about all of them.

———

Rielle and Fran belong to @yaoyaobae ! Ask me to take it down if ur not comfortable.

Lara Kai (ララカイ)

Lara belongs to me, and the rest belong to TWST.

RIP eelions.

[galaxyshine24-7]

The Silver Bullet 🍹

A Twisted Wonderland Mafia Au from @jackplushie-deactivated20221009

(Characters will be aged up a little given the circumstances. The first years will be at least 18-19 and the others will line up with that age range in mind with the first years.)

Chapter 1 Prologue

“What?!” A fork falls onto a plate letting out a ding that echoes around the dinning hall.

“I said it is time for you to leave the nest and make a life for yourself.” A tall man rested his elbows on the table, folding his hands.

“Crowley you can’t be serious?!” A man wearing a fine fur coat slams his hands on the table glaring at the man. 

“Crewel, you knew this day was coming sooner or later. All little birdies must leave the nest. Sometimes they need a shove to get going.” The Crowley explains. 

“This is more than a shove, more like a toss out the window.” Crewel argues. 

“It really is a bad time Crowley, they haven’t even blown out the candles yet.” A loud meow comes from a cat in the other man’s arms as he strokes the furry ball. His dark green eyes burn a hole into the bird man’s head. 

“Haha calm down Mozus they’ll be fine.” A huge hand pats Yuu on the back making them cough on their drink. “Our little Yuu has gone through many trials, this is just another obstacle in their path. They’ll get through it, besides with all that training I gave them nothing should get in their way.” He wraps a large bicep around their neck ruffling Yuu’s hair. The mention of training causes a chill to run up Yuu's spine. “Vargas let go of them. I spent a long time getting them ready.” Crewel points his cigarette at the man’s direction. The dogs at his feet growl in response to their master’s agitation. 

“Don’t get your panties in a twist Divus. You’re just mad Crowley isn’t letting them join your gang.” He laughs, placing his feet on the table. The two men continue to bicker as Yuu fixes their hair. Yuu is surprised as a beautiful cake lit up with candles gets placed in front of them. 

“Here you go little imp your favorite cake, I had to go all the way to RSA to get it. Enjoy it to the fullest.” Yuu looks up at the man giving him a smile. 

“Thank you Sam.” 

“Now how about we stop all this arguing and focus on the party. It is a joyous day is it not. Our little imp has come of age.” Sam takes a seat across from Yuu. The cake is decorated beautifully with fruits shaped like flowers along the top. The candles illuminate the room as Yuu looks up at the people around them. 

“Thank you for everything.” Yuu breathes. They weren’t perfect, but they where the closest thing to a family Yuu could have. 

“Make a wish dear, I am so generous that I will grant you one for this special occasion.” They didn’t have much that they wanted when thinking about Dire’s request, but with a deep breath they blew out their candles looking the man right in the eyes. 

“I want a favor.” The others smile at Yuu’s answer. 

“What favor would that be?” He tilts his head. 

“I don’t know yet, but I’ll tell you when I think of one.” The others laugh as Dire lets out a small smile. 

“We have taught you well, young one.” Mozus nods his head. 

“Indeed, well now let's get to the cake.” Vargas slides the cake in front of him, already cutting a huge slice for himself. 

“For goodness sake Vargas have some manners. Yuu is supposed to get the first slice.” The noise picks up again as a piece of cake is gently placed on the plate in front of them. However what Crowley said earlier still lingers in Yuu’s mind, what will it be like to finally be on their own? For now they just enjoy the cake with their teachers, making sure to remember this last bit of normalcy they have. 

A day later Yuu is cleaning up the library in Crowley’s old manor as the man tells them of what is to come.

“So about your debt…” He mumbles. 

“Debt?!” Yuu turns around dropping a bunch of books on the ground. 

“Yes, well I have spent a lot of money raising you, and I was hoping when you got old enough you would pay it back.” Crowley looks at Yuu with his sad eyes. “I spent so many restless nights putting a roof over your head and food on your plate, all I ask is that you help out this poor old headmaster.” He whines slumping dramatically in his chair. 

“Ex headmaster.” Yuu picks up the books, placing them on the correct shelf. 

“Oh how you wound me bo ho.” Now he is fake crying as Yuu lets out a sigh turning to the man.

“Well once I get a job I can pay you back little by little sir.” Now they just need to think about where to work. NRC is an option but the streets can be rather dangerous, but getting enough to travel to the RSA sector would take some time.

“Well I have just the idea.” He recovers from his sobbing rather quickly, clapping his hands with a bright smile on his face. 

“Get you things packed, we leave tonight.” He announces strutting towards the library door. Yuu shakes their head, though this man has raised them for most of their life he is still an enigma with his weird mannerisms. 

It didn’t take long for Yuu to pack their things. Their teachers did give them all they needed, but there wasn’t much they could find for personal items. A few clothes and necessities along with an old story book Crowley gave them when they first arrived at the manor. He said the book was from the grand library of the now abandoned Night Raven College. It contains many fairy tales and legends that Yuu just couldn’t get enough of. It's now worn and the pages somewhat faded, but it’s still loved. Yuu carries some of their things down the stairs as Crowley and a few of his men help bring in the rest of Yuu’s things from upstairs. 

“Come along now Yuu, the night is still young and there's lots to get done.” Crolwy places an arm around Yuu as they walk outside to the car. A member of Crowley’s gang takes the box from Yuu as another opens the door for both the headmaster and his ward. 

The manor is located on the outskirts of NRC looking over the gray ocean in the distance. The glowing city rests on the other side as the car's engine lets out a soft purr. Yuu has lived in the city streets for many years, but that was a long time ago. NRC must have changed since then. Crowley proceeds to give them warnings about what to do and what not to do as they head to the downtown area of the sector. The black tinted windows of the vehicle hides their faces; it doesn't stop the curious onlookers from eyeing a sleek yet vintage  car driving through some of the rougher distracts. After about an hour's drive they reach their destination under the cover of night, with very few people on the streets at this time.

“Yuu may I introduce you to the Silver Bullet. It used to be a café that many students used to frequent, but now it's going to be a wonderful bar with you as the bartender.” He steps out of the car showcasing the run down establishment as his members check around the area. 

“A bartender?” Yuu asks. 

“Yes some of the money you make will go to repaying your debt and the rest can be for sprucing up the place, and for your own pocket. It comes with a fine set of living quarters.” He starts to open the bar doors, but struggles to pull it open until he uses a bit of strength as the doors fly open. A dust cloud kicks up in a cloud as Crowley tries his best to hold in his coughs. 

The sign reading Silver Bullet glows dimly in the night, its old and rusted as the ‘t’ in Bullet slightly hangs off to the side. Yuu ventures inside with Crowley looking around at the downstairs interior. It looks worse on the inside, everything is covered in a thick layer of dust as the furniture looks like it's about to break apart.

“Isn’t this nice.” He smiles as a beam lands on the floor behind them. “Ah we will fix that.” He grumbles. The men outside start bringing Yuu’s things upstairs as the two explore the building.

Yuu can tell under all this mess used to be something great. Though the decor is old it's still in good shape, showing the care people placed in it. The bar wasn’t so bad it needs a few touch ups, but it still is a nice piece of furniture with sleek dark wood and a black marble countertop. Yuu looks over at Crowley as he still tries to sing the praises of this place. His hand resting on the back of one of the chairs as the leg gives out. He angrily kicks it, grumbling up curses, but notices Yuu is watching going back to his cheery self. Yuu sighs coming from behind the counter to stand next to Crowley. 

“I think it's time for me to rest, I have a lot of work to do in the morning.” Yuu smiles. 

“Oh of course let me get you settled.” There is a door on the side of the building with stairs leading up to the upper floor. It's in the same state as downstairs. It had all the necessities and even a few rooms to spare. The main bedroom is dusty, but cozy all the same. The members have placed down Yuu’s things in the correct rooms, soon leaving out of the upstairs apartment. Yuu looks up at Crowley as he clears his throat, now that they are alone they could talk personally. 

“I will miss you child, but I know you will spread your wings and soar.” He talks his loud crying as he gives Yuu a hug. 

“Thank you Crowley.” Yuu pats him on the back. 

“And always remember.” He hugs Yuu a bit tighter now bending down to their ear. “We are always watching.” A chill runs through the air as Yuu simply nods.   "I understand." Yuu looks down at the floor, Crowley places a gentle pat on their shoulders as they head back downstairs.

Crowley and his men said their goodbyes leaving Yuu to their new life as the bartender to this simple establishment.     

Nothing should go wrong right?     

Notes: Here's a start to the silver bullet story I've been thinking about. I'm still trying to figure out how everything plays out in this au. I just want to thank @jackplushie-deactivated20221009 for giving me the inspiration to start writing again. I hope your doing okay wherever you are.

P.S. I just want you all to know that my Yuu is based off my Twisted MC who is a girl so I might use gendered language down the line in certain cases. Thank you for reading, and until next chapter. If you all have any ideas or questions just hit me up and I'll try to respond the best I can.

[ecrisettaistoi]

14 juillet

.

.

.

Liberté

de fermer sa gueule, de ne pas manifester,

de travailler jusqu’à épuisement, de se faire taper dessus

en manifestation, d’être convoqué par les pandores

pour des slogans, de finir sa vie avec presque rien,

de n’avoir aucune chance, de mourir pour un contrôle.

Egalité

pour tous, enfin, surtout pour certains mais pas pour d’autres

devant la loi, devant la justice, liberté, liberté chérie de ne pas

faire de vagues, de ne pas faire de bruit, d’accepter son sort

comme le veau à l’abattoir.

Fraternité

absente, perdue, diluée, dévoyée, limitée aux seuls nantis,

blancs, riches tandis qu’on meurt par centaines en Méditerranée,

tandis qu’on crève au RSA, tandis que d'autres se gavent comme

dans la Grande bouffe de Ferreri jusqu'à en exploser.

Liberté, égalité, fraternité, sous les oriflammes tricolores d'un pays fracturé, désuni, exsangue, indécent, pourri.

.

.

.

[kimludcom]

Tjina challenge 🥰🥰🥰 #africangood #amapiano #dance #bestamapiano2023 @saami.c

[congratulationsgeorge]

la joie & la rage

Dans ce texte, je parlerai de mon rapport à la joie et à la rage d’un point de vue politique, et ce depuis mes intersections (artiste / Noir / métis / transmasc / au RSA / issu de classe moyenne basse ~ ouvrière / neurodivergent).  Avec recul, l’écrire m’a permis de chasser les dernières réminiscences de la queerness blanche que j’avais internalisée. Les milieux queers blancs sont ceux qui prennent le plus de place et ont le plus de visibilité en France (pas que). Quand on ne s’identifie pas comme une personne cis het, on finit toujours par s’y frotter. Souvent ces espaces prônent un rejet (ou plutôt un effacement) des privilèges de chacun·e en voulant déconstruire le patriarcat et le capitalisme. Se crée alors une ambiance propice à la honte et à la culpabilité dès lors que l’on possède un privilège. Je ne crois pas que ce soit une façon saine de gérer le problème (et ces dynamiques créent des situations absurdes d’ailleurs). Par extension, c’est aussi quelque chose qui peut se retrouver au sein de milieux 2slgbtqia+ racisés. M’enfin bon, c’est un sujet que je garderai pour une prochaine fois. Quoi qu'il en soit, le fait de m’être construit en partie avec ce type de narratif a fini par générer en moi un sentiment de culpabilité et de honte quant à mes choix de (sur)vie matérielle qui n'allaient pas toujours dans le sens de la lutte anticapitaliste*.

*****

Hier j’ai réalisé que je culpabilisais de poursuivre mon confort plutôt que de le sacrifier au profit d’un lifestyle plus radical et militant. & je me sentais coupable d’avoir opté pour le Chemin de la joie, plutôt que celui de la rage. 

Je ne cherche plus la pureté militante dure et parfaite. Je cherche à être heureux et pour moi ça nécessite d’avoir accès à un minimum de confort et de stabilité économique. Pouvoir faire des courses, manger à chaque repas, manger copieusement si je le souhaite, m’acheter des habits, investir dans du matériel de création, aller au restaurant, avoir la possibilité de faire des activités payantes avec mes ami·e·s/x, payer mes soins choisis de testostérone, avoir un suivi psy ou psychiatrique quand j’en ai besoin, partir en vacances, retourner voir ma famille à la Réunion, globalement : avoir du choix de consommation, des possibilités d'actions. Je ne suis pas encore parvenu à atteindre tous ces objectifs (pas de surprises en étant au RSA et handi lol x)), mais j'y compte bien.

Et ben, y a une partie de moi qui avait honte de ce désir de confort. 

“Mais ce n'est pas un échec mon brave et joli George. Ce n'est pas un échec de vouloir prendre soin de soi et de sortir du hardship. T’es pas moins politisé pour autant. Tu continues à créer des espaces pour, et à te mobiliser avec tes communautés en plus. C’est juste que t’as compris et que tu respectes que t’as besoin d’un confort et d’une routine pour bien fonctionner et pour être heureux, tout simplement. And that’s ok. Tout comme il y en a qui s’adonne à cultiver la rage, à la chérir et à la faire fructifier lors d’actions politiques et militantes, toi tu t’adonnes à cultiver la joie et les rires à travers ton art que tu partages avec tes communautés.” 

Je ne considère pas la rage et la joie comme des valeurs antagonistes. Elles partagent au cœur la même notion et nourrissent le même élan d’espoir. La rage et la joie sont indispensables pour fonctionner en tant que communauté opprimée. Et même, si je pousse la joie plus loin, je veux aussi rentrer dans les côtes de l’insouciance, voire de l’ignorance (comme me disait Ibra en citant Kendrick Lamar : « Ignorance is a bliss »), parce que nous aussi on en a besoin. Cultiver la rage, la joie et l’insouciance, ça me semble être une base solide pour vivre heureusement sous un régime oppressif. Que ciels qui peuvent et veulent entretenir la rage le fassent et que ciels qui peuvent et veulent entretenir la joie et l’insouciance le fassent. C’est ça qu’est cool dans la communauté, chacun·e apporte sa pierre à l’édifice. On n’est pas obligé·e·s/x de tout faire ou de tout porter tout·e seul·e, tout le temps. On se complète.

La rage on peut : 

1) l’exprimer de façon brute en criant, en tapant dans des objets, en grognant, en cassant (lors de manifestations par exemple), ou encore 

2) l’exprimer partiellement en la transformant en art. Le problème c’est que quand on est Noir·e·s, on n’a pas le droit de s’exprimer pleinement dans la rue ou en public, alors on ne le fait pas. On a intériorisé le fait que prendre de la place ce n’est pas ce qu’on attend de nous, et prendre de la place concrètement c’est aussi nous mettre en danger de fait. Alors crier ! Frapper ! Agir en dehors du cadre normé / neurotypique et attendu de ce qu’un corps peut ou ne pas faire dans l’espace public – encore plus s’il s’agit d’un corps perçu comme noir – c’est très dangereux. 

Je pense à la police qui assassine, mais aussi aux fachos, et aux Karen en roue libre. 

Choisir de cultiver la joie plutôt que la rage, c’est une décision politique, mais c’est aussi une question de survie physique.

Par conséquent, il y a aussi un enjeu de survie mentale. Être enragé et ne pas avoir l’espace total pour exprimer sa rage (puisqu’on ne l’exprime que partiellement à travers la création artistique), c’est rageant. C’est comme des piles de journaux, de nouvelles douloureuses et assourdissantes, qui s’entassent dans une pièce, puis une autre, puis encore une autre, jusqu’à envahir tout le bâtiment et le faire péter de l’intérieur.

Moi, ma rage à une certaine période de ma vie, elle m’a mordu la main et ça m’a rendu malade dans moi. Malade de solitude et de tristesse. Au point d’en bâtir ma solitesse, ma forteresse de solitude, aux murs érigés hauts de méfiance et de colère qui ne laissaient passer personne, ni même une goutte d’Amour. A ce moment là, je flirtais régulièrement avec l’envie de me tuer. Une rage mal évacuée, ça peut me faire ça. 

Choisir de laisser ce dragon de colère dormir en paix, dans un jardin en fleurs aéré dans mon ventre, c’est pas un vrai choix au final. Oui, je pourrai décider de le laisser rugir, m’envelopper de ses écailles frémissantes et cracher de concert avec lui des glaires de feu. Mais en même temps ce serait consumer mes équilibres, brûler tous mes jardins au passage lentement cultivés, et me faire mourir de l’intérieur, à petits feux.

 Moi je choisis de vivre, de m’amuser et de kiffer le temps qu’on me donne sur cette planète. Je choisis d’aimer vivre, d’aimer cette vie, et de m’aimer. C’est un choix plus lourd qu’il n’y paraît. Être authentique envers moi-même et mon entourage, persévérer dans ma quête du bonheur, du respect, de l’honnêteté et de ma paix intérieure quand je fais partie des personnes à éliminer dans cette société : ça, c’est mon accomplissement révolutionnaire.

Pendant longtemps j’ai eu le rôle de celui qui (ap)porte la rage, quitte à choquer les autres mous du genou qui ne voulaient pas vraiment faire le taf ou appliquer les théories. Eh !! Maintenant je kiffe ! Faites vos devoirs vous aussi ! C’est moi qui régale ! Je vais m’asseoir peeeeeendant ! Et faire des jeux de société avec mes ami·e·s/x ! Bye x

Remerciements à Ibra, Nes, Soleil, Gilda pour leurs précieuses relectures et leurs encouragements. Love you!!! <3

__________________________

*Ajout du 16.04.2024.

je recommande l'émission de Kiyémis "Rends la joie" sur Médiapart, particulièrement l'épisode avec Fania Noël dans lequel elles pointent les limites des notions de "prendre soin de soi" et de "joie", labelisées comme étant forcément politiques ou formes de résistance.

Parmi les limites évoquées qui m'ont touché, il y a :

un rappel que les endroits de lutte sont avant tout des espaces qui se pensent en collectif

les notions de joie ~ de soin ne devraient pas se limiter à de la consommation, du matérialisme ou de l'esthétisme ; globalement à une récupération capitaliste

je cite Fania Noël : "ce qui serait honnête et radicalement honnête, c'est de se dire qu'on est des êtres humains qui désirent, qui veulent, qui aspirent à des choses qui ne sont pas forcément radicales ou révolutionnaires dans le sens d'un changement du système, et c'est juste ok. [...] Là où la tension est, c'est le fait que beaucoup de gens ont un malaise d'assumer ce qu'ils veulent."

Perdre de vue cette réalité c'est jouer le jeu du néolibéralisme

[canesenzafissadimora]

"I vecchi hanno solo un diritto: quello di morire."

“Potrei dire che chi l'ha detto è un cretino, ma invece dirò che è stato utile: ha rotto una ipocrisia, perchè è vero che diamo fastidio. L'ipocrisia sui vecchi è tremenda, se non ci salviamo da soli, è l'inferno".

-«La gente è diventata troppo seria, io ho 91 anni ma ho la fortuna di essere molto ironica, così non mi accorgo della presenza della morte che mi osserva da vicino pronta a prendermi, e la mattina continuo ad alzarmi contenta».

«Che gli anziani non servissero a mandare avanti il Paese forse poteva essere vero un tempo ma se oggi guardo all’età di molti grandi industriali, architetti, professori, scienziati, spesso vedo settantenni e anche ottantenni.

Ci chiamano nonnini, nonnetti, a parole ci vezzeggiano ma poi ci mettono nelle Rsa, prima di metterci nella tomba».

«Che diamo fastidio perché costiamo, perché siamo una spesa medica e sociale, perché prendiamo le pensioni, perché occupiamo posti negli ospedali e case o abitiamo in quelle dei figli e magari abbiamo la colpa di continuare a fare un lavoro. Io ho una rubrica delle lettere sul “Venerdì di Repubblica”, a un certo punto qualcuno ha cominciato a scrivermi, una minoranza per carità, che era tempo che lasciassi posto ai giovani. Nello stesso momento lo stesso pensiero è passato per la testa di colleghe più giovani. Io non mi considero inamovibile, se mi dicessero che le mie cose non interessano più, che sono rimbambita, non più capace di scrivere o fuori tempo allora farei subito un passo indietro, ma non per una questione anagrafica, non perché sono vecchia. Non è una colpa».

«Ho la fortuna di aver sempre lavorato e risparmiato e di poter essere ancora indipendente, ma te lo ripeto: i vecchi danno fastidio e la gente non accetta che possano ancora lavorare. Dieci anni fa, quando avevo appena passato gli 80, un giorno un giovane tassista che aveva sentito che parlavo di impegni di lavoro al telefono, alla fine della corsa mi chiese: “Ma lei ancora lavora? Ma non è tempo di smettere e riposarsi? Che cosa fa?” Risposi: “Sa, sono una cuoca, continuo a cucinare”. A quel punto lui disse: “Ah, allora ok”. Se stai in cucina può andare bene, non disturbi troppo…».

«Ti regalo una notizia: non tutti i vecchi sono sordi! Questa è un’altra cosa che mi fa impazzire, ti parlano e gridano o scandiscono le parole, come se fossi sorda o rincretinita. Ci trattano come i bambini e ogni frase finisce con il sorriso. Poi ci sono quelli che vogliono rassicurarti e con tono consolatorio ti dicono: “Dai, che vivrai fino a cent’anni”. Ma fatti gli affari tuoi, io non ho futuro ma ho un bellissimo passato, ho vissuto nell’Italia meravigliosa della ricostruzione e del boom economico e sono piena di memorie che mi tengono compagnia, non ho bisogno di compassione».

«Io, da giovane, i vecchi nemmeno li vedevo, non ho mai conosciuto i miei nonni e vivevo sempre tra i miei coetanei. Quando avevo 16 anni ricordo che i miei amici erano tutti innamorati di una ragazza bellissima che di anni ne aveva 26, io ero stupita e continuavo a chiedere: ma come fa a piacervi una così vecchia?! Quante cose ho visto, durante la guerra ho assistito al matrimonio di una mia amichetta che aveva 14 anni e che aveva avuto la dispensa dal vescovo per sposarsi con un ragazzo che partiva per il fronte. Mi piacciono tanto le storie del passato, le conservo con cura, ma senza alcun rimpianto».

«Porto sempre con me il bastone quando esco, mi aiuta a camminare ma serve anche molto, non tanto per difesa quanto per offesa, mi è utile con i giovanotti maleducati o con i vecchi che non sanno stare al mondo. Poche settimane fa, durante il mio piccolo giro intorno a casa, ho dato dei soldi a un ragazzino africano. Un signore mi ha vista e ad alta voce ha cominciato a criticarmi, dicendo che venivano dall’Africa per colpa di gente come me che li mantiene e li foraggia; gli sono andata incontro mentre continuava a criticarmi, ho alzato il bastone e gliel’ho messo sotto il mento e gli ho detto soltanto: “Non permetterti di dire un’altra parola, fascista”. Si è dileguato».

«Vivo alla giornata, la mia vita comincia la mattina quando mi sveglio e finisce quando vado a letto la sera, sperando sempre di morire nel sonno. Sai, io non sono vecchia, non sono un’ottantenne, io sono ultra-vecchia, penso spesso che potrei avere un figlio di più di settant’anni».

«A chi è giovane oggi vorrei dire: “Svegliatevi, informatevi, leggete libri, è una cosa che costa poco, puoi fare da solo e riempie di gioia”. Non è mai tempo perso!»...

Natalia Aspesi

[diavolosbaby]

I now write for twisted wonderland!

Requests open!

• angst, fluff, comfort, suggestive things (no full smut)

• ok with heavy topics comfort! TW: ex. Suicide, self harm, r@pe, sa, abuse, injuries, etc

• all characters (including staff) except rsa students!

• it's all fiction to me, so I will write student x teacher relationships, yandere topics, and poly relationship with the twins (both dating you)

• if you have any questions on what I will write, message me! I'm nice I swear!

[ohemaa-warrior]

@alvallah tagged me to list 10 songs from my ‘on repeat’ list on Spotify. I'm not even sure there'll be any consistency to it

Pretty typical for me

Tagging

@maggi-cube @amabackwards @erresea @somaligovernment @catboycrimsonrain @almondcroissantgirl1