#sorry if this reads like a barely legible stream of consciousness

[koshercosplay]

I don't trust that the people who advocate for direct resistance against the super-rich are actually capable of recognizing their targets

I see so many posts that joke about "going back to the old days when people just burned down the rich people's houses and killed the wealthy and redistributed their riches" oh you mean like Literal Pogroms?

like there's been a very clear pattern throughout history of the working people seeking retribution getting quickly redirected by the rich into targeting Jews as the real root cause of society's problems and hoarding wealth that rightfully belongs to the people

idk maybe this is just my anxious fear-mongering brain but like so much of this rhetoric around trying to "take back our rightful wealth" or whatever feels so close to what would be said to whip up a mob and justify a pogrom

and considering how much antisemitism there is on the left (and the right, but that's a different post), I can't help but wonder how long it would take for people to get swept up by the same exact antisemitism and start targeting jews, not even realizing they've fallen into the same trap that has been set for centuries by the same class of rich people trying to save their own asses

and people are just so ready and eager to target jews that it works

so remember folks. if someone starts to claim that the real source of everyone's problems is the historically persecuted minority, maybe give yourself a second to think: who does this redirection benefit?

[klypso01]

Inner Child

Lately, in my counseling, I’ve been studying the idea of having an inner child. Believe me, it’s a rather difficult idea to delve into as it involves being really vulnerable, but one way I’ve found to connect with my inner child has been to write down my meeting with her. Beware, this is going to be a long post, but I wonder how many of you will be able to relate. Her name is pronounced A-kiss-edge, just so you know, don’t worry, I won’t use it much.

***

The room was mostly silent as I peered around, as was the case with many of these types of situations the only sound was a sniffling that was obviously coming from the closet. I wandered over and pulled the sliding door open looking around at the clothes in confusion… The sound was coming from here, but all I could see was clothes and a million papers strewn throughout the space.

“You can’t be here!” A small voice yelled from the depths, which made me lean in slightly to see who had said that, “Please close the door, it’s dangerous!”

Finally, I was able to see the origin of the voice, a young girl was hiding behind several rows of clothing, only her right eye and a small sliver of her face was visible behind the dresses that provided good camouflage for her, “Dangerous?” I murmured out, careful not to do anything that could startle her, “What’s dangerous?”

Her eye widened and the clothing rippled, indicating she was moving, “You don’t know?” When I shook my head she seemed to think about that carefully, “Okay, you can come in then, just close the door behind you.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle slightly as I did what she said, she sounded so bossy at that moment, it really was cute, as soon as the sliding door was closed behind me, the clothing rippled again as the young girl sat forward, her whole head popping out as she stared at me nervously.

Her hair was a light brown that reached her shoulders before it ended raggedly, as though it were chopped off in hasty strokes. Her eyes were underlined with dark circles, but even that couldn’t cover up her inquisitive, hazel eyes that watched my every move cautiously. Just judging by her face and neck, I could see that the poor girl hadn’t eaten in a while, which, paired with the quiver that hadn’t stopped since she first came out led me to believe that she had been living in fear for quite some time.

“Who are you?” The young child stammered out, a look of complete and utter panic embedded on her face. It was heartbreaking, to say the least, and if things continued the way they were, I would likely have to leave her here too…

“My name’s Jessica,” My voice was calm as I bent over so I could look her in the eyes without appearing to look down on her, “What’s your name, my dear?”

Silence filled the closet for several seconds as we stared at each other, the dried tears obvious on the girl’s face, “My… My name is Acissej, but, but my friends call me Aussie,” Acissej paused looking back down into her lap, “At least, they would if I had any friends. I used to, but I don’t know any more… Its been so long.”

Carefully I moved aside a whole heap of clothes that were on the floor as I shifted to sitting, being careful not to rip the papers, “How long have you been in here?” I needed to get her story, that was what mattered right now.

I could see the gears moving in Acissej head as she considered that, “I…” She started before her breathing began to pick up, “I don’t know, it isn’t easy to remember in here!”

This was fairly usual for this type of situation, so I wasn’t too surprised, “That’s okay,” I said quietly, not wanting to touch her in case that was a trigger of some kind, “You don’t need to know that. Is it okay if I ask you some more questions?” Finally, the young girl looked me in the eyes before she nodded slowly, “You mentioned that it’s dangerous outside, what’s out there that is so scary?”

Once again, her breathing picked up as tears welled in her eyes, “You… You really don’t know?” I shook my head and she sobbed, “No one seems to know, it’s like I’m the only one who has to be scared. I don’t like being alone like this, I wasn’t even given a choice, I was just thrown in here one day, and ever since then whenever I try to come out a monster yells at me, tells me that I’m bad, sometimes it even pushes me.” Acissej’s head was buried in her knees as she cried, making everything inside of me want to reach out and pull her into my arms, “What did I do that was so bad? What could I have done to make everyone hate me?”

That last question broke me, I scooted forward as much as I could before reaching out and pulling her into my arms. She stiffened slightly, but soon enough she had snuggled into the warmth that I provided, throwing her arms around my neck as she continued to cry. My hand gently stroked through her hair and I murmured quietly, “It’s not your fault. It was never your fault.”

Slowly she regained control over their tears and sat back, wiping her eyes as they slowly continued to leak out, “If it's not my fault, then why does everyone push me away? Why do I get treated like a terrible person? It just doesn’t make sense any other way.”

She certainly was perceptive, the soft light of the closet illuminated the situation dully as I considered my answer carefully, she would be able to tell in a heartbeat if I tried to lie to her, “It isn’t your fault, people just…” I faded off, slightly unnerved by the careful way she watched me, this was harder than I thought it would be, “People don’t understand you as much. To them, you are the scary one, so they push you away, even if it isn’t nice.” Yeah, that was probably as much as I could say without hurting her more.

It was easy to tell that she didn’t entirely believe what I was saying, but she still nodded wearily, as though she had heard that before, “Okay, sorry about that,” Quickly she shifted off my lap, retreating to the back of the closet as she brought her knees back to her chest, “So why are you here?” I could still hear the slight hitch to her voice that showed she had been crying, but now it looked like she was determined to play cool.

“I’m here to see you, actually,” My voice was casual, but I could feel the anxiety picking up, this could go so badly, but I needed to talk to her, “I heard about you not long ago, so I wanted to meet and get to know you. If that would be okay with you.” I shrugged slightly, desperately trying to make it look like I didn’t feel awkward right now.

My words seemed to shock her, as she looked at me in shock, allowing her arms to fall by her side as she stared, “Me? Why would you want to see me?”

Carefully, I reached down and picked up one of the papers on the floor, it was covered in barely legible scribbles that, if I could read them, I had no doubt would form a random, stream of consciousness story, “You are someone I look up to,” I murmured, smiling fondly as I remembered the story that was posted on the page, “You think so freely and don’t worry about what you write or say, or even think. You’re so hopeful and willing to put yourself out there… I look up to you more than you would think.”

A silence fell between us as I continued to look through the papers on the ground, remembering each one as I grabbed it.

“You’re me, aren’t you?” Aussie muttered, causing me to look up. Her gaze was riveted on the floor and I couldn’t help but realize the fact that neither of us could make eye contact, “You’re the one who locked me in here, aren’t you?”

Shoot, here came the especially awkward part, “…Yeah,” Slowly I leaned back in the small space, allowing my back to rest on the wall behind me as I stared up at the ceiling, “Aren’t I just such a hypocrite?” I asked bitterly, “Coming here to rub your captivity in your face while I can come and go as I please. You must hate me.”

“I guess… Maybe a little,” Her voice peeped out, but I just couldn’t bring myself to look at her, “But, it’s not like your free either, so I think I might understand, at least a little.”

That caught my attention, but she wasn’t done yet, “You know when I was first put in here, I was so scared and sad, I wasn’t wanted, and for a long time I nearly gave up. I think I did hate you for a while, but, now that I see you…”

A soft hand touched my face, drawing my attention back to Aussie, “Your eyes,” She said quietly, “They’re just like mine.”

That finally brought my gaze back to hers, for the first time, we looked each other in the eyes, which, in turn, allowed me to see a reflection of myself, sad hazel eyes looked at each other for several seconds as I tried frantically to stop the tears that were welling up, but she wasn’t done.

“And it’s not like you left me in here with nothing to do,” A small smile crossed her face briefly as she gestured to the mess of papers that surrounded her, “I’ve been writing stories this whole time, some that were more important than others. Do you want to see what I’m most proud of?”

Without waiting for an answer, she turned around and reached into the den of dresses that were behind her, grabbing out several stacks of paper that had been tied into groups with ribbon, “You actually let me out to write these,” Her voice wavered as I looked down at the substantial books, “Anime was a good choice, you should keep going with it.”

I chuckled weakly as I grabbed the novels, books I recognized immediately as the fanfictions I wrote… Obviously, they were possessions that held a dear place in both of our hearts, “Don’t worry, I don’t think I could stop if I tried.”

Silence fell again, but this time it was a bit more comfortable, I was simply thumbing through the words I could nearly recite in my sleep. Each of these had a piece of my heart poured into them, which made them far more special than most of what I had written.

“What other things do you like?” I murmured, still preoccupied with our stories.

Aussie snorted, causing me to look up at her, “Shouldn’t you know that already? I like the same things you do, everything you love, even if you are a bit ashamed of it.”

I nodded, acknowledging the pain that resonated behind the words. “Yeah, I guess you do, don’t you.” Sighing, I put the books aside, impressed with how heavy they were in physical form, “I’m working on getting you out of here, you know.” My tone was casual, but I could see the surprise flash across her face as I spoke, “It’s about time you see the sun again, isn’t it?”

“You…” Aussie started but quickly she stopped herself, perhaps to hide the tremble that I could clearly hear, just in that one word.

“You’re such a big part of my life,” I spoke before she could pull herself together enough to continue, shifting uncomfortably on the hard floor, “I need you, especially if I want to make my whimsical side my career. I need you, so that means I need to learn to let go of all the crap that’s holding me back because my insecurities have made me put on a mask for too long as it is.”

I watched as a tear tracked down her cheek, her mouth was hanging open slightly and her arms were resting on the floor by her sides. She was shocked, not that I could blame her.

I stood carefully, trying not to disrupt the mess too mess as I turned around and took a step towards the sliding door, “Just wait a bit longer, Aussie,” I said over my shoulder with a sad smile, “It’ll take time, but I promise not to forget you, I promise that I’ll get myself out of the hole I’ve dug.”

With that, I slid the door open and left, shutting it carefully behind me as I saw for the first-time what Aussie was afraid of; a black mass swirled in the middle of the room, hissing angrily at me. Inside the mass was a collection of many different things, a chimera head, my father’s face, every single scary thing that I could think of was there.

So, I wasn’t just fighting against myself, was I? I was fighting against my imagination, but this was the dark side, the side that saw everything wrong and amplified it by a million. The side that even now caused me to tremble in fear slightly as I edged around it, trying to avoid even getting close to it.

It would be a long time before this side of me was contained enough to let Aussie out… If it terrified me even now, the question was, how did I go about this?

[punnybonessnas]

Flashback!

Send ‘Flashback’to see one of my muse’s old memories

He snapped the book shut quietly, listening to his baby brother’s quiet snores, slightly muffled from his face being pressed against his oversized hoodie, his spindly arms wrapped around him even as he slumbered.

Sans chuckled low under his breath, setting the Adventures of Fluffy Bunny aside and stretching lazily, settling with his short arms around the dozing bitty bones, bumping his skull gingerly against Papyrus’s and closing his sockets.

He likely would have fallen asleep that way, curled beside his sibling in their shared Race-car bed, if there wasn’t a sudden lancing pain that spiked through his soul, the small skeleton weathering the agony in silence, ducking his skull and clutching Papyrus a bit closer.

When the torment finally passed, he was left panting for breath, opening his sockets only to close them again, disoriented from the black edging his vision.

Chronic pain, that’s what his father told him he was experiencing. It was because his soul was too weak to handle the abundance of magic it naturally produced.

He and his brother hadn’t come into the world like other monsters, there was no exact science to their stability compared to naturally born monsters. 

Sans had always been lacking in the stamina department, his HP was far below what it should have been at his age, and it seemed to only get worse as his magic further matured.

His soul was weakening.. he knew his father was working tirelessly trying to find a solution to the dilemma, at least with what little free time he had in between his projects for the King.

He wasn’t as blinded to the situation as he pretended to be.. his father would never admit it, but there was a very real chance.. if his soul continued to deteriorate.. 

His thoughts were interrupted from a small whine, opening his sockets and glancing down to his brother, who had buried his head against his chest, just over his weakly pulsing soul.

He let out a shaky breath, his natural grin faltering a bit while he rubbed Papyrus’s back soothingly, sending cool reassurance through their bond, hoping to dispel whatever nightmare had seized his sibling.

Once Papyrus had calmed and drifted back into peaceful dreams, Sans carefully slipped from his grip, sliding down off the bed and pulling the blankets over him, moving his own pillow closer for him to snuggle against.

He watched his brother sleep for a few moments more, resolve blazing to life in his white eyelights.

He couldn’t leave Papyrus.. no matter what.

If there was a chance.. he had to find it.

Gathering his magic, he opened an invisible rift that he had taken to calling ‘shortcuts’, stepping through it and into the familiar dark, barely there long enough to register a residual shudder before he found himself standing in his father’s lab.

It was always kept locked, the key always hidden on his person.

And for good reason.

Shivering from the foreboding chill that reigned throughout, Sans approached his father’s desk, rifling through research papers and calculations for various projects he was working on, until he found what he was looking for.

Tiny hands trembled a bit, scanning the information his father had compiled on his condition. The paper was barely legible, calculations angrily scribbled over, his desperation and frustration in his repeated failures was very apparent.

He was about to give up, convinced that his father was no closer to finding a viable solution.. until he reached the bottom of the page.  There was only a single sentence written, with no evidence of the enraged scrawls that dominated the rest of the report.

‘DT could work.. But it’s too dangerous to try..there has to be another way..’

Confused, he began to shuffle through the papers again, trying to find what “DT” could have possibly been referring to.

That was when he noticed his father’s locked desk drawer.. was unlocked, and partially open.

Swallowing back his fear, he slowly pulled it the rest of the way open, sockets widening at the lone object that lay within.

It was a small syringe, filled with a strange red fluid and topped with a hypodermic needle. Around the body of the syringe was a label reading simply “DT”

Sans stared at the syringe, a primal fear rearing up within him, making his soul twinge and a strong shiver surge down his spine. 

Whatever was inside that vial.. it was unnatural, an abhorrent abomination created inside this laboratory.. for what purpose, he couldn’t begin to fathom.

..But, did his dad believe it could save him.? 

Slowly, he uncapped the needle, eyelights seeming to cross slightly, dimming from fear. 

It was dangerous.. he would have been able to feel that even without his father’s words telling him so.. but time was running out. His attacks were getting worse.. and his father had made no headway in a cure. 

Nothing but.. this.

His jaw clicked from the force of which he grit his teeth, beginning to shake again, his grip tightening around the syringe so that his involuntary spasm didn’t force it from his grasp.

Moisture began to bead at the corners of his sockets, taking a shaky breath and calling forth his soul, the white glowing culmination of his being phasing through his hoodie, floating above his cupped hand.

Swallowing thickly, he steeled himself, squeezing his sockets shut, plunging the needle into his soul and injecting its contents before he could lose his nerve.

Agony of which he’d never experienced brought him immediately to his knees, a scream ripping from his nonexistent vocal cords, shuddering so powerfully his small skeletal frame was rattling, slumping in a slow collapse to the cold floor.

His consciousness was quickly fleeing, tears streaming down his cheekbones as he choked out a sob, his surroundings beginning to blur and muffle.

He stared at his quivering soul, a red crack beginning to form around the needle’s injection site, the empty syringe dropping to the floor just as the small skeleton fully collapsed, his sockets falling closed.

‘sorry papyrus..’

Those final words were mumbled into the floor, Sans succumbing fully to the black just as the lab door was burst open.