#sorry this took so long i was defending my thesis <- AND THATS THE LAST TIME I MENTION THAT!!!!!!

[mazeyphaedra]

Ep 19 is so conflicting for me because it was fun but even giving it all a little bit of thought it’s really just 😬. Like yeah y’all really just did that. And that. And that. Okay. It’s just kind of sad in so many ways once you start to think about it all. For both the RGs and the BKs if that makes sense? It’s obvious with the Rat Grinders but Like the bad kids really think they’ve beat Porter’s game but this episode kind of proves that they’re worse than they used to be. That everything Porter and Jace and the RGs did DID affect them and when it comes down to it they didn’t have to do much to get them there beyond annoying them. I feel like in the end they’re becoming the versions of themselves that the Rat Grinders hated. Like okay you’re popular. You can fucking decimate anyone you choose to. But do you actually care about the people around you anymore? Or is it just being adored and showing the only people that dislike you in basically the entire school up?

ooouughhh anon im being so real w u this can be its own post. i had drafted a whole response but that was about pc choices i was kinda horrified by but then i had a talk w a friend that put things into perspective for me so i just decided to share part of my side from that convo:

which i guess segues me into ur last two qs: the bad kids were in their own way caring abt the ppl around them!! (im being so gracious rn. i think, tho they were reacting in defense of mazey, that they way they treated ivy was awful.) in even just the pc Hero thing of Saving The Town like that counts as caring right.

as for showing the only people that dislike you in basically the entire school up. i dont think this is the case actually bc (and many other ppl have said this more eloquently) the rat grinders are not on the bad kids' radar! like at all. they simply dont register. like to me they feel like the people at school u forget about when u graduate.

ive also not been here the whole time so the 'this was always going to happen. [all of our beloved story beats have not been resolved in a satisfying manner] since the beginning' thing is made more disappointing for me. but i still love this season and if i detach the part of myself that enjoys the story over the game for just long enough i can ooh and aah over bad kid badassery for an untold number of hours

[reficule]

A story of a bus ride

Recently I have been finding it a little hard to battle the overbearing suicidal feelings I tend to keep away for the most part.  Also no need for alarm, the feelings are there, but still not to the point of acting upon them (Especially as I am basically the one safety net for about 7 kids if any of them should not conform to the standards of the fams...). But yeah shits not been great, and fuel for the mental trash fire that is my brain so to speak.

Regardless, those shitty feelings are there, and so I try and think back to some moments in my life which I could consider defining as in a way armor to help withstand the assault of the mind (ass is a real good way to describe my mind btw).

One such moment takes place back when I was in college. I think it was my second year (was like early 2000s). I had to take a bus back to my mom’s place, which was pretty much half the length of NC, well prolly closer to 2/3s the length. Raleigh is in a weird non centery kind of place. I had no other way back, dorms were closing, and I had to get back to handle fam stuff. So a Greyhound ride it was.

It was going to be bad enough cuz small space, packed with people,  small spaces I can handle, but people...ha (though I think a bus is roomier then a plane... not by much.). Fortune would have it the bus wasn’t packed packed, but a fair amount of peeps in it.

I had a whole row to myself really, it was nice, no one wanted to sit with the creepy goth girl with her biology text book open that had some gnarly looking pictures (science is awesome for saving the introvert in small spaces sometimes, add in some spiked collars, and black clothes, it worked better then camouflage in the south east there ;) )

Usually I try to make myself small (HA, as if, I am like built like an amazon, perhaps a tad short, but I got the mass and bone structure) and keep my nose in the book. However at this one stop I happened to look up. The bus was getting a bit more to full, and I guess my resting bitch face served as the final deterrent for those eyeing the empty seats next to me. Thats right, keep on moving. Though one of the last ones on, was this small build of a thing, and they walked pass the rows of people with this look. i could tell what it was, I have seen it alot in my time. That hint of fear, nervousness, and oh god don’t let anyone start shit.

Finally they got to my row and asked if they could take a seat. I said no probs, and let them scoot in. Let them get settled and then took up my seat again and got back to what I was doing.

Now usually, I don’t like talking to people (I don’t often have anything worth saying, and its exhausting. Even more so as often its not a conversation, but more akin to people forcing me to defend a thesis cuz they desire to be ignorant pucks). However my new seat mate inquired what I was reading. I explained I was just trying to get ahead for finals and stuff while on the ride, what I was studying, degree stuff, blah blah blah. The usual small talk on travel stuff really.

A bit in, my seat mate starts to look a bit alarmed. I asked what was wrong and they was like, I can’t find my medication. I was like oh, damn, what kind of bottle, labeled, etc, as I hopped out of my seat and got to knees on the floor. After a good rummage through the bags they found it! And there was much rejoicing. Though I did catch the label. At the time it was a fairly new drug mix for AIDS.

I will never forget that look on my seat mate’s face - it was like you caught them cheating on a lover or something. They apologized for not mentioning it, and started explaining their fear and such. I let them go on, until there was a long enough paused and I asked how they were fairing with the side effects, and what were they pairing it with. With a small apology for the curiosity, they didn’t have to answer, but I had remembered reading the article describing the trials they used the medication in.

I don’t think they knew how to respond at first, after all even now people like get all weird around AIDS and such. But it was kind of like, you ain’t mad or scared? Me being me, I start babbling on everything I have ever read on the AIDS virus. I knew for a fact I was safe, unless we suddenly decided to do a bit of a blood swap (other fluid swap wasn’t/isn’t an option with me ;p), nothing was going to happen. However I knew full damn well their fear was justified and did my best to assure them, in our row, it was a safe row.

I count myself fortunate to have made the impression that I was someone they could talk to, as for the next couple of hours they got rant about something that in high odds they didn’t get much of a chance to. Though I remember the part that broke my heart the most. They were thankful for the doctors and nurses they were getting to see, their treatment plan had been going rather well. They confessed people out in the public, they kind of expect the reactions, still bothersome, but it stung more when they caught the medical personal acting the same. Nothing like them going in to get blood drawn, and someone that hasn’t worked with them before sees their chart and catches them trying to not touch them, or getting all freaked out during a visit. They said they did have some personnel apologize after catching themselves doing it.

They looked so sad as they spoke. You could just see all that emotional weight bearing down on them. Sure some extra safety precautions is expected, but to be even treated as such by those that are suppose to know about it. It is that kind of look as if one had no escape from a prison.

I listened to their words, just letting them speak. I am not much of a talker, but I can listen for years. Once they seemed done, I told them I was sorry they were experiencing such things and hoped that maybe one day the stigma will be worked out. It was then I also took the time to ‘properly’ introduced myself offering up a hand to shake with my name. With a smile they took my hand and returned in kind. A small gesture, but they seemed a lot less gloomy after it.

Afterwards we moved on to other topics, turns out we had similar tastes in sci-fi shows and books.

I don’t know what happened to them after that, but at least I know for a few hours, on a trip they had no idea how it was going to go (there was a very real risk they coulda been kicked off the bus, or worse), it was made better. All because we were kind to each other.

And really one of my better times riding a bus thanks to that person. I count myself lucky to have met them.