my deepest darkest secret is that i have a timeline in my head of the development of heizou and my relationship which i haven’t told anyone before and play through my head (almost) every night before i go to sleep
(last night i went on a full, like, half-hour long ramble to myself about the intricacies of our relationship. it’s basically a queer-platonic relationship with sprinkles of romantic interaction lmao. honestly i kind of wish i’d recorded it, but it was like 1am and i couldn’t be bothered to get my phone up, plus i was whispering under my breath anyway, so any recordings would have sounded weird as hell (weirder than it already is), but… yeah. that happened.)
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This just in: Yoko genuinely believes that John had a vision about a man on a flaming pie who told him the name of the Beatles.
“[John] wrote a piece called ‘On The Dubious Origins Of Beatles’, and the basic line that we all laughed at was something like “I had a vision and a man came unto me on a flaming pie and said ‘You shall be Beatles with an ‘a’, and so it was.” We took this to be Goon humour and a sort of Biblical joking – “and God said unto thee ‘come forth’, and he came fifth”. That’s very much the humour that was going around Liverpool at the time.
Now, it turned out that we couldn’t have this in the Anthology because Yoko believes that John did have a vision. I’m very friendly with Yoko now so I don’t want this to look like a snide thing, but it genuinely intrigues me that she thinks this. And the way I tried to put it to her was, you can say, “I had a vision” and people will go “OK”. You could say, “A man came unto me”. “OK, it’s starting to sound a little biblical, but it’s all right, still.” “On a flaming…”. “Yes, this is OK, it’s even more biblical”. Now, if you’d have gone to the word “chariot”, we would be all right. Or if you’d gone to the word “phoenix” we would be all right. But the word “pie” is a dead giveaway. “A man came to me on a flaming pie?” I know, in my mind, that John didn’t have a vision about this, but the way Yoko puts it is, “If it’s OK for Paul to dream ‘Yesterday’ then it’s OK for John to have a vision.” So these are the kind of things that cropped up. It’s only a difference of opinion so it doesn’t matter vastly. We’ve tried to make our point, she’s made her point and we’ve arrived somewhere in the middle.”
— Paul McCartney, Club Sandwich Interview, November 1st, 1995
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it's been said before and i'm sure said better than i can phrase it. but really, really - if you like making "i'm going to kill myself" jokes, please try switching to being ironically conceited instead.
anytime something goes wrong, say things like "ah well at least i'm beautiful and charming and everyone loves me." when you forget something, try "my big huge brain is so smart and thinking about too many other very big wizardly thoughts you wouldn't even understand." when you're frustrated by one of your symptoms, start talking like you're in My Immortal. "Life has come for me but my eyes are beautiful pools of gorgeous fire and my hair is amazing. I stuck my middle finger up at life and told it to fuck off and it did."
just... try it for a month or two. try saying the most absurdly self-congratulatory shit you can think of.
i know it's tempting to make suicide or self-harm jokes. and for me at least, a decade ago (!) when someone suggested i stop making those kinds of jokes, i was kind of at a loss for what to replace them with. i wanted to make light of these moments, but genuinely (at the time) my first thought really was suicidal ideation. there was a part of me that even felt like ... i was kind of "making light" of that voice. that if i could say i want to die lol, it would help take the sting out of that genuine (albeit passive) desire. like i could turn my illness into a joke.
when i started complimenting myself instead, it felt awkward and stupid. it felt really, really ironic. what i was actually saying was nobody would ever think this stuff about me, that's what makes it so fucking funny.
but. the effect was immediate. first thing i noticed was the people around me. when i dropped a glass and said ah my skin is too beautiful and sleek the glass has swooned and broken for me, other people were suddenly overjoyed to jump in with the joke. rather than making an awkward moment, we'd both start cracking up. ah princess sleek hands, i've heard of you.
i was 19. i hadn't noticed i'd been making others tense when i said i want it all to end. i know now that it's incredibly hard to know how to walk that moment - do you talk to them about your concern? do you potentially make them uncomfortable by asking if they're okay? do you ignore the situation? do you help them pick up the glass, or do they need to do it by themselves? are they genuinely made suicidal over this small moment? and most importantly, how do you - without professional training or supplies - actually help?
most people want to help you pick up the glass in your life, they just have no fucking idea how to do it. they don't want to make anything worse. they don't want to make assumptions about you. they love you, they're scared for you - and being scared makes people kind of freeze up. it's not because they don't love you. it's because they do.
now when something bad happens, my first thought is how can i make a stupid joke about this. it isn't my brain saying you're a dumb fucking bitch. i spend more time laughing. i spend more time being gentle with myself. i spend more time feeling good.
and the thing is - what's kind of funny - is that you'd be surprised by how many people agree with you. the first time i said i'm too pretty to understand that, someone else said to be fair you're the prettiest person in this room. i promise - you really don't know how kindly your friends see you. but they love you for a reason. they sort of reverse-velveteen-rabbit you. your weird and ugly spots fade away and you just become... the love they want to give you.
go love yourself ironically. the worst thing that happens is that you end up tricking your reflection into actually loving you.
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