I will forever stand by the thought that simply “being online” and consuming or even posting content, takes a completely different amount of energy than messaging or interacting with others online does.
but that’s something I had to train myself to acknowledge and learn. because it used to hurt and make me overthink when i’d message someone and they wouldn’t respond, but would still be active or posting. like I wouldn’t say that to them, but it overtook my thoughts.
then somehow I just stopped and realized- maybe they’re just tired. or maybe they’re scrolling on the phone in their 5 minutes of free time. maybe they’re in the middle of 3 conversations and are trying their best. maybe they’re in the middle of making a post and didn’t see your message. maybe they’re deep into searching a topic and can’t be distracted. or maybe they just don’t want to talk to you rn, and that’s perfectly okay and valid.
all that to say- it can still hurt sometimes, but giving people grace and thinking the best of them and their intentions, and sincerely hoping they do the same for you, makes life so much more enjoyable, and I highly recommend ♡
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literally the people in the BrBa fandom who like think its super important to focus somewhat on the bad things Jesse's done instead of just acknowledging those things tend to have misunderstandings on either how selling drugs increase harm (which while there's other complexities to parts of the drug trade, simply making and providing drugs alone does not increase the harm those drugs cause) or they have misremembered some of his actual actions as being more in his control than they actually were, and with some people it really feels like it comes from the stigma against addicts even if they think they're not falling into that
and like again this lack of understanding around everything relating to drugs and addiction especially, even from people that mean well, is the whole reason it's more important to focus on the good in Jesse and how he's the victim rather than acting like there's no one acknowledges his flaws and the bad things he's done, cause a huge fucking swath of people outside our little tumblr circles do and act like every single bad thing in his life as entirely his responsibility without aknowledging any way that the world worked against him or the abuse he faced and see him as less of a person because he's an addict
and like I do think if Jesse wasn't the type of person that sees his own flaws and ultimately tries to do his best to change and learn even in the terrible situation he's in that doesn't want that change to happen, and instead needed people to like... constantly tell him to be better, then yeah it'd definitely be much more important to focus on those flaws and the bad things he did... but that's not the case, even the one thing he plans to do that was awful AND fully his choice (trying to sell drugs to the rehab group) was something he snapped himself out of when he was able to concretely see a consequence he hadn't considered before, this doesn't negate that trying to sell drugs to the rehab group was wrong, but it does add complexity to how we judge that action playing into Jesse as a whole
like you can't just sit there and act like ur so smart for aknowledging a character written like a real person is complex without thinking about the greater social commentary you're getting across when you insist we can't simply aknowledge the bad things a character does and have to still really judge them on those things or say calling them a "good person" erases the bad they've done and not consider if what you're saying is like... useful on a wider scale in combating the stigmatization of characters like Jesse (especially surrounding drug selling/making/using drugs) or if you're just refering to "woobification" bullshit that isn't particularly prevalent in the wider world
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also that whole crab day thing seems odd to me because. there’s literally no guarantee that your money will result in a roll back of these changes, right? you’re just paying them. sure it’s good to support the site and I’m not saying you shouldn’t. But like. I don’t think a few people buying the crabs is going to make them suddenly take back all their BS.
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@monmuses 〢 cont from here .
Why Tweek is here—well, he has been following other people for his entire life. He probably wouldn’t have shown his face here of his own volition, knowing that a man like him is distinctly unwelcome. But about everybody in town attends Bebe’s parties, and that means he was always going to end up in the company of someone who wanted to go, and he would let himself get dragged along like always.
Except now he has lost sight of the person he came with, and fearing that they have left him here, the rapid pulse in his throat threatens to strangle him. He’s shaking, and he knows it’s more from anxiety than meth because he can feel himself coming down a bit. He’s sweating, too, rubbing his arms through the sleeves of his dark green parka coat, which he still has not and will not take off, despite how warm he is. ‘Take off your coat and stay a while,’ is what people say to folks who belong someplace, which he doesn’t. Furthermore, there are things under that coat that he doesn’t want anyone else to see, and he’s afraid he will lose it.
He shakes his head as he backs away from her, toward the kitchen entrance. “No, no—just the phone right now, thanks.”
When he staggers into the kitchen, a couple is talking in the corner, and he tries to ignore them, although he can see their soft murmuring grating on him very fast. He tells himself to just call and get out as he lifts the phone from the receiver. It takes him a second to remember the number he’s trying to reach, and he needs to get a cellphone so he can save people’s numbers—that’d help him with job stuff, too. After spending some time running his fingers over the phone buttons as if their texture holds some answer for him, he remembers and punches it in.
And waits.
Every time the phone rings, it makes the lump in Tweek’s throat slightly bigger. And then, Hey, this is Redd, I’m not available right now, leave a message. The beep plays, and Tweek sits in silence for a second, trying to think what to say. The guy is probably asleep or high out of his mind, and he wants to scream into the voicemail, Wake the fuck up, you lazy piece of shit! But he knows that will not get him out of here any faster if Redd is not awake or lucid enough to listen to the message, and he slams the phone back on the receiver.
Tweek tries to think of who else he could call, who else might care enough to get him out of this place, and the only two numbers that are coming to him are his parents’ and Craig Tucker’s. And he would rather lodge a bullet deep in his skull than call either of those.
“Goddammit… goddammit!” he says, drawing looks from the couple in the corner, who lean in closer to each other, more conspiratorially. He paces back and forth in short steps in front of the phone, making talons with his hands. “That motherfuh—piece of—bastard!” He’s stuck here, he thinks—oh, God, he’s fucking stuck here until he can compose himself enough to walk back to Redd’s since he’s sure he can’t remember the directions now, not with the panic setting in. He can’t take Bebe up on her offer for a ride, either, because it’s her party, and he can’t draw her away from it.
He leaves the kitchen and manages to find Bebe again, slinking up to her with his brows slanted in a miserable expression. He’s hunched over, trying to make himself even smaller and unobtrusive. As long as he’s going to be here a bit longer, he has to admit that he is thirsty. “Actually, can… can I get a water, after all?”
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