#they called it a disorder tho so that was :/ but i am going to forgive it because i have no principles

[archerofunspeakablelove]

NBC Hannibal certainly has an interesting relationship with neurodivergent representation

[bugs1nmybrain]

Shigaraki's Psychological Conditions Headcanons - (a long ass post)

So, I'll preface this by saying I am NOT a psychiatrist and am not qualified to diagnose shit. I do however have a history of personal mental health disorders and am going to school for mental health work. This is mostly just for theory sake. My word is not absolute

Let's begin

warnings: mental illness as title suggests, not proofread and probably has typos

Antisocial Personality Disorder / Conduct Disorder

This one sort of goes without saying cuz duh he's a villain or whatever. I want to specify that in terms of Antisocial Personality, he likely is a sociopath, NOT a psychopath

I hear people call him a psychopath all the time and it's infuriating because people throw around labels without understanding what they mean. Psychopaths are more cunning and charming, and very manipulative. This isn't to say that Tomura is none of those things. Psychopath, however, applies to people like All For One. Almost diplomatic and very persuasive.

Tomura is a sociopath because he's known for recklessness and abrasive behavior. Psychopaths often pretend to have feelings, but for sociopaths aggression is a key emotion that's visibly displayed. They are also able to feel remorse in some cases, and I run this back to Shigaraki because he spent years in what was implied to be repressed guilt regarding the death of his family. Tomura admits it himself in his flashbacks, but ultimately decides to let go of that guilt (that he still fucking feels and is in DENIAL but that's another post). Hence, his forgiving nature toward his mother and sister when he's dreaming during surgery.

Even after Tomura let that burden go, he has no desire to be cool and collected, he just fucks around and finds out. Overall, though, he disregards people's lives and doesn't have remorse for what he's done because he throws his trauma and desires over it as a bandaid. He does show care and consideration to people in the League, though.

The conduct disorder part of it is self-explanatory. He's a violent criminal, lol.

Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD)

Duh.

Trauma is pretty much all Tomura has known. I won't reiterate his backstory, but being physically abused and rejected as a child, the murder of his family, being blatantly ignored by people on the streets, and AFO's upbringing? That's a lot

His PTSD is so dehibilitating that it took hold of his body language and behavior. Before the end of s5, Tomura was rigid and hunched over. In the MHA video games, he's also seen as very restless and moving his body around (until s4 era in One's Justice 2). I'll attach a video below.

He's also just very irritable and easily set off at the reminders of his trauma and rejection. "I HATE YOU" is a key example, as up to that point Tomura had been improving his rash behavior, but he's very unsettled by his past and continues to be now.

Obsessive Compulsive Disorder

His case of OCD is connected to his trauma and emotions. You'll find that a lot of his conditions feed into one another. For him, he has a variant of dermatillomania (often known as the skin picking disorder). For him, that is in the form of scratching rather than picking. But he does it compulsively and without thought, and he does it in attempts to self soothe. I believe he does it occasionally as a self injurious behavior, resulting in itching himself rather than lashing out. He even just does it when he's only moderately anxious or irritated.

Depression

While we don't see Shigaraki slumped in bed or feeling sad in the ways we see in many cases of depression, his "I hate everything" mentality puts him here. Actually, it's safe to say he experiences anhedonia, which is the lack of enjoyment in anything. He seems to somewhat enjoy video games, but his bio states "nothing" as his likes. I'm inclined to believe he feels no personal joy or happiness, and tries to attain that through murderous rage. Never works tho, does it Tomura?

Bipolar Disorder and Unspecified Psychotic Disorder

This one might stir some debates, but I do genuinely think he has a mood disorder. I don't want to feed into stigma that bipolar and psychotic people are "evil," because I myself have these conditions, so maybe I'm projecting lmao. He's definitely not medicated, and so I'd say his case is Bipolar Type 1. This type is characterized by intense manic symptoms, though depressive symptoms can be severe, too.

Tomura has manic tendencies, and he's impacted by mania in that he seems to get spontaneous motivation, but he also will stay stagnant for some time. I saw this as the case when Spinner literally went at Shiggy for putting the League in a complacent stage, but he's done this before, such as when he was in a slump about Stain. When his motivation surges, though, he goes above and beyond and doesn't put extensive thought into it. He just lunges into his desires in pursuit of satisfaction. He also has delusions of grandoisity to some degree and has a moment where he treats himself as invincible. He fought Gigantomachia for almost two months, and kept fucking going at him. Surely, he could've asked the doctor to call him off, but Tomura wanted that power so bad. Tomura also went into his surgery without asking many questions about it. He makes very impulsive decisions, even after people insist that he "matured." He also gets flicked into motivation like a snap of a finger, and proceeds to be lead mostly by endorphins and gratification.

When Tomura experiences what he perceives as a "positive" emotion, it overtakes him. He becomes pretty much engrossed in his bodily sensations. Through maniacal laughter and taunting language that's charged in a hate induced fuel. When Shigaraki has "voila" moments, he has a surge in neuroactivity and gets into aggressive mood stages, but I guess that could apply to most of the villains. I saw this when Deku told him the difference between him and Stain, and Tomura had a surge in manic-like bliss and drive.

I'm not sure if Tomura hearing the voices of his family before his epiphany was just intrusive thoughts, but I thought they may have been auditory hallucinations. Tomura admits to hearing things that aren't there and seeing visual hallucinations, too. Evidenced by:

I hate how the dub translated this into "when you're this tired" as a broad statement. The manga gives this more personal association to Shigaraki, and he says that it happens when he's sleepy, and doesn't specify if it's only when he's extremely sleep deprived or just tired. Also, him staying up for days on end and smiling his ass off reeks of mania. He has delusional sprinkles in his thinking process, but they're not of bizarre nature, and are usually tied to his trauma. At this point in the manga he's very psychotic, though. That has a lot to do with him being fueled with adrenaline and also just breaking out of AFO's control.

I think he is either bipolar type 1 with psychotic features or has a mild case of schizoaffective disorder. Probably the first one, but I'm not sure.

ADHD (Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder)

This one is more of a gut feeling for me, but I see Tomura as being easily distracted and aloof to his surroundings at times. He's fidgety and does shit on whim.

Also, look at his room.

I'm not saying that everyone with ADHD has a messy room, but from what I can see, he goes from one task, drops it entirely without picking up, and goes to the next. Some could argue that Tomura simply doesn't care, and that's true, but he's at least got some decency to put the shit in trash bags. Trash bags that he HASN'T EVEN TAKEN OUT. I think he gets too caught up in the shit he's focused on that it slips his mind to do simple things like that.

He has spontaneous interests from what I can tell from the many books and toys he has that seem to have gone untouched for some time. He also hyperfixates, and I don't mean interest wise. I mean that when he's dwelling on something, it doesn't leave his mind for DAYS, until he gets some gratification. All Might in s1 and Stain s2 for example.

-

In conclusion, this boy has a grocery list of conditions, but I love Tomura. I love my beautiful prince with a disorder, and he is so dear to me.

I'm open to discussions about this, but please keep them respectful.

[waddledab]

wtf pls tell me abt your splatoon mlp au???

OH boy. oh boy. anon I am so glad you asked. putting this under a read more so I don't clog people's dashes lmao (also forgive me for my thoughts not being organized)

ok so this is based on friendship is magic bc that's the only one I've seen and it's like... if the mane six were in splatoon? specifically splatoon 3 bc that's the one I had on my mind lol anyways. freshness is magic

Twilight is an octarian soldier (like, the only one left for some reason) sent by Octavio to investigate the Splatlands about the disappearances of the other Octarians while he says he "won't be too far behind" (foreshadowing)

on the way there she meets spike. he's the "little buddy" smallfry of this. no he will not tell her what spike is short for or why he was in the middle of the desert when he met her

Oh yeah and only twilight can understand him bc she speaks salmonid. he just sounds like gurgles to the rest of the gang

twilight gets a transmission from Octavio basically telling her to go to Splatsville specifically, "blend in, make friends, keep a low profile, whatever"

just outside of splatsville they run into fluttershy (her name is probably different but I can't think of a good one so she's just fluttershy for now). she's a sea slug (kinda like flow) bc look at this image.

it's literally just her. come on

she's heading into town too and it basically goes like the show where she's like "omg is that a salmonid... wowie......."

MEANWHILE in Splatsville:

Pinkie (inkling), Dash (octoling who grew up in the Splatlands), and Jack (inkling) are all friends but they're in a bit of a pickle. they wanna do turf wars but they need a 4th person and the random people they keep getting matched with just don't vibe very well :(

enter twilight. (and fluttershy) (and spike)

Pinkie goes "GAAAAASP HEY HEY WANNA JOIN OUR TURF WAR TEAM"

at first twilight's like "Ugh no" but then spike is like "heyyyyy part of your missionnnn was making friiiiiends rememeberrrrr?"

so she joins the team. fine sure whatever I'm not gonna get attached (she gets attached)

Twilight is a charger main. e-liter menace

Dash is a dualies main because of course

Pinkie is good with all weapons tbh but her favorites are rollers and blasters

Jack mains N-Zap 64 and she is a tacticooler mvp

At one point they're like "Hey twi love the military drip but like you gotta get some drip"

enter rarity. i don't really have a clear mental image of her yet but she is crab. probably hermit crab? tamatoa ass back I know that for sure

she moved to the splatlands from Inkopolis and started a boutique there

she's a brush main btw "hey Earnest you dipshit only inklings and octolings do turf war" nuh uh big man canonically plays turf war AND salmon run so there

(fluttershy doesn't like doing turf war and doesn't have a main for obvious reasons) (but she does cheer them on) (spike does too bc he's not allowed in the Turf War building :( )

anyways. twilight and the gang are now besties. enter cuttlefish.

Dash: hey is it just me or is that old guy staring at us from the sewers

Pinkie: I'm gonna go follow him lol

this action has consequences.

they're all agent 3 now (3.1-3.7) but cuttlefish only has one set of hero gear. "sorry guys you're all shit out of luck" (of course twilight gets it bc protag disorder) and rarity's all "well Fine I can make hero gear for the rest of us"

crater proceeds as normal with twilight, pinkie, dash, and jack each taking one level. twilight is... *unnerved* by the current status of the octarian troops

enter octavio. hes fucking pissed. this is his natural state of being tho

he calls out twilight for being a TRAITOR and she feels bad blah blah blah they kick his ass

again it proceeds as normal but when twilight wakes up. she's alone (except for spike). as it turns out all of her besties landed on different islands somehow bc this might as well happen

Twilight is island 1, jack is island 2, pinkie is island 3, fluttershy is island 4, dash is island 5, and rarity is island 6 working on everyone's agent outfits all along so they got their group swag by the end of it

again story is pretty much the same from there. kill that bear

and so the world is saved with the power of friendship :)

unfortunately celestia and luna don't really exist by virtue of octavio kind of taking celestia's role? rip queens we loved you so much but you were replaced by old men unfortunately. sad

[kim-poce]

📔 for Eri. Bonus points if its about his new responsibilities and how hard it is to find someone to help Little One

Full House 18 - Dear Diary

Previous | Next

Masterlist

CW: pet whump, death mention, disordered eating mention, fear of food mention, feeding tube, caretaker new master.

=-=

Dear diary,

  Forgive me for the lack of entries the past three days, I had been busy (even if I barely got anything done), but since I got enough time now, and principally since I'm not too anxious tonight, I'll now explain how the last days went.

   Now for context, I didn't want to call Beckett, I really didn't, the fight over the morality of owning a pet (aka A WHOLE FUKING HUMAN BEING) is too clear in memory (and I'm sure that I could find an old journal describing each detail of that fight) so believe me when I say that I wouldn't have made that call if I had another choice.

  The doctors (the "people" ones, seriously I can't stomach how fucked up this all is), anyway, the "people" doctors refused to take the youngest... fuck it, the youngest person that I fucking own in, and I tried to change their mind, be it with my parents' name or money, I tried everything, but it didn't work.

  The "pet" doctors were sick assholes, I swear, the number of times I heard them recommending that I should, and I can't stress it enough, PUT THE BOY DOWN was sticking, and I'm fairly scared of talking on the phone now.

  Beckett was my last, and only, hope. I was lucky that he agreed to come, he swore that he changed his mind about the whole pet thing, and, Dear Diary, don't blame me for my trust issues but after days of talking on the phone with those asshole doctors, I wasn’t so sure if I should believe him. ANYWAY, "people" doctors can lose their license for treating a "pet" and Beckett said he would help anyway so I called him in.

  I, as you know, have been done everything FUCKING WRONG so OF COURSE I fought him, of course he would find out about my plans of "not letting Beckett alone with the boys" and for a second I was sure he would simply go away, I was ready to fucking beg him not to, maybe watching people beg every day lately made me think that when in stress > beg.

   I didn’t need to, tho, Beckett said he wouldn’t simply leave the patient alone, although that from that moment on he treat me as Patient Companion rather than an old friend (as he was treating me before) I won’t lie and say this didn’t make me sad, but to tell the truth, I’m too exhausted to feel anything but despair lately (which proved itself to increase the more tired I am).

   Now, about the still unnamed boy (I swear I want to call him by a real name, but I don’t want to give him a name without his consent) he is… alive, and will (hopefully) stay alive. Beckett put a nasogastric feeding tube on him, which is meant to solve the worst problem (food, seriously, I know they were my parents but I just can’t- forget it, not the point).

   I don’t want to be pessimist, and much less pretend I know those people I’m living with now, but I’m sure the boy will pull it out, he doesn’t care about orders as the other do, if I had to guess it was because following rules never kept the pain away. I don’t want to restrain the boy, but if, once he wakes up, he try to pull the tube out and doesn’t stop doesn’t matter what I say I’ll have no choice, I don’t want to think about it but from the way things are I’m sure I’ll add on his traumas, and I don’t think I can handle it (not that I have a choice but to handle it all.)

   The other boys are on their own for the past days, I know, I’m horrible for not giving them the attention I should, but if I see that door of a man shivering at my feet or that poor guy begging to be hurt AGAIN I’ll fucking lose it. I’m trying to tell myself that I can do it, but do I really? I’m looking up some safe houses just in case, but after those calls I doubt I’ll ever allow other people around them.

=-=

Taglist: @cupcakes-and-pain, @whump-blog, @wolfeyedwitch, @octopus-reactivated, @sufferfictionalcharacters, @rat-father, @badluck990, @onlybadendings, @inpainandsuffering, @mazeish, @neuro-whump, @freefallingup13, @sideblogformindtrash, @extemporary-username, @jadeocean46910, @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight, @melancholy-in-the-morning, @mylifeisonthebookshelf, @neverthelass, @pumpkin-spice-whump, @whumpfessional, @sinning-shipping-trash, @batfacedliar-yetagain, @scp-1296, @dont-touch-my-soup, @endlesscyclezz, @nicolepascaline, @rose-pinkie, @latenightcupsofcoffee, @dyingisbadforyourhealth

[outrunningthedark]

I wanna join your fight in pointing out how Shannon's behavior will have left deep scars on Christopher but it still hits too close to home. My mother didn't even leave, and she even broke down once trying to apologize to me (tho I still haven't been able to fully forgive her, I just can't trust her, I am not strong enough to bride that gap on my end) so like I can't even imagine what it's like for Christopher but dear God, I wish my father was anything like Eddie because all my father did when he was confronted was confirm that he thought everything he did was right - even though, he has more than once made fun of my self harm scars, and called me crazy, while using a spinning hand gesture by his head(I have mental disorders).

So like, yeah, Eddie has fucking learned and is there for his son, while Shannon just gave up, like Buck's parents did on him. It doesn't matter the reason, it doesn't matter that they were overwhelmed. It doesn't matter that my parents were war refugees, when a child needs their parent, especially when the whole world is built against the child's needs, and they're not there... That's a pain, a scar, that can seldom fully heal

Hello, my dear. 💕 The fact that you felt comfortable sharing your story with me lets me know I'm doing the right thing by exposing my own "horror stories". We need to know we're not alone in our fight for survival. I was raised and am still "cared for" by both of my parents, but neither one was or is anything like Eddie. My mother (as most of you know) was not confident in my ability to be independent when I was growing up, and even now will make comments about me not having the skills to help myself. Unless physical and occupational therapists told her to change her ways, or taught me something themselves (tying shoes was a big one!), she did what she believed was "best for her daughter", and that usually meant retaining control over my every move, because at least she would know I was *protected*. (I genuinely think my sister's death played a part in my mother keeping me sheltered whenever possible. It was her way of KNOWING I was safe - as long as I was always with my mom, or "letting" her make decisions, the world couldn't hurt me.) My father... he's not a bad guy. He gave me slightly more freedom when my mother wasn't around - if she was at work on a Saturday and I wanted to go to a friend's house on a whim he'd let me. And he'd even let me go for "walks" with them alone (ofc by "walks" I mean they'd push my chair down the sidewalk, lol). But, for the most part, he agreed with whatever choices she made because doing otherwise would trigger an outburst from her. I was born in a different decade than Christopher (Gavin), so how my parents handled my CP two/three decades ago is a lot different than how parents of kids with CP today deal with it. Research is more complex, new "treatments" are discovered - you can't cure CP, but the things I went through in my adolescence aren't necessarily a doctor's first choice nowadays. I didn't have sit downs with my mother or father where they explained my disability, where they told me I should never stop trying new things no matter how scary it seemed. They still don't have a grasp on what ableism is, if you want the truth, so I've never heard one of them genuinely apologize for mistreating me due to my limitations (unlike Eddie, who is quick to admit when he fucks up). All this is to say that people who want to play the "Eddie left, too!" card in defense of Shannon fail to understand the importance of him CHOOSING to stay even AFTER his wife decided it was her turn to go. He could have read that note and thought, "I'm still not ready to face Christopher's CP. I gotta get out of here." Instead, he realized his son needed him more than ever and took on three jobs just to pay the bills, and also to make sure Christopher had clothes to wear, food to eat, and a bed to sleep in. Everyone who follows me/reads my posts knows how much the "I actually like Shannon" conversation irks me. Yeah, yeah, it's a tv show, and maybe you don't have a disability so you can't relate to the pain. Or maybe you DO have a disability, but you lucked out and were born to parents who did not look at your condition as a burden. (I've heard that before.) I'm sorry, but when I look at Shannon, I see nothing redeemable in her character. Even before she passed, she told Eddie "I'm still learning how to be someone's mother." She had NO CLUE if she'd ever get her shit together. Let's not twist her words into something else just to make her more likable. She doesn't even NEED to be likable. Mothers leave their children everyday IRL, disabled or not. We don't fuck with them, do we? Why are we "defending" or "stanning" a fictional character who left her child, when really we should be grown enough to say "as sad as this may be, it's good that such a sensitive topic is being addressed"? Y'all will support domestic violence storylines (hello, Maddie stans!), internalized homophobia/homophobic families (Eddie stans hoping for that religious guilt to come through), but the mother abandoning her disabled son is where the problem lies? Hmmm. Alright. I wonder why that might be?

[respect-the-fae]

Things that remind me of: Ares

Sorry it's been a few days, life has been kind of a bitch, but I'm back with a post for my patron, Ares! I love him so much! This is gonna be a long one, I'll warn you now.

Weaponry. All weaponry. Whether it be a sword, a bo staff, escrima sticks or even sharp words falling off a tongue and destroying what they are aimed at. All weapons of every nature are this and remind me of him.

Boxing. I box alot, it reminds me of him and helps me feel close to him. How warm I feel, the ache in my arms, the bruises that form across my hands, the sweat dripping down my forehead. It all feels like he's there guiding me, reminding me to keep my guard up, and to keep my thumb out of my fist so I don't shatter it.

Red candles.

Bloodied hands and bruises. The type you get when your sibling gets beat up by the bigger kids and you go to sort them out because as annoying as your little sibling is, no one (NO ONE) messes with them.

Pink gin. Trust me, pink gin might seem like a weird one, but I have seen my mate single handedly knock out 2 guys who were threatening a trans girl while on pink gin. Pink gin is the Elixir Of Protective Rage and no one can tell me otherwise. (Dw, the girl is safe and we walked her home. We got takeout on the way and i cried bc she gave me a chicken nugget. We're friends now.)

Hunger Games, Divergent, Maze Runner. All about destroying their awful governing systems and rising up. Very Ares.

Using dumbass as a term of affection. With the same amount of love that people usually use when calling someone sweetheart or darling.

BIG HERO 6.

The concept of egging someone's house.

Snakes.

Having long baths/showers to avoid dealing with your emotional issues. Idk, just screams him.

Loving your crush/lover/spouse so fucking much, genuinely wouldn't hesitate to kill for them if someone hurt them.

Courage, all types of courage. Speaking out about racism in a protest, leading a protest, telling your boss about the coworker that scares you and harassed you. Telling a teacher about your parents if they're abusive. Standing in front of a crowd and giving a speech. Attending rallies, going to Pride, telling your bigoted family to suck a dick when they're being rude about trans/coloured/gay people, posting that post you were debating to do or not, sending your script/novel/anthology/biography to your agent, selling your art. Loads more that my brain refuses to give me right now. They are all brave, courageous acts that Ares loves and is so proud of you for. He watches you swallow down the fear and he rewards you with that glow of good adrenaline afterwards. That's his way of sort of kissing you on the forehead and telling you he's proud.

Rescuing animals from shelters. Ares is definitely very passionate about Adopt Don't Shop.

The Enemies to Lovers trope in fanfic.

Comfort items. Items that make you feel put together and braver. Mine is my Angel (from Lilo and Stitch, the pink experiment, teddy bear I got to match the Stitch one my friend has), I barely ever let it go if I'm in the house.

Poppies.

Baseball bats. The game too, but mainly the bats.

Petty 'wars' with siblings or coworkers. Snatching lunches and snacks, leaving passive aggressive post it notes.

War. Conflict. Rage. Obviously. But also bravery. Courage. A thirst for justice.

Protection. Of all kinds.

Weighted blankets.

Podcasts. True crime, and fictional horror ones. The Magnus Archives reminds me of him, idk why. (FOR REAL THO, ITS SO FUCKING GOOD, GO LISTEN TO IT. I WOULD DIE FOR JON, ITS ON SPOTIFY.) (And YouTube too.)

Learning about your friend's special interests because they mentioned they don't feel able to talk about it for fear of annoying people. And damn if you're gonna let that happen, so you're up till 5am reading The Other Boleyn Girl by Philippa Gregory so you can talk to them about it, and give them a safe space to info dump and share their thoughts and feelings.

Geese. Yes they are bastards. But they are feathery, beautiful bastards.

Saying "because fuck you, that's why."

The "WHAT THE FUCK IS UP KYLE" vine.

"Thanks for checking in, I'm still a piece of g a r b a g e."

Self esteem issues. Bad mental health. PTSD, anxiety, depression, BPD, eating disorders. They're all battles, and he is with you through all of them. By your side, holding your hand, rubbing your back. He feels your pain and he is helping you move past it. He is there to remind you that spite is a perfectly fucking good reason to get better, because people suck and you will show all the people who hurt you that you will not break. That you will get up, every single fucking time. And he is with you for every single step. If you believe nothing else, believe that Ares loves you.

Getting back up. Never backing down.

Teenage rebellion. Wild hair. Hair dye. Breaking into parks at night, exploring abandoned buildings.

Bumps in people's noses where it's been broken and not set properly.

Donald Duck. That duck is ready to fight all the time and I love him.

The movie 'Red'. Its so amazing. (Also watch that, it's on Netflix, at least on the UK one).

WWE.

That's it, my Ares one. I think I rambled a bit but I am very tired so forgive me. Lemme know what you think!!

I love Ares so much, I probably wouldn't have made it to this point if I didn't have him. He is my patron and he protected me when I felt alone.

Next I'm doing Aphrodite!

[the-homicidediaries]

Chris Benoit

Guys.

I am so excited to talk about this.

Not because of the context, but because this is one of the reasons I love wrestling so much; there’s so much that goes on behind the scenes that people have NO CLUE about.

There have been several professional wrestlers who have killed people or been killed themselves and the rabbit hole goes deep.

(Rey Mysterio accidentally killed a man on live tv and they still have the video up on YouTube.)

(Jimmy ‘Superfly’ Snuka murdered his girlfriend in May of 1983. Who is Jimmy Snuka? Jimmy Snuka was related to The Rock, Rikishi, and The Uso’s.)

THERE ARE SO MANY MORE THO.

But today, I want to talk about the Daddy of them all, Chris Benoit.

Chris Benoit’s crimes are so heinous and unforgivable Vince McMahon has swept his name under the rug and removed him from The Hall of Fame.

Benoit’s crimes also changed the dynamic of professional wrestling forever.

Chris Benoit was born in Montreal, Quebec to Michael and Margaret Benoit on May 21, 1967. He and his family resided in Edmonton, Alberta, however.

During Benoit’s childhood, he idolized Tom “Dynamite Kid” Billington (a British wrestler who competed in the 1980’s and had ongoing feuds with Hart) and Bret “Hitman” Hart (a Canadian-American wrestler and a member of the notorious Hart Family. He is a personal fave of mine as well).

When Benoit was 12 years old, he attended a local wrestling event where both Dynamite Kid and Hart were competing and he knew right then and there that he was destined to become a wrestler.

He trained in The Hart Family “dungeon” and was coached by none other than Stu Hart (Bret and Owen Hart’s father. If you don’t know Owen Hart, you should google him as well because he died under bizarre circumstances on live tv as well.)

When Benoit fought in the ring, he channeled both Dynamite Kid and Hart, even adopting Hart’s signature move, “Sharpshooter” as his finishing move.

Chris began wrestling in 1985 in Stu Hart’s Stampede Wrestling promotion. He was quickly recognized as a force to be reckoned with and received his first title, the Stampede British Commonwealth Mid-Heavyweight Championship, on March 18, 1988.

(This dude has a very extensive history or wrestling in New Japan Pro-Wrestling, World Champion Wrestling, Extreme Champion Wrestling, and World Wrestling Federation/Entertainment, but I just.. I cain’t get into all that, please forgive me. Haha! We are talking 22 years here! So I am humbly skipping to his family life.)

-Okay, so. I would love for this to be a romantic love story for the ages and the deaths resulted in crimes of passion, but that didn’t happen. At. All. Not at all.

You’ll see soon why this was all brushed under the rug.-

Benoit was married twice.

His first wife, Martina, and he had two children David (who is a wrestler as well) and Megan. By 1997, their marriage had broken down and Benoit and Martina decided it was best to end it.

Benoit began living with his girlfriend, Nancy Sullivan, who was the girlfriend of Benoit’s frequent opponent, Kevin Sullivan.

(It started off as an on-screen relationship for views and it led to a real-life affair. Many people joke that Kevin Sullivan booked his own divorce.)

On February 25, 2000, Benoit and Nancy’s son, Daniel, was born.

On November 23, 2000, Benoit and Nancy were married.

This 👏🏼 was 👏🏼 not 👏🏼 a 👏🏼 good 👏🏼 marriage.

In 2003, Nancy filed for divorce from Benoit, saying he would break and throw furniture and was cruel to her. She later dropped the suit as well as the restraining order she had set against him.

Benoit became good friends with fellow wrestler Eddie Guerrero, (a beloved and incredible wrestler, one of my dad’s faves), following a match in Japan, when Benoit kicked Guerrero in the head and knocked him out cold. This started a friendship that lasted even after Guerrero's death in late 2005, in which Benoit had written diary entries to him just ten days after his passing.

(I’m only mentioning this because Guerrero’s death has been rumored to be one of the reasons Benoit did what he did.)

Here’s where it gets gory.

So we know Benoit and Nancy did not have a good marriage, but things seemed to be okay because she dropped all the charges against him.

Benoit and Nancy were living in Fayetteville, GA, with 7 year old Daniel.

On June 25, 2007, police entered the Benoit home after Benoit’s WWE employers requested a welfare check after Benoit missed weekend events without notice.

(Benoit was actually scheduled to win another title during these weekend events.)

Upon arriving at his Georgia home, authorities found Nancy wrapped in a towel. She had died from asphyxiation.

Their son was also found, also dead, apparently strangled. Benoit placed a Bible next to each of their bodies.

Benoit’s body was the most disturbing to be found. The wrestler was hanged on a lat pulldown machine, with a Bible lying on the weight machine beside him. There were also allegedly 10 empty beer cans and an empty bottle of wine.

Autopsies concluded the murders and suicide took place over the course of three days.

On Friday, June 22, Chris Benoit killed his wife Nancy in an upstairs bedroom. Her limbs were bound, and her body was wrapped in a towel. A copy of the bible was left by her body. Injuries indicated that Benoit had pressed a knee into her back while pulling on a cord around her neck, causing strangulation. Officials said that there were no signs of immediate struggle. Toxicologists did find alcohol in her system, but they were unable to determine if she had been drinking prior to her death or if it was a product of decomposition.

Daniel was suffocated and killed in his bedroom, and a copy of the bible was left by his body. Daniel had internal injuries to the throat area, showing no bruises. Daniel's exact time of death is unknown. The reports determined Daniel was sedated with Xanax and likely unconscious when he was killed. Daniel's body had also just started to show signs of decomposition but was not as far along as his mother's body, so they were able to determine he was murdered after his mother.

(It was later alleged that Daniel had Fragile X syndrome, a genetic disorder that is characterized by mild to moderate intellectual disability. Physical features may include a long and narrow face, large ears, flexible fingers, and large testicles. About a third of those affected have features of autism such as problems with social interactions and delayed speech. Males are affected more than females. Daniel also had needle marks in his arm and it’s alleged that these were the result of growth hormones given to him because Benoit and his family considered him to be undersized.)

Chris Benoit committed suicide by hanging. Benoit used a weight machine cord to hang himself by creating a noose from the end of the cord on a pull-down machine from which the bar had been removed. Benoit released the weights, causing his strangulation. Benoit was found hanging from the pulley cable.

(On a podcast called The Talk is Jericho in 2016, Nancy’s sister Sandra Toffoloni divulged some more information. She said Benoit’s internet search history showed he had searched “the quickest and easiest way to break a neck”. Benoit had a towel wrapped around his neck when he committed suicide and his neck was broken instantly.)

A suicide note was not discovered, but a note written in one of the bibles Benoit had said, “I’m preparing to leave this Earth.”

A few possible motives I’ve seen people mention have included:

•CTE - Chronic traumatic encephalopathy is a neurodegenerative disease caused by repeated head injuries. Symptoms do not typically begin until years after the injuries and can include behavioral problems, mood problems, and problems with thinking. During his autopsy, it was concluded that Benoit did suffer from CTE after wrestling for so many years. (Back when they threw people from tops of cages, hit each other over the head with chairs and ladders, etc.) Autopsy experts say Benoit’s brain was so severely damaged that it resembled a 85 year old Alzheimer’s patient.

•Nancy’s abuse and filing for divorce - In February 2008, The Atlanta Journal-Constitution reported that Benoit was having an affair with a female WWE wrestler and Nancy found out. It was also speculated they argued over life insurance policies.

•Benoit’s alcohol abuse - Benoit abused steroids, but many people believe it was his alcohol abuse that led to these horrific murders. Many of Benoit’s colleagues attested he would drink more when problems with Nancy occurred.

•Eddie Guerrero’s death - Benoit and Guerrero and Benoit were very close. When it came out that Guerrero has died in his hotel room in November of 2005, Benoit was devastated. WWE held a televised memorial for Guerrero and when Benoit was giving his testimony, he broke down in front of the camera. Some of Benoit’s colleagues say, “he was never the same” after Guerrero’s death.

But at the expense of sounding completely heartless, (mind you, I’ve been suicidal myself), why didn’t he just commit suicide?

Why did he have to murder his wife and seven year old son? If we go with the CTE theory, it makes sense because he was not thinking rationally.

I wish Nancy had had the strength to leave him when she tried.

The night after Benoit’s body was found, WWE Raw had a televised memorial for him and his family with Vince McMahon standing in the middle of the ring breaking the news and a video montage.

No one knew he was the one who had killed his family.

When it was later revealed that Benoit had committed these crimes the episode was removed and WWE made the decision to remove nearly all mention of Benoit from their website, future publications, video games, merchandise, DVD/Blu-Rays, and future events.

Like I said.. swept him under the rug.

Benoit is now the “He Who Shall Not Be Named” of professional wrestling.

In ending this, I’d like to quote Stone Cold Steve Austin now.

“Well first and foremost, what I think about Chris Benoit is that guy was one of the most nicest guys I ever met in my life. He’s one of the most talented, hard working cats I’d ever seen in the squared circle. Anybody who knew Chris would tell you those exact two things. That guy loved the damn wrestling business, he was born to be a wrestler and was absolutely phenomenal. Drawing a lot of his influence from The Dynamite Kid, he blazed a path as the Pegasus Kid and his legacy as The Crippler Chris Benoit was just one hellacious career.

“One night, Chris ended up killing his wife and his kid. That is an act so terrible and horrible I can’t even comprehend or guess as to what happened in that house. That will always overshadow any accomplishment Chris had in the ring. He’ll never be in the Hall of Fame, it will just never happen. His career will speak for itself but his record as a human being, his first and foremost, and those actions will never be forgotten. That’s my feelings on that, we don’t even need to talk about the Hall of Fame. Speaking for myself, Chris Benoit as the person I knew, loved him. Chris Benoit as a wrestler, loved him. Chris Benoit as the person who did what he did, unforgivable. Bottom line.” – via NoDQ.com.

Pictured below are Chris and Nancy Benoit, their son Daniel, and their home in Fayetteville, Georgia.

[veryfineday]

Saturday 23 April 1825

6 5/60

10 3/4

.. [Anne’s period] 

From 7 3/4 to 10 10/60 wrote the few last lines of the 1st end, the whole of the 2nd a great deal under the seal, all very small and close, and crossed the 1st page of my letter (began on wednesday part written on Thursday and finished this morning) to ‘madame madame Barlow, Quai Voltaire no.15, Paris’, all which read over, wafered, and directed, and gave for George to take to the post-office –

I have had no time to make extracts but it is very affectionate  say she will perhaps ssee me again before the all off[er]ed two years are expired write as if having no wish but to make her my wife §§  yet say she knows ‘the hard necessity of circumstance that clings around me now’ bid her do what is best for her own interest and for Janes §  for her sake I can forget to be selfish nay more than this abhor thought bid her ‘not sacrifice a certain good for the upncertain prospect of making happy one whose affections she had gained forever but whose hopes of happiness had waked not from their sleep of years till roused by you to live and tremble once again’ § – all this brought on by my saying I had been taken by surprise altogether tho I ought not to have been by the reappearance of her ‘old beau’ that is Mr William Bell §  said I had not the same feeling of repugnance towards him as Mr Hancock between whom to again use her aunts words il nya pas de choix  in point of gentility Mrs H[ancock] nothing beyond her bright grates in bread street but bade her not atten[d] to me but make other inquiries  said I did not mean to reflect on her taste she had seen Mr H[ancock] ‘in ignorance and at Place Vendome two reasons taken conjointly quite enough to excuse the whole thing’ –

she would not ruin me in postage – if her letters cost no more than now and she write regularly every fortnight of her life, they would only cost 47 shillings and 8 d.pence a year  a sum far greater than which I should save by the habits of economy her regard had taught me – why did she not marK the little volumes?  § Rousseaus Nouvelle Heloise  she herself was the only one to whom I would give  did she think I could now make such presents to others perhaps she would soon become what she was pleased to call ‘more rational’ without much effort  ‘you have taught me much untaught before and surely I must strangely learn that hardest science  to forget [wh]ere I can associate another with those sentiments which you have chastened and refined  there is a little sacred record in my memory that would star t up into life against me’ were I to give these too interesting volume to any other than herself – had before all this bidden her not tell me any more of her being an injury to my future prospects etc. etc. §  they we were good enough to content me I wanted nothing more than I was likely to have ‘save that most difficult to gain of all possesions a heart in unison with my own’ –

§ alluding to madame G-[Galvani] ‘They are who thinK but little or tomorrow or of yesterday – are they the happier? I doubt it much – Then are, too, who have no faith in worlds to come; who have no stay for thought to rest upon, and, with whom, it would ‘destroy their paradise’ – when ‘we go hence, and are no more seen, who ever much remembers us, save that lonely one within whose heart our shrine was raised?’ 

ThanKs for her present of the Environs of Paris – I should con it over and plan some litt[l]e excursions for us  concluded my letter with bidding her tell me everything and ‘remember it is the gentle beam of affection not the meridian blaze of intellect that makes happy the heart of your affectionately attached AL’ –

vide last wednesday page 285. no observation made on mrs. B-’s[Barlow’s] letter because I had not time – 3 pp.pages long ends, and a great deal under the seal, all very small and close – § very very affectionate ‘a diversity of objects and scenery saved you from the intense misery I have suffered’ and she goes on to describe feelings much more intense than I had ever dreampt of her experiencing for me it ended in her being ill and having a great deal of fever for which Mrs Guantlet made her take calomel etc. § ‘I became so ill I had so much fever that I composed letters in my brain to your uncle telling him that your return alone could save my child from being an orphan’ – ‘so thin am I that my rings are laid aside I kept losing them every moment’ – about the going to Edmonto[n] etc. she says ‘I know not how to express all my obligation none but yourself could have acted as you describe the invention and decision was unique and the desc[r]iption capital’ –

§ Mr William Bell her ‘old beau’ had called and sat two hours with her making it evident he would offer if he thought he had the smallest chance of being accepted § ‘when I saw him..... I asked myself is that the man who caused much a sensation in our families how altered how changed in every respect’ – ‘would that I had but one day more of your dear societyelf in this ssalon I have so many things unsaid which perhaps we may never meet with op[p]ortunity to express but to tell you truly I must have many days of your society to induce me to undergo the agonized feelings I endured the days which followed your departure I thought I was near my end not that I fear death but on my childs account not that I love you less  but that I feel satisfied you would be decidedly better provided for without the burden of my acquaintance which can only prove disadvantageous and imprudent in being encouraged I must stop op my pen for I know non [not] what my light head would scribble on to say the best thing I could do with this sheet would be to consign it to the flame my next I trust will be more rational god bless and prese[r]ve you you know all I would say adieu CMB’ thus ends the third page –

Her aunt writes that mr. de Lancey speaKs highly of me – Jane has got the SKetch booK with ‘which is extremely well bound – I never saw Jane so delighted with anything’ § – of madame G-Galvani ‘I do not Know anyone who only thinKs of the present so much as our friend – all her actions, even in respect to economy, portray the same character’.... my letter sent off from London on the monday reached mrs. B-Barlow the Thursday following (the 14th April) – and was charged 24 sols – written on my very thin French paper and wafered –

 §§ in my answer when on the subject  vide line 12 from the bottom of the last page slightly alluded to our connection none could possibly understand it but herself  said I still sighed § after happiness gone by with a sigh more deep and long than she might think ‘in the midst of occupation when the strong voice of duty and necessity call on our attention the mind may be diverted for a while but tis the hour of rest when we retire into ourselves tis then when wh fancy brings to mind what absence takes away and thought of happiness gone by disorders all the heart’ said my own room was perhaps the worst place in which to calculate my loss – in an earlier part of my letter had hoped that at all rates she would not be disappointed in me as a friend §  would have nothing to regret but my misfortune (this hard necessity of circumstance that brings around me now) nothing to reproach but my loving her too well  this would be my only fault towards her which I hoped she would forgive ‘and even its very faultiness may wear away with time for time may come when my regard maybe your own without another voice to claim it maybe your own as well from duty as from inclination §§ – in another part speaking of my regard for her calling for no sacri fice on my part my prospect were good enough  [?] and alluding to her thinking of Janes interest  ‘even pride forbids that all the sacrifice should be on one side’ meaning hers § adding ‘if you were as ssingle as I am  I should expect the same sacrifices from you I would in such a case make myself’ - 

Breakfast at 10 1/4 – came upstairs at 11 1/4 – had just written the part of my journal of today on the last page when (at 12 1/2) Cordingley said Dr. Kenny and mr. Sunderland were come (to my aunt) went down – went into the drawing room, where they were with my aunt, for 10 minutes – then waited their going, and followed them into the front stable – spoke to them for a minute or 2 – Dr. K-[Kenny] thinKs my aunt in a very weaK, suffering state – a very delicate subject to deal with – this catching – convulsive motion of the diaphragm which has come on so much within these last few days, the worst symptom – I see he thinKs her constitution much broKen –

she had a warm bath last night, and is to have one again tonight about 98º Fahrenheit – after coming up to bed last night, went down to see how Cordingley had ordered the bath – found the tub 3/2 to two thirds full of water at 170º - staid 25 minutes till Cordingley had put in cold water that reduced it to about 100, or a few degrees more – my aunt too was sitting by the lower Kitchen fire waiting all this time – very bad management – and the tub placed just under the oat bread racK

staid talKing to my uncle and aunt, and did not come upstairs till 1 3/4 – then wrote the whole of the last page which tooK me till 3 – from 3 1/4 to 5 1/4 wrote 3 pp.[pages] and the ends (tolerably close) to mrs. N-[Norcliffe] to go tomor[row] – easy chit-chat, in answer to mrs. N-’s[Norcliffe’s] letter on wednesday 3 pp.[pages] (quite full) the ends, and a good deal under the seal –

a very Kind letter – I had no time to make any observation on it on wednesday – anxious to Know that M-[Mariana] did not visit colonel BerKeley – ‘why introduce her to him at all – old as Jam, I would not be introduced to him’... § a man whose character is so despicable and well Known, that it did not want the addition of his treacherous conduct to miss Foote, to make him as I believe he is, most generally despised .... it is not the 1st trait of treachery to a female’... together with what I copied from M-’s[Mariana’s] letter in my last to mrs. N-[Norcliffe] and the remainder I have copied in this, conclude the L-s[Lawtons] did not visit him, but left mrs. N-[Norcliffe] to form her own conclusions –

§ on her 1st page mrs. N-[Norcliffe] writes ‘you and I suit very well; and, should I live and have my health next year, at this time, should much enjoy a sejour of a month in our capital (London) with you’ – answer after mentioning my uncle and aunt’s health, and saying Dr. Kenny had been here this morning to see the latter – ‘should they be well enough for me to leave them, next year, and this time, nothing would delight me so much, as a month with you in that 1st of cities, London – at all rates, I hope and trust, no flaw in your own health wil be the preventative’ –

Have asKed mrs. N-[Norcliffe] if she Knows anything of mrs. Middleton, daughter of sir William Grace, wife of Mr. Middleton of IlKley – mother of mr. Peter m-[Middleton] of StocKhill-parK who married Miss [Stourton] – wrote the above of this page read over and folded and directed my letter to mrs. N-[Norcliffe], and had just done at 6 –

Great deal of rain last night – rained from the time of my getting up, more or less, till about 3 p.m. – about 8 a.m. sent John Booth to desire nothing to be done at the foot path – no stones to be led, for fear of cutting Thomas Pearson’s field – Dinner at 6 1/2 – Did nothing in the evening – Fair this evening (vide the 4th line above)  Barometer 3 1/4 degree below changeable Fahrenheit 44º at 9 p.m. at which hour came up to bed – Reading volume 1 Rousseau’s confession and looKing at the map of England and that of France, for about an hour – E [2 dots inside] O [1 dot inside] – my cousin came just before getting into bed

[esseastri]

Megan Reads Oathbringer (part 4)

sometimes I wonder about labeling the parts of the liveblog with “part 1, part 2, etc” ‘cause like...that doesn’t mean it’s part 4 of the book. just part 4 of the liveblog? idk, I jUST realized that might be confusing in a book split up into five parts, but it’s too late now...

I’m still in part one, for those keeping track.

Part 4 encompasses pages 240-326 (previous parts)

I genuinely cannot imagine Dalinar marrying someone quiet and shy and it’s just. wild.

“his bracer clocks” bless Navani for inventing wrist watches and calling them something delightful instead

nooooooo don’t bring Taravangian here!!!! Don’t let him see the center of your power!

crap, now we’ve got, like...all the factions together, right? Taravangian and the diagram people. the Ghostbloods. Amaram and whatever he’s doing. And us....everyone who knows stuff about the end of the world, all in one convenient place. What could possibly go wrong?

Oh, except Jasnah. She’s out there, somewhere. When will my love return from the war

seriously, it’s been 240 pages, where is Jasnah.

“He’d been a friend to Gavilar and that was enough for Dalinar.” like. okay. sure. but you know your brother was trying to end the world to bring back the gods, right? like? ARGH.

mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm hey do we have a way to tell Radiants from normal Shardblade holders?

I’m not saying I don’t trust Taravangian and his “newest Radiant” Malata, but... I DON’T TRUST TARAVANGIAN AND HIS NEWEST RADIANT MALATA

seriously, what is in Kholinar that all the parshmen are headed there? or...being driven there by their weird glow spren?

“Men of blood and sorrow don’t get an ending like that.” DAMN STRAIGHT THEY DON’T, YOU MURDEROUS CURMUDGEON

mmmmm she’s a Dustbringer? Our first one... “I don’t like how she smiles.” same though? I’m. concern.

oohh, I didn’t even think she might have an honorblade. where would Taravangian have gotten another honorblade. I remember reading something about there being more honorblades out and about in the world, but we don’t know whose, do we?

I. Am. Concern.

...........it’s not the bond. #confirmed by the stormfather. so there goes my theory about the the stormlight healing Dalinar’s memories.... hm

Taravangian getting all self-righteous about the Shin “murderering all those monarchs” like. even on a not-so-smart day he’s clever enough to deflect blame, to reinforce the idea that he’s just a harmless old man, would never command an assassin to kill off everyone’s kings. He’s terrifying, tbh.

mmmm, everyone thinking Dalinar is gonna attack them, I mean...good assumption but for once, you’re wrong!

omg

Dalinar, please, please do not go to war with the whole world all at the same time. Please.

I...don’t think that’s a spren...I don’t know what it is, but I don’t think it’s a spren. unless...can cities have spren? There are enough people, right? Can they manifest an incarnation of themselves? That’s basically what spren are, right? forces of nature made manifest, so...why not forces of civilization, too?

oh god

how long has it been alone?

this......is another story I wrote because it was sad, not because I wanted it. oh god. ooohh god. Urithiru...

OH ROCK!! ARE YOU OAK--okay, he’s okay.

wait

so it’s not just murders...it’s any sort of violence? the copycat is copying...all violence? or...just the criminal kind? surely it’s not copying all the violence of the army training or sparring. But...why? what’s to be gained from repeating the same crime a second time?

how long has this spren been alone and how mad is it?

does it think...violence is the way to be more human? to remember more? I’m...concerned and confused and. aaahhhhh

“Let me be stronger than those who would kill me.” punk!Dalinar, pls. you can pray for better things than that...

Dalinar keeping Navani’s prayer in his pocket like...my dude u r gettin married. the pining is. wow.

umm. #y i k e s

no wonder Kadash goes and joins the ardents...

Dalinar just...murdering a hundred people including some of his own men? is? really...like, okay, here’s the thing: We knew from the previous two books that Dalinar had done some bad shit. And we were told repeatedly that he’d changed dramatically. But being told and having it spelled out in...child murdering and unthinking friendly fire is...something else. The character development of this man is wild. and mildly uncomfortable. Like...his bad shit wasn’t just a few battles and some brutality of conquest. this was. really, really bad shit. And to see how far he’s come and how much he’s trying to atone for is. sure a thing.

and somehow people DIDN’T figure out that the Thrill is bad before now???

“This is a mercy” ARE YOU SURE?

AND THEN HE JUST GOES AND KILLS SOME MORE, JUST FOR FUNSIES

BUDDY. MY DUDE. YOU NEED TO STOP AND RECONSIDER YOUR LIFE AND YOUR CHOICES. PLEASE.

seriously, how does anyone think the Thrill is a good thing here.

Shallan really needs to look into her budding multiple personality disorder.

OKay, but are they siding with “the enemy” or are they siding with some parshmen who are now in workform and just want to be treated as real people instead of slaves? ‘cause like...you guys are all basing your strategy on the idea that EVERY parshman went stormform and started rampaging about killing everything in sight. And that definitely hasn’t happened yet.

Why hasn’t Kaladin mentioned this to you guys?? like?? oh, I guess he got his spanreed stolen, right? I just....... there’s a lot going on here, but there’s a certain amount of...maybe consider what the negotiations with the parshendi/parshmen/whatever they are now really are before you just...write them all off as evil?

Then again, these are Alethi lighteyes, who don’t really understand the concept of not generalizing a population they consider below themselves.

this is why the whole dudes not writing thing is ssooooooooo stupiiidddd. Kaladin can’t tell you guys ANYTHING unless he finds a nice lady to scribe for him. God, Vorinism is so stupid sometimes.

“Spark” is a good name for a spren tho, maybe she’s legit? I still don’t trust her. at all.

a flying bridgeman, Shallan, PLEASE

he’s a flying captain of the guard, at the very least.

nooo

NOOO

NO I DON’T WANT THIS

NOW I HAVE TO DEAL WITH FUCKING AMARAM THAT RAT BASTARD ALL THE TIME????? NOOO

NOOOOO

IALAI NO. YOU COULD HAVE JUST TAKEN OVER YOU’RE SMART ENOUGH YOU COULD HAVE BEEN THE FIRST HIGHPRINCESS AND IT WOULD HAVE BEEN AWFUL BUT ALSO AWESOME BUT NO. NO YOU HAD TO JUST DRAG FUCKING AMARAM THAT RAT BASTARD INTO THIS.

I DON’T WANT THIS TAKE IT BACK, BRANDON.

“Highprince.” “Highprince.” “Bastard.” GOD BLESS ADOLIN, BOY WONDER.

oohhhhhh Adooolliinn. babe, you can’t just--okay. there is is. The Thing.

Shallan. “Oh.” UH HUH. OKAY THEN. SO MUCH FOR THAT SECRET though it wasn’t really a secret. just a miscommunication. but still. I sort of wish that Kaladin had been able to tell Shallan himself about Helaran--though, he still didn’t know it was Helaran.

But there would have been something satisfying in that being just...between the two of them. Them working that out and him probably apologizing and her probably not forgiving him and there would just be. delightful angst before they eventually decided to be friends. But Adolin telling her gives her time to prepare, I guess? for seeing Kaladin again? I still don’t think she’s going to forgive him which will make for veerryyy interesting dynamics when he returns.

Listen, I just really wanted Shallan to pull her Blade on Kaladin, and have him trying to avoid her attacks while apologizing a lot even though he was perfectly in his rights to defend his at-the-time commanding officer from a threat. That would have been delicious angst.

Hopefully she doesn’t hate Adolin for being the messenger, though...

“Everything would have been better off if he’d just let Amaram die.” TRUER WORDS, ADOLIN. tbh, how much do you think Kaladin thinks about that very exact same thought? The answer is: A FREAKING LOT

well, shit. destroying the Oathgate seems a reasonable option, but also it’s gonna make saving the world a heck of a lot harder...

I wonder...if they’d had literally anyone else do the negotiations, if this would be going differently. People know Dalinar, they know he’s the Blackthorn, or used to be, and they don’t know him well enough to know how much he’s changed. If the Blackthorn had come to me and been like, “yo, I want to open a portal to your city center and send you soldiers to help you rebuild” I would ALSO assume he was going to invade my city and try to conquer me and I would also refuse him. But like...if Shallan or someone completely unconnected had tried, I’d be a little more likely? to agree? Idk I feel like they are definitely being hindered by Dalinar’s reputation here.

Just don’t let Taravangian do it. Don’t let him do anything. Oh god.

“a unified Vorin coalition” OH GOOD NOW IT’S A RELIGIOUS WAR. or an Inquisition. Nobody expects the Vorin Inquisition.

I love that Dalinar just....knows how to do shit. Like, Kaladin and Shallan have been practicing and had training sessions with their spren to figure out their powers and even Lift is REALLY BAD at Friction, and Dalinar’s just like. Adhesion. Got it. No problem.

aaaAAAHHH Dalinar holding Oathbringer again and it’s...not screaming it’s whimpering and I’M. SAD. ABOUT A SWORD. DANGIT.

DON’T GIVE HIM THE SWORD. AMARAM DOESN’T DESERVE A SWORD. DON’T DO THAT

okay, but Amaram calling Dalinar a hypocrite is like... POTS AND KETTLES, MY DUDE.

Taravangian: “I sound like a madman, don’t I?” No, you sound like a man for whom the ends justify the means.

Here’s the thing: I see the practicality in Taravangian’s stance. There’s always a practicality in sacrificing a few good ones to get rid of all the bad ones. And yeah, Dalinar’s desire to always save all the good ones, even if it means sparing the bad ones, is just a tad idealistic. But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try. Idealism is never something that we should give up on, is never something we should ignore or stop working towards. We shouldn’t always have to settle for practicality.

hoooo cool. The Stormfather can just...send Dalinar to other people in visions wth that’s really cool. Like a Kyprioth/Aly situation except the destination person knows they’re there.

“Shallan had nothing to do, but Veil was useful.” No, Shallan. You’re useful. You are Veil. It’s not. It’s not a different person. It’s just you adsfghjkl just. YOU’RE ALICE, PARKER. GOD.

“Veil liked watching people. She shared that with Shallan.” THAT’S BECAUSE YOU’RE THE SAME PERSON. YOU ARE ALICE.

omg, I love that Pattern just...brought both Kholin bros and all of Bridge Four.

“go do something stupid without letting me watch” OMG PATTERN, BBY.

I have missed Bridge Four, hello darlings

THEY’RE JOKING WITH RENARIN AND HE’S SMILING AND THEY’RE FRIENDS AND I’M SO HAPPY AAHH

THIS IS SO CUTE I LOVE THEM AAH

omg, I didn’t realize there was a staircase, I thought they were just going to be jumping into a void.

dear god, roshar has a Sisyphus equivalent that’s delightful.

sooo, I’m assuming that’s...Odium, Honor, and Cultivation in those mosaics? I’m genuinely amused that Shallan thinks they’re “pagan symbols”

Bridge Four took point even though there were two Shardbearers and an extra Radiant and MY BBYS I LOVE THEM I LOVE THEM SO MUCH

NOPE

NOPPPPPEEEE

NOOOOOOOOOOPPPEEEEE

DON’t DIE?

DON’T DIIIIIIEEEE

I DID NOT SIGN UP FOR THIS HORROR NOVEL SHIT

NOOOOPE

ADOLIN NO! YOU STORMING FOOL DO NOT CHARGE THE DARKNESS UNMADE EVIL THING WHAT THE FUCK NO

NOOO

I’M OUT

BYE

if any of Bridge Four die, so help me, I will drive back to Utah and yell at Brandon personally. To his face.

NOOOPPE THIS IS CREEEEPPY AS FUUUCKK WHAT THE NOPE

ooohh Renarin’s a good, he’s healing them, that’s my boy

okay, the illusory army is preTTY DANG COOL GET IT GIRL

but also the Unmade thing is freaking terrifying and I’m nope

...I’m assuming that since Dalinar saw nine shadows and the champion that there’s one Unmade for each of the ten orders of Radiants? LIke, this one, the Midnight Mother can be directly countered by Lightweaving. So maybe another one is designed to be defeated by Windrunners or Elsecallers or whatever. And it’s one for each?

I genuinely love that the new Radiant’s don’t call their swords Shardblades. It’s Sylblade, Glysblade, Patternblade. I love it.

“Adolin [...] charged into the room, bursting right through the middle of an illusion of his father.” Well, ain’t that just storming appropriate. How beautifully poetic.

also, Adolin and Renarin fighting back to back is A LOT AND I’M LOVE THEM

ooohh my god, it’s trying to bond with her?? trying to rip Pattern away and bond with her that’s... YIKES.

oohhh shit....corrupted creationspren. ooohhhh my god.

Odium, why you gotta ruin everything good in this world, you jerk

ooh...it was...bound. by a Lightweaver. bound like the Parshendi’s gods? like the parshmen? how are we binding people? I’m getting the idea that maybe binding people is bad.

I’m getting the idea that Ishar is bad. but that’s a theory for another time.

okay, so...the pashmen weren’t...going to Kholinar. they were going to a tiny city a week’s walk from Hearthstone...to...besiege it? why

what. is. happening.

also omg Kaladin’s never been to a real city, someone take this child on a sightseeing vacation, asap.

how...did they take the city and what...are they gonna do with it?? I’m all for giving them land and lives but I’m worried about stormform. and voidbringers. and a lot of things.

the parshmen calling him Kal is murdering my soul

oooh noooooooooo there’s a highstorm coming and the people are all outside and the parshmen are camping, and I...am worried.

Yixli? that’s a terrible name. though I guess she’s a questionably evil spren of odium, so.

Fused? okay, that’s a fun word for Stormform.

Kal, babe, you need to get out of there.

Ah. Good choice.

Syl whacking at the gloryspren and telling them “Mine!” about Kaladin is FRIKKIN ADORABLE HI I LOVE SYL

of course it’s all perception, Kaladin, everything is different if you change your point of view. That’s what makes being a person so difficult.

“Treat them better than they treated you.” AMEN. THAT’S THE ONLY WAY THINGS GET BETTER.

it’s hard and it sucks a lot, but it’s the only way.

oh shit

oh sHIT

what. dark stormlight? what the?

SHIT

THERE’S LIKE, THREE OF THEM?

okay, only two. buT STILL

Why can they do Lashings? do sotrmform voidbringers whatever the fuck they are have Radiant orders too? WHAT IS HAPPENING

“You can’t save all of them.” BUT HE’S DAMN WELL GOING TO TRY

HE’S SO GOOD

SO GOOD

WHAT

WHAT

THAT’S?? MAGICAL. WHAT. MAGIC WINDSPREN SHIELD????? CAN HE DO THIS NORMALLY OR IS THE STORMFATHER HELPING OR?? WHAT

omg, just...deposit him in front of Urithiru. That’s convenient. Why thanks.

YAAAASSSS

SHE’S HERE!!!!!

SHE’S BACK!!!!!!!!!

SHE’S HEEERRRREEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

YEESSSSSS

me: can I squeeze the interludes onto this part of liveblog? also me: *scrolls up to the top of this post forever me: Maaayyybe not.

[deputymcnuggets]

You asked for it, buddy. Numbers 1-47 ;)

omgggggggggggggggggg andy wtf i did not read that part, I am a simple man I see questions that can get me inboxes and I reblog!!!!!I DID NEED SOMETHIN TO DO THO SO HERE GOES NOTHIN1.Do you want a boyfriend or girlfriend?I have one @fuckityfuckyou!!!!!2.When did your last hug take place?Last night I go to friends birthday and hug peopleeee3.Are you a jealous person?Lilllll bit it sorta comes with the anxiety4.Are you tired right now?I ammm, got up super early yesterday and waited in line 3 hours to get a photo with santa and haven’t been sleeping well in general!!5.Do you chew on your straws?Fidgeting to deal with stress is my jam so I totally do6.Have you ever been called a tease?Yeppp7.Have you ever been awake for 48 hours straight?Yaaa I have several sleeping disorders, my “record” is ~5 days. People like to brag about how long they stay awake and how little sleep they get but it is really not healthy or enjoyable.8.Do you cry easily?I’m a pretty emotional person so yeah I do9.What should you be doing right now?Chillin just like I am!!10.Are you a heavy sleeper?I ammmm I sleep through fire engines coming to our neighbors house11.Do you think you can last in a relationship for 6 months?Well my longest relationship was ~4 years so ya!12.Are you mad at someone right now?Not really I ain’t got room in me HEART FOR HAtRED AND MADNESS13.Do you believe in love?Absolutely!14.What makes you laugh no matter what?That british fkn game show called Countdown15.Who was the last person you talked to?@fuckityfuckyou16.Do you get butterflies around the person you like?Well we aren’t together in person but I do when I talk to her!!! She makes my heart warm and my stomach flutterrryyyy with emotion17.Will you get married?Quite possibly, it isn’t important to me in the sense that I don’t feel a NEED to be married to prove my love or anything like that, but it would be nice.18.When was the last time you smiled?Couple min ago!!!19.Does anyone like you?Yaaa a couple people20.Do you secretly like someone?It sure ain’t a secret so no!!!21.Who was the first person you talked to today?@fuckityfuckyou you’re gonna get tagged in this a lot lmao22.Who do you feel most comfortable talking to about anything?@fuckityfuckyou speak of the devil23.What are you NOT looking forward to?Committing to studying something for a lengthy period of time24.What ARE you looking forward to?Having @fuckityfuckyou stay with me in Jan25.Has someone of the opposite sex ever told you they loved you, and meant it?Yaaaa 3 people this year actually26.Suppose you see your ex kissing another person what would you do?Be happy that she moved on and found someone that she cares about27.Do you plan on moving out within the next year?Not “planning on” but it would be nice28.Are you a forgiving person?My therapist tells me I have an incredible ability to forgive people even after they incredibly fuck with me lmao29.How many TRUE friends do you have?Really really good friends? Probably ~530.Do you fall for people easily?Not really I’m relatively picky and have certain things that need to be met in order for it to happen31.Have you ever fallen for your ex’s best friend?Nope32.What’s the last thing you put in your mouth?Fudge chocolate33.Who was the last person you drove with?My mate Lawrence and I just went to coles like 30min ago34.How late did you stay up last night and why?Errr til like 2, went to a party, came home, played games and chatted to people and shit35.If you could move somewhere else, would you?Not right now, no36.Who was the last person you took a picture of?Myself37.Can you live a day without TV?I can’t even remember the last time I watched TV38.When was the last time you were extremely disappointed?20min ago when I went to have a bath and no hot water left!!!!39.Three names you go by..Jack, dep, nugs40.Are you currently in a relationship?I am!!! Gonna stop tagging you now already done it enough!!!! :p41.What is your all-time favorite romance movie?Does Up count as romance? I love that movie42.Do you believe that everyone has a soul-mate?Not A SPECIFIC person that is their only soul mate, no. But everyone does at least have one person that could qualify as a soul mate.43.What’s your current problem?A lack of a certain person, and hot water for my bath44.Have you ever had your heart broken?Yes45.Your thoughts of long distance relationships?I did that shit for 4 fuckin years then we broke up and my next one was the exact same. Could write essays on this shit. They definitely can work. It’s really not easy though.46.How many kids do you want to have?Ehhh I flip flop between wanting kids and not wanting them47.Have you ever found it hard to tell someone you like them?I haveeee, struggled with that recently actually!!!THAT WAS A LOT OF QUESTIONS SO I DIDNT GO VERY IN DEPTH!!!!But thanks Andy hahaha

[psychicpineapplez]

I'm going to share a story with you all. I've been letting go of a lot of baggage recently, both emotionally/mentally and physically. I found some motivation to clean today and I came across this old bags of lip products. I'd guess ya might be thinking 'who needs THAT many lip balms??'. Nobody, really. I have every intention of throwing them away, after this. DREAMS. The manifestation of a Dream; That is what these bags of lip balms represent. These bags of lip products represents the beautiful chase, the desire, the willfulness - Of the Child. For she had a Dream; a Child's Dream. She chased a world record; she wanted her picture in The Book of World Records. She first came across this Holy Book in the Scholastic Book Fair. For the Children, gathered around its lustrous pages, this book was Sacred. This book told them that dreaming big was a great endeavor! So she took on the task; her goal- Largest Collection of Lip Products. Every Birthday, and Christmas, every Lost Tooth and Good Grade , every dollar earned; she would use to reach her goal. This Child, she had heart and determination. This Child, was proud of her accomplishments. I think that's the most beautiful thing about children, their uncompromising faith- in themselves, in others, in life. Do you remember? I remember. I remember being kind and compassionate. I remember being open emotionally and steadfast in my opinions. I remember being unyieldingly curious and unashamed of myself. I remember being a Child. I remember the long unfolding of the Curse of Separation. The Sexualization of the Child. The Cycle of Hurt-Pain-Anger-Wrath and Violence-Resentment-Depression. The Conditioning by Fear. The Path of Shame. The Sacrifice of Self-Worth. The Obligation to Expectation. The Renunciation of Sacred Feminine. For these are conditions of the Curse. These conditions are parts of the whole. These condition effect ALL LIFE. Thus, ALL LIFE IS CONNECTED. I remember chaining her up, telling her to be silent, telling her to not feel, telling her to hide, telling her to fear, telling her to accept her reality. The world, my parents, my friends, my extended family, my teachers have all been both extremely kind and extremely cruel to the Child. Perhaps I, the most cruel of them all. But then am I not the most kind, should I choose to be? Have I not already chosen? I am You, You are We, We are They, They are Alive. We must dispel the illusion, bothers and sisters. I urge you to REMEMBER YOUR CALLING. Remember and Honor the Child. Remember and Honor the Mother. Make Righteous and Honorable the Father, Again, Through Her. The Curse, placed upon Her womb through which ALL LIFE born, must be broken. Do not fight with one another and throw words like sharp daggers. Do not hate your neighbor who sits in the dark, only let yourself be a constant and indiminishagble source of Light, then they shall see. Do not call for blood or surely bloodshed will be brought to your door. What you do to your Neighbor, no matter the distance, you do unto yourself. Seek forgiveness. Forgiveness is simply not letting those that have hurt you, hurt you. It is the shield that repels the Evil of Separation. When I forgive my father for his actions, those actions that have hurt and formed a destructive path for me, no longer have any hold forevermore. Forgiveness is by your own right, it is the choosing to live according to oneself without any influence good or bad. Forgiveness is hard. Forgiveness is what I long to attain for the Child and of the Child. Change. Change is a Dream. It's a Dream I seek. That's why I left school; over 13,000$ a year in scholarships and I left. When I got home I was in a deep depression, very ashamed, felt like I had failed everyone. I left school because my life was stuck in the Cycle of Hurt. I tried to fix it with alcohol. I tried to fix it with school. I tried to fix it with smoke. I tried to fix it with make up and pills. I tried to fix it with the words in my throat. I stayed silent AND I spoke, but never with the truth. I tried to fix it with my friends. I tried to fix it being alone. I tried to fix it with food, eating disorders running the show. Now I need a fix, of sugary substance to numb my pain. Nothing ever fixed me, everything fixed me. For if I could change one thing, I would change nothing. Not the circumstances that left me with Complex PTSD or addiction or the pain because it brought me to this moment. I wouldn't change a thing. My wounds have brought me great understanding. They give me opportunity to change. To become the butterfly. When I do, I'll remember the Child. I'll remember her Love. I'll remember her beauty and laughter. Her power and strength. I'll remember the Maiden, the Mother, the Crone. I'll remember our calling. I'll remember The Seed Of Light. I'll die and live again, ready to take flight. For the Child is the Root of Innocence Divine, reclaimed by this Maid. Reclaimed by two bags of lip balm dreams on a Glorious Day. The Butterfly shall soar away, from the pain of ALL PAST. "Baptize me … now that reconciliation is possible. If we’re gonna heal, let it be glorious. 1,000 girls raise their arms. Do you remember being born? Are you thankful for the hips that cracked?" - Warsaw Shire, Beyoncé Lemonade Album. So the muse took over but that sums up my calling pretty well. I suppress and hide the words, I'm tired of it though. Maybe someone will read this, maybe no one. I think it's important that I put the words out there tho, ya know? I think soon I'm leaving Tumblr too.. it's just become too much of a world that I can lose my problems in.. in the way that I don't actually confront them. Tumblr is where I run away to, which I Honor but my Turning is coming. I can't run from myself forever and more so I don't want to anymore. The lower two pics are some of my fav collections. Especially Cheese Itz, I always got a kick out of that one.

[fairyringquotes]

Gentleman’s Magazine, 1791

Page 728: August 10. Mr. Urban, Col. Townley, in his “Journal in the Isle of Man, 1789,” just published, says, “I had often admired, with a kind of wonder, this green rings so often observable upon many dry heaths and commons in various parts of England, called by the common people Fairy rings; and one day determined, if possible, to find out the reason why they were gnarly seen in that circular form, and why too the grass growing upon them should b so distinguishable from that upon the surrounding turf by a richer or deeper tinge of green. I cut up several sods as del as the find mold raced, by which means I found several brown grubs, some moving, and some in a state of quietude; but the greatest number of them in motion, with their hands in the self-same direction as if they were pursuing each other. I found the soil under the rings to be var better pulverized than that under the surrounding heath, where there are no insects visible; and the state of the soil will easily account for the deeper rings of green in the grass growing upon them; but why those insects should so invariably work and move in a circular form is above my comprehension; therefore, will rely leave the staunch believers in fairy tales in full and peaceable erosion of their circular property.” I. 203. Yours, ect. P.Q.

Page 1073: Various Opinions on Fairy Rings recapitulated, 1085

Page 1085: Dec. 1. Mr. Urban, “To admire the works of Nature in her usual course is a laudable disposition; many content themselves with her ordinary operations only; but there is also an additional secret pleasure in contemplating her byways, or seeking to examine hr sportive aberrations.” Such, Mr. Urban, are the just remarks on the study of Nature made by a deceased respectable correspondent of yours in vol. LIX, p. 1187. The pleasure he describes I sensibly feel whilst attending to the investigation of the ‘Origin of Fairy rings,’ notwithstanding little progress towards discovery can be yet reported; but the unremitting observations of naturalists, and the communication between them afforded by your Magazine, will, I trust, in time produce the election of the mystery.

Concerning these appearances many hypotheses have been formed, and nearly as many overthrown. In your Miscellany the question was first brought forward by C. Berington, whose enquiry failed of meeting attention. It was reintroduced by J.M. (vol. LX, p. 710) in a letter rather singularly worded. J.M. says, these rings exist in a meadow at the back of his house, which “has ben in the same state full twenty years, except once polished about nineteen years ago, during which whole time the was been no alterations in the rings.” He then very gravely and earnestly appeals to the public, whether any “on will be so hardy as to assert they ever saw any cows, etc. etc. turning round” whilst expelling their dung or urine? But before this, J.M. affronts the memory of “our great dramatic Bard,” by imputing to him the folly of having entertained and encouraged a belief of the circles being really caused by Fairies. The existence of Fairies, Mr. Urban, is an elegant chimera, admirably applicable to the support and embellishment of several kinds of poesy. It is a fiction so truly poetical, and so particularly concordant with the excursive fancy of Shakespeare, that it is no wonder that that Child of Nature should avail himself of it, and interweave it in his dramas. The use he has put it to in his “Midsummer Night’s Dream” is similar to the use Pope has made of the Rosicrucian system in the “Rape of the Lock.” In other parts of his works Shakespeare has applied it in the way of embellishment, as two ingenious pots of the present day have done likewise in “The Village Curate,” and the poetical romance of “Arthur.” …. Mr. Pope, in his dedication to Mrs. Fermor, has implied his want of faith in Sylphs and Gnomes: but as the unknown author of “The Village Curate,” and Mr. Hole, the writer of “Arthur,” have not particularly implied any disbelief in the Fairy system, J.M. may possibly attribute to them the same absurdity as he has attributed to Shakespeare, and he may do it with as much reason.

There is no assertion, how inane soever, but what has its advocate. J.M. did not deem it possible that the assertion respecting the circular movements of cattle whilst evacuating their dung could find one; yet T.E. (p. 800) was hardy enough to stand forward in favor of it, though he does not go quite so far as to declare himself ever to have been an ocular witness of such an evolution, a circumstance indispensably necessary to proving a fact so ludicrously inconceivable. As T.E. suppose these circumlocutions to have been performed round scrubbing-posts, it  should be observed, that Fairy rings are too small ever to have had scurbbing posts for their cents; and that, according to that supposition, the files wherein Fairy rings abound must have had formerly, either at on or at different times, scrubbing posts in every part of them; an improbable case. Besides, the rings appear (as M.C. p. 1191, and D.D., vol. LXI, p. 3, have observed before me,) in places whereto cattle have not had access in the memory of man, or perhaps since the Conquest. No doubt these were the reasons which induced B.L.A. (vol. LX, p. 1193) to say, very unceremoniously, “I deny that Fairy rings have always a scrubbing post in their center; I never saw one in that predicament.” Notwithstanding this gentleman’s roughness, I agree with him.

T.L. and B. (pp. 1007, 1106,) both sententiously ascribe Fairy rings to the effect of lightning; the one quoting Dr. Priestley, and the other Mr. Jessop. Beseeching forgiveness of these four gentlemen for presuming to differ from them (which is being yet more hardy than T.E. before mentioned), I must confess, that I think they have promulgated a scientific prejudice whilst endeavoring to dispel a vulgar one. They are of a different kind; but philosophers have their prejudices as well as the commonality, and they are as tenacious of them. Mr. Jessop’s friend, Mr. Walker, might see a new circle immediately after a thunderstorm, for a fresh appearance might as probably attract his notice on a day on which a thunderstorm had happened as on any other day; but it might have appeared on that day, since a storm is no impediment to the rings appearing, tho’ the lightning does not cause them. On the contrary, I apprehend that the circle, observed by Mr. Walker, was brought out to view (as the painters term it) by the additional verdure which the rain had given to the surrounding herbage. Had Mr. Walker stooped to it, and perceived a smell of sulphur proceeding from it (as all substances blasted by lightning emit that effluvia), his evidence would have had weight. A fashion has existed some years, among the medical people, of attributing every complaint they could not comprehend to defective or disordered nerves. Philosophers and lecturers have fallen into a similar habit of ascribing every natural phenomenon they are incapable of accounting for to electric fire: in conformity to this system, Fairy rings have been called the effect of lightning. Did lightning cause them, we should see them upon corn, stubble, garden crops, etc; whereas they never appear (as I ever saw or heard) but upon greensward or clover aftermath. Did lightning cause them, they would be most numerous those years when there is most lightning, and vice versa; but the year present furnishes an instance of the contrary. During the three elapsed quarters lightning was neither particularly frequent or uncommonly violent; yet the additional number of Fairy rings which presents themselves to view at the usual time (July and August) of new ones appearing is (at least in my vicinity) greater than common.

C’s supposition (p. 1180) is amusing. Surely this writer never saw a Fairy ring, and as surely never noticed the dimensions given by J.M. Were we to substitute Fairies for Britons, we might, from his other words, imagine ourselves fellow inhabitants of Fairy land, since his ideas and expressions are more applicable to the children of Fancy than to those of Adam. Instructed by C, we might, from the appearance of a fresh circle, know as well when the Fairies had ben performing religious rites, or celebrating festive revels, as we do now when we perceive by scattered feathers and extinct ashes that a gang of Gypsies have had a luxurious regale under a hedge. But I most not trespass further on the province of the Antiquaris, to whom C. has, with all due deference, referred the digestion of his idea; and that with very great property, as the digestive powers of some of those gentlemen are entirely equal to the task.

Ants and moles have been mentioned; but the hillocks of these laborious beings would be seen invariably in the vicinity of the rings, did they occasion them. Ants ever affect dry places, and Fairy circles often appear in moist. Moles happen to work under them sometimes.

J.G. of Kendal, investigate the matter with great attention (vol. LXI, p. 336). He is exceeding exact in observing most of the visive circumstances incident to the circles, and reasons from these circumstances with great acuteness. I cannot say I am every way satisfied with his suggestions, though several of his remarks are just, and he is undoubtedly pursuing the right tract towards discovery; since the patient attention he is bestowing on the subject is the only clue existing to guide the research. It is only a long series of observations that can attain the desired end; but this is not a consideration to discourage a true Naturalist.

In one point I must set J.G. right; and, if he should find occasion, I hope he will do the same by me. He partly mistakes in saying, “marks of this kind are only to be met with on the sides of hills, and of sandy pasture, where the art is commonly poor and open.” That this is the case in Westmorland I make no doubt, because J.G. asserts it to be so; but in the South of England they are as often visible in flat, rich, moist meadows, and upon stiff blu and yellow olay, as anywhere else. I acknowledge that there is sometimes a small proportion of hungry sand, or sharp gravel, intermixed with the above clays, but the clay lies above either. J.G. has opportunity of observing whether Fairy rings exist upon peat mosses, and whether they appear, or are plentiful, on the surface of a soil replete with coal or mineral; and, if thy are seen at all in those situations, whether they differ in appearance from those on the sides of hills and sandy pastures. By ascertaining these points, a judgment may be formed of what depth of soil is necessary to the generation of Fairy rings, and whether the cause of them exists above or below the surface of the earth.

As I have professed myself dissatisfied with J.G.’s suggestions, it behooves me to offer others, though they may possibly be found exceptionable likewise.

It is my idea that, throughout the course of this investigation, the cause has hitherto been uniformly mistaken for the effect. I think that fungi are not the effect, but the primary cause of Fairy rings, an opinion ground on the following hypotheses:

The edible mushroom, and most of the other varieties of terrene fungi, arise spontaneously either in circles or in curvilinear lines; and the fungi which generates on the arms of ancient apple-tides discover a like tendency, by two or more of them frequently encircling the decaying arm. Hence it should seem, that the innate active principle in fungi possess an original predisposition to exert, extend, and increase itself, circularly. Moreover, if one fungus arises, and attains maturity, the different winds blow its seed around it, and that seed produces a circle of fungi the following year. If, during the diffusion of the seed, the wind happens to blow higher from one quarter than the rest, it conveys the seed to a greater distance, and forms a process issuing from out of the circular line. The circle is liable, moreover, to be intersected by other circles, formed by neighboring fungi in the same manner. J.G. says, “the cause that produces Fairy rings destroys the grass growing on them, root and stem.” Again, he says, “since each ring remains bare for a year, it is evident that something is lost which is necessary to the nutrition of plants; and therefore we have arrived at this conclusion, that this succession of withered tracks is occasioned by each track being successfully deprived of some principle of vegetation.” This conclusion of J.G.’s is just, and my hypothesis consistent with it. I argue, that the fungus spawn attracts and engrosses to itself all the terrestrial nutriment which before fed the plants that preoccupied the space; that, after producing the fungi of that year, this spawn extends itself beyond the first circle for the formation of another, leaving the space it filled before so exhausted of the saline, or other particles peculiarly essential to the vegetation and sustenance of fungi, that no more fungi can arise from it during a considerable period. The roots and seeds of grass then possess themselves of the vacancy, and, finding the earth highly meliorated by the rotten firs of the former grass, and the decay parts of the fungi, they readily establish themselves therein, and thrive so luxuriantly that the blade becomes rank, and is rendered further unpalatable by the strong taste and scent which it imbibes from the fungous manure which contributed to its growth, in like manner as early asparagus contracts a savor of the dung which forces it. The rapid attainment of fungi to maturity demonstrate the vegetative principles to be infinitely more active and powerful in fungi than in herbs. From this superiority in the vegetative principle it is reasonable to conjecture, that fungi attract and acquire a larger portion of terraqueous nourishment than vegetables do, and that, therefore, they for a time impoverish both earth and herbage wherever they exist; which hypothesis accounts for the destruction of the grass in the circles, and J.G.’s conclusion stands corroborated. The fungi are preyed upon in their turn by grubs and other insects (as is well known to the makers of ketchup), which accounts for grubs, etc. being found beneath the surface of the rings; a circumstance which has given rise to another error respecting the origin of the riles, insects having been taken for a cause instead of a consequence. It surprises me much, that so minutely (notwithstanding his consideration of brevity) as J.G. has descanted on the varied appearances of the rings, that he never has even once named fungi; for, though fungi are not at all times visible on them (this serves for an answer to M.C. vl. LX, p. 1191), yet on or more full crops arise invariably in Autumn, [Footnote: In the long and rich meadow at Islington, which leads to Canonbury, we recollect seeing, thirty or forty years ago, immense quantities of these rings, and fungi in all of them. Q. Do thy still exist there? Edit.] and a few at intermediate period. I regret that I have not an opportunity of examining Mr. Bolton’s treatise on fungi, as I suspect something illustrative of the origin of Fairy rings may be found in it.

I have not the self-sufficiency, Mr. Urban, to attempt imposing my hypothesis, concerning the origin of Fairy rings, on your readers for a confirmed, incontrovertible one: I am ready to relinquish it with pleasure whenever another, established by time and repeated observations, may be advanced. I have only remitted it for the purpose of turning the attention of the intelligent J.G. towards Fungi, and to assist the gentleman who, in one of your last numbers, has with so much goodwill expressed his readiness to follow up any hints that might be given him for promoting the desired discovery; an offer too acceptable to pass neglected.

A SOUTHERN FAUNIST.

P.S. The correspondent who sent the account of the lacerius vulgaris (vol. LXI, p. 816), has my thanks both for the attention he has honored my hint with, and for the communication concerning the above reptile; which communication supplies Mr. Pennant’s deficiency on that head, and removes an inconvenient prejudice.

[myhauntingofthedarkforest-blog]

When you asked me to do things, favors,

After moving mom talked with me before we talked with my soon to be new school. The ok things to say. Vs. the not. It was ok to say my father got in my bed. It wasn’t ok to give any details.

People would tell me regularly, wow you seem very wise beyond your years.

That’s because I was reading books and talking about big life problems with the calmness of an adult. That’s because there was an insane amount of pressure from everyone around me to be ok, move on, not talk about it. I was of course aloud for me to talk in detail about what I was really going through to my mother enjoying her new found freedom or her scheme best friend, or her best friends child abusive 2nd husband. I was mature for my age because I had to be not because I was born with no desire to be silly and merry and shallowly carefree with my peers.

It felt like an incouragement that you were right and I was doing the right thing.

When it got to hard to deal my closest friends and loves chose to move on it taught me further who I could really trust. I never really trusted outside people after that. Not to really see my life. I bore it, tight faced.

Then I trusted you. You who watched me pee the bed at age 15. Through night terrors and black outs you all, you knitted together in deceit. You watched me suffer, offering me little bread crumbs of advice while I was drowning, choking on the water. You didn’t even notice the difference when my sister took me to a friends house to “ hang out” then pressured me into drinking and getting raped by a 40 year old man who’s name I can’t even remember. You never noticed I was pregnant. At 16. You didn’t even notice. In the hight of my eating disorder, you didn’t even see.....

On day I called you crying hysterical. Finally I explain to you it looks like a miscarage, floating in the bath water. I took it out with a pen like directed, sealed it into a zip lock bag, then a brown paper bag. I begged you to come home from work but you said you couldn’t. I waited all night for you. You stayed at your friends house because she really needed you. I couldn’t remember what had happened, I didn’t want to, couldn’t.

You told me years later you had a suspicion something like that might have happened. Over 10 years you call me crazy for having mixed, sometimes different memories come to surface. You tell me I belong in a nutt house.

Mom you hurt me. In more ways than I have time to tell. You hurt me so deeply. I blame myself, I chose this. This isolation from you. But you chose it. Every choice you’ve made has brought us here. Every chance you had, gone. I want to love you. I want to have my mom. But she isn’t who I thought she was. She is a monster. Her selfish greed. She played a long con with my father. My mother used me her little controlled weapon. Her threat through their divorce, pay me or else. Now she gets paid. And I get nothing. That’s what I get for being stupid. I was playing gold fish while my mom was playing chess. Come to think of it, they were all playing chess.

Fool me once, shame on you

Fool me twice, shame on me,

Fool me twee times, shame on me

Fool me for 20 years, I’m to afraid to ever truly trust again.

When your a child you make decisions, they all have prices even if they don’t have their dollar signs.

I had a price. My parents figured it out. My father’s pride and ego has a price too. It was me. He says he forgives me for ruining his life tho. I never took him to court for what he did to me. But I ruined his life. Not my mother. Me. I am the destroyer of worlds don’t you know?

[rexylafemme]

the usefulness of being still has come and gone, just like the jolt of cruel dreams before the dawn

i’m not a chill person. i can find my center & i can shift perspectives as i need in order to be safe and grounded with myself (sometimes). but i refuse delusions and the ignorance required to tell myself all of this is fine, to be at false ease. i have rage and i believe in its power; if we use it and channel it right. i have anxiety and fears, which are real and valid responses to the trash can past and present and future circumstances i’ve experienced, we’ve created, continue to create. the fruits of destructive power structures, from outward to our homes. i don’t believe in them, no faith, no allegiance to them. i refuse and i won’t compromise my beliefs and values, the other visions i’m working toward, we’re working toward. a decolonized femme-centered, black-and-brown-centered, disabled/sick/crazy-centered, nurture-centered reality. brutally soft.

i’m willing always to be open to new ideas and growing and seeing things in new ways, other experiences, if they promote liberation, a coming back to radical compassion in micro to macro ways, resistance, ends to violence and suffering. but, any kind of thinking or behavior that is wound up in any kind of BS, i am not going to protect or make excuses for. this goes for within personal relationships, in institutional settings, cultural production, etc. there’s no time for that, there’s been no time for it for too long. part of loving people and being alive has to be holding ourselves and each other accountable for the oppression and privilege that live in our psyches that we knowingly or unknowingly reinforce and act out. if we can’t disrupt or challenge these things in ourselves and through our relationships with each other, we can’t be fully functional or effective activists, organizers, artists, anti-oppression advocates, friends, lovers, workers, anything. it doesn’t feel good to face these things. but, it’s not supposed to. and growth takes time. challenging these things within our communities and families doesn’t feel good either. it puts you at odds, you have to rub up against defensiveness, and sometimes, no matter what we do, we’re ineffective. sometimes it isn’t safe to broach the process and we have to walk away, protect ourselves. we can’t force people to change.

we all run away from parts of ourselves, our pasts, our histories. i try not to feel bad about this, knowing that at least when it comes to family, blood and chosen, stuff, it was out of self-defense and preservation to run or to avoid. it wasn’t safe at specific times to dig up or approach certain wounds, to acknowledge that they even existed. also, sometimes you have to make the kinda unsound or “bad” choices to really know and be confident in your true choices. hecate: crossroads, being with your choices. eventually, you have to look at and face the painful choices, memories you made and have to move past them. you won’t forget, but there has to be some movement toward graceful acceptance of how things were/are.

being openly vulnerable and honest in a more intense way in a lot of areas in my life in the last few months to a year is bringing up a lot for me—in really great ways, in complex ways, in triggering ways. i’m coming up against everything that shaped my ideas around how i should express myself, what i should express, when, what i should care about, who i should care for, how i care. and all of the wonderful and terrible things that have influenced my caring—for myself and other people. i’m doing my best to live authentically, unapologetically—in line with my feelings and values. i’m doing my best to feel through the nasty stuff—external, internal, past, present. i’m doing my best to face myself in all my multiplicities, glories, mistakes, gifts, failures, joys, pains. i’m putting myself out there really hard, leaving shit up to fate/faith, reminding myself that honing my best self and putting that self forward, putting forth generosity, empathy, forgiveness, love, care, is everything. that it brings me closer to others who are trying their hardest, too.

areas where you need faith: justice card (wild unknown) decisions. balance. non-binaries. remember everything is everything. trust the multitudes. you are gray area. act with your highest intentions & desires & that is what you will meet externally.

i’m coming up against my defense mechanisms and walls—the hermit impulse that tells me to squirrel away, to protect my heart and spirit and body in a way that keeps me in suspicion and at a distance from others, everyone. i’m trying to not feel so scared and threatened. i’m challenging it because it doesn’t feel good and it doesn’t give people the opportunity to be good or to really know me the way i want to be known. and yet i am seen & known? emergeNYC really created a space where we were challenged over all these deep, embedded impulses toward singularity, overbearing self-protection, fear of intimacy, narrow-minded ideas of what intimacy is and between whom, lack of trust, the impacts of what we create with/between/for/against each other.

areas where you need to show commitment: III of cups. friendship. community. support. sharing and receiving care. abundance, warmth. the balm of good company. know you belong, we all can belong with each other. the importance of pleasure. the responsibilities of kinship. commit yourself to togetherness, in confluence with solitude. conjure a togetherness with yourself as well. birds don’t go at it alone, they have vast networks, open channels of communication, both parallel and interwoven flight.  

i don’t want my body, brain, heart and their impulses to be driven by fear & self-preservation always. i know i learned these responses for a reason and they’ve served me. i know it started with my family, both as life lessons given to me lovingly of how to move through this cruel-ass world and also given to me by our family’s own cruelties, inabilities to care for themselves, each other, me. i learned how to code-switch my way through any institution, how to manipulate my way from the grip of social worker hands, CCS, how to not be taken away, how to not get prescribed things, how to worm my way out of the hospital, the psych ward, how to get an abuser to stop hurting me as much tho being unable to fully emancipate from them. how to hide all of these experiences. how to talk my way outta anything. how to be a shark, how to cultivate numbness to get through and keep going. the wonders of dissociation. and then we’re supposed to feel guilty for what was done to us,what we’ve done, and the ways we had to survive. it doesn’t feel great to bear, but i think it’s okay when you’re protecting yourself?

it’s all the old stuff—blood and chosen family from the present and past. people who it feels more painful to love than not, but you can’t take the love away anyway. i don’t know how to do this. how to love through it, how to become okay with things that are not okay and that still and will always hurt, these indelible things. dredged up at any minute by the way the sky looks or a sound or a similar feeling. like having a psychometric relationship to everything in your realm of experience. feeling the resonances. i don’t know how to transform with people if they can’t transform themselves, if they actively dodge the opportunity. i don’t know how to be with them, but i can’t cut out my family. i can’t resolve anything either. but i can’t be a container for the same shit, that is actually just worse than it was before, the rocky road. i don’t want to watch, i don’t know what to do. it hurts all the time and i’m powerless. and in the city where we all began. this paradox that is a through-line in my life.

what you are distracted by: V of wands. conflict, loss, competition, separation. family. the wands aren’t going anywhere or working together, they’re sprawled about, the energy is disordered. they reach toward each other, but not to make a genuine connection. isolation in themselves. defensive and unwilling to compromise. you can’t heal it, it’s not yours. scattered at best, working at cross purposes at worst. know where to keep fighting and when to move in another direction. you can’t dwell on the past.

i biked around red hook, where i feel at home, attached to something. being there feels like a hug. i biked past the building that was once the elementary school my grandparents went to that has been low-income apartments for decades. i can handle that. the fancy-ass cocktail bar with the french windows named botanica i can’t deal with. but i let it go, i keep going. passing all the streets i remember hearing about in childhood: columbia st, van brunt st, walcott st. i walked to the end of the valentino pier and watched the sunset, thinking of my grandmother. the sun fell directly behind the statue of liberty, obscuring it in a fuzzy burst of hot orange light. liberty, that sick joke, engulfed in toxic neon flames. i thought it must’ve been hard to be there, in red hook, where no one wanted to be then, with things as they were, and look out and see that damn statue all the time. or, maybe it just became part of the landscape, look past it, let it go. maybe it was just calming, romantic, to be on the waterfront, gazing out seeing sky meet water, dreaming about who you could be, in a neighborhood set apart from everything else, brooklyn wouldn’t even claim it—with all its chaos, murders, fires, rats, mobs, riff raff. cut off and forgotten, monstrosity, an eye sore, disowned, unknown maybe, but not nonexistent, not without redemption. i’m here, so love had to come from somewhere in red hook. from a michael and a dorothy, for my mother to be born there to find a quiet, poetic bob from the bronx. love, or at least a pull toward someone else’s body and soul, whatever that’s called.

there were iridescent scales of light on the water, striking yellow, cerulean, pink, sliding their way over an infinity of tiny choppy waves. it was beautiful, it made me sad. falling into nighttime. i sat and wrote about what it might be like if there were a version of experience where my grandmother was still alive and she accepted me for who i was, a version where my trans-ness/otherness/craziness wouldn’t confuse or break her heart, as i kinda fear they would. if she would meet me as myself, but maintain a lot about herself, too. she would mean well, she would bother me mostly me about love. r. and i were watching kimmy schmidt and titus was being scouted out and appraised by a church lady for her gay nephew. it felt relatable: the sweet busy-bodiness, the gossip, the matchmaking. my grandma would be picking out candidates or asking constantly, “well what about so and so? or whatshername?” how she would be kindly pushy about marriage and kids because partly that’s her framework for understanding love and family, and also because she thinks i’m good at nurturing and building kinship bonds and knows commitment is important to me. i would meet her where she was and struggle a bit with it, trying to figure out how to explain my discomfort/critique with the institution of marriage, the heteronormative dyad of “family,” how we conceptualize relationships in general as fixed, love unconditional, desire as one thing, i would struggle to communicate my conflicts. she might struggle to understand them. we would both mean well and try. and maybe a lot would go left unsaid, maybe some of it wouldn’t need to be said.

i could see her inviting someone over to dinner, taking their hand at the table, and saying stuff like “you know, rex is a writer, he has a book coming out,” in a wink-wink way and i would be mortified and smile and fumble my words talking about it, but also partially flattered. and also i would later remind her that i am perfectly independent and comfortable and complete in myself, irreverent artemis, and she would assure me she knows, but i am a beautiful person and i shouldn’t be bitter and jaded and closed off, i don’t have to be a nun, when i could also have all of myself and more as well. i would roll my eyes because i know she’s right. she would also want me and encourage me to pursue my life and passions and gifts and not neglect them. she would say often that ignoring your gifts is a sin. often when she would be asking me to sing for her and i would get shy. as always, i would kinda want her approval in everything i do, so i would believe in it all. she wouldn’t have liked some of the stuff i got myself into, but only because it wasn’t right for me, didn’t honor the fullness and wonder of me. she would still talk me up to her other church ladies, as she always would talk up her grandkids, especially cheryl and me, the shining stars—so smart, so talented, the brilliant, going-places girls, ten years apart. i loved it tho and i always wanted the church ladies to like me, for elders to like me in general. and it was important for me to be respectful, polite. i also just appreciated their wisdom and assuredness and qnz fashion sense.

i walked to the other pier, directly off conover st, sat on the ledge over the rocks in the dark. watching the moonlight on the river. it looked like animated script writing itself out in bright silver on a moving blue-black surface. i was looking for words in the cursive, thought i saw my own name. rex renée, king reborn. but we try to make sense of the surreal all the time in our search for meaning. maybe it’s just something i made up, maybe that is enough. i’m not sure, maybe it doesn’t matter either way.

later, on my way home i was young leo, loneheart ladyboy romeo if he lived, grew up,  and got his shit together on my metallic purple bike with my purple helmet and purple shorts—color of royalty of lions. i biked past king st til i was on verona st. in front of the visitation church, where my grandmother, elder leo, attended mass, got christened in, confirmed in, married in. the church my mother, linda, donna, & michael also were christened in. where uncle eddie was just memorialized in. i was looking up at the moon and creating my meaning, writing the book in my head from the movie i’m living inside of. leo. king. verona. romeo. renée. visitation.

where miracles can occur: II cups. feeling. connection. reciprocity. mutally-exchanged beauty. a romantic approach to anything that is meaningful. an ability to experience seeing/knowing, being seen/being known. respect & honor. share your appreciation, strengthen bonds, make efforts, offer kind words. growing, blossoming.

i have to connect with these would-bes, shape her memory into a best-case-scenario parallel reality fantasy, because it empowers me to keep going, to see myself as she did, and also because she was the one figure in my life who wasn’t conflicting to me, she was a rock and a home and a safety net. and we protected each other in a way that was only gentle, and i think knowing we couldn’t do much about what surrounded us. i was never confused about her love—what it meant, if i had it, if it would disappear. she was never violent, but she did see and hold a lot of it, and i did too. she didn’t lash out, she didn’t refuse her faults. we took care of each other, and everyone else. the eldest and one of the youngest. mess. but, it’s just what happened.  

the people i love all over in my life remind me of what this kind of holding looks like. commitment to each other, patience, allowing ourselves to bask in our own similarities and truly honor our differences, to listen without having to hear our own voices, etc. to stand up for each other in healthy ways and more than just saying so.

setting/having/owning/respecting/talking about boundaries and limits. not shutting down completely or walking out on someone when we get scared or hurt. not making assumptions. trying. accountability processes, forgiveness, repair. putting tit for tat, an eye for an eye, holding shit over people’s heads, childish revenge and lashing out to bed. self-awareness and ownership. self-love over egotism. real love/kinship over possession/love addiction/codependence/narcissism. the gentleness and patience we need when our uglinesses inside rear their heads—the moments we do lash out or get controlling, jealous, driven by ego and scarcity, fear of loss or hardship or death or heartbreak. the gentleness and patience we need when we are just hurting and need support. we are transforming ourselves together.

we do always have the potential to be or become our own and each others’ worst nightmares. denying that doesn’t make it untrue. there is power in our own monstrosity when we are brave enough to look at it. it’s not about “taming” or “overcoming” it, but about infusing it with the love and understanding and care that it needs that it didn’t have. i can’t speak to sociopathy because that state of being feels too deep and far gone for me to wrap my head around any healing to. but our own pain, personal and collective, ills against us by loved ones, institutions, the state, shape the monsters and the nightmares. so there is something to looking at and listening to them, the rough whispers in the dark, the void in us, to unlock truths about us that we can integrate into our being, to be whole and full. no one is fully evil, but we are influenced and molded by the nature of our world (reality as we create it). this is why i love horror movies, exploring what monsters come from the way the world treats us. but that’s not all. which is why i haven’t been able to watch them much lately. because there is some other force, nature or divinity or whatever we try to name it, in us. a force of benevolence and a pull toward harmony, toward integration. our bodies down to the smallest unit are driven toward this, everything natural, organic and inorganic, are driven toward this. homeostasis, balance. not to be confused with status quo or stasis. but to tides—push/pull, to every action an equal and opposed reaction. it’s science, it’s alchemy. in horror, this force doesn’t win out often, human failure does. not because its not strong enough, but because we aren’t. which is, in fact, horrifying. but i really don’t think it has to be or is only this way.

do the best we can. dare to fail. and our best might sometimes be another day’s worst. we get so tenderized sometimes, we break or we fall apart or we destroy ourselves or we aim to destroy other people. but we piece ourselves back together, patched up with new swatches, we rise up, we regenerate, we renew, the maiden, the phoenix, the flower, the snake. we have to. there is no other choice. well, there is death or there is total surrender to monstrosity and horror. but, better to endure, to do the work, to feel it all, to own it all. haters be damned. white supremacy/patriarchy/colonialism/capitalism be damned. all these structures that deny what is truly essential to us be damned. it’s all so childish and sick and boring and stupid. disgusting.

instead of hating ourselves—especially for what’s meaningful and beautiful about us—not being the same, humanness, feelings, infinite possibilities for who we could be and how—but also for the shitty stuff we reproduce and learn as a result of these systems we live within--& instead of being greedy or jealous of power—we need to funnel our hatred, our rage toward power, away from each other, the ones we love. funnel our power toward each other—making huge, interlocking webs of it to throw over the big, sick, fucked up, red-faced trash baby of the toxically-masc colonial project and suffocate it til it’s dead. its ghost will haunt us, roaming about, sickly ethereal over the earth, always beckoning to be summoned back into form, and it will happen, as franchises do—II, III, IV, V, fascism’s revenge, the death rattle, but we can overcome it every time. we can be more powerful and intelligent than the temptation to allow it to materialize, to be embodied. i believe that. don’t dream it, be it!

a loving message for your heart & soul in times of doubt: IX cups. pools of calm feeling. warmth and coolness. being refreshed. the light of the moon, calm on calm ripples of water. sunsets. cycles of comfort & peace. you’ve been calling it all in. times without turbulence and of having all your ducks in a row. enjoy what makes you feel good now, in the present, life--connection, music, food, beauty, nature. mastering the balance between enjoying pleasure and over-indulgence. sink into gratitude and cherish what you have. we can generate the feelings we desire in small and large ways every day. a perspective of abundance and of having. continue to stretch ourselves, expand, to strive for more, while appreciating where we are now and what we have now. fill all your cups and share them.

[the italicized tarot responses are from a spread i made for myself around faith and fate]