#this is a project we have all known we'd have to do ALL SEMESTER. they have had their rolls FOR A MONTH AND A HALF.

[kalashtars]

lol lmao when the people in your performance group project didn't prepare AT ALL for anything so now you have to attempt to edit what you filmed into something vaguely watchable and it's Not Working

[cheskapamisa]

Making it to the End without thinking it was the End.

"NING DUDA, NI SALIG, NAKALAMPOS." - FINAL PITCHING FOR ENTREPRENEURIAL MIND.

I can finally say that we did it! We made to the final pitching of Entrepreneurial Mind with our own product, PROJECT EGB!!

At first, as a group, we were skeptical about our presentation because we were unable to bring a prototype for our proposal, which is critical in the presentation and may have resulted in a higher grade. But we tried our best to find an alternative to a prototype, which is the blueprint, and we made certain alterations to ensure that we could deliver it correctly and flawlessly.

I can say that we encountered several hurdles before making it to the finals. From developing the idea to arranging the product, marketing, and conducting several interviews to gather varied viewpoints from our prospective customers. We also struggled before the final pitching presentation, deciding whether to continue with the product despite the uncertainty that it would fail or to transition to services as suggested to us and simply settle for where it is safe so that we are not burdened. The majority of us opted to continue what we'd started and take the risk. Thankfully, I have this type of group that is so supportive and amazing, and we have a good collaboration.

THE LECTURE SERIES

The Entrepreneurial Mind Lecture Series was held on May 8, 2024, at the University Convention Center, among other sections studying the same subject this semester. The event was effectively concluded, with many useful insights coming from numerous presenters. I discovered the genuine meaning of start-up from one of the speakers. I also learn about many themes including growing mentality, innovation and creativity, and business planning and strategy. The talk highlights the necessity of a growth mindset, which includes viewing problems as chances to learn rather than hurdles, as well as how to remain resilient in the face of defeats and setbacks that are unavoidable on the entrepreneurial path.

They also discussed strategies and procedures for long-term goal setting. The most crucial lesson I learnt was to be adaptive and nimble in a quickly changing business environment. In this field, I feel that learning is continuing since there is always more to learn, especially in the future, and we will discover many new things that will help us progress. Kudos to all the people behind this event, especially to Sir Reymark Menguito and the hosts which are my classmates.

THE ENTREPRENEURIAL MIND JOURNEY

The journey is unforgettable; the experience is one-of-a-kind, the lessons are invaluable, and the guidance is superb. I always assumed that we would struggle with the subject since I have been traumatized by minor subjects that give us lesser grades even though they did not really put an effort to teach us. I've always known that college life is about being independent in all we do, but this subject taught us how to be independent not because we didn't have an option, but because we felt appreciated and had a supporting back-up. I've had an incredible journey thanks to the guidance and passion of our very own instructor, Sir Reymark Menguito. We are all grateful that we are in a wonderful classroom setting, with a teacher that is both kind and understanding. Because to his diligence, we gained a lot of knowledge we will undoubtedly utilize in the future.

[reflections-on-self]

On You, On Me

This blog is called "reflections-on-self," and it's supposed to be exactly that. I would not like to waste your time. Conventionally: I'm 24, a cisgendered latino, heterosexual. I was born in New York and raised in the mid-Atlantic United States.

I struggle with the concept of gender identity, though, not in the sense that I necessarily dislike being identified as a man. I have moments where I'd like to be viewed as an attractive, textbook traditionally masculine fellow, and there are other moments where I believe myself to be one with all that exists - beyond identification, beyond binary definitions. Through all of these recent considerations, I've been very fortunate that I was previously introduced to non-dualistic thought. Because of that, I tend to view myself as something of both.

Being a human is a difficult experience for most people. I haven't lived everyone's lives, but it seems to me that the thinkers I've encountered known as Buddhists have it right: everyone wins, everyone loses. As I reflect on my own identity, I must warn you that, at times, I'll be talking about some of my own losses. I haven't expressed myself on the public digital square yet, so I'm guessing that this project (if somebody, somewhere, somehow, manages to find this and read it) will probably be perceived as a little corny, and definitely as boring. But I thoroughly believe everyone, including me, has a right to talk.

I titled this On You, On Me, because I wanted to make the topic of this essay about the first person I believe I ever truly loved.

The first time I saw your face was over Zoom. It was spring semester, 2021, and the class was Dr. E's Environmental Ethics class. I was in a relationship at the time, but my partner and I were poly and we'd both swoon over you whenever you graced my screen. She had told me that if I asked you out, I should ask for the both of us.

I was first attracted to you by your appearance, no doubt. Right away I was also taken by how wonderfully articulate you were. You spoke so earnestly about a topic I was obsessed with. It seemed like we were the only two people in that class who would consistently point to corporate interest as the primary culprit for environmental destruction. I was not a good student, but I would pay attention when you spoke. I could tell that you understood the need for an ecosocialist future too, which, even today, is difficult to find in people. To me, it seemed like nobody else, not even my partner at the time, was aware of how deeply important that idea was.

You and I never to spoke to each other in that class, except when we'd add on to each other's answers during discussions. Then the semester ended. You disappeared for a bit and so did I. I didn't think much of it. I figured I'd never see you again. I liked you then, but what was there to say, how to say it through Zoom? There was simply no way, so I never considered it; you and I.

Then came September 2022. By chance, we were both working at the college. It's a small campus, so it didn't take long for us to run into each other at the library. You'd passed by me, and, recognizing you under your mask, I turned around and called your name. I was not the most attractive man in any room, but I knew I wanted you. Back then, I was still full of butterflies whenever I thought about someone I liked. From the start, I was breaking my own barriers when it came to you. I asked you if you wanted to go to lunch or get coffee sometime.

You told me to send you an email and I did as soon as I got back to my office. You replied to that email quickly and gave me your number. You signed that email off with, "warmly," and I remember that I'd never had anyone end an email that way. Wow, she does seem warm, I thought.

Over the course of the next two months, we would do dinners, cook for each other, go on hikes, collect clay at the waterfront, we worked out at my gym. You showed me a set of trails nearby that I never knew existed. I brought you to my favorite park and we talked for the whole hike. We'd stay out until it was dark. Once in a while, we'd get lunch together.

We never declared ourselves anything. After our first hike together, I brought you to a nice restaurant in town. On the way back to your place, I struggled to figure out how to ask you out and also tell you that I was in an open relationship at the same time. I remember being extremely worried that you were going to be upset that I was already in a relationship with someone else, but actually, you surprised me by seeming completely unbothered by it.

"I'm excited to see where this goes," I said. This being our fledgling relationship, already soaked in romanticism. You were holding my hand.

"I'd also like to see where this goes," you said.

Not long after, I was at your place for dinner. You made us the best food I'd ever had in my life, to this day. I really mean that. Maybe it's just my brain and my tendency to worship the insignificant, but I've really never had anything that I liked quite as much as your spicy peanut butter tofu noodles. Maybe the consistency was a bit dense in my memory, but I remember truly thinking that it was the best home cooked meal I'd had.

We shared wine and conversation. I remember it was a nice conversation. We talked about the college, the climate, each other. I remember that I just couldn't resist being so intentionally flirty. And you liked it.

I wasn't shy at that point about showing you that I was interested in you. Maybe it was the wine, but I was also decently confident back then. You told me at some point about your sister in Tennessee, and how you might go move with her. I half-joked something along the lines of, "well, if you do go, I hope you won't mind that I come with you."

And then we went to your cozy bedroom. You kept such a pristine and lovely space. You left me in the room to go and do something, and I found myself standing in front of a wall of neatly organized Japanese woodblock prints. I was not as present a person back then, so I don't remember really taking it in as much as I wish I did now.

When you came back into your room, you joined me and told me something about your prints. That you got them at a thrift store or a garage sale or something.

And then we kissed.

And my whole being has been locked in that moment ever since. No words to describe it. Anything simply spoils it. It was the greatest kiss I'd ever experienced. So soft, so light, so smooth was the feeling of your face on my hand. So gentle. So well guided, our lips, together.

That memory has been fading, as all do.

We laid on your bed and watched Trailer Park Boys on your laptop. You wrapped your arms and body around me and we tightened around each other like that for the first time.

You squeezed me tightly and said, "Very comfy. Sturdy guy right here."

Trailer Park Boys is one of my favorite shows. We started from the top because you had never watched it. I found the show the winter prior, when I'd lived in Texas. It was my depression show. I'd lived through my first serious bout with alcoholism back then. The first season or two, which we watched, is a charming piece of comedy from the early 2000s, late 90s. I think you found the same things funny that I found funny about it: it's light-hearted and stupid. Feels far away from the cacophony that our day-to-day is in 2020s middle America. Anyway, you laughed a lot. It felt nice.

We made out more and then I left. And then the next week, you came to my place for me to cook for you.

I lived with my parents and they were returning from a trip to another state. Looking back, I lived in pretty embarrassing and unattractive circumstances. I wasn't much of a cook, and for some reason I can't remember now, the fire alarm went off. But I managed to make us a creamy corn salad that didn't come out poorly.

We tried to open a bottle of rosé that you'd brought, but we couldn't find an opener. That came to be how I looked at our relationship in retrospect.

Then we went up to my room and pulled the same routine. We hadn't even watched an episode before you were on top of me. You were all over me, and you kissed me hard. You took off your shirt, and as we kissed, you felt me up and pushed on me.

You kissed me up and down my neck, looked me in the eyes, tugged on my pants and asked, "do you think I could take these off?"

Like most men, I have a complicated relationship with sex. When I was with you, I was the kind of person to want to have sex with anyone I thought was remotely attractive or interesting. Whether I pursued it was another matter, but there's no doubt that being in a highly sexual relationship with my other partner seemed, to me, to imply that I should have sex with you.

In fact, at the time that I was doing all of this with you, my other relationship was in steep decline. My partner at the time was starting a sexual relationship with a close friend of mine, someone I'd considered my best friend since middle school. Now, that's a separate can of worms, but it's pertinent to this because I believe it influenced my behavior towards you. I severely mismanaged that relationship with her. It's important to mention here that, as I spent more time with you, I was coming to a kind of realization that I really actually only liked spending time, intimate time, with one person. That I didn't want to be in another romantic or sexual relationship with anyone else. That I only wanted you.

So when you asked to take off my pants, I said yes. And I meant that. Then you gave me head, and I'll be honest: I'm not much into receiving head. It must be that I'm not sexually developed enough yet to appreciate such nice things as much I should. I just don't feel it very much down there like that. And that you were giving it to me, it was all so quick - it just felt too fast, actually, that all of that was happening between us. Of course, I loved it. But I wanted to fuck you, not get head from you. I wanted to make you cum and hear you moan my name. And I didn't even know back then that I wanted to do that, I just figured that that's what should happen because, well, I was an idiot. There was little class to my yearnings.

And so I remember ruining it all by saying something like, "oh, that's not gonna make me cum." And when I suggested we have sex, you told me that you didn't have birth control.

So I said, "Oh, I have condoms!"

"I don't really feel comfortable using those," you said.

I must have seemed defeated or something. I remember I didn't push it further, but I still regret that I must have sounded disappointed. There was nothing disappointing about intimacy with you.

I asked if we could just lay down with each other. And then I just held you close and started talking about how much I liked you, and how I just wanted to take you places. Really, in that moment, I was struggling to tell you that I loved you and that I wanted to leave my partner for you and that I wanted to make something of us, only us. It must have seemed very pathetic.

"Well, I have this belief that everyone knows what their little heart wants," you said as my hand stroked your hair. You were telling me to follow my heart in regards to my other partner.

My little heart wants you, I thought. I knew it then and I've known it since. It hasn't changed. That I didn't say it right then and there, perhaps I'll always regret.

I've reflected on this night with you a lot. It didn't end there. Eventually, it was time for you to go. As we were walking to your car, for some reason we just had the urge to go for a longer walk around my neighborhood. I live in about as middle-class suburban of a neighborhood as one can get.

We walked to a field. It was nighttime, and we just stood out in the middle of the field. I don't remember what we were talking about. I don't remember much, but I do remember spontaneously kissing you. You seemed to like it. We walked back to your car holding hands. I realized you were leaving without that bottle of rosé.

"Keep it with you. We'll just have to drink that next time," you said.

That time you came over my house was the last time that I engaged with you in an explicitly romantic capacity. I didn't expect that to be the case. Over the course of September through the beginning of December, we'd set ourselves up to become something.

Winter break came. For many reasons, it was the darkest winter I'd ever experienced. I was sliding back into alcoholism. I was fraught.

It was during that winter that I began to recognize that, despite all that we'd done together, there was a real possibility that you and I wouldn't be together. On our hikes together, you'd mentioned that you didn't like texting. I didn't like texting, either, so I was relieved to tell you that I didn't mind if you didn't respond for a day or two. I would always fret to myself that you didn't respond quickly; I often took it as an indication that you weren't actually interested in me. That you were feigning interest - but out of what? It made no sense. I resigned, and resign even now, to the idea that you are simply awful at digital communication.

But that winter, something felt different. We had planned to call on Thanksgiving, and when I called, you didn't answer.

I came to find out, a few days later, that you got into a car accident and were concussed.

I then sent this really unnecessarily large text, because I think I was drunk when I found out. I was very, very worried that the car accident would prevent me from seeing you again, I believed at the time that if the accident was bad enough, you wouldn't come back to the college to finish your fellowship. I don't remember the text, but I just remember it being really long and it probably exposed how attached to you I was. You said something about what I said being "really sweet," and I later came around to the idea that this was not exactly a compliment.

It was after that car accident that things seemed to change with you. Or was it after the night you came over? It had to be somewhere there. Somewhere in the winter of 2022.

A day or two before you came to my house for the night I cooked for you, we were running in the woods. Running is your favorite activity, as far as I know. You invited me and I felt very special that you wanted to run with me. We both did cross country back in high school and enjoyed working out.

At some point, we were talking about the Bible and how we were both former Catholics. You said something about not having really read the Bible that much, and I agreed that I hadn't really known anything about that stuff either. But we both surely agreed that we were not Catholics, not Christians. We never spoke much about spirituality, and I believe we implicitly regarded both ourselves and each other as materialists.

Sometime in January 2023, maybe even the first Sunday, I started going to church again. I did not believe in God again per se, but I believed I needed to connect with the spiritual tradition we were both raised in.

I fell very deeply in love with you in the fall of 2022. As I type these words, I question if I even know what love means, but I think I've got an idea, a feel for it. Like that moment that we kissed in front of your woodblocks, it's simply beyond words. I am writing this essay in an attempt to give words to something that is ultimately wordless. I'm talking about eros, of course.

Before I believed I fell in love with you, I didn't believe in the concept of love as a "real thing" whatsoever. My real parents never married. My mom and step-dad always, always, always seemed to argue. My ex, the poly partner of two years, had eroded my trust by violating my boundaries while I was in Texas - a while before the debacle involving my best friend. I, myself, had cheated on that same ex in July of 2022. I did not believe in love. It was, and to this day I still generally believe it is, a bourgeois fantasy. As Marx said, "a bourgeois construct." In reality, there are only thoughts, perceptions, behaviors, patterns, agreements, contracts, words spoken, and sex.

But after I met you and came to know you, I simply couldn't resist it. It's beyond my own ability to fully control. It is a bubbling energy within me that never fully goes away. It refuses to, and I refuse to let it. When I realized that I loved you, it completely changed everything for me.

And the thing is, it seems that this realization could only have come about because of the way things went between us. If you had stayed, no doubt would I have taken your presence for granted. Maybe it's because everything was so brief between us that I find myself intensely attached to what was there.

You came back the next semester and I ran into you on campus, a day or two into the new semester. Immediately, there was an energy there that I did not remember in our interactions before. Something had changed, though I didn't know what.

I don't remember who invited who, but at some point in late January, early February 2023, we went to get lunch together at that local Thai place. Amazing food. I got the spicy peanut flavored soup and you got a pad thai. That lunch, things were pretty normal. I was somewhat relieved, I had thought that the fact that we were having lunch together meant that we were surely going to commence what we'd briefly let go of in the winter.

I asked you to be my valentine at the end of that lunch, to which you said that you don't celebrate Valentine's Day. You said we could hang out, but we never ended up doing so. It all feels so cheesy to type about.

I sent you some text at some point in late February about hanging out - doing some collage art together and maybe getting dinner. You didn't respond for a day or so, but I was used to that.

That time, I was incorrect to think we were fine. Just at the moment when I'd thought we were going to proceed smoothly, you responded with a text that completely shattered my heart.

I barely remember it now. I remember I was on a tour with my coworkers on campus, we were welcoming a new web developer to the team. Your name popped up on my phone, and I smiled instantly, assuming you'd responded positively and that I was going to see you soon. I don't remember the text word-for-word, and I deleted our chat sometime after, but you said something like:

"...after some self-reflection I've decided that I don't want to be in a relationship with anyone, not you specifically. I really like you as a person and I want to continue to hang out, but I understand if this changes things for you."

I told my boss I had to take the rest of the day off.

My whole world began to collapse as the realization set in that we weren't meant to be together. I don't care if someone who manages to read this finds that idea so utterly childish. I don't care how little that problem seems to others. I care about my own feelings on the matter, which is why I'm writing this in the first place. I felt like, and still mostly feel to this day, everything suddenly became completely pointless after I realized that you didn't intend to keep me around.

I didn't respond to your text for a few days. Ever the instant reply guy, I had both no idea how to respond and an urge to make you feel my silence. On the next Sunday, after church, I decided I would respond. I don't remember how I responded exactly, but I asked if we could meet in person and talk. I pointed out that it would be "unhealthy for me" to just "pretend like nothing happened" between us. You agreed to talk.

Sometime in March of 2023, you texted me and asked if I wanted to "get some beers" and hang out at the waterfront after work. A reminder to me that, through all of this, you must view this situation so inconsequentially. You are, it seems, completely oblivious to how deeply I fell for you; maybe even oblivious to the fact that I fell for you at all. For me, the idea of drinking alcohol around you in a context that wasn't a wine-and-dine situation seemed like a bad idea. I had been trying to quit alcohol, I hold my relationship to it accountable for the loss of many a friend and partner in my past. I told you that I'd pass on the beers, but I was happy to talk.

We walked and talked. It was a nice day on the campus. We walked to what was our favorite spot on campus. The bench under the tree next to the water, surrounded by a cemetery. It's a place I consider to be my own personal Holy Land. On the way there, we talked as if we were still together, or still pseudo-together, or whatever we were. And then when we got there, I told you everything I could tell you.

I don't remember what I said. I remember at one point I did start to cry a bit, but I don't remember what exactly I said or you said anymore. I just vaguely remember your voice explaining that you didn't see something between us being good for the both of us given that you were leaving in June at the end of your fellowship.

I remember that I looked you in the eyes and asked that, if it were ever possible someday, if somehow it could happen, that you might reconsider and come back to me. You said that you would.

It was dark. We walked back to my car and you hugged me goodbye. You thanked me for being honest.

I hoped that our conversation would lead to more interaction between us. I love you, and though I yearn for your heart and your affection, what I loved about us when we were together was simply the way we interacted. I'd never felt more at home in my life.

For a moment, it seemed like we would. Briefly, in May, I was walking with my best friend at a local trail. I was tripping on some mushrooms, and I got this sudden urge within me to text you and ask you if you wanted to hang out one last time. I don't remember exactly what my thought process was, but I think I was planning to tell you that I loved you or something. The typical thing.

So, out of the blue, after a month or two of radio silence between us, I texted you and asked if you wanted to go "platonic birdwatching."

To my surprise, you replied within thirty minutes.

"Haha yes! I was actually going to ask you if you were still running and wanted to run with me sometime."

Could you imagine how I must have felt?

Relieved. Rejuvenated. Validated. Over the moon. Like I wasn't crazy. A rush of happiness that I have never felt again and wonder if I ever will feel again.

Over the course of the next few days, I started work on a collage project for you. I cut up a vintage National Geographic magazine and put together the collage that is the profile picture for this blog. In the foreground is an elderly Chinese couple, taken from a picture in the 70s or 80s near the Great Wall. I teared up when I was searching through the magazine and found them. I thought they reminded me of us. I thought they were a perfect example of what I believed was inevitable for us. Something about the way they humbly stood by each other, something about the way the image feels like it points to that natural process called love that permeates through every human culture and civilization. Then lots of other little things. I don't feel like going into it.

My plan to let you go was to meet up with you one last time, give you the collage, tell you that I love you, and then move on with my life.

Then the smoke came from the wildfires in Canada. It blanketed the east coast of the US for about two weeks. Two crucial weeks. Suddenly, it was June. When I checked in with you, you didn't respond.

By July, I'd noticed that your Camry wasn't anywhere to be found on campus, on any day.

Sometime in August I decided that you must have ghosted me. Unable to sleep at one point in the middle of the night, I sent a little text, I don't remember what I said. Something about how I wish I knew what it was that we didn't talk, that I missed you often, that I made the collage and wanted to get the chance to give it to you eventually. And then I finished off by sending a link to a famous lecture by Dr. Michael Parenti about capitalism, I said that it's a video I believed everybody should see, and that it was the last thing I'd send to you. It was my way of making sure that you didn't think I was too upset about the whole thing. At the end of the day, the less suffering between the both of us, the better. (It's called The Yellow Speech on YouTube if anyone's interested.)

You responded in the middle of the night. Something about how you were sorry, you were in the "dregs of moving," had left by the time I'd followed up, and, if you're ever around, that you'd love to connect. You wished me well and hoped that I would find "everyday happiness (against the odds!)."

Somewhere in that text, you told me that you had made the decision you did about us because you thought that "a new, close relationship" in such a temporary time and place was "very daunting."

All that told me was that you saw what I saw. Why you didn't pursue it, I don't think I'll ever know or understand.

I didn't respond to that text. Well, I did - only later on, in November, when there was a march for Gaza in D.C. and I sent a picture of a flyer to you. I said that I didn't know how to respond to your last text, but that I hoped you were well, and that you should urge people you know to attend if you could. You did the little digital heart thing on the flyer and told me that you already had people you were going with. I hearted that message. We have not spoken since.

I have struggled with your absence in many ways. I refuse to give you a proper response, it seems it would only hurt me. I believe that if there is any further interaction between us, that it must be initiated by you. I have exposed myself and I do not intend to continue feeding a vehicle for my own embarrassment and suffering. If you care about me in any capacity, now's your time to show it. If anything between us meant anything to you, if you actually felt the way I felt about you, then, surely, I'll hear from you again.

I have held my breath before, but I don't intend to continue doing so. If it's really the case that you're gone, then I'll have learned quite a bit from this situation.

I love you, I've loved you, and, I fear and embrace, I'll probably continue loving you until the light goes out. I fear it because, well, what use was all of this - all the suffering that led to my creation, my existence, if it's all for such tragedy? Why would the universe have brought me so agonizingly close to what I truly believed was the point of my life, only to take it away so coldly? I embrace it because my love for you is the sunlight that has illuminated my whole world. I cannot go back. Your beauty, having graced my life so briefly, has led me to believe.

But even sunlight burns. This essay is a sign that I am moving on. Feelings that would have been buried before are now being expressed in your absence. I look forward to a world where I am able to create my own purpose and honor the purpose I thought I was being led to with you. I do that by living as if you were still here. I do that by recognizing my attachment to you and letting myself live out that attachment. I am certain that others will want to kiss me, and I'll kiss them; I am just as certain that I'll always miss you and want your kiss more.

Everything is perfect and I am entirely grateful for what has happened.

[pink-peony-princess]

Months on the making

"Please?" My best friend Ashley, begged, chasing me around the dorm room.

"I don't know," I sighed flopping down on the sofa and switching the TV on. It was 3 in the afternoon so there wasn't much on, but the aimless chatter was enough to block out the whining coming from my roommate.

"Please, please, please, I'll clean the toilet for a month, and you can use my Netflix and steal my lecture notes," she added. I looked at her laughing slightly as she got down on her knees and literally begged me. "Who knows," she added when I didn't respond. "It is a cross facility party, so you might even see some cute guys there, cute doctors," she added.

"Shawn won't be there, there's no way, he's a week out from starting his residency," I stated as if this ended it.

"Who said anything about Shawn?" She smirked, getting up. "You're coming!" She called, walking into the kitchen and returning with snacks. "I mean come on! It's not like you two haven't been sussing each other out all semester ever since you worked in that group project for communications, I mean it's clear you like each other, he's even told his buddies, make your move girl, he's perfect for you!" She encouraged.

"He sure is that," I agreed, dazed just thinking about him. He was tall and built, with broad shoulders, and soft brown curly hair, an award-winning smile and charm to boot. On top of all that he was a really nice guy. No one seemed to have a bad word to say about him.

Two hours later we walked into the party, and I was immediately taken aback by how many people were here. "I'm going to get a drink," Ashley yelled over the music. I nodded turning around, coming across the one face I didn't want to see.

"Oh shit, Hayden is here," I hissed, running to catch up to Ashley.

"Just try to ignore him, he's a douche!"

The night was going well and despite myself, I'd even started to relax and enjoy myself, Ashley had even managed to get Shawn and I talking, not that we didn't flirt with each other whenever we saw one another, but we never really got to have a real conversation- about the more meaningful stuff. We talked about everything from the way Ashley and Brian his best friend were flirting shamelessly, why he chose to live on campus even though he could have chosen to take his last few pre-residency classes online having successfully completed his residency year and what he was looking forward to most.

I was on a real high- he was so easy to talk to (and flirt with)- he'd even suggested we go out for breakfast which immediately got my heart racing. The thought of going out with Shawn-alone, was thrilling.

This changed however, when Shawn declared that he was going to get a drink and Ashley announced she was going to the bathroom, leaving me on the patio where we'd been chatting all alone. I heard the door go, expecting it to be one of them back already, but when I turned, I found Hayden, sauntering over to me, a disturbing smirk on his face. A third-year sports major, med school drop out Hayden was a class A arsehole that would try to get with any girl he could-everyone knew that. He'd had more security warnings than anyone else in our year and he'd decided that his latest challenge was me. It had started in communications class which all journalism, med and sports science majors took- along with a few others so it wasn't uncommon to run into people from other courses. Basically, if you had to talk to people as part of your career, you took the class.

But when I'd told him I wasn't interested, like so many others in the class before me had, he took that as a challenge and had made my life a living hell for the past three months.

"So Kenzie, you finally come to your senses?" He slurred, coming to stand mere inches from my face, his breath stunk of stale beer.

"Go shove it," I spat instinctively taking a step back in an effort to put some distance between us.

"Careful Kenz, you don't have your little pozzie with you now." He grabbed my wrist, slamming me into the side of the building, knocking the wind out of me. I could already feel where the rough stone was cutting into my exposed skin of my back, wrist aching.

"Get off me!" I yelled again, moving to push him away. This only seemed to anger him further though.

"Man she said to leave her alone, " another voice spoke, "so leave her alone." The figure was tall and it was only when they stepped into the light that I realised it was Shawn. Relief flooded me.

"What are you doing here Mendes? Come to protect your girl?" He taunted.

"Stopping a dickhead from doing something stupid," He spoke cooly, a new drink in his hand.

"Wait, what's your degree again, oh yeah...medicine, well let's see how good you really are!" He spoke, pulling me into him by my already pained limb and then thrusting me backward again, smashing me into the wall and ripping my dress in the process leaving me exposed and vulnerable. The relief I had felt moments earlier was replaced with terror.

My head was spinning, a dull ache starting at the base of my scalp, my legs gave out and I found myself on the ground, a shivering, shaking mess.

"Someone call security to come get this piece of shit out of here," Shawn called to the group of people that had assembled at the commotion before crouching down beside me.

"Are you okay, Kenz?" He asked, looking me up and down. I was in too much pain to care that he or anyone else was seeing me practically naked.

"Kenzie, Kenzie oh my God!" Ashley yelled, coming to a skidding halt beside me.

"Give me your coat," Shawn spoke urgently gesturing to the woollen material Ashely had wrapped around her. She handed it over quickly, allowing him to wrap it around me carefully.

"Brian, come help me get her up and inside," he called when he realised his friend had returned.

"We're just going to help you stand up okay?" Shawn spoke gently. Taking my hand.

"Owwww, owww, stop!" I begged, feeling another wave of dizziness and nausea wash over me.

"Right come here," He spoke, picking me up in one gentle but fluid movement. I closed my eyes then, but I could feel people pointing and starting as we made our way through the house and out into the night air. The breeze was cool and dry, bringing me to my senses a little more.

"Out of the way people. I'm half a mind just to take her to the hospital, " He muttered to Ashley and Brian who I could hear trailing behind.

"She won't like that, can't you check her out yourself?" Ashley pleaded and I silently thanked the heavens that I had a friend like her.

"I mean, I could, but if I think she needs to go to the hospital once I look her over, we go, " he bargained.

As we walked for what seemed like ages the pain only intensified my side now throbbing horribly. I was almost certain I was going to be sick when we came to a sudden stop, the lock on a door clicking open.

"Brian get the first aid kit and my bag?" Shawn asked, moving rapidly through space and placing me down onto what felt like a bed.

"Kenz, Kenzie, open your eyes for me, honey." He urged, tapping my arm. With great effort to fight the increasing lethargy, I opened my eyes, blinking furiously at the bright lights that stung my eyes overhead.

"Where are we?" I whispered, trying to ignore the pain- I felt like a life-sized ache.

"We're in my dorm room. I wanted to go to the hospital, but Ash said you may not like that so I brought you here. I have the stuff to treat you here, providing you don't need any further testing, " He explained, kneeling beside my bed as I looked around. I made the mistake of trying to get up, and immediately regretted it when my ribs protested angrily.

"Easy, easy, he warned his expression one of sympathy and concern. "Stay there Kenz, I'll move you if need be. Do you remember what happened?" He asked, glancing down at me with a soft smile. I nodded, somewhat reassured by Shawn's warmth and competency.

"Hayden, " My voice was hoarse from the shouting earlier. He nodded.

"Good, that's a good sign."

He stood up, reaching for several items by the door- the first aid kit and a bag- no doubt the one's he had asked Brian to retrieve.

"Where are you hurting?" He asked, looking me up and down, appraising my injuries. Just this small action made the tears I had been holding back, spillover, a mixture of pain, fear, relief and embarrassment. "Hey, hey, you're okay. Shhh, you don't need to cry, " He murmured, taking my hand gently in his, immediately enveloping me with warmth. I had known I liked him for months now, and every time we interacted this was affirmed more by small things he would do or say- getting me my favourite coffee before early morning tutes, offering to walk me to class. Yet somehow this felt so much more intimate and I almost forgot where we were until Ashley cleared her throat.

"Do- do you wanna help her change and we'll come back in a minute. You can have one of my shirts." Shawn spoke shaking his head as if clearing a fog as he got up and threw a soft sweater at the bed.

I nodded mutely, not trusting my voice.

"A little help?" I asked Ashley, when the door closed.

"Girl he is smit-ten, She sang, coming over to help undo the ripped material of my dress."

"Shut up! He's probably just outside the door,"

I hissed, wanting very much to hit her over the head, but not wanting to move again for fear of pain.

The shirt smelled like him- a mix of Sandalwood and some sort of earthy, almost woodsy tone.

"You can come back in, " She called when I was decent again and laying back on the bed.

Thankfully Shawn was extremely professional, acutely aware of the strange situation and my escalated anxiety. Asking permission before so much as taking my pulse.

When he got to my ribs, he stopped, barely touching the bottom of the sweater.

"May I?" I nodded, sucking in a huge breath as the anticipation of pain (and Shawn's touch) over whelmed me. I could help, but hold my breath, as he gently palpated the area, feeling in and around my ribs. "Nothing feels broken, " He commented, after a little bit.

"So no hospital?" I asked praying he agreed. His brow furrowed. I would still feel better if you saw a fully licensed doctor. I'll call my mate okay. Connor, he's really chilled," He spoke, pushing some baby hairs off my face. "In the meantime let's get these cuts and bruises sorted, " He smiled.

Not much was said for the next half an hour, Shawn working quietly and efficiently. The only time I felt any pain was when he and Ashley had to sit me up so he could clean and disinfect my back. My wrists he said, although badly bruised and about eight differ ent shades of purple would heal on their own.

I was just starting to get sleepy, Shawn tapping me every so often to keep me awake when there was a soft knock at the door, before a man around Shawn's age, maybe a few years older walked in.

"Kenzie is it? I'm Connor, he introduced himself with a smile. "Shawn told me what happened, is it okay if I have a look at your head."

I nodded, trusting him, because Shawn trusted him. And honestly I just wanted, no needed, sleep.

Like Shawn his assessment was thourough, but quick. "You can lay back again, " he murmured as he finished checking me over, putting his penlight back in his pocket and pulling his gloves off.

"So?" Shawn asked, looking between me and his friend.

Connor sighed, "Yeah, you're right, she does have a small concussion, you know the drill, rest, lots of fluids, wake her every hour. He got you good, I'm sorry to say, " he grimaced. "Is someone staying with her?" He asked looking between me, Shawn and Ashley.

"I could stay, I mean, if you're okay with that?"Shawn spoke looking to me.

I shrugged, hissing as the action, pulled at my ribs.

"Okay, it's settled then, " Ashley clapped, a sly smile on her face, which I could just see past Shawn's torso blocking most of my view as he sat beside me.

Brian and Ashley stayed for a little longer, chatting quietly between themselves as I lay there half awake, and exhausted, but unable to sleep. When Shawn declared that it was time for them to go, because the 'patient' needed rest (this got a glare), Ash tried to kick up a stink, no doubt hoping to witness more content with which she could hold over my head. Shawn however wasn't having it, and insisted they come back tomorrow.

"Finally, some peace, jeez, my head hurts," I laughed, again regretting it.

"Here, take these." He handed me some tablets and a bottle of water. Sitting beside the bed on a chair, which he had pulled from the desk across the room. "It's been one hell of a night! I'll have to take you out to make up for it, " He spoke casually.

I turned, surprised, not quite sure I believe what I was hearing.

"Like a date?" I sqeeked out, feeling my face flush.

"I mean, I just thought..." He trailed off, rubbing the back of his head nervously.

"I'd like that," I smiled.

Get some rest and when you're better we'll organise something, it's been months in the making. Don't think I haven't noticed the way Ashley's been 'accidently' having to talk to the professor in comms class leaving us alone." He smiled.

I blushed, just thinking about it, damn, he was more perceptive than I thought. "Don't tease me, I'm sore, and tired, " I grumbled.

"I'm here if you need me, Honey, " He spoke, my heart swelling the nickname.

"Thank you, Shawn, "I spoke reaching for his hand as I finally fell to sleep.

[genderfluidfuckernamedfox]

He's not on here so fuck it.

There are about 4 people in this world that I would do anything for. So imagine my shock when one of them stabs me in the back. He basically attacked who I am as a person and accused me of several things that I would just NEVER do to anyone. I've been grieving the death of our friendship and at this point I keep bouncing from anger to depression. I know that he's projecting his insecurities onto me and I shouldn't take it seriously but my heart is still broken because of this situation.

A little back story: My friend(who I've known since 8th grade) had just dropped out of college to take a semester off and figure out what he wants to do with his life.(good for him tbh, I hope he finds something he's happy with) I've been sick since school started but he still wanted to hang out with me and I said I would help him move his stuff from his dorm into his new place.(which is his grandma's house, he lives with her) So we drives 2 hours to his college, meet his friends and have a nice time, load up all of his stuff and then head on back home. It was a fun trip and I loved seeing his friends. Now every year or so we would talk about how we would be a good couple. He tells me that he wants to be in a poly relationship with me and another friend.(this friend currently has a gf he's living with) So my friend had the full intention to "homewreck", as he put it, this dude and date him along side me. I was like alright, I was cool with it bc we'd all been friends for a really long time. I however do not wanna date 2 dudes(I like chicks way more). I think one of the main reasons he wanted to date both me and our friend was because he also wanted to eventually rent a place with both of us. Which again I wouldn't mind doing in the future but I currently have a three year old brother and a seven year old sister that I help take care of and I don't plan on leaving them until my little bro is in school.

So dating... I really like relationships, but they don't like me. I'm very excited that he's giving me any type of romantic attention. However I'm also in beauty school and have 8am classes everyday so hanging out with him every night for a little over a week is getting exhausting; but I care about him so I'm going to make time for him if he really wants to see me. One day we hang out with another friend of ours that I haven't seen since highschool. Jasper is his name, we go over to jasper's house to play some board games and just chill out, he's also got like 5 dogs so we eventually go on a night walk with one of the pups. I'm so damn tired at this point, it's the end of the week and I've currently been sick for 2 weeks. I notice that my friend seems a little off but hell, I'M a little off so I don't pay much attention to him (which is very unlike me, I'm usually the one that makes sure everyone feels included) if he really feels excluded he would just assert himself into the situation right? We've all been friends since highschool so it shouldn't be a problem right? Wrong. I finally get a day with just myself and my family and he sends me this text

So after being up my ass for an entire week he's going to say all of this shit about me and act like I've been an ass this whole time we were hanging out.

He said he wanted to date me and then broke up with me before we even dated.

He thinks I'm copying him being trans (what the actual fuck, how self centered do you have to be to think that my identity has anything to do with you)

He's accusing me of making fun of him for cosplaying, singing, and acting which 1. I HAVE NEVER AND WILL NEVER DO TO ANYONE and 2. Are all things that I do as a hobby. I've literally only ever tried to encourage him with all of these things and he's going to blatantly lie to me through text about things that I did??? What the actual fuck.

I've never acted like I hate anyone, and if I have I can garentee you that it was meant as a joke.

He says that I'm not motivated to grow up but I'm literally furthering my career in a field that I'm passionate in and loving myself through all of the hardships that I face, that's mature as fuck.

He complains that he hates the county that we live in and I've agreed with him that it's kinda a bad place but I've got family and shit to do here so I don't hate it.

Kaliym is the person he was planning on "homewrecking" and me and kaliyms friendships is very different from mine and his. I joke that I hate kaliym to his face and he's like "I love you too" bc he knows I dont mean it. But this dude can come back in my life for a week after beening gone for over a year and think that he knows me.

Honestly I'm glad this happened because this is what a toxic friendship looks like and it needed to end.

My parting words for this post and specifically for him are as follows.

Fuck you.

[mt-clydesdale-poke-santuary]

You've talked about yourself, Dr Mal, and your fairy expert but who's the other staff that helps keep the place runnin'?

The rest of my team are wonderful! We couldn't keep going without them, so lemme tell you about them.

When we first started proposing the Sanctuary project, we knew we needed to have security, preferably experts who'd dealt with poachers and contentious pokemon populations. Svaha and Cable, married couple of nerds, were actually in Yerette for a different project with an agri company, but we met through the university and Sva agreed to be part of the initial security team.

Of course Cable came with her and they just...never left I suppose. In the early days, it was really just me, Jules, Sva and Cable. None of us were officially full time then but we'd all end up sleeping overnight in the staff quarters. Particularly since poaching raids were pretty nasty back then.

Next on the team was Ani (Anette) our water specialist and head of river maintenance. The first rainy season we weathered was rough. People tend to dump trash down river from us, beyond the Sanctuary land where we can't stop them, so we tend to flood, a lot.

Ani came on as a favour to one of our program supervisors when we desperately needed somebody that could work with water types to keep the river clear. Ani, another Unova transplant, was a god send. They aren't a full time staff member though, contrary to what a lot of people think.

Because Ani's very skilled at waterway maintenance, they actually rotate between nature reserves and sanctuaries across the region. They're here more often than other places, but they're gone quite a bit too.

Hmm, next were our next three actually. Harli, Montgomery, and Moni. They all came on in the third year? If I'm remembering right, they're all from Unova too...actually, a lot of my staff are from Unova, it's a huge place. Anyway.

Moni is our grass type delight, something we needed just as much as a river maintenance person. As I'm sure you know by now, Yerette's energy causes a Lot of plant growth and the Sanctuary is a nexus of the energy, meaning we get overgrown very easily. Moni and their team really help keep the place habitable by humans.

They don't interact with the public very much, but if you can catch them on a really good day and know enough about grass types, they'll tell you everything you could possibly ever want to about them.

Harli and Montgomery are also a couple and they're who really keep this place known to the public. Harli and Montgomery set up lectures and get us invited to symposiums locally within the greater Caribe region and even internationally. Harli's the reason I've been able to go all the way to Kanto to lecture about Yerette's unique pokemon variants and the wonders of our Sanctuary. They are amazing at what they do, and a little terrifying.

Montgomery organizes for all the school tours, on site lectures, and university projects that we have coming through. They keep us well saturated in the public education system of Yerette, bringing awareness to the Sanctuary and the need to protect it, and helping kids learn about our local wonders. They've got entire syllabuses written up per age range and semester. It's incredible.

And E. Lated! Our head tour guide! Lated is our newest full time staff member and came here because of A) the fairy types we've got on site and B) Dr Jules. As one of the preeminent fairy type experts he's actually in pretty high demand as a lecturer but he stays with us because he's a sweetheart like that.

A lot of students are disappointed by that but Lated didn't let that stop him. She came all the way here and signed on as staff so they could learn about fairy types hands on, and be mentored by Jules. Her loving the local fauna, flora, and history of the site was really just a huge plus.

Late gives the best tours and even knowing all that I do about our Sanctuary, I never turn down a chance to listen to Lated talk about our site. He's got a wonderful way with words, and a very pretty voice.

[lostanddrowned]

Still mad about this one time in high school, idk why it just came back to me now, but I'm going to shout it into the void!

In my sophomore honors history class, we had to do a lot of group projects. That alone was pretty crummy, but of course, it gets worse! The projects we did were often a way of the teacher getting out of doing all of her work, as she was going to retire after our year and she was just absolutely done with everything. So the assignment was "decades" and we were randomly assigned a decade from 1900 forward and were forced into groups of 3. My trio received the 20s, much to the jealousy of one particular group of all girls and a different group with a very loud guy in it. My two partners clearly didn't give a damn what we received, as they had no intention of helping out. They had been partnered with the "weird, smart, quiet, overachiever" after all. I would have been excited to do any research pre-1960s honestly. The guidelines were rather non-specific. We had to write a research paper and prepare a presentation on our decade—notable events, the type of lives people led at the time, and pop culture from the decade (like music, film, etc).

Skipping over the bumps in the road with my so-called partners, I'll just let it be known that I wrote all three research papers (unnecessarily altering my writing voice in the other two) and set up the whole presentation myself...because yes, even our individual papers went into the whole group's grade. The two useless clinger-ons also got out of speaking in the presentation by claiming that they were too nervous to public speak and (to my relief) that worked. We did, however, at least agree that we'd all dress up for that extra bit of credit.

Their ideas of "dress from the 20s" was the guy threw on a suit, which luckily that works, but the girl just wore a sparkly and definitely not school appropriate dress that she got away with all day by claiming it was for a presentation. It wasn't even Era-styled in terms of beading, color, or at the very least, silhouette. I, however, had gone to multiple thrift stores, hunting for the right materials, shapes, and styles that I could use to build up my outfit and character.

You see, I'd gone through all this work of being a woman from the 1920s. I was in journalism, which played into why I had the information to report on the lives and goings-on of my time period. I had found a grey, cloche style hat and added a lil ribbon and bow to it. I'd found an unassuming, beige dress in a perfect square cut and draped to my calves. I'd picked up some heels that, while not perfect, had that modest low heel that wasn't too thin nor too thick. I had also found what I felt to be such a lucky find; a grey, woolen jacked that was nearly as long as the dress. As bonus, I had a long string of pearls (fake, mind you) from some costume long forgotten to add to my 20s outfit. And even though I rarely wore makeup then, I did it up in style—a slightly orange tinted rouge in circles on my cheeks, a bright red on the lips, and brown eyeliner with grey shadow (to complement my greenish eyes).

My ensemble was as perfect as I could get it in the time frame. I don't know if I have pictures from back then, but for reference, here's some pics that my ensemble resembled:

So all that effort to look the part, downloaded music to play during the presentation, and I really knew my stuff. And then, everyone in the class, including the history teacher, didn't "get" my look. Even with pictures just like the ones above as part of the presentation, they just scoffed at me.

I had basically "Disney princess cast member"-ed the whole thing, taking on the role of a woman in the 20s, sharing information like I was just reporting it to time travelers or something, and answering questions about the era as though I was from it...And in response to my monumental effort and genuine excitement to play my role and hopefully teach and entertain—snarky comments, confused classmates, and blank faces. All which anyone associated with the 1920s was prohibition and the speakeasies and flappers that go with it. So when I didn't look like some fancy, forward dressing flapper—everyone was lost. Even the goddamn teacher.

Yeah, I got the extra credit. Yeah, my group got an A for all the back-breaking carrying I did.

But I basically went through the rest of my day dejected. The only other presenting group that dressed up was the 80s decade and all three of them did the stereotypical neon-dancer-pop-girl looks. I fully participated with questions and comments for all the other presenters that day (we'd gone first, upon my request to the teacher) but my spirits were pretty crushed. The two other of my teachers that day that chose to ask about my odd attire had the same response as everyone else; "why aren't you a flapper? I don't get it." Even my nerd friends at lunch didn't quite understand and their eyes full on glazed over when I started sharing actual information.

The only person that made me smile that day was a teacher I didn't even have a class with at the time. I was on my way to my locker when he asked about the outfit. I told him it was for a history presentation, I was a journalist from the 20s. He told me it looked great, and even asked how attached I was to the hat and jacket because he knew the drama club wanted to put on the Great Gatsby next semester and the costumes the school had were lacking. We talked for a few minutes before we both had things to do (and I kept my hat and jacket, I was actually a bit attached to the ensemble... More now actually that even just one person thought they were neat).

So I'm still mad that basically nobody thought I looked the part just because I wasn't some flashy flapper.

But at least my one teacher, whom I admired for a number of reasons, made me go home feeling like I wasn't going to light the school on fire just yet. So... Thanks, to him. And everyone else can fall down some stairs.