I am a survivor of the terror attacks on the World Trade Center in Lower Manhattan on September 11, 2001. I lived four blocks due east of the Towers.
I lost my home that day, was homeless and destitute for years, and in 2018, after extensive vetting by the CDC, NIH, and NIOSH, was given a Zadroga Act diagnosis of 9/11-connected PTSD as a result of my experience and exposure to the aftermath in the World Trade Center Disaster Area from 9/11/01-1/20/02.
Monday will be the 22nd anniversary. As always, I will mark the day with my family and loved ones, and I may or may not be online that day and evening... every year is different.
I no longer dread it, and neither should you. Speaking as the only person most of you will ever likely know who was directly affected, literally a card-carrying Certified Survivor of 9/11, I hereby grant you freedom from all anxiety, guilt, despair, anger, resentment, discomfort, and anything and everything else that remains in your spirit and mind and heart that troubles you about that day, that has never quite resolved, that prevents you from sharing the joy in my own heart at having survived, at being alive.
If you must be angry, be angry at the way we were used in the years that followed, but do not aim that anger at us any longer. We who were injured in the attacks that day are not the ones to blame, nor did we have any say in or influence over anything that flowed from them. We who survived are not to blame for the bigotry you suffered or the wars that followed or the scorn of your view of this country and its leaders. We did not slaughter untold millions of innocents in faraway lands.
The random, free-floating anger, the wishes that we too had died in the attacks, the perverse cries to me and others of "you deserved it!", make those who attack us complicit in the attacks of that day - because we were targeted for 22 years in the same way that the terrorists targeted us for slaughter that morning.
The home I knew and the place I loved no longer exists. What's there now belongs to another generation, where new life has grown out of the charnel house of devastation, where memories have been made and children have played and careers have flourished and love has been found and lost and found again, and there is comfort there.
Don't worry about us; we take care of our own. You honor us best by living as we do: fully, freely, always going forward, always in the light.
I will keep you close in the days ahead. You are never far from my heart.
"I AM ALIVE"
Animal J. Smith
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I see you disabled people who don't know your family medical history because your family members couldn't/wouldn't/weren't allowed to go to the doctor and never got diagnosed, or don't know your family.
I see you disabled people who didn't know you were disabled growing up, physically or mentally, maybe because your parents didn't have insurance and couldn't afford it/wouldn't take you seriously/didn't think it was a problem because they had it/doctors couldn't figure it out.
I see you disabled people who have bouts of an issue that you grew up with, that are/were infrequent enough that you never really thought about it and dealt with it on your own, and when you have one in front of people who weren't medically neglected, you wonder why they look so horrified as you describe it.
I see you disabled people who didn't/haven't had any amount of care or accommodation for their disability since it started, because you couldn't get diagnosed.
I see you disabled people who grew up thinking everyone had the same problem as you and that it was normal and so you accepted it, because you didn't understand how the human body worked and had no real frame of reference nor the language to ask for help, or the people around you saw it and just ignored it.
I see you disabled people only now understanding that what you experience is abnormal, and that there are things that can be done to help it, make it easier, or at least help you understand yourself better.
I see you disabled people that will never be able to get diagnosed or get the help you need, whether from being poor, lacking insurance, or any number of reasons.
This shit is hard, and there are people who will never quite understand your struggles. It doesn't seem to get talked about as much, but I wish it was. Please know I love you, and you aren't alone.
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The second you start talking about some mysterious "they" that are controlling society in some fashion, you are engaging in dangerous conspiratorial thinking even if you're being woke about it. "They" did not institute the 40 hour work week specifically so you would be too tired to revolt. "They" did not invent the sleek minimalist aesthetic in order to crush the spirit of art in the common people. "They" are not pushing mediocre media into the mainstream in order to poison people's critical thinking skills.
Your best case scenario after that is you talk to someone who actually knows what the fuck they're talking about and you get embarrassed because you can't answer basic questions about your own ideology because you never learned anything past "the ruling class/capitalists/politicians are making things bad and if we got rid of them the bad things would all go away!"
Your worst case scenario is obviously the woo-to-fascist pipeline and you end up believing Jews are poisoning American food supplies with GMOs in order to turn us all into beta cucks, so like . . . maybe just stop blaming "them" before you fall down that route.
Obligatory round of disclaimers: Yes, sometimes people do bad things. Be specific about exactly who is doing what instead of ascribing it to some vague group of shadowy elites. Yes, sometimes things in society are bad. Learn to identify the root causes of complex social issues instead of assuming that they're actually extremely simple to fix and we're just not doing it because of some vague group of shadowy elites. Yes, minimalism isn't for everyone. Learn that some people don't share your tastes and get the fuck over it for the love of god.
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Thinking about the fact that Mabel and Dipper didn't know they had two great uncles.
Yeah they are 12 and at 12 I had a shotty understanding of my family tree- But really? Nobody brought up their great uncle? Stanley? Especially since they'll be staying with his twin brother, Stanford?
Shermie never went to Stan's fake funeral, which to me means the twos relationship was strained on some level. If Shermie is older that means his view of Stan was poisoned in some way, that even as kids they weren't close. If the Shermie is younger then he never even got to meet Stan and all he knew about him was how he failed his family. Hell, people probably barely mentioned Stanley TO Shermie.
The fact that Stan had become a black stain upon the Pines family name makes me so vividly upset. Stanley faked his death and the family just- seemingly decided to strike him from the record. To pretend he didn't existed to spare themselves the sadness and shame.
Stanford and Shermie Pines. The only children worth mentioning of Filbrick and Caryn Pines.
It was never Stanford that was lost to the world. It was Stanley, ever since he had to leave New Jersy- it was always him that had to be struck from the record. Change his name, change his state, change his affiliations, destroy the remains of ghost that was Stanley Pines. Kill him so the family doesn't bring him up, doesn't ask questions, stops asking "Stanford" about his twin.
I just keep thinking about the fact that since the day he made one single mistake all the way up until Ford walks out of that machine- Stanley Pines was killed and did not exist. And Stan himself had no one to blame, he had to play the part in his own demise- He is the only one who ever knew Stanley was alive and has been for decades.
He lives in the multitudes of every personality he's ever taken, all in the hope that he himself can stop being Stanley Pines.
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Modern Writing Advice: don't load your readers down with a bunch of different names! Keep things simple so they can remember what you're talking about.
JR²T Himself: And here are these three mountains. Now listen to Gimli wax poetic about them and their names and histories in three different languages, then refer to the Extra Educational Material at the end of your volume to see what he's talking about.
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it’s actually no surprise that how many angels who actually care for Cas seem to hate Dean and Sam.
because from their pov sam and dean are the bad influence that got their indomitable leader of the garrison Castiel to stray from his path and become this sidekick to two humans
everything Cas gets out of this transaction, this family of his, love, friendship, companionship, feelings, hopes and dreams are things that are alien to the angels
samamdriel said it best, ‘too much heart was always Cas’ problem’ but he said it like it was a bad thing
but for Cas it’s the reason for his existence since he found his family and that’s why he’s the perfect blend of humanity and angelic existence. he’s the middle ground that never was before 🥺
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Dress me up, make it tight, I'm your dolly
You're my doll, rock'n'roll, feel the glamour in pink
Kiss me here, touch me there, hanky panky~
Inspired from This post of @just-dol-headshots and this ask from @hakusins. Don't worry I'm still aiming for your ass Haku-Dean :) References and something under the cut
We all have to agree Bully Robin should have some softer and caring sides. When there's only them two and no one else is around to judge, he can let loose and slip back into that kinda of "Original Robin" we know and I love. I mean, that's what JDOLH made that got me into these swap messes from the beginning jsjkhskjhd you knowww the HUG!!
Reference: Barbie Girl (Aqua) and this cute ecchi Clamp Chobit piece
All in all I'm a pink bietch and Dollya won't be losing her V-card anytime soon that I can promise so hang in there okay mr.Bully.
edit: OMG THIS IS MY 1000TH POST TTOTT)) JKSDJLASKJKDLA
SELF-INDULGENT HERE WE GO
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