#uneducated and just love to smoke weed all day

[dykekakashi]

i'm tired of dating why can't i just meet the loml organically

[kyoko0001]

So I got re-diagnosed with ADHD recently and got on proper medications for it. I say re-diagnosed because I had been diagnosed in childhood multiple times, but my parents refused any sort of therapy or treatment for me. I’ve spent my entire life self medicating in various ways and beating myself up in an attempt to just be functional. 

I gave up on normal years ago!! After so many teachers, family members, and friends just telling me to be quite. Just pay attention. Just make a list. Just try this app. Just stick to a routine. Just write it down. Just don’t be so sensitive... I seriously wonder sometimes if I just... human wrong? 

The things my parents and teachers constantly told me run on repeat in my head every time I notice the gap between me and ‘normal.’ I berate myself by saying I am just being lazy. I am not trying hard enough. That if I can only do better, read another self help book, find a new app.... That I could be normal too. Everything would click and I could get my shit together. 

Over the years I think I myself have become my biggest bully... and I learned to bully myself for the natural way my brain works because a bunch of uneducated adults and teachers told me I was purposely failing because I just didn’t care. I learned that I didn’t deserve love, empathy, or basic human respect until I ‘grew out of it’ and that was so deeply ingrained in me, and my inner critic got so big, that I thought I was just... bad. Not even broken! just offensively wrong to everyone and anyone I came across.  

When I was a kid and still in catholic school we would stay after school mass for private prayer or reflection and I would look around at all the statues and crosses and wonder what I did to make god hate me. 

Let that sink in. 

I thought my parents and teachers hated me because god had made me bad. and no matter how many prayers I said, how often I went to confession, or how much repenting and apologizing I did to those statues... nothing changed. 

I don't have a unique experience. I am sure a lot of you relate to this and I am fucking sorry. 

I only graduated in 2015 guys. I’m 23. Those same ignorant teachers and school administrators sill work with kids just like me every single day and I wonder if they understand what a negative impact they can cause. Not just on kids with ADHD... but any kid who doesn’t have a perfect home life or is struggling with mental health issues. We are called liars. We are told we are faking. We are told we just want attention. We are called dramatic. We are told we are lazy. That we lack work ethic and if we don’t want to work at McDonalds for the rest of our lives we better get it together. 

The thing that always frustrated me the most... is that I always tried.

It was never about not trying. 

I don’t think I am more overwhelmed as an adult then I was in school... but I think I am more aware that it is not normal for things to actually be this hard. I’ve been in therapy for like... 2 years now I think? I needed two years of therapy to deal with the complex trauma from my first 18 years of life to even get to a point of being able to show myself enough compassion to not instantly shut down the thought of “well maybe I have no reason to lie to myself and everyone else about how my brain works?”  

Yes. 

I have a lot of genuine fear that I am making the entire thing up for attention and all those teachers and my shit parents were right all along. That really I am just lazy and life really is this hard and it wont get any better because everyone procrastinates or gets distracted every now and then. 

I know I am not alone in this ether. Tons of people feel this way about their mental health because our society treats mental health differently than other forms of illness or trauma. You wouldn't worry about faking a broken arm or a failing kidney. 

I was shaking as I waited for my appointment to start. I was terrified that I wasn’t going to be believed even though all I had to do was tell the truth. I was afraid to say that I felt like the coping skills I had learned on my own through self help books and therapy were not enough and I wanted to try medication. I was afraid she was going to think I was just a drug seeker because I have self medicated with different things in the past to try and quite my head down enough to function. 

Instead I felt listened too, validated, and not alone. 

I had my first day at work today on my new medication and FUUUUUCK is there a night and day difference. I don’t act any different in a social setting but guys... . My head was quieter then it has been in years and instead of crying in the bathroom because I was overwhelmed... I had to take a quick cry brake because it was 4:30 and I actually got everything done I needed to without my brain pulling me in 50 directions all at once. 

Do you know how much energy you have at the end of the day when you’re not spending your entire day mentally berating yourself over the fact that you are doing everything but the thing you need to do? Do you know how much time I save when I don’t have to start from the beginning of work tasks over and over every time I get interrupted because I loose my train of thought and don't want to make a mistake? 

After I got out of work it was not straight home to smoke some weed and vegitate because I am out of spoons and transformed back into my natural gremlin state. I stopped and put gas in my car, I did my dishes, I walked the dog, and I worked on my fics some while still getting downtime! I still got to play on tiktok and obsessively check the election results. 

My energy level, concentration, and mood have been consistent the entire day. That NEVER happens. 

I get to go to bed tonight knowing I did every fucking thing I was supposed to do today and honestly... I have no clue how many years its been since I could say that. 

Today I wasn’t just functional... I got to feel normal. 

[neon-junkie]

Coming in Nosy! 3 & 45. 👀

45. What’s the worst date you’ve ever been on? i honestly havent been on any bad dates, or many dates to begin with ;-; im extremely picky, and i sadly lose interest very quickly (idk why lol im just fussy)

other ask is under the cut, trigger warning for drugs!

3. Ever done any drugs?

i have yea, and im very pro-drugs. as in, i think most drugs should be legalised, and regulated to ensure that people can take and enjoy them without hurting themselves. a lot of bad drug press comes from misuse, such as people taking them without actually knowing how to take them: the dosage, how long to wait inbetween doses, and so forth.

i smoke weed about 2-3 times a week, not loads, just a hit or two on the bong before bed. i enjoy listening to music whilst on it, or just falling asleep because weed naps are incredible!!

i literally did coke last night lol. it's not something i do often, but my mates had it so hey, why not?

i used to take a lot of mdma before lockdown, and i do plan on dipping into it again when clubs/raves are open. i've also tried pills before which was a nightmare - long story, and i have my abusive ex to blame for my misuse/bad trip. i've also done speed, which was fun, but again, i was uneducated and took the wrong dosage. nothing bad happened, but i was just fast as fuck boi!!!!!

thats all that ive tried. id love to dip into psychedellics at some point, but i've struggled finding contacts with them lol. one day hopefully!!

[insomniac-dot-ink]

The Gentleman and the Dancer

Summary: A hero takes the hands of a dancer with red slippers meant to make her dance to death. 

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She was beautiful. Beautiful in the way that didn’t know it: sunsets and autumn leaves, dew on fresh grass and the wings of colorful birds in flight. She was a creature of slim arms that bent and swooped like swans elegant necks and legs that twirled her with a thoughtless grace. She had long auburn hair made-up in an elaborate bun balanced on the crown of her head. Her face was picturesque and compressed with a mouth that frowned so delicately and small nose that wrinkled so tastefully.

It was a shy beauty that lacked presumptuousness.

Mariana Loupe. They brought her in with two guards and a handmaiden weeping as she approached. ‘My Lord!’ The lady cried with splotchy eyes and wet cheeks, ‘we have a great tragedy.’

I climbed down from my throne and approached slowly toward the woman in a fitted red dress and sleek movements. She was spinning, spinning and spinning and holding herself with a resolute weariness. There were bags under her golden eyes and when she looked up I knew something terrible had happened here.

‘What is it?’ I beseeched the guards.

‘The great dancer,’ the guard on the left announced through his echoing helmet. ‘She has been cursed with a set of red slippers that will have her dance until her death.’

My face fell and I turned toward Mariana, ‘is this true?’ I peered down at her cinched red dance slippers and my heart squeezed as I saw spots of blood pooling at the toes.

‘I’m afraid so,’ she said in a whispery voice that barely reached my ears. ‘Only a great love will break the curse.’

I took a step back and looked her up and down. My expression grew hard, ‘who did this? We will bring them to justice!’

She shook her head and her arms extended above her head and she did a perfect pirouette. ‘It’s too late. There is no justice to be had…’ Her eyes flared in my direction and I swallowed dryly.

‘What can I do?’ I decided right then and there I would do whatever I could to free the great Mariana Loupe.

She gave a bloodless tilt of her head, ‘I have danced for three days now with one gentleman after the next, but none have been able to break the charms of the slippers. I’m afraid it might be hopeless.’

‘Never!’ My voice filled the chasm of the chamber. ‘This is my land and my castle and I say what is allowed or not. And I say there is hope!’

She presented the smallest of smiles and twisted in place in a deep plié. ‘As you wish, my lord.’ She said demurely and bent backward, ‘but I’m afraid time is running out. I am… tired.’ And I could practically smell the exhaustion running off her in waves.

‘So, a gentleman can break this damned thing?’ I reached for pale dove-hands, ‘I am nothing but a gentleman myself.’

The guards took a step back and the handmaiden gasped gently as I grabbed the lady out of her dance of death. Her red lips parted in surprise and her eyes shone.

‘My lord…’

‘I will not see a beautiful thing die just like that.’ I grinned boldly. ‘Not if I can do something about it.’

‘Thank you, my king,’ her eyes were brimming with unshed tears. ‘Thank you.’

We began to dance: first a slow waltz, and then a cheery candle dance, and then finally a swaying ballroom dance where we leaned on each other. By that point the guards and servants had left us and taken up their usual posts at the doors and night time watch at the gates.

The great clock chimed midnight when the maiden started to truly sag and collapse under her own weight. I started to speak to keep her awake.

‘Where are your parents?’ I asked conversationally despite the fact I could feel a prickly pain crawling up my own thighs. ‘Surely they must be distraught.’

‘Passed, my lord,’ she said gently. ‘They were from a small town in the North. And one winter they did not make it to see the spring.’

‘I am so sorry,’ I responded with a frown. ‘That must have been difficult.’

She raised a leg up prettily behind her, ‘it is what is. Sometimes we must bear things we don’t expect to bear.’ She said with a sigh, ‘and it opened up my way to move to the city and be trained as a dancer.’

I exhaled slowly. ‘My parents have also passed. Along with my older brother,’ I said and squeezed her hand on reflex. ‘I try to find silver-linings in it myself.’

‘Indeed,’ she tilted her head to the side. ‘I too mourned the passing of Prince Henry.’

I nodded mutely and spun her in a tight circle, ‘where is your troupe my lady? Surely they must be worried sick about you too.’

‘My fellow dancers are playing in a different city,’ she said blankly. ‘The unrest in the capital has sent them toward the western country.’

My brow folded in, ‘I am sorry they have been disrupted.’ I said though my jaw clenched slightly, ‘I am trying to weed out the vermin in the capital as we speak.’

‘That’s a lot of people to bring to justice, my lord,’ she took us in a loose circle and leaned closer to me. ‘They are hungry vermin, no?’

‘They are always hungry,’ I growled. ‘They simply don’t pay attention to growing season conditions and considerations I must take into account.’

‘But they are the ones that grow it, no?’ She was spinning them in a faster loop now.

‘The city is mostly merchants and uneducated riff-raff, not farmers.’ I said in a hard tone. ‘But I don’t expect an entertainer to know of city demographics.’

‘You’re right, my lord.’ She said and her golden brown eyes diverted to the floor. ‘What do I know?’

‘And what about a lover, my lady?’ I changed the subject. ‘Surely he must be worried sick about you too.’

‘Oh no,’ she said with a quick tongue and a sudden needle-point punctuation to her words. ‘My lover passed in the famine. Like my parents. And like the riff-raff outside your gates.’

‘Excuse me?’ I tried to step back, but Mariana Loupe was spinning us in a whirl of red and hard pounding steps across the floor. 

‘Don’t you want to know about the gentleman I danced with before you, King William?’ She asked slowly in her same whispery tone.

I tried to release her small hands but something had plastered us together and kept our fingers locked.

‘The Marquis of the eastern farms which have known nothing but floods and tax collection,’ Mariana’s face opened up to the wild smile of a jackal or a hungry wolf.

My feet started to screech with a red hot pain. ‘Wicked woman!’ I tried to step away but the pain only climbed my legs with wet, wrenching fingers.

‘The noble Lord of Coin that has raised rates on the poor each year,’ She announced without remorse. ‘And now King William,’ She sneered. ‘The Heartless.’

‘Release me, witch!’ But the sparks were erupting by our feet with smoke hissing from the floor itself. ‘Your devil shoes-’

‘Oh, they are still cursed, all cursed,’ she said and spun us in a wicked dip, ‘but what love could rival justly spilling of your blood, my lord?’

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[morningsound15]

I confess I've not watched most of the movies that u reblog gifsets of, but I'd like to; I just don't know where to start. What would ur top 5+ movies for the cinematically uneducated be? Best conditions for watching? Which should I start with, for any arbitrary reason? Hope ur day will be full of endorphins--endorphin anon

GOD i love this question so fucking much holy shit

y’all might not know but i minored in film studies so i am a true Film Hoe at heart. a problem w/ film studies (historically) has been that the movies ppl study tend to be primarily centered around white men. so u are not going to see any white male directors on this list! someone else can talk to u about them but i will not

         1. In the Mood for Love — Wong Kar-wai (2000)

Probably my fav movie of all time. The cinematography is beautiful, the story is aching and tragic, the musical suite that persists throughout the film will make you feel like time has been suspended. In Hong Kong in the 1960s, a man and woman discover that their spouses are having an affair together. Slowly, as they try to uncover the affair, they develop feelings for each other.

Idk that’s kind of a terrible summary I just love this movie so so much. Watch it late in the evening when you don’t have anywhere else to be. Watch it on a TV; turn off the lights and wrap yourself in a blanket and let the story carry you. Have snacks nearby because there is a LOT of food in this movie and you will want to eat it.

        2. Orlando — Sally Potter (1992)

Loosely based on Virginia Woolf’s 1928 novel Orlando. I love this movie because I love Tilda Swinton and I love how weird the music is and how beautiful the costumes and sets are and also because I love a little gender-fuckery in a movie. Basically a young androgynous nobleman named Orlando (Tilda Swinton) is given a large tract of land and a castle by Queen Elizabeth I, along with a shit ton of money, but only if he obeys her command: “Do not fade. Do not wither. Do not grow old.” So he doesn’t. He lives for the next several centuries. One morning, in the 1800s, he wakes up to discover that he has transformed into a woman. And that’s all I’ll say about that!

Watch this movie during the daytime, in the winter, when there’s snow on the ground. Watch this movie with your friends, and split a couple bottles of wine. It’s sometimes funny and sometimes serious but always fun, and you’ll be surprised how invested in the story you get.

         3. The Handmaiden — Park Chan-wook (2016)

I mean this one goes without saying but it is potentially the greatest queer film every made. It’s absolutely stunning, South Korean cinema is extraordinary. This is a tale of conmans and high society and double-crossings and a woman falling in love with her maid and then having unbelievably hot sex with her… I’m not going to spoil anything more. It’s a loose adaptation of Fingersmith and you should just go right now and watch this movie immediately. Watch it 100 times.

         4. Howl’s Moving Castle — Hayao Miyazaki (2001)

This is a great movie. Hayao Miyazaki only really makes great movies. You might know Spirited Away — his most famous film — but my personal favorite has always been Howl’s. The world that Miyazaki is able to craft is vibrant, rich, and a fantastical steampunk dream. There’s magic, witches, a talking fire, and a house that walks through the countryside on its own.

Truly my recommendation for this is smoke a little weed and watch it for the art/animation. Watch it on a Saturday morning when the sun is out and you’re already feeling joyful. Watch it on a TV, if you can; it slaps harder that way.

         5. Daughters of the Dust — Julie Dash (1991)

It took until 1991 for a feature film directed by a black woman to be distributed theatrically in the U.S. For that reason and that reason alone we should all watch Daughters of the Dust (and everything Julie Dash ever makes). But it’s also a really stunning movie. It’s set in the early 1900s, and tells the story of 3 generations of women who live at Ibo Landing on St. Simons Island as they’re preparing to leave their homeland and migrate North. (Ibo Landing was the setting of a mass-suicide in the 1800s. Enslaved Igbo people from Africa refused to submit to slavery in the U.S. According to folklore + the story when they saw the fate that was awaiting them, all of the enslaved people from the boat turned around and walked together into the water to drown).

The storytelling is non-linear, the dialogue is sometimes hard to understand (there’s heavy use of the Gullah language and unusual sentence structure), the visuals are lush.

This movie is on Netflix! You can watch it right away! This is a good movie to watch on your computer (turn the subtitles on).

Honorable Mentions:

Cléo from 5 to 7 (dir. Agnès Varda, 1962) — The movie that birthed the French New Wave! Also I’d die for Agnès Varda. Also it’s in French so have subtitles on lol

Roma (dir. Alfonso Cuarón, 2018, Netflix) — A movie reminiscent of the French New Wave! Almost certainly inspired by Agnès (the main character’s name is Cleo). Cuarón’s use of long-takes (which u might know from another great movie of his, Children of Men,) and ability to set up a shot that is layered in complexity for miles within the frame will leave you stunned and breathless.

[l-enfer-c-est-les-autres]

just had a long argument with my roommate about how “violence doesn’t solve anything”,  “violence is never the answer, if we kill we’re just as bad as them, look at gandhi”, and “everyone has the right to live/no one deserves to die, even murderers/rapists/fascists/etc”, “if a woman’s being abused she can just walk out the door while the abuser is sleeping”, and how “there’s always jobs available nearby for everyone if you work hard enough, that don’t require transportation and are sustainable for you and your family and you magically qualify for and don’t require any luck”. she’s absolutely a good person, and generally well-informed, but this is where white, middle class privilege shows.

1. self defense IS NOT EQUAL to assault. there is no moral comparison, and those who argue this are brainwashing their victims into allowing themselves to be victimized, to not fight back, to roll over and make things easier for them. if it’s kill or be killed, the aggressors should absolutely be the ones to die.

2. no, i do not value the lives of murderers/rapists/fascists/etc as equal to that of their victims. if it’s kill or be killed, they should absolutely be the ones to die.  it’s not about the morality of the death penalty; in the USA, the ‘justice’ system is blatantly broken: prisons are for profit, black kids who smoke weed go to prison for 6 years while white rapists get 1 week of jail time, sexual predators and offenders become president. when the system not only fails to protect you, but is part of the oppression against you and your loved ones, fighting back is self-defense, and you should and must fight back with all the means at your disposal, including violence.

3. india rebelled violently against britain, there was violent armed conflict between indians and british, gandhi just became the figurehead of the movement, and there were other factors such as economics at play; it is total bullshit myth that india achieved independence solely through pacific protest. resisting and fighting against the depredation of a colonizing aggressor is self-defense.

4. sexism, classism, racism, fascism - there is a war going on. people, lots of people, especially the poor and POC, are dying every day, murdered deliberately and though the negligence of the government and the society that is supposed to serve and protect them. you cannot “vote them out” because a) in the USA, the popular vote DOES NOT MATTER, the electoral college chooses the president and most americans don’t vote enough at the lower levels of government to claim any measure of democratic power (not to mention the US has been an oligarchy since Reagan), b) the system is designed by the people in power so that they remain in power. the system literally CANNOT be fought from within. ex: a good number of dictators were originally democratically elected; then once in power they change the laws so the presidency becomes a lifetime office. corrupt governments - and all governments become corrupt over time because enough/too many humans are selfish, greedy, stupid creatures - are self-sustaining and will legalize evil and corruption. bribing officials and buying elections? legal in the USA. under the trump administration, getting rid of the EPA means legalizing known dangers to public health and safety such as toxic waste dumping. the water crisis in flint? perfectly legal for the government to do nothing for 5 years and let an entire city suffer without clean water and get lead poisoning (the citizens are suing the government for damages, but this will not undo their suffering or restore their health). this is why revolution is the only means of destroying corrupt government and restoring power to the people, and revolution is self-defense.

5. the rights we have today - women’s rights, equal rights, LGBT rights, children’s rights, human rights - our grandparents and parents absolutely fought and died for them, they did not wait around pacifically waiting for those in power to give them some, and too many of us today are still fighting for ourselves and others. suffragettes were imprisoned, assaulted, and had their lives ruined; martin luther king jr. was assassinated by the FBI only 50 years ago when my mother was a teenager (don’t let those black and white photos fool you into thinking it was further away than it really is), and countless others died protesting and fighting; the LGBT at stonewall rioted and physically fought the police for 5 days. so many of the LGBT+ community are still fighting today, and being harassed, physically and sexually assaulted, and murdered, and teenagers are especially vulnerable and often are kicked out of their homes and forced into homelessness. those in power never voluntarily relinquish, share, or give power, because it doesn’t benefit them; they have to be forced to do so, including through violent means, and this is self-defense.

6. no there aren’t magically convenient jobs for everyone everywhere, and it is nearly impossible to climb out of poverty. when you’re living paycheck to paycheck, losing a job for even a week can be enough to force you and your family into homelessness, and from there it’s nearly impossible to find work without a permanent address, a phone number, access to regular showers and food, and god forbid you need healthcare in america, etc. you’re disabled or it’s freezing winter outside? financial insecurity and homelessness is a death sentence. in france the gilets jaunes movement began to protest a tax on cars that would have crippled the working poor, because while it’s good in theory to reduce carbon emissions and save the environment, there is not the infrastructure necessary to replace those cars. in north america, you can’t go anywhere without a car; if you live outside the city or in certain neighborhoods there’s no public transportation or it’s unreliable, or what would be a 10min trip from my house to the grocery store would take >2h30 by bus because there’s a highway to go around, which is simply not doable: the more time i spend commuting, the less time i can spend working, sleeping, feeding myself, taking care of dependents, etc. in contrast, you could live without a car in most of Japan because they have amazing public transportation. fighting to maintain the means of self-subsistence is self-defense.

7. i asked her: have you ever had to worry about where you were going to sleep tonight, or whether you could eat? no, she hasn’t. how many homeless people do you know, when you’re talking about how you and your friends all managed to find work within bicycle distance of your house? none. when is the last time you or your loved ones were threatened and endangered, harassed, discriminated against, or killed by neo-nazis, mass shooters, the police, etc? never. (ironically, she agreed that World War II needed to be fought) . when confronted with bigots whose proudly self-professed goal is mass genocide of you and your people, fighting back and killing them to prevent them from killing you is self-defense.

8. nazis, school shooters, domestic abusers, ARE NOT MENTALLY ILL. the majority of them, and this is proven by many, many studies, don’t have mental illness, and ALL of them have VALUE PROBLEMS. as in, they don’t value the lives of POC and women, they hold as a core belief that they are less and deserve to be killed and treated poorly. “if a woman’s being abused she can just walk out the door while the abuser is sleeping”: even discounting the psychological effects of abuse (hopelessness, feeling of being trapped, dependence, fear of repercussions and punishment, etc) abused women usually don’t have any money or means of earning money; if they have children it’s even harder. women’s shelters will only let people stay for a limited amount of time, and an abuser can easily find out the address. i used to live by the only women’s shelter in the area, the gate was dented from all the men who would come and beat it, with their hands, baseball bats, ramming their cars into it, shouting and threatening; i’m sure that more than one woman was caught leaving and beaten even worse for the attempt, and they are often too afraid to ask the police for help, or the police refuse to help because they’re poor/uneducated/POC/don’t give a fuck/don’t believe them because the abuser is an upstanding pillar of the community/etc, or in the USA the abuser is often a cop. and if the police do show up, the abuser might not go to court or serve jail time, meaning he’ll be free to retaliate against the woman and children, and in many cases abusers retain parental rights over their children; even if a restraining order is issued, that doesn’t guarantee it will be enforced, and it will not prevent an abuser from harming the woman and children, only punish him for it after it’s too late. for the woman and her potential children, leaving means homelessness, starvation, immense psychological stress, and huge risk of retaliation up unto being murdered. so if, since she cannot resist or escape her abuser while he’s beating the shit out of her, she decides to take a kitchen knife and kill him while he’s passed out drunk, that’s self-defense.

yes, we can and must educate people, especially children, and yes this is the only way to bring lasting change on a societal level. but in the meantime, my roommate and her loved ones aren’t the ones suffering from chronic poverty, threatened and degraded by discrimination, being denied job opportunities and basic rights, or dying from completely preventable lack of food, shelter, and medical care, or being murdered because they and their lives are considered trash. no violence is not always the only solution, but sometimes it is, and sometimes it is the best solution.

obviously her understanding of the world is going to be heavily influenced by her experience of it. and the reality is, she’s blonde, thin and conventionally attractive, from an educated financially secure family, can afford to be vegetarian and buy high-quality food every day, and she can single-handedly pay her own university tuition (in canada) with her part-time job. but it’s easy for her to say that “violence is never the answer” when she has never, and likely will never, have to fight for her life, her rights, or those of people like her, will never have to defend her inherent worth to people who genuinely don’t care. and this is a good thing, because no one should have to do any of this, but it needs to be true for everyone. so repeat after me,

PACIFISM IS FOR THE PRIVILEGED.

THE LAW IS NOT JUSTICE.

CAPITALISM IS FAKE AND NON-SUSTAINABLE, IT IS A VIOLENT, SYSTEMATIC, MURDEROUS ATTACK AGAINST THE 99%. there is no reason other than the greed of the 1% for the way our society is currently structured or how resources are being distributed. jeff bezos is currently worth 165 billion USD. if you divided that equally among all 7 billion people on this planet right now, we would each have over 22 billion, can you wrap your heads around that? or let’s convert that into time, $1 for 1 second: if i earn 50k/year, i get to live for not even 14 hours; jeff over there will live for 5232 years. so yes, EAT THE RICH. it is horrifyingly evil to have that much money, knowing the only way to have that much is to make it at the expense of the vulnerable, off of slave labor and the exploitation of human suffering, and even worse to choose not to use it to improve the world around you and help your fellow man.

[schizophreniachronicles-blog]

The road i have taken

PRACTICAL STEPS TO TAKE ( THE ROAD TO RECOVERY FROM SCHIZOPHRENIA) BY HOMINE SIMPLICE

10.7.18 (6:40AM-8:15 AM) 1) FIND THE ROOTCAUSE:     A) - IS IT DRUG RELATED?           - USE OF MARIJUANA/SHABU/COCAINE/HASH HISH/WEED/MIND ALTERING             DRUGS          - STOP TAKING IT/DETOXIFY          - SEEK DRUG REHABILITATION AND MEDICATION FROM A PSYCHIATRIC            INSTITUTION.          - WILL TRIGGER VOICES/VISIONS/HALLUCINATIONS     B) IS IT BECAUSE OF UNREPENTED AND TOO MUCH SIN? (ONLY IF YOU BELIEVE        IN GOD)        DEUTERONOMY 28: 28-29/DEUTERONOMY 28:45        1 CORINTHIANS 3:15-20/ 1 CORINTHIANS 6:12-20        JAMES 5:13-15       - CONFESS TO GOD DIRECTLY(CHRISTIANS)/ OR A PRIEST(ROMAN CATHOLIC)         ALL YOUR KNOWN SINS FROM THE TIME IN CHILDHOOD WHEN YOU         LEARNED WHAT IS GOOD AND EVIL, UNTIL THE PRESENT TIMES.       -SEEK RELIGIUOS INTERVENTION       - PRAY OVER AND ANOINTING OF THE SICK BY ELDERS OF THE CHURCH  C) IF YOU THINK IT IS AN ATTACK OF THE EVIL SPIRITS OR THE DEVIL( NOT       FALLING UNDER CATEGORY A/B/D/E/F).      - SEEK AN EXORCIST      - READ THE BOOK OF TOBIT IN THE BIBLE(VIA INTERNET/GOOGLE IT!)        ( SALTED FISH HEART AND LIVER AND INCENSE PUT OVER COALS, THE SMOKE        WILL DRIVE AWAY THE EVIL SPIRITS AND WILL NOT COME BACK/TOBIT 6:8) D) IF IT IS CAUSED BY THE ENVIRONMENT?     - ABUSIVE AND AGGRESSIVE PARENTS     - MOLESTATION( SEXUAL AND VERBAL ABUSE)     - PLACES THAT ARE NOT PEACEFUL AND CONDUCIVE TO LIVING(NO PEACE OF       MIND).    - SQUATTER AREA    - TOO MUCH POVERTY    - SO MANY FAILURES AND DISAPPOINTMENTS IN LIFE(EMOTIONAL TURMOILS)    -HAUNTED PLACES    SOLUTION: AVOID TOXIC PEOPLE AND GET OUT OF THE ENVIRONMENT FAST!

E) CAUSED BY INFECTION OF THE WOMB  OF THE MOTHER DURING PREGNANCY?     - TREAT IT MEDICALLY F) SAD EVENTS IN LIFE THAT TRIGGERED SCHIZOPHRENIA:   - DEATH OF A FAMILY MEMBER OR LOVED ONE   - LOSS OF A JOB   - BEING BANKRUPT   -BEING HEARTBROKEN   - NO PEOPLE TO TALK TO OR VENT OUT   - FEELING ISOLATED   - NO SUPPORT SYSTEM   - FEELING OF LIFE HAS NO MEANING   - IT IS A DEADEND/I WANTED TO GIVE UP   - EVERYTHING IS WORTHLESS   -BOTTLED EMOTIONS   - FEELING LOW   - TOO MUCH FRUSTRATIONS AND TRIALS IN LIFE   - FEELING SUICIDAL/TO HURT SOMEBODY OR SELF SOLUTION: IF YOU CANNOT SLEEP WELL FOR MORE THAN 5 DAYS, SEEK MEDICAL                     HELP FROM  A PSYCHIATRIST. PRESCRIPTION FO RIVOTRIL MIGHT BE                     NEEDED. ASK YOUR DOCTOR FOR SLEEPING PILLS.                     EACH PERSON HAS A UNIQUE  PAIN AND FRUSTRATION LEVEL HE OR                     SHE CAN ENDURE. CASE TO CASE BASIS. SOME ARE ONION SKINNED.                     - IT IS SAID IN THE ENCYCLOPEDIA THAT HAVING NO SLEEP FOR 5                       DAYS WILL MAKE YOU MAD AND IRRITABLE.( SEARCH THE INTERNET                       FOR TRUTH ABOUT THIS). G) GENETICS- YOU GET IT FROM YOUR GENES, PARENTS, GRANDPARENTS ,                         RELATIVES. 2) SEEK MEDICAL HELP FROM A PSYCHIATRIST WHO HAD 20-40 YEARS OF    EXPERIENCE. THE OLDER THE BETTER. SINCE MEDICATION IS BY TRIAL AND    ERROR, AN EXPERIENCED PSYCHIATRIST CAN MAKE A SIGNIFICANT DIAGNOSIS    AND A WIDER KNOWLEDGE OF THE RANGE OF MEDICATIONS TO TRY ON THE    PATIENTS. 3) RELY ON GOD FOR HIS MERCY   - READ AND BE KNOWLEDGEABLE UP TO WHAT YOU CAN COMPREHEND ONLY.      YOU COULD NOT MASTER EVERYTHING IN A LIFETIME. DO NOT DWELL ON      MYSTICISM AND NEW AGE STUDIES( ACCORDING FR GABRIEL AMORTH, CHIEF      EXORCIST OF THE VATICAN) OR HIGH FALLUTING WISDOM.   - “A LITTLE KNOWLEDGE IS A DANGEROUS THING. SO IS A LOT”- ALBERT       EINSTEIN   - MEDICATION TAKES TIME TO TAKE EFFECT( 12-18 YEARS IN MY CASE)   - TRY TO SLEEP 8 HOURS A DAY.   - NOT TOO MUCH TV. WATCH NEWS ONLY, AND INTERESTING NEWS ABOUT        MEDICAL BREAKTRHOUGHS/ENCOURAGING TOPICS IN BOOKS/SELF      DEVELOPMENT/LISTEN TO GOOD MUSIC( CLASSICAL AND RELAXATION MUSIC)  - YOU HAVE TO CHANGE YOUR LIFESTYLE TO SIMPLE AND CLEAN LIVING - NO DRUGS/NO WINE /NO WOMEN FROM THE SONG IN THE 80”S TURNING    JAPANESA( LOL)

- BE PASSIONATE FOR HOBBIES - READ “DESIDERATA” POEM, YOU WILL GET AN INSIGHT WHY IT WAS TOP OF THE  CHARTS IN 1970. - SHARE YOUR KNOWLEDGE AND EXPERIENCES TO OTHERS SUCH THAT OTHERS MAY LEARN FROM YOU AND LEAVE A LEGACY. SUCH THAT OTHERS WILL NOT COMMIT THE SAME MISTAKES IN LIFE. - PRAY DAILY(THANK HIM FOR THE DAILY BLESSINGS/ASK FOR DAILY FORGIVENESS OF SINS/ ASK FOR DAILY REQUESTS FOR YOU AND YOUR LOVED ONES). - GET WISDOM FROM READING THE BIBLE( EX PROVERBS/PSALM/ECCLESIASTES/SIRACH/PSALM 23/PSALM 3(UPON WAKING UP)/PSALM 4( BEFORE SLEEPING)/PSALM 15/PSALM 91. - LEARN TO MINGLE WITH THE LOWLY AND SIMPLE PERSONS, SOME OF THEM HAVE GREAT LIFE EXPERIENCES AND KNOWLEDGE, THOUGH UNEDUCATED. BUT YOU HAVE TO FILTER OUT THE TRUTH BY COMPARING WITH FACTS AND FIGURES(IN THE INTERNET). YOU SHOULD ALWAYS MAKE DECISIONS BASED ON DATA THAT YOU GATHERED. DO NOT JUMP THE GUN OR DO BY INSTINCT ONLY. - IT IS A TRIAL BY FIRE, SO BE STRONG AND COURAGIOUS!

4) WHAT THE PATIENT  CAN DO: - LEARN TO LISTEN WELL - DO WHAT IS RIGHT EVEN IF THERE IS NO ONE WATCHING! - ONLY GOD KNOWS OUR FUTURE!

-GOD IS GOOD BOTH TO THE EVIL AND THE GOOD. -SEEK AND YOU SHALL FIND THE CURE

-PUT ORDER INTO YOUR LIFE AND HELP OTHERS

- HAVE AN OPEN EAR TO THOSE PEOPLE YOU LOVE - SURROUND YOURSELF WITH PEOPLE WITH WISDOM AND GODLY PEOPLE   AVOID FALSE PROPHETS AND WOLVES IN SHEEP CLOTHING. AVOID TOXIC   PEOPLE! - ADMIT THAT YOU ARE SICK. ALL OF US, EVEN NORMAL PEOPLE HAVE SOME  KIND OF MADNESS AND INDIOSYNCRACIES. - IT TAKES A LOT OF MONEY AND TIME TO BE TREATED, LOOK FOR CHEAPER AND EFFECTIVE ALTERNATIVES. SEARCH THE INTERNET LIKE AN EAGLE! - GOD SAYS LEARN FORM THE ANT, THEY ARE UNEDUCATED BUT FALLS IN LINE, THEY HARVEST AND LOOK FOR FOOD DURING THE DRY SEASON AND WHEN IT RAINS, IT STAYS ON THE MOUND TO EAT THEIR FOOD. LEARN FORM THEM. 5) BONUS:   - WHAT CAN A SCHIZOPHRENIC COULD POSSIBLY EXPERIENCE: ( THAT OTHERS      WHO ARE NORMAL PEOPLE COULD NOT FEEL OR SEE/ IT IS THE BRAIN THAT      RUN AMUCK/RUNAWAY/ THE BRAIN OVERPOWERS YOUR 5 COMMON      SENSES).      THE BRAIN SENDING MESSAGES TO THE EAR, HEARING VOICES OF MALE OR      FEMALE CURSING YOU. THERE ARE THREATS AND LETTING YOU DO EVIL AND      BAD THINGS.   - THOUGHT BROADCASTING. YOU WILL THINK THAT ALL YOUR THOUGHTS ARE     TRANSMITTED IN THE AIR, SO EVERYONE KNOWS WHAT YOU ARE THINKING.     YOU HAVE NO CONTROL OVER IT. AND NOBODY UNDERSTANDS YOU.     SOMEBODY HAS PLANTED SOME KIND OF A TRANSMITTER IN YOUR HEAD.  - YOU THINK THAT ALIENS HAVE OVERPOWERED YOU AND OR SOME NEW     WORLD ORDER OR HIGHER BEINGS/SPIRITS CONTROL OVER YOU.  - YOU SMELL DIFFERENT ODORS LIKE DUNG OR POOP/EXCRETIONS/PERFUMES    FLOWERS ETC. THAT OTHERS COULD NOT SENSE. - YOU EXPERIENCE A HAIR RAISING AND BLOOD CURDLING VISIONS EXAMPLE SEEING THE DEVIL AND HIS COHORTS. POINTING AT YOU. - YOU THINK THAT OTHERS ARE TALKING ABOUT YOU, AND WOULD LIKE TO HARM YOU. PERSECUTORY THOUGHTS. - YOU THINK YOU ARE COMMUNICATING TO CHARACTERS IN THE TV OR CPHONE - YOU BELIEVE THAT YOU HAVE SOME SPECIAL POWERS DELEGATED ONLY TO YOU, LIKE SAVING THE WHOLE WORLD OR YOU ARE OF GREAT IMPORTANCE( ROYAL BLOOD)/ YOU ARE A KING OR SOMEBODY LIKE SUPERMAN WITH SPECIAL FUNCTIONS ONLY DELEGATED TO YOU BY A SUPERNATURAL FORCE. - YOU BELIEVE IN THE DEVIL /EVIL SPIRITS TOO MUCH ,THAT IT CAN OVERPOWER YOU AND LORD OVER YOU( READ THE BOOK OF JOB IN THE BIBLE. THE DEVIL HAS POWERS ON YOU .ONLY IF HE HAS BEEN GRANTED PERMISSION BY GOD. TO TRY YOUR FAITH) -TALKING EYES, JUST BY LOOKING AT THE EYES OF PERSONS, YOU CAN READ THEIR MINDS JUST LIKE READING LIPS. - YOU FEEL THOUSAND OF NEEDLES PRICKING THE WHOLE OF YOUR BODY. - RAZOR SHARP BLADES SLASHING YOUR FACE AND BLOOD OOZING BUT YOU CANNOT AND OTHERS SEE THE BLOOD BUT YOU CAN FEEL IT. - YOU THINK YOU HAVE TELEKINESIS. - ACID BEING POURED ON YOUR PATE, YOU FEEL YOUR BRAINS BURNING AND  DISSOLVING, YOU SMELL THE FLESH  AND HAIR BURNING. IT HURTS BUT YOU CANNOT DO ANYTHING. - YOU FEEL METAL NAILS BEING PLANTED IN YOUR BRAIN. - YOU THINK YOU HAVE KNOWLEDGE OF HIDDEN TREASURES/WEALTH ETC THAT  IS WHY YOU KEEP ON COMPUTING AND SKETCHING. - YOU HAVE SEEN A LOT OF HORROR MOVIES, IT IS NOW BECOMING A REALITY  TO YOU. SEXUAL EXPERIENCES WITH THE SUCCUBUS OR INCUBUS -ETC. PLEASE ASK ANYONE WHO HAS SURVIVED THE ORDEAL, AND HE/SHE WILL TELL YOU HOW HORRIBLE IT WOULD BE.

MATTHEW:7:7-8: Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you: GOOD LUCK AND GOD BLESS!

[thediaryofwhoshewas]

Our relationship wasn't the most glamorous. We weren't rich or fancy or  even middle class. In fact, we were the lower class. The ones who lived in poverty and were lucky to have a roof over our heads. People assumed people from my neighborhood were gross, uneducated, gang members who caused only trouble; for the most part, they were right. But not us.  We grew up together. We shared the same traumas of living in a gang neighborhood. We understood each other and had a mutual desire to get out. Nut that wasn't it. That wasn't why our relationship was so special, so unique. Our relationship was special because it was ours. We'd spent countless hours sitting on my bathroom floor smoking weed ans having pointless conversations that served us only amusement. Social media was never involved in our relationship. We were too wrapped up in the intoxicating presence of the other to pay attention to the drama of making a relationship socially public. It was just us, together. Nothing could tear us apart or distract u from our goals and each other.

Until one day it did; exactly one week from our departure. We were going to go to college together you know. First generation. Wed gotten out. I remember when we were younger, there was this..this tree in my back yard. We would climb it together ans hide from our parents for hours. It was our sanctuary, it was where we first kissed, where we made a vow to each other that we would get out together, where he asked me to be his. Eventually it would get dark and we would climb down and sneak back inside our  respectable houses of sleeping family members. We adopted the tree as our mother. sh

Our parents weren't the best you see, just a symptom of growing up in a gang neighborhood. E protected us until we had to return. I had it worse. While he never had a a mark from neglectful parents, I always came back with a new one each day. We would meet at the tree, we named her Bertha for her mother like nature, and he would bandage me up and wed go hunt for food and hide in Bertha. As children we attached so many of our happiest memories to Bertha, but as we grew older and more capable of getting around the town, we spent less time with Bertha. In fact, there is only one memory in my mind of us visiting Bertha as teenagers.

Exactly one week from our departure, I got a text..from him. It was odd you see because, well, he didn't text. He preferred calling as it was so much quicker. He always was particular like that.. anyways, where was I? I seem to have become distracted, as yes, the text. The text only said two words. “Bertha. Now.” at the time of receiving the text, I was in town, gathering a surprise for him. Our six year anniversary was in two days.

Of course I dropped everything and ran as quick as I possibly could to our Bertha. When I got there about five minutes later, I saw the most traumatizing thing a teenage girl in love could possibly see. He was there. Slumped against Bertha, bleeding. He looked dead. Naturally I ran to him and tried to wake him. I was relieved to find that he was alive. Barely, but he was. He had only one thing to tell me in as short words as possible...

...His story. Not the one ii knew to be true. His...his hidden story. I'm sorry, you'll forgive me for the pause, I just.. it was a shock to learn that he had joined a gang behind my back. He said..He said that he wanted to protect me and the gang was his only way out. Of course I understood why he did it.. but I blamed myself. He tried to leave the gang, to start his life with me, somewhere safe ad far from there. The only problem was, once you join a gang, you dint really get to leave. Not alive anyways...

…I called for an ambulance but the problem is that they were slow. He was...dead before they arrived. All they found was  girl, covered in blood not of her own body; a boy, stabbed in the lower and upper abdomen sixteen times; and a tree, comforting her children from afar.

Of course they questioned me and checked my alibi. Thy let me go when it checked out. I knew they wouldn't continue the investigation. I was the main suspect and he was just a kid from a gang neighborhood. Our love might not have been the most glamorous, but it was ours. It was a once in a lifetime romance. It was magic, and they took it away; if the police weren't going to do something about it, I was. So you see your honor, the justice system failed me. I had to kill those gang members, otherwise, they'd have hurt someone else.

[spillingmylifetea4481]

Chapter 2: All fucks thrown out the door.

Things started off pretty well in Miramar after we took some time to get used to living without Jack. Mom found a boyfriend for a short while, got a little lipo on her thighs and waist, got a car, started dressing more confidently and expressing herself. Eventually she saved up enough money from her cleaning job for us to get our own house and we got our dogs back. I was hitting my cringeworthy rebellion stage pretty hard. Dyed my hair teal, occasionally drank with my close friend and was introduced to the devils lettuce. I hated school(honestly who didn't?) so I skipped out sometimes on classes and gave up on my grades. I was convinced my life was shit and I couldnt grasp what I was being taught in school since I moved so often and the criteria was everchanging. I missed my friends from Apopka and had my first long time relationship(for a teenager) who was currently living there. It was long distance boyfriend so somehow I convinced my mom into letting me fly out and visit for about a week or two at a time. At some point during one of those visits I called and asked her if I could just live there and she agreed on some conditions. She wanted me to be happy really and knew all my friends were there and how much I loved it there. Little did I know she had reconnected with a man from highschool ( we will call him Jack 2.0)and planned on moving in with him somewhere in Georgia. Thats where it got worse. My boyfriend( We will call him Bob) was 16 when I met him through school friends online on good ole myspace and for whatever reason I just was head over heels for him. Really he was a racist shovanistic uneducated cuck but I ignored all of those things about him since I loved the idea of mostly living unsupervised with him. I wanted nothing more to just be in love and marry and have kids and start my life at 14. I was your typical idiot teenager who thought I had it all figured out. I was a punk rock kid and so was he so thats all I needed I suppose. I lost my virginity to him ( yall he didnt even break the hymen until 2 or 3 tries. -__-) We lived with guardians that seemed to have a house full of trashy people. The only one that was good out of them all was Bob's sister( we wil call her Angel) and boy did she just cherish the ground I walked on. She is still my best friend to this day give or take a few others. These folks allowed us to do whatever the fuck we wanted. They taught me to drive their stickshift mustang and let us leave the house at all hours not knowing where we were. At least 4 of the teenage boys living there NEVER FUCKING BATHED. The guardians would smoke weed with me, they had garbage bags full of porn in the garage, there were cats everywhere shitting and pissing on everything, they never cleaned and couldn't keep food in the house since there were 7 teenagers, 3 abled adults and 1 disabled, and a toddler living all under one roof. The most fucked up thing they did was talk me into playing a sex board game with them. They never did anything to me or touched me but they both saw me naked and there were sex toys involved on the guardians part of this game. At the time I was naive and thought this was normal. The father guardian especially had an odd relationship with me. He called me princess and if im being honest as weird and fucked up they were I do believe he genuinely did try to show me a good path he just was bad at it. He was disfigured from his face to his chest and arms and legs from being electrocuted as a child so I got the impression life was pretty hard for him growing up. Bob and I fought all the time because all he cared about was becoming a Marine, hanging out with his friends, impressing them by belittling me in front of them, he claimed to have a voice in his head that he called Jimmy Shadows and it was violent so if he got pissed off enough at me and I tried to stand up for myself he would grab my arm so hard that it bruised.. yall it was just an all around fucked situation. I was trying online schooling and that went to shit in about a months time. We ended up getting evicted and moved down the street with the male guardians parents and nothing changed really. The only good part of that time in my life was us all playing yu gi oh for hours until the middle of the night. I ended up calling my grandma and asking her to rescue me basically and she did. Boy was that a got damn mistake if I ever made one. That was the last time I lived in Florida. To be continued...

[abbixwestfield]

TASK 14B: GETTING TO KNOW MORE ABOUT YOU

SPEECH AND LANGUAGE/COMMUNICATION AND EVERYDAY BEHAVIOR/HABITS

 SPEECH AND LANGUAGE/COMMUNICATION:

Pace (does s/he talk fast, average, slow?): Abbi tends to talk rather fast unless she’s high. Then, her pace is much slower and more relaxed.

Accent or dialect, if any: Abbi was raised in a very posh section of London. Her desire to distant herself from that life caused her accent to actually change somewhat, to the point where she doesn’t even sound like her more affected parents.  

Voice tone (shrill, high, average, deep, squeaky, hoarse, harsh, authoritative, cultured, etc.): Her tone is fairly average, though on the husky side from years of smoking. It’s relaxed sounding, even when she talks at a faster face.

Any favorite/habitual words/phrases or curse words? Abbi’s speech is very peppered with British slang. Her parents hated it, which caused her to use it even more and now it is just a part of her speech pattern. She is very well versed in swear words.

Describe general vocabulary or speech pattern (e.g. educated, precise, pretentious, average, childish, uneducated, vulgar…): Because of her heavy use of slang and swear words, Abbi’s speech pattern could almost be considered vulgar. She doesn’t try to shock and can tone it down when she has to, but for the most part she says what she wants when she wants to.

 Mannerisms/demeanor?   _X__ Cool/confident

___ Volatile/moody

_X__ Nervous/fidgety/shy

___ Other?

Typical posture:   ___ Stiff and rigid

___ Stands straight but not stiffly

_X__ Average, varies with mood

___ Slumped and defeated

__X_ Slouchy, careless

_X__ Relaxed

___ Other

Gestures:    ___ Doesn't gesture much

____ Deliberate and controlled

___ Only when excited/upset

__X_ Most of the time

_X__ Wildly/weirdly

 Common gestures (e.g. nail-biting, hair patting, drumming fingers, clenched fists, hands in pockets, etc.): Abbi is a rather fidgety person. Even though she has a little more control of her powers now, some of her natural nervous habits persist, and she is still very mindful of what she touches. She plays with her fingers and clothing, twirls her hair, and will lift small objects into the air with her telekinesis when she’s feeling particularly nervous.

 EVERYDAY BEHAVIOR / HABITS:

 Finances: (prudent/cautious, average w/some debt, lives paycheck to paycheck, deep in debt, criminal activity, etc.): Abbi’s finances are pretty average. She is not independently wealthy by any means, but her music shop does well enough to make their rent and provide them with plenty of food and some luxuries.

Describe any personal habits, e.g. smoking, drinking, drugs, gambling, etc. Are any of these addictions? Abbi smokes, cigarettes and pot, and drinks. She does not drink as much as she smokes, but will not turn down alcohol. Her weed habit would qualify as an addiction, even though she’s constantly trying to cut down and has been slightly successful.

 Morning Routine:

 Describe the character's morning rituals. Who else is sleeping in the same bed? What time does he/she wake up? Is he/she cheerful in the morning? What wakes him/her up -- alarm, spouse/lover, kids, pet? What does he/she do during breakfast-read, watch tv, feed kids, etc. Abbi shares a bed with her boyfriend Sterling and usually their Great Dane Jerry Garcia. Jerry has his own bed, but almost always ends up between them by morning. Sterling is usually the first to wake, with her only getting up at the last minute at after several prompts from man and beast. She will help fed Jerry if needed, then have an apple or banana with tea or coffee for breakfast. Then a quick shower, dressed, and she’s out the door..almost always running late. She is not a morning person.

 Afternoon/Workday:

 Now describe the character's workday or afternoon behavior. Does s/he work outside the home? How does he/she get there? Does he/she anticipate, dread, resent the work ahead? Does s/he give the job genuine attention and effort? Does s/he enjoy this work? Is s/he good at this job? What would he/she rather be doing? How long and hard is the work day? Most of Abbi’s day is spent in class. She gets out in the early afternoon, then opens the shop where she stays until it’s closing. Not a model student, Abbi would much rather be at the shop than in class. But it’s her senior year and the last thing she wants to do is repeat, so she’s trying to put more of an effort into academics this year. Her attitude towards her shop is much more fond, but equally casual. Her employees are her boyfriend and a new friend, and she is in no way a strict boss. She loves her shop though, and does everything she needs to do to make it successful.

 Does s/he stop for lunch? Where? Yes, Abbi will either go home for lunch or grab something from the Master’s cafeteria or one of the eating places around the island.

Dinner:

 Does s/he eat at home or go out a lot? If the latter, what is/are his or her favorite restaurant(s)? At home, who prepares the meal? Who does he/she eat it with? What does it typically consist of? What goes on during dinner -- tv, conversation, fighting, reading, etc? Who cleans up? Now that she shares a home with Sterling, Abbi has tried to become more domestic and refine her cooking skills. So far things are not going well though, and the couple either relies on takeout or Sterling’s cooking. They always try to eat together though, when work/classes/homework allows.

 Evening:

 What does your character do on a typical evening? Where? With whom? How much does he/she enjoy it? What is the ideal evening for him or her? After Abbi closes the shop, evening is ‘family time’. She and Sterling have dinner together if they are both able, then spend time with Jerry. They walk him along the beach, or just stay in and all watch movies together. They do see friends as well, and take advantage of the island’s nightlife. Her ideal evening is just being with the people she loves.

 Bedtime:

 Does he/she go to bed at a consistent time? Alone or with someone else? Does s/he usually fall asleep right way, or is s/he an insomniac? Does he/she dream -- a lot, a little, never? Are most of his/her dreams scary, pleasant, sexual, imaginative? Are there any recurring dreams? Does s/he sleep well or poorly (e.g. tossing & turning)? Abbi tends to stay up until her eyes won’t stay open anymore, so she normally falls asleep right away. She is a sound and heavy sleeper, difficult to wake once she’s in a deep sleep. Her dreams are random and sometimes sexual, but usually nothing that disturbs her. She does have an occasionally recurring dream that she’s lost complete control of her powers, but it doesn’t happen as often as it used it.

 Skills/Talents:    

What is s/he particularly unskilled at? Abbi is a terrible cook. She’s actually famous for it; the girl will literally burn water. Other un-skills include: a blatant disregard for gravity, and the inability to at times keep her mouth shut, and make logical life choices.  

 Any hobbies (sports, arts, collecting, gaming, etc.): Music is Abbi’s biggest passion and hobby. She plays multiple instruments and wants to learn more, sings, and writes her own songs. She also collects bongs (perhaps not the best hobby) as well as other hippie memorabilia.

[survivorsforcannabis-blog]

Sheena: Medicating in an Unregulated Market Plus Bringing People of Color into the "Cannabis" Space

Sheena is a 33-year-old New Yorker, survivor and cannabis advocate. Having been a cannabis consumer for most of her life, she began approaching it from a wellness angle in recent years. Today, she advocates within her own communities and volunteers with Women Grow. Here, Sheena shares her story of trauma, what it’s like to live in an unregulated market as a person of color, and what motivates her to advocate as a bridge between the cannabis space and communities of color.  In her own words:

When did you begin using cannabis?

As a teen, I used cannabis to escape thoughts of unworthiness and sadness. I started smoking a little after my first rape at 14. I was impregnated, that was my first miscarriage. And I suffered my first sexual assault at 11. I was abused by another child, forcibly. That took a long time to process and I still have to see this person, because of family ties.

Looking back, I can say that some strains helped calm my racing thoughts, while other heavy sativas exacerbated the racing thoughts, gave me horrible flashbacks and paranoia. That’s one of the dangers of an unregulated market – especially in New York City, where you have great variety but there’s no way to control what’s coming in. I was exposed to really strong strains at a young age. It was sporadic, whatever you could get on the streets.

But I started out on alcohol. Alcohol is actually the gateway drug, not marijuana. For me and other teens around me, it was far easier to get our hands on alcohol and prescription drugs like Xanax and Prozac. You just hoped that whatever you had would numb you out while entertain you.

I also experienced a level of neglect – parental abandonment at first and then later on, they invited someone into the home that made it very hostile. There’s also generational trauma that my parents perpetuated on me, and then there’s all the cultural trauma of being people of color.

It’s a lot, and when you don’t have the tools to process, you’re gonna escape. You can use any number of things as a crutch, so that’s what cannabis was for me then. I would consume outside of the house and then when I got home I could deal with being there. Sober reality was too much to take.

Once I was a bit older and got involved with a heavy smoker, I started having regular access to high-grade cannabis and it started stabilizing, without these crazy episodes of paranoia. So through my 20s, I was a pothead. I liked it better than alcohol, it didn’t give me hangovers and I could still function, even on an indica.

In my late 20s, I ended that almost decade-long relationship with this person I had built myself around, so I had to rebuild my identity. And cannabis was there.

I actually had an intervention, three people told me that I had anger management issues, and that got me into therapy. Before that, I was very anti-therapy. But I had only seen therapy that doesn’t work. Therapy is what you make of it, like anything in life.

Many people also don’t realize that there are many different types of therapy for different experiences. Thanks to all the identities I hold, it was hard to find someone that could assist me in my healing – being Latina, being bisexual, being kinky – it felt like I already had a few strikes against me. I first saw one therapist who was great for childhood issues, but she absolutely fucking sucked for trauma. My current therapist is trauma-based and culturally competent, she’s also Latina. It’s Dialectical behavior therapy, I was extremely blessed to find her.

Has being in therapy affected the way you medicate?

It was in therapy that I started exploring those feelings that I had used cannabis to avoid, and also noticed how it relieved all of my anxiety symptoms at once. Cannabis shifted from something I could sub in for alcohol, to the medicine that it was originally intended to be. This shift also came in conjunction with when vape pens started getting popular here.

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For the record, I have five disorders – general anxiety disorder, social anxiety, dissociative disorder on top of my PTSD. But now that I was becoming aware of these things, I could realize that my reactions to stressful situations were really my disorders, and I could use marijuana responsibly whereas before, with uneducated use, I used to binge. Now, I can notice that I’m anxious, notice the physical manifestations in my body, take a couple pulls from a vape pen and be okay. I can go on with my day.

I was just becoming armed with this knowledge when I was raped again. It was domestic violence, it occurred within a relationship. This is where my life splits into two parts – my life leading up to that and my life after that. It was like an extinction, of my soul and my spirit.

Cannabis is what’s kept me alive this long, it helped me control my thoughts and be present in my body. There were so many times that I felt dissociative, like I’m floating away, like am I here, am I not? And when I smoked, I just felt like myself. Because when I was sober and had to cope with the rational knowledge that somebody I loved violated me in this way, in my own house… There were some points when I could literally feel my psyche splitting from the inside out. And cannabis helped keep me together. Vape pens saved my life.

What does your consumption look like now?

Cannabis is now an essential part of my self-care. And I don’t need a lot – there’s this beautiful concept, microdosing. I just take enough for me to be okay. Unless I’m using it recreationally, but now I make those distinctions. That’s a distinction that needs to be taught as we move towards legalization, and that’s a distinction we have to make as consumers.

I feel like smoking flower is the most optimal way to use cannabis because it’s the quickest, but when I cannot do that – because I work a very corporate job and cannot be coming back from smoke breaks stinking of anything – a vape pen is the best thing. It helps me handle anxiety and the pressure of my job.

For depression, I like to smoke high THC, high CBD strains. In Denver, I found this strain called Monica’s Miracle – the budtender called it Adderall in weed form. I do feel like I have ADHD, or Executive dysfunction – an inability to do the most basic adult things. I feel like [the reason it’s so common] is that nobody emotionally raises us or teaches us emotional coping skills. I have theories that this has to do with un-dealt with generational and cultural trauma as people of color. We’re taught how to survive, no one teaches us how to thrive. How can you teach someone how to thrive past that when you’ve never thrived past that? I feel like we’ve reached a point now where we’re starting to ask that question.

How has being a woman of color affected your experience of cannabis?

I was arrested when I was 17, for smoking and for two roaches in my pocket. This was the Giuliani era, when he was really cracking down. It was a very traumatic experience. They were two Puerto Rican cops who didn’t really want to take me, they just wanted to take the two guys I was with, but the white sergeant said I had to go, said they had to teach me a lesson.

I got arrested at 5:30 in the afternoon, was driven around Harlem in the van for hours and couldn’t call my mother until 3 o’clock in the morning. I didn’t go in front of a judge to be arraigned until 6:30 the following night. So I was a 17-year-old girl with no prior convictions, was never even suspended from school, and I spent 24 hours in police custody. I can look back now and make humor of it, but it was terrifying, and it was so excessive.

I didn’t smoke for almost a year after that because I just didn’t want to deal with it. I was like, fuck this – this is not worth it. But things were stressful at home and I distinctly remember the night when I started smoking again – I almost got into a fistfight with somebody so it was like, something needs to give. But I didn’t consume in public, was constantly watching my back. It’s only been in the last few years that I’ve ventured to smoke publicly but it’s always in the back of my head, that maybe I’ll go through that again.

The biggest thing that we have to keep in mind as we move towards legalization is access for people of color. It’s very important to pass the Marijuana Regulation and Taxation Act in New York, to ensure equity, to ensure that we do have access to sit at the table – if we choose to sit at it. But from what I’ve seen, we still have a long way to go in terms of education on what’s possible.

I recently attended the Women of Color in Solidarity Conference, so I was taking smoke breaks with other women in community organizing activist spaces, but very few of them were making the connection that they’re doing it for self-care. This comes with education. And overall, women of color are not aware of what their sisters are doing within the space.

I find that when I have conversations with my neighbors, with my friends outside the space, people just don’t know what’s going on and I feel like we’re in a bubble. That’s a big gap and for me it’s important because, especially as women of color, we bear the brunt of almost every ‘ism’ you can think of, to varying degrees, based on what privileges we carry. We’re just not centered on anything. So that is something I’m actively working towards bridging.

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Did you always call it “cannabis”?

I didn’t consciously start calling it cannabis until I “crossed over” to the cannabis space. As a Latina, Colombian to be specific – it was always weed, marijuana, hierba – slang. If you were around white people you’d say pot or reefer, whatever the fuck they’d say. I only now call it “cannabis” and started talking about the space, and noticed a shift in my own behavior, but I’m trying to keep in mind that this shift occurred because I had access to resources.

One of the things I try to be conscious of is that while I am a woman of color, I do carry certain privileges, such as being light-skinned. So I also think we need to be conscious of access to language.

Sometimes when I do say ‘marijuana,’ people tell me it’s not politically correct. I’ve had people tell me that it’s against me as a Latina, but I really never knew that ‘marijuana’ was racist. Who are you to impose that on me when that was not my experience? I would respect if that was someone else’s experience, but coming to correct people says more about you than it does about the plant.

Recently, I was at a kid’s birthday party in the projects, around my hood friends. They still smoke dutches and I’m telling them about the volcano, vaping and edibles, and they just don’t give a fuck about any of that. I kept calling it cannabis to the point that they told me to call it weed, and what am I supposed to do, keep being snotty and calling it cannabis? That’s their language and that’s what I come from.

If we want to reach people, we need to use language that they understand. What use is it for me to speak in terms that people don’t understand? Meet people where they’re at and sometimes they’ll gravitate to that. Shifts in consciousness don’t happen overnight. It’s a process.

What motivates you to advocate for the plant?

A dear friend of mine was diagnosed with breast cancer and passed away last December. She was already a consumer when she was diagnosed at stage 4 and shit got real very quickly. We went to Denver last August, to see what was out there. Vape cartridges really helped her so we came back and put up a GoFundMe to get her some. She met her $2,000 goal within 2 days of posting, then GoFundMe shut down her campaign and refunded everyone their money, because she stated on the page that she was going to use it for cannabis. It’s real bullshit.

I helped supply her with vape cartridges and sometimes it worked, other times it was not potent. That’s another problem with the unregulated market, it was an absolute mess to get any consistency in the medicine she needed.

She spent the last month of her life in the hospital, pumped up with opioids. It’s almost like the painkillers were worse than the cancer. They gave her fentanyl, which was far too powerful. It was horrific to know that cannabis could help her but we couldn’t give her that. So there’s always going to be this question, as long as I live: what would her quality of life have been if she lived in a regulated market?

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Another thing is, all my experiences led me to be trained in Mental Health

 First Aid, through a class offered by the NYC Department of Health. I feel it’s crucial, everyone should take it.  My mom took the class, and that was one of the most affirming moments I’ve had with her, for her to validate me even if she can’t quite understand what I’m going through. The fact that she was willing to see me as I am and not just pray it away or deny it, as people of color often deny these conditions, that helped a lot.

And I hope that as I open up, I can help others feel affirmed and feel that maybe they can open up. As I opened up to my family about my journey in the cannabis space, I’ve gotten more support and acceptance than I could have ever imagined.

When I went to Denver, I bought back an insane amount of edibles, lotions, tinctures – to approach my family from the wellness angle. I brought lotion for my uncle’s psoriasis and arthritis, and gave tea to my grandmother for her gastrointestinal problems. You have to tailor your approach, but the beautiful thing about cannabis is that there are so many products out there.

They were extremely interested and very grateful. They admitted they wanted to try but didn’t know where to look. So that empowers me to continue exploring what’s possible in the space, because I can see what this is doing for my family.

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[tearsofsolace-blog]

21th Century Man

From the beginning of time there were males and females placed on this mysterious environment through a unique method depending upon your individual religious views. As time moved along the role of males and females continued to evolve up until our current time. People are constantly complaining that our world seems to be doomed because our society does not improve. However, society is a cluster of individuals who form the different communities and countries throughout our world. I would argue that our society does not improve because of the social ignorance embedded in our train of thought.

Why do men have to be tough in today’s era? It is not as if we are heading into the forest to catch and kill a buffalo for dinner and bringing it back to the family table. Last time I was hungry, I conveniently went to my refrigerator and quickly cooked something on the stove and went along with my day. I understand it is important to have a physical presence so people do not disturbed your personal space or harm the ones you love most. I feel that being tough in our society is overrated. Attempting to be tough is just a facade that is designed by dumb social stereotypes to hide a man’s troubles. I honestly feel that men are more emotionally unstable than woman but the toughness facade hides their emotional instability. The majority of drug use and consumption are by men: guys smoke the most weed, snort the most crack and shoot up the most heroin to hide something that is disturbing them emotionally. All these drugs suppress your mental state of mind and provide the body a euphoric sensation to compensate for your lousy state of mind. If you attempt to seek professional help via a psychologist or psychiatrist, you are automatically labeled as a crazy person by society and you cannot tell your buddies about your situation because you get labeled as the sissy of the group. We are always told by some male figure ‘‘tough it out son be a man’’ but why? So that every guy in the world can have years of internalized anger and be a ticking time bomb, so that every guy is ready to explode on a random person who makes fun of them when they reach their tipping point. Then the berserk man goes on a massive killing spree because they were being tough until their personal psyche finally cracked by the pressure of our environment and society.

Why don’t men do more work around the house? I understand that guys generally have more difficult jobs than women but it is not like women go to their jobs to get their hair and nails done every day. In my family my dad would come home from work and expect the food to be ready on the table with my mother expected to be at his side to serve all his needs and demands. I witnessed that for many years and eventually came to the realization that was so sexist. When did it become taboo for a man to express his feelings, emotions and do something nice for his woman? Would it be a sissy move for a man to come home early to make his wife an awesome dinner, do all the house chores, and serve her need's? I am sure she loves feeling special everyday of the week and not just on Valentine’s Day or her anniversary day. I am sure she has a millions problems that are on her mind and wants someone to actually listen to her unique situation, perspective and not always hear us guys complain about our life.

Ladies if your man is not fulfilling your needs in any way then leave that little boy pretending to be man because guys do the same thing to women. When I meet a girl and if she sounds uneducated or arguably the dumbest person I have ever met in my life then any perspective of a relationship quickly end. Ladies if your man is a little on the big side then you can always convince him to lose a few pounds. If he has a horrible sense of style then you can always buy him some new clothes. If he is not satisfying you sexually then you can always buy him some Viagra but if your man is as dumb as they come then move on because you cannot fix stupid. When a girl gives me a terrible attitude for no reason, I just move on. If your man is a jerk or too cocky then move on you deserve a man who is going to treat you right and give you the respect that you deserve. I feel that a woman should never be forced to convince herself to stay with a guy who does not bring happiness to her life.

I guess I just watched too many Disney movies when I was young, smoked too much weed my first year of college and been in one too many car accidents that rattled my brain but my definition of a man is completely different from the consensus. A real man should never raise his voice regardless of the situation. If people genuinely respect you then they will listen to you even if you are speaking in a quite low tone of voice. You cannot force people to respect you through physical intimidation or fear because it is those same people that you oppress that would love to kill you the moment they see an opportunity. In my opinion, respect is earned by being humble and taking care of your responsibilities on a daily basis. A real man can provide more than just financial stability. You and your family may live in the most expensive house in the entire neighborhood but you could also be the most miserable family in the neighborhood as well. A real man can look into the eyes of anyone and tell them the truth without breaking a sweat. Lying to your wife, girlfriend, friends, or kids will only bring unnecessary harm to the people that you are trying to protect. A real man should never even consider hitting his girlfriend or wife unless the lack of physical action will result in a certain death. For example if your girlfriends grabs the kitchen knife and attempts to fillet your thigh than a real man should swiftly close his fist, and punch her in the head to ensure that she drops the knife before calling the cops and letting them take care of her. A real man should ensure that his wife or girlfriend has a smile on her face at all times. If she is having, a horrible day then say something sweet to cheer her up. If she comes home from work with a few aches and pains then give her a back rub to alleviate her pains away. If she comes home crying provide her with the shoulder that she needs to lean on for support and ensure her that everything will be okay, and when you find the appropriate situation kiss her and confess your feelings and emotions to her and let her know how grateful you are for having her in your life.

These are the kind of men that this new century needs. We need progressive men that are willing to break the norms and stereotypes of today’s society. We need to advance into the future together as men and women thinking on the same page and being treated equally.

[loverapture-blog1]

obviously.

I BECAME DEPRESSED WHEN I WAS THIRTEEN YEARS OLD WAITING FOR THIS ONE GIRL TO LOVE ME BACK FOR ABOUT A YEAR AND A HALF AND WHILE MY PARENTS AND TEACHERS AND PEERS PRESSURED ME TO IMPROVE MY GRADES SO I COULD GET INTO A STUPID CATHOLIC SCHOOL THAT I REALLY FUCKING HATE NOW BUT OH WELL. I HARMED MYSELF FOR THE FIRST TIME WHEN I WAS 14 AND I REALLY WANTED TO DIE AND I WOULD'VE KILLED MYSELF IF MY FRIEND HADN'T FOUND OUT AND TALKED ME OUT OF IT. WE'RE NOT REALLY CLOSE ANYMORE. WE DISAGREE ON A LOT OF THINGS. MY MOM TOLD ME LOTS OF HORRIBLE THINGS ABOUT BEING A DISGRACE AND A MISTAKE AND UNLOVABLE AND THAT REALLY HURT MY HEART. MY MOM HASN'T BEEN THE SAME EVER SINCE. SOMETHING REALLY CHANGED INSIDE OF HER AND I MISS HER SO MUCH. FRESHMAN YEAR WAS SO WEIRD CAUSE PEOPLE LIKED ME AND IT WAS PRETTY COOL I HAD A COUPLE GIRLFRIENDS IT WAS ALRIGHT BUT THEN I GOT REALLY REALLY SAD CAUSE THE SECOND GIRLFRIEND TOLD ME SHE JUST WANTED TO USE SOMEONE AND I MEANT NOTHING TO HER AND I WAS JUST AN EASY TARGET BECAUSE I'M YOUNGER THAN HER BUT I MEAN WHATEVER RIGHT? ALSO MY PARENTS SEPARATED. MY DAD WENT TO SOME CLAUSTROPHOBIC APARTMENT THAT FELT LIKE THE THROAT OF AN ANACONDA. I STILL REMEMBER THE SMELL OF IT. THE SIGHT OF NOTHING IN THE PANTRY BUT SOME OLD GATORADE AND TORTILLAS. WORST 9 1/2 MONTHS OF MY LIFE. I HATED IT. I WANTED TO MAKE MY DAD HAPPY AND HANG OUT WITH HIM AND STUFF BUT I WAS SO FUCKING DEPRESSED OH MY GOODNESS I WANTED TO SCREAM ALL THE TIME BUT IT FELT LIKE MY THROAT WAS FILLED WITH COTTON. I DID NOTHING BUT STAY IN MY ROOM ON MY LAPTOP. AND MY DAD NEVER COMPLAINED. HE WAS FINE WITH IT. AS LONG AS I WAS IN HIS HOME. MY HEART HURT SO FUCKING HORRIBLY BAD. IT STILL DOES. THE GUILT. I SAW HIM CRY. MANY TIMES. IT HURTS SO MUCH TO THINK ABOUT. I WAS ALL HE REALLY WANTED THEN AND THERE AND I DECIDED TO DO NOTHING BUT STAY IN MY ROOM. ALL I DID IN THAT ROOM WAS EAT PIZZA, DRINK ARIZONAS, PLAY VIDEOGAMES, JACK OFF, AND CRY, CRY A LOT. THEN AT LIKE ELEVEN AT NIGHT HE WOULD TELL ME "HE'S GONNA HANG OUT WITH HIS OLD DOCTOR FRIEND AT STARBUCKS" YEAH OKAY DAD SURE. I KNEW MY DAD HAD BEEN CHEATING ON MY MOM. I GUESS HE THOUGHT HE COULD JUST LEAVE MY MOM AND THEN GO OFF TO SOME OTHER LADY. BUT IT DIDN'T WORK OUT. THEN MY BEST FRIEND BECAME MY GIRLFRIEND. THEN MY PARENTS GOT BACK TOGETHER. MY GRADES WERE ALRIGHT. I WAS GOING TO THE GYM REGULARLY. EVERYTHING SEEMED OKAY. BUT THEN MY GIRLFRIEND AND I KEPT ARGUING AND SHE KEPT LYING AND I KEPT FALLING FOR IT AND FALLING FOR IT OVER AND OVER AGAIN AND I JUST KINDA WENT ALONG WITH IT. I CRIED A LOT. SHE MADE EVERYTHING WORSE. I STARTED DOING BAD IN MY CLASSES. EVENTUALLY I BROKE UP WITH HER CAUSE I COULDN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE. SHE THEN WENT AND TOLD A BUNCH OF PEOPLE THAT I CHEATED ON HER WITH SOME GIRL FROM TEXAS. THE GIRL IS REAL. THE STORY ISN'T. EVENTUALLY I DID FALL IN LOVE WITH THAT GIRL. I BECAME HER MANAGER CAUSE SHE WANTED TO BE A SINGER. THAT WAS THE FIRST TIME I COULD CONFIDENTLY SAY I WAS IN LOVE. SHE WAS A DREAM. PERFECT. SHE SANG ME SONGS AND WROTE ME POEMS. I WAS SO CRAZY ABOUT HER. IT WAS PERFECT. SHE WAS GONNA VISIT ME DURING SUMMER. THEN I FOUND OUT SHE WAS TALKING TO SOMEONE ELSE. THEN SHE KEPT FUCKING WITH MY FEELINGS. I BECAME FRIENDS WITH THE GIRL FROM FRESHMAN YEAR WHO USED ME. I TOLD HER I WANTED TO KILL MYSELF AND SHE IGNORED ME BECAUSE "SHE GOT BORED". THEN I LEFT THE GIRL I WAS IN LOVE WITH BECAUSE I COULDN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE. SHE CONTINUED TO TRY AND TALK TO ME. THEN SHE STARTED SOME FAKE RUMORS ABOUT ME BEING SEXIST AND RACIST. THEN A BUNCH OF PEOPLE HATED ME. SHE'S A TERRIBLE PERSON. I HOPE SHE IS OK. SHE'S BEEN THROUGH A LOT. THE SONGS OF THAT TIME KEEP REPLAYING IN MY HEAD, EATING AWAY AT THE INSIDE OF MY SKULL LIKE WAVES ERODING A MOUNTAIN. MY CHEST FEELS LIKE IT'S GONNA EXPLODE AND YELLOW PAINT IS GONNA SPLASH EVERYWHERE. THE COLOR YELLOW REMINDS ME OF HER. SKATING REMINDS ME OF HER. PLAYING INSTRUMENTS. WRITING. FLOWERS. MUSIC. EVERYTHING REMINDS ME OF HER. I TRIED TO MOVE ON. I STILL HAVEN'T COMPLETELY GOTTEN OVER IT. THEN I MET THIS OTHER GIRL. SHE WAS SO CUTE. SHE WAS WONDERFUL IT FELT SO NICE. SHE LIVED IN SACRAMENTO AND WAS SUPPOSED TO COME DOWN AND VISIT ME SOON. THEN I WENT TO EUROPE FOR THREE WEEKS. DURING THE FIRST WEEK OF BEING IN EUROPE THIS NEW GIRL GOT A BOYFRIEND. MY HEART HURT. I MET A REALLY COOL GIRL IN EUROPE. SHE WAS FROM LOS ANGELES AND WE CLICKED. WE WOULD TRY TO GET ALCOHOL EVERY  NIGHT AND GET SHITFACED. IT WAS SO FUN. ONE TIME IN SWITZERLAND I GOT REALLY DRUNK AND THREW UP AND CHIPPED MY TOOTH TRYING TO OPEN A BEER BOTTLE AND MR. BRUNNER SAW ME DRUNK BUT DIDN'T CARE. I LIKED HER AT FIRST BUT THEN WE JUST BECAME FRIENDS. THEN I TOLD HER ABOUT MY MENTAL ILLNESSES. I OPENED UP ABOUT ALL MY DEMONS. THAT WAS THE LAST TIME I EVER TALKED TO HER. SHE LEFT ME AND TOLD ME I'M TOO MUCH OF A RESPONSIBILITY. SHE SAID I'M "TROUBLED". THAT REALLY FUCKING HURT. THAT SAME NIGHT I MET A BEAUTIFUL GIRL FROM A GERMAN SCHOOL BUT SHE WAS THE ONLY AFRICAN GIRL THERE. WE SPENT ALL NIGHT HOLDING HANDS AND RUNNING AROUND. IT WAS SO SWEET AND DREAMLIKE. THEN I MET THIS OTHER GIRL TOWARDS THE END OF THE TRIP. WE HUNG OUT TOGETHER ALL THE TIME. SHE HAD JUST GRADUATED FROM THE SHITTY CATHOLIC SCHOOL THAT I GO TO RIGHT NOW. SHE THOUGHT I WAS SO COOL. I THOUGHT SHE WAS SO CUTE. WE GOT DRUNK ON THE BEACH OF ATHENS AND STEPPED ON SEA URCHINS. SHE ADMITTED SHE LIKED ME. SHE DIDN'T REMEMBER THAT THE NEXT MORNING THOUGH. THEN WE WENT ON A CRUISE IN THE GREEK ISLANDS. WE NAPPED TOGETHER A LOT. WE CUDDLED. WE GOT MANICURES TOGETHER AND GOT MATCHING NAIL POLISH. I WAS SO HAPPY. SHE DREW IN MY JOURNAL. ON THE LAST DAY, WE BOUGHT SOME CHEAP WINE AND WAITED UNTIL NIGHT. WE GOT SUPER DRUNK AND THEN WE GOT ON TOP OF EACH OTHER. "DON'T KISS ME UNTIL WE'RE SOBER" SHE SAID. I OBLIGED. SHE DIDN'T FOLLOW HER OWN RULES THOUGH. SHE KISSED ME. I KISSED HER BACK. I WAS HER FIRST KISS. WE MADE OUT. WE DID SOME OTHER STUFF. I TOOK HER TO HER ROOM. I SLEPT SMELLING HER SHIRT ALL NIGHT. I AM CRYING RIGHT NOW TYPING THIS. THEN WE SPENT THE WHOLE NEXT DAY TRAVELING BACK. SHIP. BUS. PLANE. THE FIRST PLANE RIDE WAS BEAUTIFUL. WE SAT TOGETHER AND KISSED AND CUDDLED. IT WAS TEN HOURS BUT FELT LIKE ONE. THE NEXT  PLANE WAS SHIT. MY STOMACH HURT AND I DIDN'T SIT WITH HER. THEN MY PARENTS PICKED ME UP FROM THE AIRPORT. I SAID GOODBYE TO HER. THEN AT HOME MY PARENTS YELLED AT ME AND TOLD ME IM A DISGRACE FOR PAINTING MY NAILS AND THAT I DON'T DESERVE ANYTHING BUT THE BARE MINIMUM AND THAT THEY ARE ASHAMED OF ME AND THAT IT INFURIATES THEM THAT I CAN'T JUST BE LIKE EVERYONE ELSE. I STAYED DATING THAT GIRL. WE HUNG OUT A COUPLE TIMES. SHE EVENTUALLY BECAME VERY MANIPULATIVE AND EMOTIONALLY ABUSIVE. I LEFT HER. THEN I WAS SINGLE FOR A BIT. THEN OF COURSE I STARTED DATING SOMEONE ELSE. MY CURRENT GIRLFRIEND. I LOVE HER! SHE ISN'T ABUSIVE LIKE EVERYONE ELSE! SHE'S GREAT. SHE IS PERFECT SO FAR. BUT SHE HAS HER OWN TROUBLES AND I FEEL BAD CAUSE I CAN'T HELP HER. REWIND TO A FEW WEEKS AFTER I GOT BACK FROM THE EUROPE TRIP. JUNIOR YEAR STARTED. I WAS FAIRLY CONFIDENT. THEN EVERYTHING WENT DOWNHILL. REALLY FAST. I STARTED FAILING. I BECAME MORE AND MORE DEPRESSED. I HATED MYSELF AND EVERYONE AROUND ME. I TOLD MY PARENTS I'M DEPRESSED. THEY DIDN'T CARE. I TOLD THEM AGAIN. THEY DIDN'T CARE. I TOLD THEM ONE MORE TIME. THE DIDN'T CARE AT ENOUGH. I STARTED SMOKING WEED. A LOT OF IT. CONSTANTLY. I LOVED IT. WEED IS GREAT, BUT IT BECAME A DEPENDENCY. THEN ONE DAY I HAD A BREAKDOWN AT SCHOOL AND I WENT TO MY TEACHER BECAUSE I WOULD'VE KILLED MYSELF IF I DIDN'T. SHE TOLD ME SOME KIND WORDS THEN CALLED MY MOM. MY MOM CAME. WE WENT TO AN OFFICE AND DISCUSSED SOME STUFF ABOUT SCHOOL AND DEPRESSION WITH THIS ONE GUY AND THIS ONE REALLY NICE BUT ANNOYING WHITE LADY. MY DAD CAME. I FELT BETTER. I WENT HOME. THEN MY PARENTS YELLED AT ME AND WE GOT IN A HUGE UGLY ARGUMENT. THEY GOT MAD AT ME FOR SEEKING HELP.

"THEY DON'T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT YOU AT SCHOOL! THAT'S WHAT WE'RE HERE FOR."

"BUT DAD, IT'S NOT EASY TELLING YOUR PARENTS THAT YOU WANNA KILL YOURSELF."

"YOU EMBARASSED US, YOU HURT OUR FEELINGS."

"DAD I WANNA DIE PLEASE I NEED HELP."

"FUCK YOU! YOU'RE SELFISH AND YOU DON'T LOVE US!"

THE WHITE LADY TOLD MY PARENTS THAT I NEED A PAPER FROM A PSYCHOLOGIST SAYING THAT I WON'T HURT MYSELF OR OTHERS TO BE ABLE TO ATTEND SCHOOL AGAIN. THEN THE NEXT DAY MY PARENTS DID A RANDOM DRUG TEST ON ME. THEN THAT NIGHT THEY CONFRONTED ME ABOUT IT BECAUSE THEY SAW THAT I HAD BEEN CONSUMING WEED. THEY ARE OLD AND UNEDUCATED ON IT SO THEY THINK IT'S LIKE METH. THAT MADE THE WHOLE THING VERY DIFFICULT. THEN I BROKE DOWN AGAIN. I STARTED TELLING THEM HOW BAD I WANTED TO DIE. THEN MY DAD HELD ME AND TOLD ME HE LOVED ME. A VOICE IN MY HEAD TOLD ME NOT TO BELIEVE HIM. I COMPLIED. THE NEXT DAY MY SISTERS CAME TO THE HOUSE. THEY ALL TALKED TO ME AND TOLD ME THAT I DIDN'T HAVE TO GO BACK TO SCHOOL IF I WASN'T READY. THEY KEPT DEMONIZING MEDICATION TO SCARE ME BECAUSE THEY REFUSE TO GIVE ME THE MEDICATION I SO DESPERATELY HAVE BEEN NEEDING FOR THE PAST FOUR YEARS. THEY KEPT ME PRISONER AT HOME. THEY FORCED ME TO JOIN A BOXING CLUB. THEY TOOK AWAY MY PRIVILEDGES. THEN THE SCHOOL CALLED AND SAID I HAD TO GO BACK. I GOT A NOTE. THEY DECLINED IT. I GOT ANOTHER NOTE. THEY DECLINED THAT ONE TOO. THEN I GOT ANOTHER ONE AND I'M BACK IN SCHOOL. I HATE IT. I'M SWITCHING SCHOOLS NEXT SEMESTER. BUT I NEED TO TRY AND RAISE MY GRADES FOR NOW. I AM NOT CURRENTLY SUICIDAL. BUT I AM SAD. VERY SAD. STILL DEPRESSED (OBVIOUSLY).

[gossipnetwork-blog]

March of the Juggalos: Inside the Faygo-Soaked D.C. Protest

New Post has been published on http://gossip.network/march-of-the-juggalos-inside-the-faygo-soaked-d-c-protest/

March of the Juggalos: Inside the Faygo-Soaked D.C. Protest

Without Insane Clown Posse and their fan base, the Juggalos, Moon Brown would probably be dead. So a 16-hour bus ride from Detroit wasn’t going to stop Brown from seeing ICP for the first time at Saturday’s Juggalo March on Washington. Brown, 25, wearing a brown felt hat, black pants held up by a Grateful Dead belt and shirtless with a black leather vest, came to D.C. on Friday with a few bucks in his pocket, and he slept the night before the march behind the Lincoln Memorial. Carrying an aqua knapsack that he’s had since his days hitchhiking across America, he wanted to be only a few steps away from the stage for the event, excited about the prospect of seeing so many others who are like him.

Brown is skin and bones, with his black, white and red face paint that he had applied a day before beginning to wear off. With a wild brown beard, locks of long, wispy hair and a green half-crescent moon tattooed on the middle of his forehead, Brown, whose name is a pseudonym, has never been big on going to ICP shows or attending a Gathering of the Juggalos, the subculture’s annual music festival. But he credits the horrorcore rap duo of Violent J and Shaggy 2 Dope, and Juggalos in general, for a support system that eluded him – and had him contemplating taking his own life a decade earlier.

“ICP built a family for those who didn’t have one,” Brown says. “Maybe they didn’t realize what they were doing, but they did something great, and I have the appreciation and love for that.” He adds: “If they’re going to call us out to be at the March, then I owe them.”

This feels different than your regular ICP show or Gathering. Sure, about 1,500 people are passing around liters of Faygo, smoking cigarettes like they’re going out of style, and yelling their fraternal call – “Whoop! Whoop!” – at anyone who passes by. Men walk around in Jason and lucha libre wrestling masks, women are in schoolgirl outfits and toddlers are in face-paint and ICP T-shirts. It attracts all ages, from the older man in the wheelchair to the little girl with curly brown hair holding a face-painted doll’s head on a stick. But Gatherings don’t happen at the National Mall, and they certainly don’t have the political feeling this one does. You see signs of the day: “Juggalo Lives Matter.” “Don’t Shoot/I’m Just a Music Fan With a Really Big Family.” “FBI: Foolish Bunch of Inbreds.” “The FBI Listens to Nickelback.”

Since 2011, the Juggalos have been branded by the FBI’s National Gang Threat Assessment as “a loosely-organized hybrid gang” in four states – Arizona, California, Pennsylvania and Utah. The report, which was collected from data submitted by state and local law enforcement agencies nationwide, recognized that subsets exhibited “gang-like behavior and engage in criminal activity and violence” in at least 21 states. In 2014, ICP, represented by the American Civil Liberties Union, sued the FBI. Though the initial suit was dismissed for lacking “legal standing,” an appeals court reinstated the case in 2015, on the basis that the gang designation has brought significant harm to Juggalos. (Oral arguments on the appeal are set to begin October 11th.) “You might not give a fuck about ICP, but how are you not going to give a fuck about the situation that’s going on?” Shaggy says.

Whether you sip the Faygo or remember ridiculing the kid in high school who wanted to wear a Hatchetman shirt, one thing about this case has united people: The move to designate ICP’s fan base as a gang is unprecedented. Never before has the U.S. government targeted a fan base of an artist or music genre, and labeled anyone associated with it, as part of an organized gang. Though the Juggalos were not specifically named in the FBI’s 2013 or 2015 National Gang Reports, the gang label is the stain they can’t remove. That’s why they’re marching.

“You now have people examining the issue and understanding how wrong it was,” says Steve Miller, author of Juggalo: Insane Clown Posse and the World They Made, on the gang classification. “That was the problem before – you didn’t have people seriously taking a look at this as a true First Amendment legal issue.”

Antifa members join Juggalos in their march. Rosie Cohe

Off in the distance is the Mother of All Rallies, a relatively small demonstration in support of President Donald Trump. Despite the online clamoring for the face-painted Juggalos to confront and pummel the crowd, the gathering’s focus is civil, focused and disciplined. Antifa make their presence known in case there is a problem with the pro-Trumpers, but they remain off to the side, not impeding on the Juggalos or the event. Most Juggalos tell me that this day isn’t about the red hat-wearing assholes over there. It’s about them. It’s about their rights. It’s about the future of an American subculture that, in their eyes, has been unfairly labeled by the federal government and affected their lives for the worse.

One by one, Juggalos of all kinds – military veterans, registered nurses, fast-food cooks, government employees – step up to tell their stories to this family of misfits and outcasts. Despite never receiving a negative work review, Jessica Bonometti says she was fired from her job as a Virginia probation officer last year for showing appreciation on Facebook for ICP. Because she saw an ICP show, Crystal Guerrero says she lost a custody battle for her two children in New Mexico, now only seeing them six hours a week. Ashley Vasquez recalls instances in which she was almost kicked out of the military for her tattoos and wearing clothes supporting ICP’s music.

“That’s the biggest misconception about people outside looking in, thinking that Juggalos are just a piece of shit, inbred, uneducated fuckheads, you know what I’m saying?” Shaggy tells me. “It’s the furthest from the truth.”

Talk to some Juggalos on this steamy September day at the nation’s capital and they’ll rattle off about every insult thrown at them for the last 20 years. Losers. Freaks. White trash. Rednecks. Meth addicts. Mistakes. Criminals. They’ve grown numb to the barbs, largely ignoring the constant ridicule that’s followed the marginalized fan-base. But one hurts more than any other: Gang member.

“What happened to us never happened to any band in the history of rock and roll that I know of,” J tells Rolling Stone. “Nothing like it.”

He adds: “You wanna call us something, call us a family, because a lot of us don’t have a family and all we’ve got is each other. This shit is real for us, man.”

ICP’s Shaggy 2 Dope and Violent J visited Rolling Stone to discuss the march.

Like almost every Juggalo I spoke to about their life growing up, Brown’s childhood was pretty shitty. Living in the Florida panhandle, his drug-abusive parents caused Brown to run away from group homes and bounce around the foster care system in Pensacola until he was around nine. On the steps at the base of the Lincoln Memorial, Brown refers back to the time he had to pull a needle out of his mom’s arm, and how his dad sold crack and forced him to smoke weed when he was four. Time and time again, foster parents would take him in, only to make it clear they really didn’t want him and that they only took him to not separate him from his sister. The last pair of parents, he says, constantly punished him, forcing him to run away again when he was 12.

It was around this time that he found an MP3 player on a school bus. When he popped in headphones and hit play, he listened to a few songs from ICP. He was hooked. But even with his newfound love couldn’t shield him from what was happening at home. He says that shortly after his foster family dropped him off with his biological parents, he was left to fend for himself. Between the ages of 14 and 18, Brown was homeless, living on the streets. “Homeless at 14 is not a good way to be in Pensacola,” he tells me. During that time, he says he was taken in by a few different families of Juggalos in the area for stretches. When he was 15, Brown was told by a friend what he already knew deep down: He was a Juggalo.

“Meeting the Juggalos and hanging out with them, I saw how people had each other’s backs, just this blunt, honest attitude,” Brown tells me. “It was real. That gave me something to lean toward.”

Brown remembers the first ass-kicking he got for being a Juggalo. When he heard the “Whoop! Whoop!” call at a party, he instinctively responded with one of his own. But these 20-somethings he was partying with were instead talking trash about Juggalo culture. Quick to fight, Brown, then 15 or 16, says he was repeatedly kicked in the stomach, with the anti-Juggalo group furiously stomping on his head. By the time they were done with him, Brown left with a bloody nose, a ripped shirt and a reminder of how people simply enjoy picking on Juggalos.

A juggalo getting their face paint done on site. Rosie Cohe

“People don’t get us,” he tells me.

Brown’s journey to Washington hasn’t been without its setbacks. When he was 17, he says he was given nine months in a low-risk juvenile program for improper display of a firearm at school when he unknowingly had a gun in his backpack. And trouble would find him again. Not long after the firearm incident, Brown and a buddy would walk up and down Michigan Avenue in Montclair, what Brown calls the ghetto of Pensacola, in hope of selling drugs to the area’s residential junkies. When he was apprehended for resisting arrest after tripping a cop around 2011, police found a custom knife he found in a gutter in his waistband.

The possession of a concealed weapon charge got him 14 months in jail. When he was getting booked, he says police saw his tattoos and asked him if he was a Juggalo. He says he confirmed he was, and saw the official at the jail mark down that he was a gang member. Brown says he didn’t care about the label at the time and that he hasn’t let it impact him since then, but one thought has stayed on his mind: What the fuck?

Sitting inside a studio at the Rolling Stone office days before the Juggalo March, J and Shaggy say they knew a while ago they had to do something.

Initially, they joked that the FBI’s gang classification of their fan base was yet another reason why they proudly own the title of “most hated band in the world.” But the group’s outlook would take a sharp turn from glee to despair. When they’d hit the road for meet-and-greets and in-store signings across the country, they found that the FBI’s gang label had real-life consequences for Juggalos: Longer terms in jail for offenders. Parents losing kids in custody battles. People getting fired from their jobs. Potential recruits not being able to get into the military. And on and on.

Even with the increased attention on their cause, the duo say that it’s hard to do those meetups with fans nowadays, as the stories they keep hearing from loyal Juggalos affected by the gang label are heartbreaking. Yes, there are probably a few fans who are gang members, but, they argue, why isn’t that same flimsy standard of blanketing an entire group applied to people in gangs who like other artists?

“There’s fucking Bonnie Raitt fans that are in gangs,” J says.

While they downplay the effect the gang label has had on them and keep the focus on their fans, it has impacted their ability to earn, specifically from the venues that are skeptical of booking them because of the Juggalo designation.

“The more that spreads, the harder this shit is getting, and fuck, man, where does it end?” J says.

When reached by Rolling Stone for comment, the FBI reiterated to that the 2011 report was “compromised of information shared with the National Gang Intelligence Center and the FBI from law enforcement agencies around the country.”

“The FBI’s mission is to protect the American people and uphold the Constitution. We investigate activity which may constitute a federal crime or pose a threat to national security,” an FBI spokesperson said in a statement. “The FBI cannot initiate an investigation based on an individual’s exercise of their First Amendment rights.”

The duo knows that getting the FBI to rescind the label, or at least acknowledge the matter, is a pipe dream. Shaggy says he knows already that’ll never happen. That’s why ICP became the latest in a decorated history of political demonstrations in front of the Lincoln Memorial.

“Whether [the FBI] want to admit it or not,” Shaggy says, “they fucked up.”

By 3 p.m., the chanting, laughter and clouds of cigarette smoke have made this a full-blown party. This might not be a Gathering of the Juggalos, but it’s a celebration of the culture and the people who make it possible. There’s Richard and Stephanie Miller, a couple from New Castle, Delaware, that’s helped organize a Juggalo carpool system, coordinating rides for people from as far as California and Washington State. There’s Amanda Donihoo, whose husband, Scott, otherwise known as Scottie D., president of Faygoluvers.net, gives an impassioned speech of his life for the Juggalos that mentions how him and his wife, an IT professional and a registered nurse in the Dallas-Fort Worth Metroplex, respectively, reflect how the group is pigeonholed and criminalized because of the actions of a few.

“We are some of the most straight-laced people ever,” says Amanda Donihoo, 35. “But since we don’t always wear the attire you expect or perceive a Juggalo would wear, people don’t understand.”

Juggalo marchers in face paint holding a sign saying “Juggalo’s are a family not a gang. Those who think otherwise [middle finger]”. Rosie Cohe

ICP has no plans to make this an annual event, so the Juggalos are making the most out of the day.

Hannah Baxter drove seven hours from New York state to be at the March. Baxter, 27, has been to roughly 50 ICP shows and two Gatherings, but it’s hard for the former group-home kid to describe what she’s feeling while looking at the Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool.

“This is the first time we’re actually banding together as a family to show everybody that we’re not as bad as they think we are,” she says. “Just ’cause we like people that rap about something a little crazy, we’re normal people, too.”

By the time ICP take the stage around 5 p.m., the Juggalos are hanging on their every word. While they speak on stage, two Juggalettes yell at a guy with a camera wearing a backwards “Make America Great Again” hat, telling him he’d get his ass beat by a family of a thousand clowns if he didn’t leave now. He says, “Fuck you, bitch,” and flees. Aside from that, this moment is festive and positive.

“This is our day! This is our year! Are you ready?” J asks the jubilant Juggalos. “The Juggalo family and the Wicked Clowns will never die. Let’s march, motherfuckers!”

ICP is at the beginning of the procession, looking almost overwhelmed by the love of the unlikeliest of families. It’s from this love that they push forward to lift the Juggalos’ gang label.

“It’s scary because this ain’t a movie,” J tells me. “This ain’t something anybody’s been through. And you don’t know how this is going to end.”

Brown’s March starts, and ends, with him walking through the crowd, carrying his third clear trash bag of the day. In an effort to help turn around the perception some may hold toward Juggalos, Brown, who works with prototype car parts for Chevy and Ford back in Michigan, packed some garbage bags and vowed to clean up the trash left behind on the Mall. It’s his way of giving back to a subculture that’s given him so much. At the back end of the March around the outside of the Washington Monument, there isn’t a piece of trash that Brown doesn’t pick up. He’s in D.C. for the next few days before heading back to Michigan, unsure of what’s next or where he’ll spend the night. For now, he’s bottling up the energy and the positive feelings of the day the Juggalos took Washington, a day he met more extended members of his family.

“That was epic,” he tells me, flashing his biggest smile of the day. He then darts to every piece of trash in his path, saying to anyone who will listen at the tail of the March: “Throw your garbage away! Give me your trash!”

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[chelsorz07]

ooh yaaas 100 questions. please don’t unfollow me for posting a million of these tonight

Are you young at heart, or an old soul? Both I guess? Like the activities I enjoy are what most people my age would consider boring, but I’m not mature enough to take care of myself.

What makes someone a best friend? Someone who doesn’t abandon you no matter how busy you both get or how far apart you are, who makes you laugh, who you can do absolutely nothing with and still have a good time, who you can talk to about anything without judgement or having your feelings invalidated, and ideally someone with the same or similar taste in music so you can jam the fuck out in the car together.

What Christmas (or Hanukkah) present do you remember the most? My first guitar when I was 14.

Tell me about a movie/song/tv show/play/book that has changed your life. Supernatural has changed my life by consuming it.

Name one physical feature that you like about yourself, and one you dislike. I like my face and hate just about everything else. Psoriasis makes my skin terrible and my body hurt everywhere all the time, my hair never cooperates, I can’t lose weight, and my boobs are too big so they hurt as well. I suppose my nails are kinda pretty. At least as far as shape. Underneath they look terrible, also because of the psoriasis, but I always have them painted.

Would you like to reconnect with any friends you’ve lost contact with? The friends I’m still in contact with are the only ones I need. Shouts out to @amandavanhalen​ and @sloan28allday​

What’s more important in a relationship: physical attraction or emotional connection? I mean, both.

Name a movie that you knew would be terrible just from reading the title. Oh jeez...um...Mean Girls 2? Because nothing could ever be as good as the original.

What holiday do you most look forward to? Fourth of July. Except this year I did absolutely nothing because I’m stuck here all alone and have no money.

How is the relationship between you and your parents? Dad: used to be horrible but now is good and I really miss him and he’s one of the main reasons I want to move home. Mom: used to be good as long as we swept all our issues under the rug, then got really bad because I refused to do that anymore, and now is getting a little better because we’ve had so much distance between us for two years and haven’t been able to be at each other’s throats all the time.

You’ve got the TV on, but you’re not really watching. What channel is the TV on? The Netflix home screen.

Name a song that never fails to make you happy. The Jock Jams Mega Mix. Don’t judge me.

You know at least one person named Michael. Tell me about him. He’s my best friend in the entire world. 

Have you ever read the “missed connections” on Craigslist? Have you ever posted one, or wanted to? I don’t get on Craigslist because where I lived wasn’t even listed under the cities. We have Pennswoods Classifieds.

If you could pick anywhere to live the rest of your life, where would it be? Bradford. Unless I could pack my family and friends up and take them to Nashville with me.

Can money buy happiness? Yes. Not that material things equal happiness. But money would definitely buy me a house in Bradford so I could be with the people I love.

Do you drink? Smoke? Do drugs? Why, or why not? Used to drink, don’t anymore because I either get so smashed that I puke and cry and pass out or have half a beer and want to take a nap. Smoke at least a pack a day. Have smoked weed and done a few different types of pills, but they also just made me sleepy so I don’t see the point.

Is there anyone close to you that you know you can’t trust? You don’t have to give names. I don’t really fully trust anyone but my dad.

Where was your favorite place to go when you were a little kid? The Erie County Fair. It was like a big deal okay?

Have you ever spent a night in the hospital? Once. Got my tonsils out when I was 10. But everything else I’ve gone for has been same day.

Do you enjoy being with only one or two friends, or with a large group of people? One or two. 

Do you like the type of music your parents listen to? Do your parents like the type of music you listen to? My parents like country and so do I because I was raised on it, but my musical tastes extend far beyond that and theirs don’t. My dad likes some classic rock too but my mom doesn’t.

Have you ever been bullied? Have you ever bullied anyone else? Yes and yes.

If you could only eat one thing for the rest of your life, what would it be? Pizza.

If your partner wanted to wait until marriage before having sex, would you stay in that relationship? I’ve been married for two years and haven’t had sex since February (not my choice, he’s just uninterested) so I think I can live without it. I’d rather do it myself anyway. It’s faster, less gross, less weird, less painful, and I know I’ll have an orgasm every time.

Do you believe in a god? No. I’m a Satanist, which means I believe in self-indulgence, not that I worship the devil. Since most people are fucking uneducated sheep who seem to think that’s what it is.

Of all the social networks in the world, why use Tumblr? Because I know everyone I follow has the same interests as me and won’t think I’m crazy because of my passion for those interests.

What’s your favorite Tumblr tag to track? I don’t track tags, I just follow pages with content that I like.

Would you call yourself/your family “middle class?” Lower middle class.

Name a TV series you didn’t enjoy until after it ended. I just watched Parks and Rec in its entirety this week and I fucking love it.

Have you ever bought a product from an infomercial? Dave bought me my last guitar off of HSN.

If you could give up your car and never have to drive again, would you? I’d stop driving but I don’t think I’d give up my car because it’s freaking AWESOME, I’d just hire someone to drive it for me.

If you go back to one point in time to give advice to yourself, when would you go and what would you say? I’d go back to 2015 and say “Get married in a fucking courthouse because marriage is cool but weddings are terrible.”

What’s your “quirkiest” habit? I don’t know if this counts as quirky but if I like a movie or tv show I can memorize the entire thing after watching it twice.

What is “normal?” Are you normal? There’s no such thing.

Someone close to you is dying. You have the choice to let this person live for 10 more years, but if you do, you cause the death of 10 strangers. You don’t have to see them die. Do you take the offer? Of course. I don’t care about strangers, only people in my life. Don’t give a shit if that makes me a horrible person.

What is one thing you could never forgive? It’s not a matter of forgiving anymore, I just stop caring. Like you’ve fucked me over, you’re gonna continue to fuck me over, I’m not even surprised.

Would you rather be in a relationship after the honeymoon period ends, or be single? My relationship never had a honeymoon period and I’m still in it after eight years so.

Is it possible for guys and girls to be just friends? Yes.

Where do you and your friends go to hang out? We don’t because they live too far away.

Write the first paragraph of your obituary. I don’t want an obituary. Or a funeral. Just burn me and cast me into the wind.

What is the best TV theme song ever? The Friends theme, OBVS. But the Buffy theme is my jam too. Shouts out to Nerf Herder.

When you were young, what would you dream you would be when you grew up? A musician.

When you’re alone in your own home, do you walk around naked? Only from the bathroom to my bedroom. Which is literally two steps.

What gets you out of bed in the morning? The urge to pee. And it’s not so much “in the morning” as it is “every motherfucking hour of the day”.

Do you want to have more friends than you have right now? Nope. Two is good.

What part of the past year sticks out in your mind? Realizing how badly I want to move back to PA.

You win a scratch-off lottery game that gives you $2000 a week (after taxes) for the rest of your life. Do you keep your job? I’d probably work somewhere just so I didn’t get bored.

Could you be in a long-distance relationship? If you’re in one, what makes yours work? I’ve been in a straight-up long distance one before and it didn’t work. Dave and I are sorta long distance because he’s out of town for work for two weeks at a time, then home for six days before it starts all over again. And honestly I think the time apart is WHY we work. Because if I had to spend every moment of every day with him, someone would get their throat cut.

What’s the best route to your heart? Don’t treat me like shit. It’s really not that hard. Or maybe it is, idk.

Have you ever met someone through the internet, then met them in real life? No.

What is your favorite sport? Football.

What has been troubling you lately? Not having a job. I just got one though. I’m excited because the people seem cool and it’s at a store I love so helllll yeah 20% discount.

Did you enjoy your high school prom? If you haven’t gotten there yet, do you look forward to it? If you didn’t go, why not? I did not go. Because I was hanging out in a cemetery with friends and that was more fun.

What do you use more often: your intuition or logical reasoning? I try to avoid problems at all costs but if I actually have to solve one I’m usually more logical.

Do you know what makes you happy? Escaping reality.

Tell me about the last book you read. I don’t even know what it was.

What is the nicest compliment you’ve ever been given? Couldn’t tell ya. I don’t get a lot of them.

Who was your first crush? Celeb: Luke Perry. IRL: Charlie Burns. I’ve mentioned this before. He’s still hot.

Do you believe that there is life on other planets? Don’t care.

Predict what your life will look like a year from now. Hopefully my address will be in Pennsylvania instead of Ohio.

Often, people will ask how your last relationship ended. I want to know how it began. His ex was a crazy, lying, abusive bitch and he only got away from her after we graduated because she was a year behind us, so we started talking online and then texting and just decided we were in a relationship but it was doomed from the beginning.

Where is your favorite place to go out and eat? Renna’s Pizza, oh how I miss you.

What is something you want to change about your current situation? My address, my health, my weight, my bank account, and the fact that I am almost 28 and childless. So yeah pretty much everything. Oh, I also want it to be October because I’m tired of waiting for SPN and TWD.

Early bird or night owl? Night.

Are there any childhood possessions you still hold on to? Lots.

Give me an unpopular opinion you have. I don’t like Game of Thrones. Really wanted to, I just thought it was boring.

What was the last song that was stuck in your head? Weightless - All Time Low.

Where do you live? Be as general or specific as you want. Dover, Ohio. I know I complain about it a lot but it really is a lovely city. There’s tons of things to do and places to eat. Certainly a lot more places to find a job. I just want to go home where my family and friends are.

Do you believe in giving kids medals and trophies for participation? FUCK. NO. This is the only generation where you don’t have to earn your accolades and it turns kids into giant wimps, sore losers, and even worse, sore winners. Drives me up a wall.

What was the longest car ride you’ve ever taken? Took us about 12 hours to get to Cumming, GA because idk if you’ve ever driven through the Smoky Mountains but holy BALLS are those roads scary.

Have you ever taken part in a protest? I protest things all the time. Just not in public with people because I don’t like public or people.

Would you ever use an online dating service? I signed up for a few back in the day but never actually met or even talked to anyone I was matched with.

What is your ethnic heritage? White. Mostly Irish/English.

Describe a person that inspires you. Not necessarily specific people, just musicians. Music is my heart and soul and I wish I had half the talent or drive that any of them do.

If you earn minimum wage doing what you love, would you? I mean yeah any money is good money at this point.

Do you believe in luck? No.

Describe the last time you were very angry at someone. I’m sure it wasn’t that long ago, and I’m also sure I was more angry than the situation warranted, but I really can’t remember right now.

Do you want to live until you’re 100? Hell no I don’t even want to live till I’m 70.

Do people change? If so, how do you keep a relationship together when both of you start to change? People change on a daily basis. And if you’re in a relationship, you’re either gonna change and grow with each other, or you’re gonna grow apart. Or fall apart. There’s nothing you can do about it. 

Have you ever risked a friendship by telling someone you liked them? Every guy I’ve ever been with or liked was my friend first, so there’s always that risk. Usually it doesn’t turn out as bad as you thought. I mean, Mike and I were friends, then together, then on and off throughout several years, then didn’t speak for a long time, then almost got back together, then didn’t speak again and now we’re best friends. Shit just happens that way. Onnnn the other hand, there’s a girl I like but I can’t tell her because she’s got a boyfriend and I’ve got a husband and I probably won’t even be living here a year from now so it’d be pointless anyway. But she’s a lovely person and doesn’t annoy me like most super-chipper people do so I’m glad to be her friend. 

Would you rather be alone doing something you enjoy, or doing something you don’t like with your best friends? If I don’t like the activity I’ll probably just be surly and ruin everyone else’s good time, and I don’t want my best friends pissed off at me for that, so I’ll say doing something I enjoy alone.

Do you practice what you preach? I don’t really preach anything. Or practice anything. Look man, I literally just sit on my couch watching Netflix and playing Words With Friends on my phone. I’m not that complex of a person.

If you take precautions to stay safe, do you ultimately act more recklessly? I try my absolute hardest to avoid any situation that could potentially be dangerous. 

What do you value more in a significant other: Attractiveness or intelligence? Intelligence.

Are you hard-headed? You betcha. Not complaining. Thanks dad.

Have you ever laughed uncontrollably when it was socially inappropriate? I think that’s when I laugh the most.

When have you felt most alive? Any time I’m at a concert.

Would you prefer to live? A city? The suburbs? The countryside? The mountains? Suburbs but of a small town.

Do you often skip breakfast? I don’t have legit meals. I just eat whatever when I’m hungry.

How do you know what true love is? You don’t. Nothing is ever that straightforward. It’s just trial and error.

Would you want to know the exact date and time you were going to die? No, I’d like to decide.

Where is “home” for you? Bradford.

What song best describes your life right now? Weightless. It’s described my life since the first time I heard it eight years ago.

Do you want to be perfect? Again, no such thing.

What have you never tried, but would really like to someday? What’s holding you back? I want to go to the motherland (Ireland) and Greece, but it’s expensive, I don’t fly, don’t have a passport, and am scared of other countries.

How do you express your creativity? Music, art, makeup, and the way I dress. Which is literally just band t-shirts and flannels. So also music.

Describe your neighborhood. Decently clean, lots of duplexes, a couple weird neighbors but nothing scary, some old people, and there’s an elementary or middle school (not sure which) one block over so it gets kinda noisy and the street is busy when it’s not summer.

Name something you only liked because it was popular. I’ve never liked anything based on popularity. I just like what I like. And usually it’s not popular at all. At least not where I’m from.

Give me the story of your life in six words. I don’t know what I’m doing.

[thediabeticslut]

Basic Bro | Sorry Sir, I’m Afraid You’ll Have to Pay the Extra Baggage Fee

dates: 🍦🍦🍦🍦 sex: n/a awkward diabetes moment? yes (date rating guide here) choice quote: “I don’t want to be getting hard at a hot dog place.”

Oh, Basic Bro. So sweet, so charming, and such a damn child. We hung out two days in a row. He’d messaged me asking to work on a class project together, which I thought was a pretense for hooking up again, but it turned out not to be. And honestly, thank god for that, because I’d totally forgotten the damn thing was due! He bought us pizza and we went to my apartment to work on it. After about an hour, he suggested taking a break and smoking weed. I wasn’t too worried about the work, so I agreed, though I did kind of wonder whether he this would impede him in being able to get his assignment done. Nevertheless, I was selfish and chose the possibility of hooking up over helping this poor boy get good grades. We ended up smoking quite a bit and out of the blue, he launched into his life story, telling me all about his insecurities and other emotional issues. He talked and talked, which was honestly quite tiring for me to hear, especially since he doesn’t always articulate his thoughts in a super clear way. But it was fascinating, too. He told me about his lacking confidence, how that now he’s grown up (well, somewhat...) he doesn’t get any affirmation for playing sports or being popular at school. He feels lonely. He feels like his parents don’t care about him. He was always a happy-go-lucky kid but developed anxiety after a bad breakup in high school, and it’s still really affecting him now. He feels stupid and hates himself for lacking motivation. He doesn’t know what he’s doing with his life. He wishes he had a mentor, someone to guide him through this. I was in shock. All I could say is that, well, I have a bit more life experience, and you won’t ever find that total guidance that you’re looking for. Eventually you learn to get through it and not resent the fact that you weren’t taken care of perfectly. Only you have the power to really change things for yourself. And it’s okay to feel lost, you will find out what direction your life is headed with time. I really felt for him. I still do, I’m still thinking about it. But I also didn’t want to be in that role. I was just waiting for him to shut up and kiss me or something, you know? But eventually we started talking about relationships. How he feels like sometimes you meet someone perfect, and it’s just the wrong place and the wrong time. Or does that perfect person even really exist? He recently broke up with his girlfriend, but they still love each other. It was just because of certain circumstances. He asked if I minded that he was talking about this, because he didn’t want to make me feel weird or insecure. I told him that no, it’s fine. “I don’t know what your expectations are,” he said. “I mean, I’m not looking for a relationship. I just want to hang out, and like... have fun.” “Okay, good, I’m glad.” He had to catch the last train out and we didn’t end up hooking up. I was confused. But once he left, I realized that, based on a few nonverbal cues, he may have been meaning to say, “I hope you’re not expecting to hook up tonight.” And when I said I just wanted to hang out, he probably took that literally and thought we were on the same page. The next day, though, brought that into question... We were let out of class early and went to get hot dogs. I’d forgotten to take my insulin to school so we had to stop back at my apartment, and I told him I was diabetic. He told me about how he watched the show Jonas growing up (ouch, that slight generational difference!) and he and his friend fantasized about giving Nick Jonas, who also has T1D, a ton of sugary food so they could kill him and get his on-screen girlfriend. I didn’t know what to make of that, but I did tell him that insulin would probably be the more deadly choice. Over our food, he told me more of his life story, and it was the same situation - interesting, but it really dragged on, and I didn’t get to talk much. I learned that he has a pretty tumultuous home life, that his family relationships are really complex and dramatic. He talked more about his ex, too. That he loves her, but she’s in a bad place, hanging out with bad people, and prioritizing them over him. She struggles with anxiety and he feels like he has to help her with that, but sometimes he can’t do enough. She’s been suicidal, and he helped get her in a better place, but he just found out she’s been self-harming. She has an unstable home life and for a while, his family took her in. Now she’s back with her parents and her dad doesn’t want them dating, he thinks there should be a clean break. His parents don’t like her. They still see each other, though. In fact, they’d made plans to hang out that night. It’s complicated, you know. I don’t like like him, I don’t want to date him. And it’s clear he’s not really stable, either. But hearing about all of this was very endearing, and made me like him a lot more as a person. From what I gathered during our conversation, he’s not sure whether they’re going to fully break up and stop seeing each other, or eventually get back together. They’re kind of at a crossroads. He’s not actively looking for anyone else to see, he said, with the implication of, “but, there’s you...” I still wasn’t totally sure how he felt about hooking up again, since his relationship seems to be in flux, but he said they really are broken up now. I don’t think he’s told her about anything we’ve done, though. We didn’t hook up that day, but in the last half hour or so before he left to have dinner with her (awk), we talked about sex. Kind of generally, for the most part, since it stemmed from talking about race, and Asian male stereotypes. Some runner-ups for choice quotes, “For like 5 minutes I thought about becoming a pornstar, just to show people that it’s not true! I’d help little Asian boys everywhere! No, I shouldn’t say that, that came out wrong!” “If I have a son, I’m gonna be like, ‘Hey, don’t worry about it, your daddy’s got a...’” We talked in kind of coded language, since we were in public, but the only people in the hot dog place were some old dude and the cashier. We talked about STDs, a topic about which I learned he is worryingly uneducated, his past experiences, my past experiences, the fact that he couldn’t keep it up with a condom last time... I joked about the fact that he was speaking so euphemistically, that I usually speak in pretty explicit terms, and he said, “Yeah, I mean, I love talking about sex, but when I talk that way, it kind of... turns me on. I don’t want to be getting hard at a hot dog place.” I walked him to the subway station. You could cut the sexual tension with a knife. We didn’t hug and our goodbye was awkward. With that, he left.