#well ive been on three dates and we seem to be compatible and also real estate prices in my city are insane what if we just got married?

[musecharm-writes]

Bad Influence, Pt 3 (Steve Harrington X Reader)

Summary: A couple of days after your first day at Melvald’s, you tell Joyce about something that’s been bothering you; Steve gets help with his crush from a couple of friends.

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV

Over the days following your first shift, things get much easier. You’ve almost totally forgotten the exchange with Harrington and his friend. You might be able to completely, if it weren’t for their extremely obvious attempts to spy on you.

You think they’re under the impression that they’re being very sneaky, which means they probably don’t know that you’ve already caught on, but it also makes you feel a little sad that this is the best they can do.

You elect to do your best to ignore it; a nosy jerk and his little pal aren’t gonna get to you, not when things are finally starting to go your way.

“You’re cleaning that counter a little forcefully, there,” Joyce observes, carrying a box past you. When she emerges from storage, she asks, “Something on your mind?”

You consider the question. You stop scrubbing the counter like it’s done something to offend you and lean against it, the rag still under your hand. “Nothing. Just thinking about the meeting with Chief Hopper.”

Joyce walks over to a nearby shelf with an inventory checklist on a clipboard. “Uh huh. Okay. So what’s really bothering you?”

You purse your lips. Putting the rag and lemon scented Pledge you were using to clean under the counter, you follow Joyce over to the shelves, shoving your hands in your pockets.

“Steve Harrington’s friend and some kid have been following me,” you confess softly. “Every time I’ve left to go home for the past three days, I’ve caught them trying to spy on me. They’re probably gonna do it again today.”

Joyce looks genuinely concerned. “Steve’s friend? Who, what’s their name?”

You shrug. “Some girl. She was in here with him the other day, I think he called her Bucky?”

Joyce’s eyebrows shoot up toward her hairline. “ Buckley ? Robin Buckley?” She gestures with one hand to indicate a height of about five and a half feet. “This tall? Short brown hair?”

“Yeah, I guess that’s her.”

Joyce has a look of growing suspicion and confusion on her face. She lowers her clipboard to put one hand on her hip. “What did the kid look like?”

You frown as you try to remember. “Uh… a little shorter than that Robin girl, with curly hair, I think. At least, from what I could tell; he was wearing a hat.”

Joyce nods slowly. “...I think I know who we’re dealing with.” She looks you directly in the eye, and says, “Do you want me to tell them to leave you alone?”

You think about saying yes, just for a second. Then, you shake your head. “I’ll tell them to stop if it really starts to bother me. They haven’t realised it yet, but they suck at spying.”

Joyce laughs. “Okay, but if you change your mind, lemme know, and I’ll rough ‘em up for ya.” She smiles playfully, and you can’t help but laugh at the image of Joyce Byers fighting two children for bothering you.

“...Thank you, Joyce,” you say softly.

She gives you an odd look. “For what?”

“For… I dunno. For not being too hard on me, even though you were the one who caught me… doing what I did.”

She sighs, looking around to double check you’re still the only two in the store. “I won’t get into it too much since we’re still working right now, but… I used to be a bit of a wild child myself. I like to give people the benefit of the doubt. Plus,” she gives you a little nudge with her elbow, “Hop likes you. That counts for something in my book.”

You smile at her. “I guess it does.”

--

“You WHAT?”

Dustin and Robin look pleased with themselves, despite the fact that Steve is filled with a murderous rage.

“We’ve been following your crush to make sure the two of you would be compatible,” Dustin repeats. “To be honest, I don’t think you’re cool enough to land this one, but Robin seems to think you have a chance, so I’m gonna go with it.”

Steve points a finger angrily, about to defend himself and his infinite coolness, and then closes his mouth and folds his arms. “I don’t have to signify that with a response.”

Robin chimes in with, “I think you mean ‘dignify,’ genius,” which really doesn’t help their case with the whole ‘Steve-is-incredibly-angry-at-them’ thing.

He throws his hands up, frustrated. “Whatever, who cares! Why have you been following a person who I have zero chance of ever being in a relationship with to find out if we could date? That’s weird! And probably invasive, I think! Which means it’s also creepy!” He stalls out as he realises the possibility that you may have noticed his dunderhead friends creeping on you. “You haven’t been noticed, right?”

Dustin blows a disbelieving raspberry. “Psh! Please, you’re kidding, right? I think if we were able to successfully spy on a bunch of Russian soldiers without getting caught, we can do this, no problem.”

Robin smiles triumphantly. “Yeah, Harrington. Have a little more faith in our abilities.”

Steve shakes his head, running a hand through his hair. He prays that they’re telling the truth; otherwise, he senses some major embarrassment in his future.

Steve sighs, resigned. “Fine. Fine . I’ll let you two keep playing secret agent on my behalf. But if you get caught, lie your asses off about what you were doing, okay?”

They both promise not to put Steve in any more hot water with you than he already is, but it doesn’t fully lay his fears to rest.

“Oh, hey! You should come with us this time! We can fill you in on everything we’ve learned so far, and then you can watch the wild crush in its natural habitat,” Dustin says.

Steve frowns. “I dunno… Sounds like a bad idea.”

“No, I think it’ll be good. That way, if we do get caught, we can say it was all your idea,” Robin jokes. (Or at least, Steve hopes she’s joking.)

Which is how they all end up hiding behind Steve’s car, across the street from Melvald’s, waiting for your shift to end.

When the time finally comes and you’re walking out the door, they have to communicate via hurried whispers in order to coordinate their movements. Steve thanks their lucky stars that you’d walked to work that day.

They follow you down the street away from downtown. In the moments when it seems you’re about to turn around and catch them or you’re waiting to cross the street, they duck into alleys or alcoves, dive behind cars, or hide behind other people. Steve hates to admit it, even only to himself, but he sort of enjoys the exhilaration of sneaking around. He’d forgotten how much he enjoys it.

At the corner of 12th and Oak, after hiding behind a parked car, Dustin hisses, “Shit.”

Steve immediately snaps to attention. “Shit? What do you mean, shit? What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know where--”

“Hey.”

Robin, Steve, and Dustin all yell in surprise, whirling around to find you standing behind them. You have your hands in your pockets, a rucksack over one shoulder, and a bland expression.

“...Hi,” Dustin says awkwardly. He looks around for a moment, apparently noticing for the first time the ramifications of his and Robin’s actions. “Uh, we can explain--”

You hold up a hand. “Don’t bother,” you point at Steve. “You had them,” you point at Robin and Dustin, “follow me, for who knows why and honestly who fucking cares. Please stop. You’re not great at stalking people.”

Ouch. Okay. Well, there’s a hard truth.

“Sorry,” Dustin says, looking genuinely dejected. Steve isn’t sure whether it’s because he upset you or because you said he’s bad at spying.

Your face twitches, like you’re trying to maintain your vaguely stern expression, and then it crumbles, and you sigh. “It’s okay. I’m not really that mad about it since you guys aren’t really bugging me that much, but just…” You run a hand through your hair. “Look, please stop following me around, okay? It’s weird, and a little creepy. I don’t know why you were doing it, nor do I want to know, nor do I really care. I’m just kind of over the weird shit.”

Robin and Dustin share a look before nodding, and Steve says, “Don’t look at me, I got roped into this at the last minute.”

You look confused, but you nod back. “Okay. Cool. Bye, then.”

You go around them and start to walk away, but before you can make it to the crosswalk, Dustin calls out, “WAIT!”

You turn to look back, one eyebrow raised in a silent question.

Dustin says the last thing Steve wanted to hear him say. “Can Steve get your number?”

Steve’s entire face feels like it’s gonna melt off. He’s absolutely going to run away and change his name; this is just too goddamn embarrassing.

Then, you do something that shocks Steve to his core: you laugh. It’s a full, rich laugh, and it makes his heart pound so hard he thinks for a second he might be having a heart attack -- but, like, for real.

And then , you say, “Damn, kid, you have a lot of guts. Sure,” you swing your bag off your shoulder and root around in one of the pockets before emerging with a pen and a small notebook. You scribble your name and number down before ripping the page off and handing it not to Dustin, but to Steve, who feels like he might combust.

“I get home at one o’clock every day for the next two weeks,” you say, with a crooked smile. “Call me any time after that.”

Steve nods, dumbfounded, and you turn on your heel and saunter away.

“Holy shit,” Robin says, laughing, as soon as you’re out of earshot. “I cannot believe that that somehow worked in your favour. You are either the luckiest guy in the world or more pathetic than I originally thought.”

Steve pays her no mind. Instead, he’s desperately trying to remember if there are any rules about when to call once you get the phone number. Do you wait a day, or call that night? Or maybe you wait longer than a day? Or do you wait for them to call you? Wait, shit, he didn’t give you his number. 

Why didn’t he give you his number?

“Steve, I can practically hear you panicking. Calm down, it’ll be fine,” Dustin says.

Steve’s head whips around. He stares at Robin and Dustin, considering his options, and then realising that his only other options are Nancy and Jonathan.

“I need you guys to help me land a date,” Steve says.

--

You spend a couple of hours at home doing nothing in particular. You read a couple pages of a book you pull at random off the shelf, but you can’t concentrate on it, so you turn on the TV and start channel surfing.

All the while, you’re also trying to pretend you aren’t waiting for the phone to ring.

You gave Steve Harrington your number. If you’re being honest, you think you may be  panicking a little, but you don’t really mind the idea of him calling you so much as you mind the fear that this is some kind of joke.

A part of you is very, very afraid that it’s a joke.

You sigh, putting the remote down and stretching out on the couch. You gave him your number; all there is to do now is wait for him to do the rest. No use stressing over it since it’s out of your hands.

At least, that’s what you keep telling yourself. As the hours tick by -- as you make yourself dinner and put some in the fridge for your mom, as you watch a movie with your feet up on the coffee table and a bowl of ice cream in your lap -- you start to lose hope that Harrington ever planned on calling you at all.

Then the phone rings, and you almost drop your ice cream jumping up to get it.

“Hello?” You say casually, proud of the fact that you don’t sound out of breath from running to the phone.

On the other side, Steve Harrington says your name.

“Y-Yeah,” you say, and then clear your throat. “That’s me!”

“Cool, cool,” he says. “So, hey, uh… I was wondering if you wanted to hang out sometime?”

You chuckle. “Wow. That’s a little forward of you, isn’t it?” You’re thankful that he can’t see you blush through the phone.

“Oh. Is--Is that bad?”

You smile, a little charmed despite yourself. “Nah. I’ll give you brownie points for it, if you want.”

“Oh! Sure. I, uh, I love… brownies,” he finishes on a bit of a low note, so you decide to throw him a line.

“You wanted to hang out, Steve?”

“Y...Yeah. Yeah. Uh, if you want. I just… Wanted to give us the chance to get to know each other. Like, under the right circumstances, y’know?”

You hesitate for a moment. You have a feeling that he’s got more in mind than the arcade; after a bit of thought, you admit to yourself that you’re at least curious about where this goes.

“Sure,” you reply. “What did you have in mind?”

“I’ll meet you at your place at… seven on Friday night? If that’s cool with you, obviously. No pressure, y’know.” He sounds a little nervous, and you can’t help but feel for him a little. Poor guy’s clearly out of his depth.

“Yeah, Steve. That sounds great. I’ll see you then.”

It’s not until after you’ve given him your address and hung up that it hits you: you might, potentially, have a date with Steve Harrington.

Steve Harrington, who saw you get arrested.

Great.

[impressivepress]

Trotsky on the Russian Revolution

THE political struggle has a logic all its own. A man may be an adept at walking the tight-rope. He may strain every nerve in doing so, and be entirely successful in avoiding a fall either to one side of the arena or the other. But in the class struggle man cannot walk the tight rope. The more he tries, the more obvious it becomes that he is on one side and not the other.

Something like this has happened to Trotsky in his History of the Russian Revolution. For all his pretensions that it is “an honest study of the facts, determination of their real connections,” his book is none the less—or all the more—a bulky, three-volume pamphlet against Leninism, and above all against Lenin’s Party. It would indeed be strange were matters otherwise, when a man fought Lenin’s Party, off and on, from 1903 to 1917, and again from 1927 (to take only the date of his formal expulsion) up to the present day.

From the introduction onwards, when we learn (Vol. I, page 16) that social-democratic (i.e., revolutionary) criticism of Tsardom before the revolution was “nothing more than a safety valve for mass dissatisfaction, a condition of the stability of the social structure,” Trotsky’s monstrous idea of what constitutes a revolutionary Party of the working class is only equalled by his contempt for the one he had to deal with in Russia. This makes his book of great value to those reformist leaders, particularly in the I.L.P., who are now moving heaven and earth to restrain the revolutionary rank and file from joining forces with the Communist Party in this country. No wonder these leaders advertise Trotsky’s books and use his language at every convenient opportunity.

Trotsky’s mantle casts the glamour of revolutionary experience (even that of a renegade who declares that it is not socialism which the U.S.S.R. is building) over I.L.P. attacks on the revolutionary Party of the British working class—for the most part in exactly the same language that Trotsky used for many years about Lenin’s Party.

The amazing description of the rôle of a revolutionary Party in prerevolutionary times, just quoted, is no slip of the pen. Trotsky quotes without a tremor the secret police report on the Bolsheviks just before the war. “The most energetic and audacious element, ready for tireless struggle, for resistance and continual organisation.” But he abstains from giving even elementary flesh and blood to this bare skeleton—from drawing even a summary picture of the actual Bolshevik Party, in its cells, district committees and Central Committee, struggling, resisting and organising. Why? For a very good reason.

During these same years Trotsky was bitterly fighting the Bolshevik policy and working frenziedly for the liquidation of their organisation. This bitter fight went on from 1903 to 1913, in which latter year his attitude was well summed up in his own letter to the Menshevik leader, Chkheidze (April, 1913): “What a senseless incitement seems the rotten discord which is systematically excited by the specialist in such work, Lenin, that professional exploiter of everything backward in the Russian Labour movement . . . Lenin has made Pravda the implement of sectarian intrigue and unprincipled corruption . . . Lenin has to play systematically at hide-and-seek with his readers, talking of unity from below and making a split above, representing conceptions of the class struggle in terms of sect and faction. In short, the whole structure of Leninism to-day is built up on lies and distortions, and contains the poisonous seed of its own decay.” And Trotsky called for the wiping out of all “factional” differences, i.e., the uniting of all groups of the Social-Democrats, opportunist and revolutionary, irrespective of their policy. Trotsky himself described his purpose as “the destruction of the very foundations of Leninism, which is not compatible with the organisation of the workers into a political party, but flourishes magnificently on the dung of factional differences.”

Not only did Trotsky declare himself in this sense, but he worked for it too. And it is not accidental that the chronological table at the end of volume I, which comes from the pen of Trotsky’s “distinguished translator” and disciple, Max Eastman, omits (i) the foundation of the Social Democratic Party in 1898; (ii) the all-important Second Congress of the Party in 1903, at which the Bolsheviks split from the Mensheviks (including Trotsky); (iii) the “August Bloc” of all the Menshevik elements which Trotsky organised to fight the Bolsheviks in August, 1912; (iv) the historic revolutionary manifesto against the war published under Lenin’s direction by the Bolsheviks in September, 1914. For the Trotskyists the long years of relentless struggle for the Party, building it up group by group, hammering out its policy step by step, in incessant battle not only against the police but also against opportunism in all its forms (including Trotsky), don’t count—they are merely “a safety valve for mass dissatisfaction,” at best “sectarian” prehistory.

So when the war came, with its natural disorganisation of the revolutionary movement, at first Trotsky sees only “a dreadful desolation in the underground movement,” in which “only scattered groups, circles and solitary individuals did anything” (p. 60). That “only” is a political autobiography in itself. Trotsky does not suspect—or suspecting, he hides—that it was Lenin’s battle for a revolutionary illegal Parry, mercilessly fighting opportunism on all fronts during those previous years of “the dung of factional differences” which alone made it certain that, however much the Tsar’s police arrested, seized, broke up, of the machinery and the leadership, the class conscious workers always built up a new Party organisation around even a single Leninist, and sometimes even without him. That is why the police report which Trotsky himself quotes, without apparently understanding, speaks of the revolutionary activity of the Leninists leading to strikes and disorders, in all the larger centres “since the beginning of the war.” Nothing else could happen, after 10 years of Bolshevik work.

It is essential to understand this. At the present time so-called “Socialists” are glibly talking of the “crushing” of the working class movement in Germany by the bourgeois White Terror, and blaming its “break up” on the German Bolsheviks, while paying lip service to the splendid fighters against Hitler who have made their appearance all over the country. They hide from the workers—just as Trotsky does in his History—that the fighters have been schooled and inspired by the relentless fight of the German Communists in previous years.

So again when Trotsky comes to the revolution of March, 1917. The rôle of the Bolsheviks, so eloquently attested by the secret reports of the police to their superiors, is reduced by him to the very barest minimum, frequently to vanishing point. He speaks of the great political strikes at Petrograd in October, 1916, with a passing reference to “Bolshevik leaflets distributed”—ignoring the manifesto of the Petrograd Bolshevik Committee and its three days’ discussion at many factories which launched the first strike of 60,000 workers and the similar lead which led to the second strike of double the size. He refers to the 575,000 strikers of January and February, 1917, the 150,000 who struck at Petrograd on January 9th (“Bloody Sunday”) the continuous strikes in February, the 90,000 who struck on February 14 on the day the Duma opened—and completely ignores (apart from a passing reference) the intense Party work which lay behind these strikes, backed by the tremendous prestige of the “Leninists” which even the police recognised. It was expressed in the existence of no less than 15 sub-district committees, with live connections in scores of factories, and numerous illegal leaflets which called the strikes referred to (Fleer: “the Petersburg Committee of the Bolsheviks in the War Years”).

No wonder, after the foregoing, that Trotsky describes the actual mass movements which began the revolution, from February 23 onwards, as an initiative “taken of their own accord by the most oppressed and downtrodden part of the proletariat, the women textile workers” (p. 120). Again and again he underlines this point, declaring that two days later, when the Petrograd Bureau of the Bolshevik Central Committee called for an All Russian General Strike, they were “watching the movement from above . . . they did not lead” (p. 129); and “the masses had almost no leadership from above” (p. 135). He even discovers that the Vyborg subdistrict committee was “opposing strikes,” because it was against action on that particular day, February 23.

What are the facts? The facts are that the Bolshevik Party of course did not “launch” the revolution against absolutism. The first strikes at some factories on February 23 may or may not have been started by members of the Bolshevik Party. But neither these nor the other strikes would have played the part they did but for the immense work of the Bolsheviks in the preparatory period—the 480 strikes at Petrograd with 500,000 participators between July, 1915, and December, 1916: of these, over 250, with 350,000 strikers, political, for the most part led by the Bolsheviks: the minimum figure of 87 leaflets and other publications in not less than 300,000 copies, issued illegally in the factories and barracks of Petrograd by the Bolsheviks during the war period: the contacts with dozens of works and factories already mentioned.

In point of fact, however, in its manifesto shortly after February 14, the Petrograd committee for the first time declared that “the time for open struggle has arrived” and called for fraternisation with the soldiers as well as for strikes. And the immediate response came, not from the women textile workers as Trotsky alleges, but from one of the Bolshevik strongholds—the giant Putilov Works, 30,000 strong, where a stay-in strike on February 18 was countered with a threat of a general lockout on February 20. The workers at mass meetings in the shops on February 21 refused to surrender, the state controlled management closed down the works on February 22, and 80,000 workers of Petrograd poured into the streets the next day in support of the Putilov Works. The next day they were 200,000. This movement of the biggest detachment of the Petrograd proletariat, one to whom that proletariat was accustomed to turn for a lead, “escaped the notice” of Trotsky.

Only much further on in the book (pp. 167-8), he admits grudgingly that “the mystic doctrine of spontaneousness explains nothing.” But even so he goes no further than to refer to the revolutionary experiences of the masses, and to “scattered workers . . . capable of making revolutionary inferences” and “progressive soldiers seized, or at least touched, in the past by revolutionary propaganda.” But what workers; where did they come from; from whom did they learn; what inferences; who “touched” the soldiers? At long last, very cautiously, we learn in one sentence (p. 169) that they were “educated for the most part by the Party of Lenin.” That this is an afterthought is shown by its total lack of connection with anything that went before it. The party of Lenin, up to that point, has been scarcely more, in Trotsky’s representation, than a vague shape in the background which gave little leadership. And no wonder. If Trotsky said more, he would have to reveal that Lenin’s party educated them for years in a life-and-death struggle against the Trotsky-Menshevik alliance!

Of course, Trotsky makes great play with the wavering and confusion in the Bolshevik leadership, during the first month after the March Revolution, singling out Stalin in particular. These waverings have never been concealed by the Bolshevik Party. Lenin’s writings on the subject were republished in his collected works, while Stalin recalled his own mistakes as early as 1924, when Trotsky first resumed his attacks on the Party which had been interrupted or restrained since 1917. It is amusing, however, to see Trotsky attacking Stalin for his shortlived advocacy in March, 1917, of a union of Bolsheviks and internationalist Mensheviks (p. 317) on the ground that thereby he was sweeping aside Lenin’s wartime struggle “against social-patriotism and its pacifist disguise.” For all through the war Trotsky had been specifically attacked by Lenin for his refusal to break with these very Mensheviks, i.e., “social-patriots in pacifist disguise.” Lenin called Trotsky’s group “lackeys of opportunism abroad” (1915) and “waverers even more dangerous than the social patriots” (1917). While Trotsky, on these very grounds, was attacking Lenin’s “policy of group selection and sectarian intolerance” (No. 146 of his paper, Nashe Slovo).

And in the present volume itself. Trotsky gives every kind of psychological explanation of Menshevism except that of bourgeois elements in the ranks of the proletariat (pp. 185-7). He represents their pre-revolutionary rôle as that of putting the bourgeoisie “in touch with the more moderate upper layers of the workers, those with a tendency towards legal activity around the Duma and in the trade unions” (p. 237), a typically vulgarised apportioning of functions between the Bolsheviks and Mensheviks (as though the Bolsheviks also did not “tend” to legal activity in these institutions), which slurs over the fact that the Bolsheviks did so with a revolutionary, and the Mensheviks with an opportunist, purpose. Trotsky actually declares, in black and white (p. 239) that the bloc of the Menshevik leaders of the Petrograd Soviet with the big industrialists of the Provisional Government, after the March Revolution, “meant their break with the proletarian movement.” So that, prior to 1917, the Mensheviks were part of the proletarian movement, according to Trotsky of 1932! And this individual has the assurance to proclaim himself the “defender” of Lenin against his unworthy followers.

But apologies for and whitewashing of the Mensheviks’ anti-revolutionary rôle are a natural and inevitable complement of Trotsky’s systematic concealment and depreciation of the importance of the Bolshevik party organisation. One may note in passing that Trotsky, after flagellating Stalin to his heart’s content, cleverly passes over the fact that the majority decision on the question of unity (adopted before Lenin’s arrival) was that it was possible only with those Mensheviks who held a genuinely anti-“patriotic” standpoint, and that in any case the Bolsheviks would only go into the forthcoming meeting with the Mensheviks unofficially and for information purposes (Proletarskaya Revolutsia, No. 63, p. 155). The lordly Trotsky, as ever, knows only leaders: all the rest and the Party organisation as a whole may pass their resolutions if they please—they remain mere cyphers, “the dung of factional differences.” And even long after Lenin’s arrival, we learn, the party only “finally fell into step” with the workers (p. 368) in October—when, as Trotsky is too modest to recall, he had become one of the Party leaders.

One curious detail of this policy of never representing the Party as something vertebrate, alive, fighting and radiating energy: Trotsky even contrives to suggest that the enormous growth of the Party in membership and influence, from 12,000 in March to 240,000 in September, was something spontaneous. On pp. 430-1 we learn that “the Putilov workers had gone over to the Bolsheviks . . . the growth of the class struggle almost automatically raised the influence of the Bolsheviks . . . the factory and shop committees went over to the Bolsheviks much sooner than the Soviet . . . in the fundamental questions of economic life the Petrograd proletariat . . . had gone over to the Bolsheviks . . . The influence of the Bolsheviks in the metal workers’ union had grown still more swiftly,” etc. If the phrase had occurred once or twice there would have been no special meaning in it, but repeated so persistently, and in the light of all that goes before, its special meaning is unmistakable. Trotsky implies that the Bolsheviks were not a fighting organisation, alive at every point from Lenin to the remotest cell, which battled for its new members and won them from the enemy, but a revolutionary shadow which the enlightened workers at a certain stage (coinciding, so it happens, with the time when Trotsky at last came in) were good enough to clothe in flesh and blood. The history of the Bolshevik Party, in other words, began in 1917. The truth is the very opposite, as every factory in Leningrad could tell: but Trotsky’s objective does not coincide with the truth.

Up to the moment of Trotsky’s entry into the Bolshevik Party in July, 1917, this picture of the Party holds good. At the beginning of July the famous armed demonstration of the Petrograd workers and soldiers, known to history as the “July days,” took place. Then (to quote Lenin), out of the growing fury of the masses at the renewal of the Imperialist war by their “revolutionary” government, “followed the explosion of their anger—an explosion which the Bolsheviks tried to restrain, and to which they naturally had to try and impart the most organised form possible” (Lessons of the Revolution, July, 1917). The measures which the Kerensky Government took against the militant workers, on that occasion, opened a new and decisive chapter in the history of the Revolution.

Trotsky’s one concern in his second volume—devoted almost entirely to the preparation and the aftermath of the July days—is to show once again how the Party was not merely failing to lead the masses, but even distrusted by them. Again and again this theme recurs, like a haunting refrain. “Even broad circles of the Party were beginning to lose patience. . . . ‘Why don’t they get busy up there?’ the soldiers and sailors would ask, having in mind not only the compromise leaders but also the governing bodies of the Bolsheviks (p. 19). . . . ‘We have to play the part of a firehose,’ said a Vyborg Bolshevik (p. 21). . . . The masses did feel that the Party was irresolute (p. 26).... The Bolsheviks were caught up by the movement and dragged into it (p. 29). . . . The workers and soldiers had not yet acquired the conviction that they ought to come out only upon the summons of the Party and under its leadership. The experiences of February and April had taught them rather the opposite (p. 74). . . . From their mighty mass movement the political axis had been torn out (p. 76).” And so on, without end.

The political contradictions involved in this tangle of sham analysis are innumerable. If the “political axis” could be torn out from the mass movement by the betrayal of the opportunist parties—the Mensheviks and Socialist-Revolutionaries—how could they be at the same time rising in revolutionary impatience against the Bolshevik leadership? And particularly, if the Party, they left, was “irresolute.” If the experience of February and April had taught them not to follow the lead of the Party, while in July the Bolsheviks had to be “dragged” into the movement, how was it that the July days were—after a brief period of White Terror—followed by an unexampled growth of confidence in the Bolsheviks? Experience in other lands (the German Communists in 1923, for example), teaches that, if a revolutionary party at critical times lags behind the masses for a few weeks, let alone months, it forfeits their confidence for years to come. But, according to Trotsky, this didn’t happen. On the contrary, he suddenly makes a somersault and announces, in imitation of Lenin (p. 79), that the Bolsheviks were nevertheless right in not making a revolution—the masses were not yet clear and homogeneous enough!

The difference between the Bolshevik Party and the Trotskyist understanding of the masses was never clearer, by the way, than on this point. So far from agreeing with Trotsky’s estimate of the Party’s position at the time, Lenin, on the contrary, wrote that “the Bolshevik organisation alone had moral authority in the eyes of the masses, and induced them to renounce violence. . . . Our party did its revolutionary duty, moving together with the justly indignant masses on July 4” (A Reply, July 26-27, 1917). Again, Trotsky (forgetting his own earlier remarks on the impatience of the masses), writes in the best “blood and iron” style that “the workers and soldiers could not understand (the need for a new revolution). . . . The front and the provinces needed time to make their own inferences from the adventure of the offensive. . . . The Petrograd workers and soldiers had to test the situation with their own experience. . . . The offensive must be given time to exhaust itself” (pp. 87-89)

They had to be taught by hard knocks, says this dispassionate arbiter from the heights of Olympus. Whereas Lenin—while agreeing that the situation in any case was not ripe for an insurrection—points out that the main point is quite a different one: “On July 4, there was still possible a peaceful transference of power to the Soviets, there was still possible a peaceful development of the Russian Revolution. . . . The movement of July 3-4, was the last attempt by means of a demonstration to impel the Soviets to take power” (A Reply). “Precisely before July 4, the slogan of transference of power to the existing Soviets was the only correct one. Then it was possible peacefully, without civil war, for then there were not the systematic acts of violence against the people, introduced after July 4. . . . After July 4, the transference of power to the Soviets became impossible without civil war, since power from July 4-5 passed to the military Bonapartist clique, supported by the Cadets and Black Hundreds.” (They Don’t See the Wood far the Trees, August 19, 1917.)

Trotsky mentions this view of Lenin’s, as he mentions everything, but, in true opportunist fashion, without connecting up events and conclusions. On the contrary, Trotsky makes it quite clear in another connection that he does not agree with this estimate of July 4. Whereas Lenin was most insistent that “the Kerensky ministry is undoubtedly a ministry of the first steps of Bonapartism” (July 29), that “power passed on the 4-5 of July to the military Bonapartist clique” (August 19), and that “power has already been seized and consolidated by them” (September 1), Trotsky revolts against this view—which he carefully represents as Stalin’s (Vol. 2, p. 324)—asserting that in that case there would have been no necessity for the Monarchist General Kornilov to have resorted to insurrection shortly afterwards. That Lenin had already most inconveniently replied in advance to this very point—the Tsar was also in power after the crushing of the Bolshevik—led insurrection of December, 1905, but it took him two general elections before he felt strong enough to re-establish the full dictatorship—is of course of no consequence to Trotsky.

Why is it of consequence to us, however? Partly because it throws light on Trotsky’s differences with Lenin in his estimate of the character of the revolution itself. Lenin said, again and again, that the revolution had actually brought about in real life—and thereby had outgrown—the old Bolshevik slogan of “the revolutionary democratic dictatorship of the proletariat and peasantry” (Works, English edition, Vol. XX., Part i, pp. 120, 125, 133, etc.). Trotsky, on the other hand, asserts that “the régime which issued from the February revolution . . . was a living and exhaustive proof of the fact that such a dictatorship was impossible” (Vol. I, p. 328-9). Lenin said that, owing to lack of organisation and class consciousness among the workers and peasants, which the Mensheviks made worse, the Soviet power was surrendering its authority to the capitalists (Works, Vol. XX, Part i, p. 116). Trotsky, by skilfully sliding from the revolutionary peasantry in particular to the petty-bourgeoisie in general, and from them to the petty-bourgeois parties—Mensheviks and Socialist Revolutionaries—suggests that it was the peasantry (as part of the petty-bourgeoisie) which was “compelled to choose” between the proletariat and the capitalists, i.e., that the Mensheviks and S.R.’s really had no choice but to act as they did.

And, whereas Lenin insisted that the dual power thus created was “strikingly unique . . . unparalleled in history,” because the power of the Provisional Government rested on the support given to the big bourgeoisie by the second government—the Soviet, representing the workers and peasants—Trotsky “simplifies” dual power into “a temporary correlation of powers” through “dread of interference of a third force,” and professes to find numerous parallels in the English Revolution of the XVII. century and the French Revolution of the XVIII (Vol. I, pp. 223-7). Actually, the examples Trotsky quotes are the very opposite of Lenin’s definition: since they show alternative governments fighting for mastery, and not one ruling by grace of the opportunist controllers of the other, as in Russia.

That is quite natural. Trotsky’s whole purpose is to blur the distinction between the Russian Revolution and its predecessors. The distinction that not only were both the proletariat and the peasantry motive forces in the Revolution (Trotsky’s chapter on the peasantry in Vol. 3 is entirely disconnected with all that went before), but that the Soviets which they created were seized upon by the petty bourgeois parties and monstrously utilised as a footstool for continuing capitalist rule. Why should Trotsky blur over this fact? Because it confirmed the Bolshevik conception which Trotsky had fought against for years. The whole course of 1917, and particularly the rôle of the opportunist parties, were a ruthless condemnation of Trotsky’s own political creed and policy right up to 1917—and after it. After all, one cannot fight for half one’s political life for a bloc with the Mensheviks and against the Bolsheviks without committing oneself to an unpleasantly notorious extent.

Incidentally, it is not without significance that Trotsky passes very hastily over the question of how his own organisation—the “Mejrayontsi”—came at last to join the Bolsheviks in July, 1917. Half a page, with a declaration of his own, favouring fusion, quoted from Pravda, is, he thinks, quite enough (Vol. 2, p. 311). Why this coyness? For a simple reason revealed in the Review of the Lenin Institute (No. IV., published in 1925), where Lenin’s notes at the Mejrayontsi conference are reprinted. Trotsky at that Conference opposed immediate unity with the Bolsheviks, which Lenin had suggested; he declared that he could not call himself a Bolshevik, since “the Bolsheviks have debolshevised themselves”: and secured the rejection of Lenin’s proposals. Moreover, as late as the end of June, Trotsky was still paternally reproving (in strangely familiar terms!) the “difficulties in the way of unity due to Bolshevik habits of sectarianism” (Vperiod, No. 5).

Trotsky hides the facts about his own hankering after some bridge between opportunism and revolution—right up to the point when opportunism called in military dictatorship against the masses—for exactly the same reason that he does all in his power to belittle and discredit the revolutionary party, up to the moment he vouchsafed to confer his adherence upon it.

Trotsky’s “History” is much more an apologia of his past—and his present. To many people it may seem strange that one who played a not inconsiderable part in one stage of the revolution—from 1917 to 1923, should descend to counter-revolution. But the history of every revolution knows such cases. And we may safely refer such questioners—as well as those who, to-day also, attack the “exclusiveness” of the Communists, to the remark of Engels that “the movement of the proletariat inevitably passes through various stages of development: at every stage a section of the people stick fast and go no further.” Marx, on the same subject, observed that revolutions have a marvellous facility for throwing out their dross.

~

by Andrew Rothstein · (Marxists Internet Archive, 2008.)

—

Labour Monthly, Vol. 15, December 1933, No. 12.

[derpyslurpy-da-derp-master]

All the personal asks plz

Alrighty then!

1. Any scars?

Mhm, pretty much all the scars I have are burns. One is from burning the side of my arm on an iron my mom had  standing upright that I brushed against trying to reach something on the counter behind it and I’ve got one or two other scars from my culinary class on my hands from trying to put a tray in the oven and bumping it on the rungs above the ones I was putting it on. I burnt my hand day one of actually cooking. Yes I’m a disaster.

2. Self harmed?

Absolutely not. One, I’m too scared of pain, and two, I have uh… An unpleasant history involving someone else threatening self harm to make me do what they wanted, so… It’s a really sore spot for me.

3. Crush?

I honestly have no idea.

4. Kissed anyone?

Nope

5. Coke or Pepsi?

Neither they make me physically ill

6. Someone you hate?

There’s a LOT of assholes at my school but the person I hate the most is probably my dad for reasons.

7. Best Friends?

Mhm! I’ve got a handful on this site but my IRL best friend is @theansweris-a. She doesn’t really get on tumblr anymore but if you’re reading this I love you friendo and have a good day! :D

8. Have you ever done alcohol or drugs?

hahaha fuCK NO. I’d rather not get addicted to something that can and will kill me and throw my money at people to sustain it. If someone offered me either I’d probably flip them off whilst slowly backing up and getting tf out of there because NO.

9. What’s your dream job?

Author/Illustrator with some VA work and Video Game directing on the side.

10. Ever been in love?

I have. It was with someone I didn’t have a chance with and who would be an absolutely awful lover to me since we weren’t compatible emotion-wise so I let it go. It was hard, but I did it.

11. Last time you cried?

Last Sunday trying to explain to my mom why our preacher and the church we go to has completely fallen out of my favor for it’s very loud blatant ‘LGBT people are bad abortion is evil insert other white conservative stuff here’ ‘cause she doesn’t know I’m LGBT+ (and it’s going to stay that way) and I was trying to explain to her why I would never say invite my LGBT friends to church because they would be mercilessly persecuted by people who call themselves followers of God then spit in his eye by doing the exact opposite of everything he’s asked of them. Yes I still feel really strongly about this.

12. Favorite color?

Cyan!

13. Height?

How coincidence, I just got it measured today! 5′6, FINALLY OFFICIALLY TALLER THEN MY MOM MUHAHAHAHAHA

14. Birthday?

November 17th!

15. Eye color?

Milk chocolately-brown

16. Hair color?

Dark brown

17. What do you love?

this is so open ended hjkfjfjkhgkjh okay then I love girls, video games, anime, writing, drawing, reading, and animals.

18. Obsession?

My top 3 in order of obsession; Kill La Kill, RWBY, and Kingdom Hearts.

19. If you had one wish, what would it be?

For every single illness, disease, syndrome, disorder, and so on to have a cure. From Cancer to Asthma. Both because I have so many incurable diseases/disorders and because I know there are people out there who have things so much worse than me in that department.

20. Do you love someone?

I love all my mutals, friends, and most of my family including extended family. 

21. Kiss or hug?

I’ve never been kissed so I don’t know anything about how that would be so I’d say hug because I love hugs!

22. Nicknames people call you?

Derpy, Slurpy, D-Slur, Resident Cinnamon Roll (That’s my actual nickname on a Revue Starlight discord)

23. Favorite song?

this is like asking me to pick my favorite child uhhhhh… This Life Is Mine by Jeff Williams, it just means a lot to me.

24. Favorite band?

i know no bands by name

25. Worst thing that has ever happened to you?

….Okay, uh, this is gonna be really hard to decide because a LOT of bad things have happened to me. I’ll go with the more physical choice because I’d rather not dump too much of my emotional baggage onto yall. One time I was being prepped for surgery and they needed to get the IV in. (for the record I’m shaking pretty badly right now from thinking about this) They had to stab my arm with what they called a ‘Bee sting’ (it wasn’t a bee sting it goes almost down to the bone) that had numbing stuff in it and they were trying to find a vein they could put my IV in but they couldn’t find one (okay now i’m typing really fast so I don’t have to think about this for long) and they kept stabbing my arm over and over again. The thing is I have a serious phobia of needles that sends me into panic attacks, I’ll go lightheaded I’ll lose my hearing and so on. So I was trying to put a brave face on despite my parents not even being there but they would. not. stop. They didn’t give me a break. It was one stab then another then another then another. I was having a full blown panic attack, I was almost crying. Then they seemed to get it. They left me for a bit and my parents came in. My arm started swelling. They HADNT got it. My arm was being filled with whatever my IV was. They came back in with the beesting. They started stabbing me again but on the other arm. I couldn’t keep a brave face anymore after thinking they were finally done. I started to cry and sob and the panic attack I had that day was the single worst I have ever had. It got worse. They missed a vein entirely and instead hit a bundle of nerves. My hand started involuntarily twitching as pain unlike any I’ve ever felt before or until now wracked my arm. I had actual trauma from this, the night after the surgery I kept feeling ghost pains of the stabs in my arms, I had to sleep on my stomach with my arms wrapped around my front just to make them go away. I’m still extremely traumatized of this to this day. I never want to have surgery again. I never want an IV again. 

Okay that got away from me there I’m sorry I kinda was having a panic attack while writing that. Anyways moving on.

26. Best thing that has ever happened to you?

This is gonna sound cheesy but meeting @theansweris-a. She’s the sweetest and kindest person I have ever met in my entire life and I feel so incredibly lucky to call her my friend, though knowing her she’ll see this and reply with ‘No U’ because we always end up in a shouting match of ‘YOU ARE A WONDERFUL HUMAN BEING’ ‘NO YOU’RE A WONDERFUL HUMAN BEING’ 

27. Something you would change about yourself?

I definitely would lose weight. Not because of societies bullshit but because I legitimately want to lose weight so I can actually get strong and build up some muscle, I WANT TO BE ABLE TO OPEN GATORADE BOTTLES GODDAMNIT

28. Ever dated someone?

Nope, I’m closeted and have no interest in even pretending I’m straight by dating a guy, I mean I know some genuinely nice guys (all of them dorks) but they’re all just my friends though they are massive goofballs and I love them very much. (Entirely platonically)

29. Worst mistake?

I… Don’t think you guys wanna know that. It’s nothing bad its just depressing and I don’t wanna be more depressing then I already have been.

30. Watch the movie or read the book?

Depends on which is better, like I’d rather watch the Chronicles of Narnia than read the books because the books are honestly terrible but I’d rather read Percy Jackson than watch the movie because the movies are incredibly unfaithful to the books.

31. Ever had a heartbreak?

Yeah… 

32. Favorite show?

Kill La Kill!

33. Best day of your life?

My cheesiness never ceases but the first time I actually hung out with @theansweris-a IRL at the mall. I remember being SO excited for it but also nervous that how easily we talk to each other wouldn’t translate into real life and I remember spotting her walking up and practically shouting her name before running up and giving her a big ol’ hug whilst crying happy tears (I know i’m sappy shut up) and then when we were let loose to walk around we quickly discovered that we clicked almost immediately and incredibly well it was just the best thing ever. Like, in that one day alone we spent six hours in that mall just chatting and buying stuff and having fun and we left the mall with like three different inside jokes despite it being our first time meeting in person since we first met. Hi my name is Derpy and I’m a big ol’ sap.

34. Any talents?

I’m pretty good at writing, I can type really fast, and I can play the harmonica.

35. Do you wish you could ever start over?

Absolutely not. Things are the way they are for a reason, and even though I’ve been through a LOT it’s because of all that that I’m the person I am today and I wouldn’t trade that for the world.

36. Any bad habits?

Yeah, I’m a nail biter.

37. Ever had a near death experience?

Yes actually, when I was 3 or 4 we took a plane to California to visit some relatives and I almost walked out of the air hatch one the way out, I remember this vividly even though it was a long time ago. If it wasn’t for the flight attendant grabbing me before I fell out, I wouldn’t be here today.

38. Someone I can tell anything to?

@theansweris-a and @my-words-are-light, they’re both really good listeners and have helped me through a lot of stuff.

39. Ever lost a loved one?

My Great Grandpa Ritch died shortly after I was born, there’s a lot of pictures of him smiling and holding me while in a hospital bed and hooked up to oxygen.

40. Do you believe in love?

Oh absolutely, 100%. I mean if you know me you already know that I have just ABSURD amounts of love in my heart and I genuinely believe that it exists.

41. Someone you hate/Dislike?

Wasn’t this already a question?

42. Are you okay?

Mostly, yeah. I have some stuff to work on but I’m honestly at the best i’ve ever been!

43. Relationship status?

I’m a Single Pringle

[kendrixtermina]

Disclaimer For Potential Partners (f/m/x)

Writing this down as much to gather my thoughts and go into this with clear priorities as for possible future reference. 

My mother always told me that if you wanted everyone to like you, you’d have to be a 50 dollar bill. I have come to accept that I’m more like licorice. Some people aren’t gonna like me but that doesn’t mean that there aren’t others who would appreciate me. 

I’d rather you run away screaming NOW than in three years when we’re both invested so Let’s get all this out of the way:

I’m bisexual. Yes, I’ve dated dudes in the past. I’ve had a brief online flirt with an agender person and do think androgynous ppl are hot which I suppose would make me pan in some ppl’s books, at this point the choice in label is purely aesthetic. I’m looking for a female partner right now because I’ve always had a slight preference for girls anyways but a sufficiently compatible non-female would not be refused. 

Because ppl have gotten this wrong in the past: Preference is about how likely you are to notice that someone is hot in the first place like in the early stages. It doesn’t mean my attachment to those dudes was any less “real” (or the other way around!) I just flat out don’t care whats in your pants there are other things to be picky about

From since I was young, the message I got from music, books etc is that it’s pretty bad to say “I love you” unless you truly mean it. So I don’t say “I love you” until I’m 100% sure I can do that it good conscience. It seems that it takes me a bit longer to be sure than most people, but it’s not like I’ve conducted statistics on this

I’m not vegan/vegetarian and I’m never going to be vegan/vegetarian

I’m not a pet person 

I’m not a sporty person and I’m never going to be a sporty person

Go through my stuff, spy on me in any way or ask me to tell you where I am at all times and its over

I’m an antiprohibitionist and don’t think there’s anything morally wrong with taking recreational substances. Conversely, I’m not interested in that sort of thing as a full-on lifestyle either. 

I try to keep an open mind and try everything once but im probably not gonna reorganize my life around new age woo-woo. 

So far my folks have liked most my partners, but if our social circles don’t get along I’m comfortable with leaving them separate. 

I believe in judging people as individuals first. I don’t wanna hear no paranoid shit about “the muslims” or other stereotypical carricatures but if you’re gonna be “europeans that europeans this” as if im not in the room its not gonna work. 

Don’t be fooled by the foreign-sounding surname im a potato through and through. No exotic fanservice to be had here. 

Barring unforseen dictatorships, I don’t want to move out of Europe. I like it here. Its full of frustrating dumbasses but so is the rest of the world.  Yay for cheese and consumer protection laws! I would consider moving closer to the shore though. 

It’s fine if you don’t speak German but you should not hate or dislike it.  English is a plus because me, my friends and my family are into internet culture

I haven’t spoken to my father in five years. No, you’re not going to patch this up. You don’t have to ignore him too if you’re not comfortable but you’ll have to respect my choice instead of playing family therapist or throwing platitudes about forgiveness at me. 

Im not counting and it depends on your definition but Ive fucked at least 15-20 people, which according to statistics is above average? Always used rubber unless it was long-term and exclusive tho. That might bother some ppl. 

That said it has been my conclusion that fucking does nothing that a beer can’t do and that the real quality stuff is what you could already do as a grade schooler when you still thought of all the grownup stuff as mystical. Having ice cream together, exploring new places, having contemplative conversations in the rain, telling each other your fantasies? That’s The Stuff. 

Hence while I wouldn’t turn down some fuckage along the way what im looking for at this point is someone to share life and grow old with, like there doesn’t need to be the expectation of further strings but the end goal RN is to find One That Sparks Joy(TM) that will get precedence

I’m not big on material gifts or the ritual part of dating if thats important to you I might not be the ideal candidate, but if its not thats probably good for your wallet

I’m a strong introvert. Sometimes I go weeks without talking to anyone other than my boss or maybe texting my relatives. If you’re very introverted or work alot this might be an advantage. Of course if I love you I will try my best to match up to your attention needs but if you need your partner to text you 15 times every day to feel good I might just not be your cup of tea

That doesn’t mean im not interested in going on or doing new experiences. I very much hope to do that together with you just not 5 days a week - if you can’t give new things wholehearted tries things might get uncomfortable

I like spicy food and all sort of asian cousine, but if you can’t stand the sight of cheese, asparagus and sausage it’s not gonna work either. I can obviously put less chili in your portion. 

I tend to talk fast and I find it hard to stop it even if I try, if that bothers you look elsewhere

I cannot stand forced optimism OR over-the top misanthropy or snobbishness. I will gush about things, but I like my dark edgy content and I stand by it. It is an advantage if you like talking about art. If you don’t like morbid humor that might be a problem

No diet talk

No perfectionism

No passive aggressive ppl or ppl that are uncomfortable with direct confrontation. That won’t work, we’d just set each other off even without meaning to and it would just be sad. If Im doing something wrong don’t expect me to notice by magic, tell me to my face so I can fix it. Don’t be hostile out of nowhere and don’t beat around the bush. 

im not religious or spiritual. I don’t mind if you are but if you want to have kids and bring them up strongly-immersed in some Abrahamic faith im not sure if this is the right adress

No anti-intellectualism (no snobbery, elitism or smartassery either - as a wise pig once said, “Knowledge is a horizon to strive for, not a prize to hold in your hand” It begins with realizing what you don’t know)

Indifferent about monogamy, but I wouldn’t say that I’m the sort of person who needs non-monogamy either.  If you want to we can do it (write me out some list of where you draw the lines so there’s no misunderstandings) but if you don’t it’s no biggie. I don’t care if you fuck 10 other people - for me, respect, honor and loyalty are to do with other things, like, don’t make fun of me and don’t expect me to change because one (1) person said I’m weird or whatever.

Don’t give me diseases tho. I’ll take precautions to extend the same courtesy to you.  

Potential character flaws: I can be a tad sensitive, disorganized and defensive sometimes, not gonna sugarcoat it. I have no filter and curse like a sailor. Also I have zero social skills and sometimes I come across as either angry or unemotional when its really the opposite. I find that just as confusing and contradictory as that sounds, I have like zero sense of how I come off. I try to be aware of all of these and do right to everyone to the best of my ability but if you’re sensitive about any of these point someone else might be a better fit 

2 kids max. I’m not sure I’ll have ANY at this point, and most certainly not in the next 5 years. IF we decide to have some later I volunteer to carry them though, I probably have good genes, my mom popped out 4 babies in 6 years with nary a complication. Besides I’d rather it was me dealing with the gross pregnancy stuff than someone I love

My favorite bedroom stuff is fingers-in-front-cavity and butt stuff. Mild sleepsex fetish but nothing super pronounced. What I don’t like or just am not very good at is top/bottom play. 

So far most my partners have had somewhat stronger sex drive than me but Id argue that I very much have one and ive never refused unless I was in physical pain, severely sleep-deprived or working on some important work-related thing that was due the next day. 

It’s important - and science backs me up on this - that you can freely talk to each other in n open, natural and relaxed manner

If you think im weird just do us both the favor and stay away don’t come at me with the attitude that you’re gonna mold me to your desires - even just writing this comes off kinda touchy but im saying this because some people out there really don’t get it. Like my natural tendency is to be open, courious and realistic,  but some people see that as free real estate and then it falls to me to be the reasonable one and End The Madness and im tired of that.

Like I want to be able to give love and pour out all my inner romantic shit without having to be afraid of being fucked over I want to be able to trust you with my inner harley quinn as well as my inner phantom of the opera 

UGH that sounded a bit tryhard didn’t it? But its the best description i could come up with

Must remember to translate this into mordor speak later

[didsbumeare-blog]

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