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#but more 'i am sad that our rep is still so limited even as they are pioneering and i wish raine had more screentime bc i like them'

thebibliosphere · 3 years

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So I'm currently unemployed because I got fired for taking too much sick leave (it was legally sketchy blah blah blah but in the end I just can't work and take care of myself and investigate my mystery health problems at the same time). So I've been spending more time writing!

I really admire your writing and loved Hunger Pangs. I'm looking forward to the poly elements developing and I'm wondering if you have any advice for writing about poly. I've made one of my projects a snarky take on "write what you know" ... Apparently what I know is southern gothic meets Pacific northwest gothic, chronic illness pandemic surrealism, and falling back-asswards into threesomes.

I know this is a very open-ended question and I don't expect an answer, I'm just curious about it if you have the energy. As a writer, trying to write honestly / realistically about polyamory/enm, I'm curious if you have any thoughts on what's different about portraying monogamy or nonmonogamy in books, romance or erotica or otherwise.

I'm trying to read examples but it's hard to find examples that fit the niche I'm looking at. Excuse me if this question is nonsense, it's the cluster headaches.

I'm sorry to hear you've been dealing with all that and solidarity on the cluster headaches. But I'm glad you're finding an outlet through writing! And I hope you're happy with an open-ended ramble in response because oh boy, there's a lot I could talk about and I could probably do a better job of answering this sort of thing with more specific questions, but let's see where we end up.

There's definitely a big difference between writing polyamory/ENM (ethical non-monogamy) and what people often expect from monogamous love stories.

Just even from a purely sales and marketing standpoint, the moment you write anything polyamorous (or even just straight up LGBTQIA+ without the ENM) you're going to get considered closer to being erotica/obscene than hetero romances. It's an unfair bias, but it's one that exists in our society. But also the Amazon algorithm and their shitty, shitty human censors. Especially the ones that work the weekends. (Talking to you, Carlos 🖕.)

So not only do you start out hyper-aware that you're writing something that is highly stigmatized or fetishized (at least I'm hyper-aware) but that you are also writing for a niche market that is starving for positive content because the content that exists is either limited, not what they want, or is problematic in some fashion i.e. highly stigmatized or fetishy. And even then, the wants, desires, and expectations of the community you're writing for are complex and wildly varied and hard to fit into an easy formula.

When writing monogamous love stories, there is a set expectation that’s really hard to fuck up once you know it. X person meets Y. Attraction happens, followed by some sort of minor conflict/resolution. Other plot may happen. A greater catalyst involving personal growth for both parties (hopefully) happens. Follow the equation to its ultimate resolution and achieve Happily Ever After.

But writing ENM is... a lot more difficult, if only because of the pure scope of possibilities. You could try to follow the same equation and shove three (or more) people into it, but it rarely works well. Usually because if you’re doing it right, you won’t have enough room in a single character arc to allow for enough growth, and if ENM requires anything in abundance, it’s room to grow.

And this post is huge so I’m going to put the rest under a cut :)

There's also a common refrain in certain online polyam/ENM circles that triads and throuples are overrepresented in media and they may be right to some extent. Personally, I believe the issue isn't that triads and throuples are overrepresented, but that there is such minuscule positive rep of ethical non-monogamy in general, that the few tiny instances we have of triads in media make it seem like it's "everywhere" when in actuality, it's still quite rare and the media we do have often veers into Unicorn Hunter fetish porn. Which is its own problematic thing. And just to be clear, I’m not including this part to dissuade you from writing "falling back-asswards into threesomes." If anything, I need more of it and would hook it directly into my brain if I could. I'm just throwing it out there into the void in the hope that someone will take the thought and run with it, lol.

I’d love to see more polyfidelitous rep in fiction, just as much as I’d like to see more relationship anarchy too. More diversity in fiction is always good.

Another thing that differs in writing ENM romance vs conventional monogamy is the feeling like you need to justify yourself. There's a lot of pressure to be as healthy and non-problematic as possible because you are being held to a higher standard of criticism. Both from people from without the ENM communities, and from the people within. Granted, some people don't give a shit and just want to read some fantastic porn (valid) but there are those who will cheerfully read Fifty Shades of Bullshit and call it "spicy" and "romantic," then turn around and call the most tooth-rottingly-sweet-fluff about a queer platonic polycule heresy. That's just the way the world works.

(Pro-tip for author life in general: never read your own reviews; that way madness lies. I glimpsed one the other day that tagged Hunger Pangs as “ethical cheating” and just about had an aneurism.)

And while that feeling of needing to justify yourself comes from a valid place of being excluded from the table of socially accepted norms, it can also be to the detriment of both the story and the subject matter at hand. I've seen some authors bend so far over backward to avoid being problematic in their portrayal of ENM, they end up being problematic for entirely different reasons. Usually because they give such a skewed, rose-tinted perspective of how things work, it ends up coming off as well... a bit culty and obnoxious tbh.

“Look how enlightened we are, freed from the trappings of monogamy and jealousy! We’re all so honest and perfect and happy!”

Yeah, uhu, sure Jan. Except here’s the thing, not all jealousy is bad. How you act on it can be, but jealousy itself is an important tool in the junk drawer that is the range of human emotion. It can clue us in to when we’re feeling sad or neglected, which in turn means we should figure out why we’re feeling those things. Sometimes it’s because brains are just like that and anxiety is a thing. Other times it’s because our needs are actually being neglected and we are in an unhealthy situation we need to remedy. You gotta put the work in to figure it out. Which is the same as any style of relationship, whether it’s mono, polyam or whatever flavor of ENM you subscribe to* And sometimes you just gotta be messy, because that’s how humans are. Being afraid to show that mess makes it a dishonest portrayal, and it also robs you of some great cannon fodder for character development.

Which brings me in a roundabout way to my current pet peeve in how certain writers take monogamous ideals and apply them to ENM, sometimes without even realizing it. The “Find the Right Person and Settle Down” trope.

Often, in this case, ENM or polyamory is treated as a phase. Something you mature out of with age or until you meet “The One(tm).” This is, of course, an attempt to follow the mono style formula expected in most romances. And while it might appeal to many readers, it’s uh, actually quite insulting.

To give an example, I am currently seeing this a lot in the Witcher fandom.

Fanon Netflix!Jaskier is everyone's favorite ethical slut until he meets Geralt then woops, wouldn’t you know, he just needed to find The One(tm). Suddenly, all his other sexual and romantic exploits or attractions mean nothing to him. Let's watch as he throws away a core aspect of his personality in favor of a man.

Yeah... that sure showed those societal norms...

If I were being generous, I’d say it’s a poor attempt at showing New Relationship Euphoria and how wrapped up people can become in new relationships. But honestly, it’s monogamous bias eking its way in to validate how special and unique the relationship is. Because sometimes people really can’t think of any other way to show how important and valid a relationship is without defining it in terms of exclusivity. Which is a fundamental misunderstanding of how ENM works for a lot of people and invalidates a lot of loving, serious and long-term relationships.

This is not to say that some polyam/poly-leaning people can't be happy in monogamous relationships! I am! (I consider myself ambiamorous. I'm happy with either monogamy or polyamory, it really just depends on the relationship(s) I’m in.) But I also don't regard my relationship with a mono partner as "settling down" or "growing up." It's just a choice I made to be with a person I love, and it's a valid one. Just like choosing to never close yourself off to multiple relationships is valid. And I wish more people realized that, or rather, I wish the people writing these things knew that :P

Anyway, I think I’ve rambled enough. I hope this collection of incoherent thoughts actually makes some sense and might be useful.

----

*A good resource book that doesn't pull any punches in this regard is Polysecure by Jessica Fern. It's a wonderfully insightful read that explores the messier side of consensual non-monogamy, especially with how it can be affected by trauma or inter-relationship conflicts. But it also shows how to take better steps toward healthy, ethical non-monogamy (a far better job than More Than Two**) and conflict resolution, making it a valuable resource both for someone who is a part of this relationship style***, but also for writers on the outside looking in who might have a very simple or misguided idea of what conflict within polyam/ENM relationships might look like, vs traditional monogamous ones.

** The author of More Than Two has been accused of multiple accounts of abuse within the polyamorous community, with many of his coauthors having spoken out about the gaslighting and emotional and psychological damage they experienced while in a relationship with him. A lot of their stories are documented here: https://www.itrippedonthepolystair.com/ (warning: it is not light material and deals with issues of abuse, gaslighting, and a whole other plethora of Yikes.) While some people still find More Than Two helpful reading, there are now, thankfully, much, much better resources out there.

*** Some people consider polyam/ENM to be part of their identity or orientation, while others view it as a relationship style.It largely depends on the individual.

#long post #writing #ethical non-monogamy #relationship styles #relationship models in fiction #also that kindle link is an affiliate link #because fuck giving amazon free recs

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itsclydebitches · 3 years

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Why do people get hung up on whether a gay person in media is a good or bad representation of them? I'm gay and I can tell you we aren't all the same? Being gay is our 1 common trait. So as long as they're gay then you've done it. Gay people can be kind, mean, racist, open, kinky, reserved, shy, outgoing, sexist, and literally anything else under the human experience.

Because I am perpetually hungry, let's tell a story about cookies.

You are a bright-eyed, optimistic, baker in the making. Your goal is to wow the world with your culinary skills, so of course you head to The Best Baking School for your degree. Over the course of your studies you learn how to perfect a thousand different cakes, an equal number of pies, and more versions of brownies than most would even assume exist. But cookies... oh, cookies are your passion! You can't wait to learn about the wealth of cookies you can make too. Then, sure enough, that part of your education finally arrives.

Funny thing is though, it's just chocolate chip.

Surely there's been some mistake? The cookie experience is vast and nuanced! Why in the world are your instructors — supposedly the best in the world — reducing cookies to a single class about baking chocolate chip and chocolate chip alone? Hell, why are cookies so sparse in the curriculum as a whole? You're never asked to bake them as a demonstration, or practice with them, and they're definitely not a given across everyone else's baking experience. Cakes, pies, and brownies... they're the default. Cookies are comparatively rare and when you do get to study them, everyone is super focused on the chocolate chip.

Then you graduate and head out into the world, only to find that pretty much everyone is as cookie-blind as your school. A few years back you never would have found cookies in the average grocery store and yeah, the fact that there's a cookie section now is great, but it's, uh... all chocolate chip! Many bakeries still don't carry cookies at all, but when they do it's - again - chocolate chip. Chocolate chip out in restaurants. Chocolate chip at the bake sale. Your friend invites you over and proudly presents a massive sweets tray that includes a single, sad looking, chocolate chip cookie. They beam at you in pride. Isn't it so great?

"Uh..." you say. "Well..."

Every once in a while someone will switch out milk chocolate for dark chocolate, or add nuts alongside chocolate chips. One bakery was even crazy enough to exclude chocolate chips entirely! Crazy according to the press, anyway. Because for years now you've been shaking your head, wondering what exactly is so progressive about realizing that sugar cookies exist. You've found other bakers interested in cookies and, by god, there are thousands. So many flavors! Gluten free and allergy conscious! Someone even made a sweets tray that was predominantly cookies, can you believe it? The problem is, almost none of them are mainstream. Your friend baking cookies out of their personal kitchen is doing fantastic work, but their baking doesn't have the impact that those grocery chains and established bakeries do. Their work isn't going to fix your school's curriculum. Too many people still think that cookies are exotic somehow. They're not the default. And when they do acknowledge their existence, it's chocolate chip over and over. Until one of them adds those nuts and suddenly the whole country is losing its mind about how inspired, creative, progressive their baking is. Meanwhile, you're ready to scream because that baker doesn't even know that something as "exotic" as a gingersnaps exist!

The worst part? Most of these cookies are... bad. Like they exist, yeah, but good god most don't taste good. And that's the whole point of a cookie?? What is the point of buying cookies if the cookies themselves are awful? You go to these bakeries, these restaurants, your friend's house, and you try the very limited cookies on offer, only to find that they've been sloppily baked. Doesn't anyone care that the baker burned their cookies to a crisp? That another straight up forgot to add sugar? This one dropped his on the floor and still tried to serve it to you! But the overall sense is that you should be grateful for getting any cookies at all. "That cookie is an offense to my taste buds," you say and people shake their head at you, disappointed. "I liked the taste of it," one says. "If you don't like it, go buy a different cookie!" Well... easier said than done. "It's not that bad," another says, shrugging in defeat. "I mean yeah, I don't really like it, and the baker stopped making them two years ago... but I'm just happy to have had any cookie at all, you know?" You do know, but that doesn't mean it's any less frustrating. You look at the hundreds of cakes available, these bakers spending decades perfecting their recipes, and wish cookies had even a fraction of that work put into them. You find people who agree with you, absolutely, but there's this this prevailing sense that a cookie is a cookie. Any cookie will do. Supposedly.

Except go long enough and you feel like you're ready to lose your mind. You take some poor person by the shoulders and go, "Doesn't this bother you? Doesn't this make you furious? There is more to the cookie world than these three flavors, 90% of which is chocolate chip! And we deserve well-made cookies, not the crap they've been upholding as the next culinary masterpiece!"

But this person just shakes their head. "Well of course there's more to cookies than three flavors. There's a huge variety of cookies! I know that."

"Yes, but the world isn't selling that variety."

"Of course they are! Just last week I had an oatmeal raisin. That's amazing!"

"Yeah and how many years did it take you to find that?"

"Well..."

"And how did that oatmeal raisin cookie taste?"

Your prisoner pulls a face. "Ugh, not good. Oatmeal raisin is definitely not for me. It's hard as a rock! I really don't understand why someone would want to eat that on a regular basis."

"But it's not supposed to be hard as a rock!" you cry, waving your arms. "That's the problem! Oatmeal raisin is so goddamn rare and then the one time we get it, it was badly baked. Of course people are turned off by it. Everyone who already loves oatmeal raisin is getting pissed because their favorite cookie is misrepresented, they're unlikely to see more of them now, and everyone is still serving the most tasteless chocolate chip cookies I've ever had, acting like this is the pinnacle of cookie baking! Do you even know that a macron exists?"

The person pats your hand consolingly. "Of course I do. My roommate's sister's boyfriend used to bake macrons, you know. I don't know why you're so hung up on this. Cookies can be whatever the baker wants them to be. Provided they're a flat-ish sweet cake, they're still a cookie!"

You hang your head, giving up. "Yes, they can be so many things, but they're not. Let me know if you ever find a bakery actually making the variety you keep acknowledging exists. Bonus points if those cookies are edible. My soul if they're delicious, as a cookie should be."

"You know," they say, still patting your hand. "There's a bakery making chocolate chip with dark chocolate next year. Everyone is talking about it. You should think about buying one before they take it off the menu!"

You contemplate just walking into the ocean.

Now, incredibly long metaphor concluded... switch out "cookies" for "queer rep"! The representation matters because no, just making them gay isn't enough right now. You're right that queer people can be anything under the sun, but right now media isn't providing us with that variety. It's not enough to acknowledge that such variety exists, it actually has to make it into our books and onto our screen. Taking just characters who identify as gay and putting aside the HUGE variety of other identities for a moment (of which we are mostly lacking in terms of rep), where are the gay asexuals? The gay people of color? The disabled gays? Trans gays? Did your gay character appear for just a handful of episodes? Were they killed off? Are they nothing more than a stereotype or comic relief? Is this the only gay character in your entire story? We need to ask questions like this because though gay people can be anything under the sun, our media landscape has only shown a miniscule portion of that variety.

Today, even in 2021, our representation of gay people is still pretty limited to:

You are only coded as gay and evil

You are only coded as gay and queerbaited

You are canonically gay, but a cis, ablebodied, white person

You are canonically gay, but were written terribly/killed off/punished by the narrative/generally making the real gay people watching you feel awful about their identity

You are canonically gay, but you're not human. Gotta other the queerness by making you an alien/robot/fantasy being

You are canonically gay and that's your entire existence. There is one (1) narrative of how you knew by the time you were four, never questioned your identity after that, suffered through a family that rejected you, and now all your major arcs revolve around being gay. You are gay and that is it.

Despite being a list of six, that's still incredibly limiting. Are there exceptions to such a list? Always, but that doesn't mean the list isn't still dominating. We can look at any individual gay character and say, "Of course they can be evil/white/killed off/a joke/etc. because gay people can be anything at all," but when we look at the trends, when we look at ALL the media together, we see that gay people aren't actually depicted as being anything... they're depicted as being these handful of things, severely limiting how gayness is represented. Bad rep. If you hit up the bakery and question why there's only versions of chocolate chip available yeah, the baker can go, "But cookies can be any flavor! Including chocolate chip!" They are not, technically, wrong. The problem is not that chocolate chip exists, but that chocolate chip dominates and other flavors are rare, ignored entirely, or baked so badly it's actively damaging to that flavor as a whole. Yeah, your gay character can be mean. Or kinky. Or murdered by the story. But when so many gay characters are mean and kinky and murdered by their stories — when you're not getting other versions to balance that out and gay characters are still rare enough that it's just 1-2 characters trying to carry representation for an entire franchise — you start realizing that the claim of "Gay people can be anything else under the human experience" is an easy way to shut down the conversation of whether that variety actually exists in our storytelling yet.

It's not enough for the baker to acknowledge that yeah, of course there are hundreds of cookie flavors and of course cookies taste great! They've actually got to learn how to bake them properly and fill up their store with them.

#queer #mymetas

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lais-a-ramos · 4 years

Text

On Lovecraft Country and the way the narrative presents queerness

"No masters or kings when the ritual begins

There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin

In the madness and soil of that sad earthly scene

Only then I am human

Only then I am clean"

Hozier, Take Me to Church

oh, boy...

i knew some of these deaths could happen in the finale, but i definetely wasn't prepared for any of this, wow.

i guess that, with the events of the finale, including atticus' death, there really is no point in getting the show renewed for a season 2, as as i hoped and wished before, because all of the conflicts that were set up were resolved. i mean, there's always the possibility of using time-travel to do a retcon and bring all the dead characters back, or, at least, two of the protagonists and the villain, but, maybe it would take too many alterations in the narrative, because it seems like the whole thing was planned for a mini-series.

so, now, all we have left is to do a breakdown of what worked and what didn't in lovecraft country's limited series run.

i think that, overall, the message of black ppl taking back the power of ancestry that was stripped from them by white supremacy and structural racism was well-done, and the symbolism was very well-crafted in the final takedown of the season's main villain, which was a representation of how the racism based on indifference born out of white privilege is almost as bad as the racism based on pure hate and despise, which is a valid message, considering the former is a bystander to the abuses and rise to power of the latter.

although i still find the timing was poorly chosen because, well, as of now, all over the world, it's not white ppl who dub themselves "liberal" or "progressive" and claim themselves to not be racist but refuse to act anti-racist that present an actual threat to our human rights, but literal, actual fascists and neo nazis...there are bigger fish to fry now...

but i digress...

on the final score, i guess that when it comes to queer/LGBTQ+ representation, the show fell actually felt real short for a product that crafted so well the race issues, proving that there is still a lot to go before we get to see intersecting identities being portrayed in media the same compex way they exist in the real world.

no, lovecraft country is not guilty of queerbaiting, unlike some of the same ppl in fandom that are the firsts to either erase the half of a couple that is a BIPOC or to deny a canon cis het biracial ship to hype up a fanon white wlw ship and other problematic stuff plenty of times in LGBTQ+ fandom spaces might say.

but that doesn't mean that the treatment of LGBTQ+ issues was satisfying or can be considered good rep, and it actually repeats some of the same tired tropes about queerness and blackness.

while we can say that the show did a relatively good job with montrose as an individual, the same can't be said of the other characters and the final messages.

like, for example, introducing a trans/non-binary indigenous, the Arawak two-spirt Yahima, only to kill them on the next episode was insensitive, to say the least.

while it's true that misha green apologized for the mistake, and said she and the writers tried to make a point that even oppressed groups are capable of oppression, the final score was that a trans/non-binary character was introduced as a plot-device and brutally murdered before having even a chance to properly develop.

in other words, used as a prop.

in a world in which trans ppl are brutally murdered at alarming rates, and most of the victims are BIPOC trans ppl, that is something that we can't let it slide just because the general message of the show was good for cis het black ppl.

the same can be said on the treatment of sammy in the narrative.

while it's true that montrose being aggressive and acting the way he did, pushing ppl he cared about away and shunning every chance of vulnerability due to internalized homophobia, toxic masculinity and misogyny, as this very interesting critique by amani marie hamed of nerdist pointed out, his characterization nonetheless falls into the same old stereotype in american culture of accusing black ppl of falling behind when it comes to queer acceptance and associating black masculinity with homophobia.

also, the author of the article says it better, but, overall, sammy's existence ends up being just another plot device, serving to say to the audience that the producers and writers know that queer ppl existed in the 50's, but, at the same time, repeating some of the same tropes as usual, like associating being queer with being clandestine and deviant instead of showing it as a natural thing that was perceived as deviant at the time, as we can see by that scene of sammy having a sexual encounter in the alley behind his bar.

the author even mentions that queer ppl overall had houses, and most of the encounters actually happened there, and that scene reinforces the idea that queerness is inherently animalistic.

the article also points out how sammy is mostly there just to be shutted out, first by montrose and latter even atticus, and, ends up being another prop to lift montrose to deuteragonist status, being rejected and abused by montrose solely to highlight tic's father journey with his personal issues that apparently he simply wrapped up in a span of 2 episodes.

the fact that sammy was a also a more feminine gay man, even participating in ball culture as a drag queen, and yet most of his appearences involved him being degraded or shut out or overall mistreated by montrose, even tic, and that scene in which atticus forgives montrose after he revealed he never acted on his homosexuality and cheated on tic's mom, even though it's implied she did cheat on him with his brother george, just reinforces the idea it's ok for black and brown men to be gay, as long as they are not THAT GAY™️.

the introduction of thomas in episode 1x09 only to be murdered in the riots is another example of how queerness seem to come with a price in this show if you act on it.

once again, a gay character was introduced in the narrative to further montrose's pain and trauma.

and his introduction was absolutely not necessary, because being a survivor of a massacre like the tulsa riots and a survivor of parental physical abuse is already was already enough for making tic and the audience begin to emphatize with montrose's pain, there was no need to kill another queer character just for that.

not to say we should agree with everything the nerdist article says, of course.

at times, it felt like the author was saying that addressing these issues in the black community is a problem on itself, and that is definetely not the solution.

but, when we consider the setting of a limited series with a plot-driven approach to the scripts, the way the topic is addressed ends up being superficial and rushed, and what could have been a delicate approach to a complicated man discovering his sexuality if the show was an on-going series, ends up being just a narrative built to put montrose in the spotlight in an attempt of getting a few emmy nominations for outstanding performances, and that's about it.

now, what really serves to cement the LGBTQ+/queer representation in lovecrat country as a disservice is the treatment of ruby, christina and their relationship.

i did a few metas explaining christina's and ruby's characterizations, including one i posted before the finale started explaining why ruby was so important to queer black and feminine-aligned nbs being a dark-skinned fat black queer woman discovering her sexuality and figuring out there was more to life than the social roles that were pushed into her, and how the parallels between her and christina, two different women separated by race and class but with the common feeling of being interrupted by social restraints that binded them, were a way for a character like ruby to be treated by the narrative the same way white women get to be treated in fantasy stories, as someone worthy of being courted and romanced as a light-skinned and thin black woman like her sister leti.

but with that finale, and the way the whole thing played out, with not only christina and ruby dead, but also with christina killing ruby, felt, ironically, like the very same trope that's been the norm for queer characters for a long time.

if we consider the tropes of the genre the show and the source material draw inspiration from, pulp fiction magazines, a medium that was very popular until the rise of the cinema and TV in the 50's and 60's that also served as an inspiration for them, then we know that in this medium some of the harmful tropes about queerness that exist until this day were particularly prevalent, including that of the queercoded villains.

to talk about this, i'm going to refer to this amazing article by tricia ennis on the history of queercoding for syfy wire.

first, a definition:

"queer coding, much as the name suggests, refers to a process by which characters in a piece of fictional media seem — or code — queer. this is usually determined by a series of characteristics that are traditionally associated with queerness, such as more effeminate presentations by male characters or more masculine ones from female characters. these characters seem somehow less than straight, and so we associate those characters with queerness — even if their sexual orientation is never a part of their story."

between the hays code in cinema going from 1934 to 1968, the comics code authority in the comics industry from 1954 to the early 21st century (with dc comics and archie comics being the last to break with it in 2011, mind you), the code of practices for television broadcasting from 1952 to 1983 and its predecessor for radio NAB code of ethics, the authors all over mass media couldn't approach the topic of queerness and portray openly and proud queer characters under the risk of being persecuted by the censors, and so, begin to hide queer chracters under the disguise of subtext.

and given the content creators couldn't show any form of positive queer/LGBTQ+ representation under the risk of being punished by the censors, the alternative they found was to portray the queer characters as the villains or antagonists or degenerates, and punish them with death.

the syfy wire article says it better than i ever could:

"even dangerous LGBTQ tropes rose out of this time period, as the depictions of pulp noir femme fatales and other deadly women rose in popularity. these women were usually written as promiscuous and sexually devious, both with men and sometimes with women. they were also evil and usually met their end as a result of their sins. While depictions of LGBTQ characters were frowned upon, depictions of them in this specifically negative light were not. you were not endorsing an “alternative lifestyle” if your gay characters always met an untimely demise. Instead, they were merely paying for their poor choices. this trope would eventually give way to what we now refer to as 'Bury Your Gays.' "

and the thing is, all those censorship laws are over by now, but the tropes/clichés that arised on that era are still prevalent in pop culture 'till this day, consumed by the audiences and reproduced by content creators, in the industry or in fan spaces, whether they are aware of said trope/clichés or not.

now, that is where ruby, christina and their affair on the show enter.

to explain how problematic and harmful the way these characters have been portrayed is, and what kind of message it sends about black queerness, i first have to explain christina's function on the story.

christina, as a character, was basically the texbook pulp noir femme-fatale, checking most of the boxes of the tv tropes description of the trope, from the "red equals evil and sin" imagery to being a wild card, that character who changes sides according to their own desires and individualistic goals.

in her specific case, helping the white supremacists and the black heroes alike in her pursue for unlimited power to protect herself from the oppression that comes with being a white woman, particularly a wealthy one, in which the very same presumption of innocence that gives them privilege over BIPOC is used to infantilize them and strip them from their agency, putting their bodies and choices under the tutelage of cis het white men.

so, her function on the show was basically to manipulate the characters on the two sides alike.

and that is where the problems in queer representation come in, because, to manipulate them, she acts as a sensual seductress.

and what does the script uses to highlight that this is a character willing to go to the most immoral places to achieve her goals? it makes christina a sexually fluid and gender fluid character.

that is basically playing a move straight from the hays code era.

not only does the show plays christina's sexual and gender fluidity as her being "freaky" and a proof of her deviant nature, but it makes her seduction of ruby as a central part of the scheme that positions her as the main villain of the show.

this portrayal of christina as a textbook femme-fatale with a touch of white feminism is already very problematic on its own, especially when we consider her death and how brutal it was, because, yes, while it's true she is privileged because she is white and wealthy, she is still a woman and a queer one at that, and giving her the same traditional treatment for femme-fatales in pulp fiction ends up reinforcing harmful stereotypes about gender and sexuality.

but, when we consider what it means for ruby as a character, it gets WAY worse.

ruby is a character that's been shown to feel very frustrated about the ways in which societal structures of power interfere in her life, not only on a professional level, but even on a personal level as well, making her feel "interrupted".

dealing with the same issues that all black women and feminine-aligned nbs who don't fit into the eurocentric standards of femininity and of beauty do, and not matching the criteria for being hypersexualized by society as the black women considered conventionally pretty -- with thin bodies like the white women or hourglass body frames, being light-skinned and so on --, ruby has her humanity stripped from her because everyone expects her to be stronger than it's humanly possible.

everyone seems to expect something of her at home, her younger sister took advantage of her money for years, and not only all of her goals in the professional realm seem to be frustrated by social structures of oppression, but even her relationship goals as well, given that most of the men that she gets involved with, whether they are black or white, seem to believe they have the right to abandon her and treat her like trash because she doesn't feel a thing and is "strong" enough.

ruby feels frustrated and tired, and she has every single right to do so, because, as what happens to most black women and feminine-aligned nbs, she is disrespected and disregarded by everyone, white and black alike.

so, when christina comes in with an offer of improving ruby's life with magic, of course she takes the opportunity.

and it seemed like the show was willing to deal with the moral complexities of christina's shapeshifting potion and validating ruby's feelings, or at least, sort of validating.

but, by killing her at the end, it just played out as if ruby's feelings meant she was merely a traitor to the race, and not a woman who was tired of feeling frustrated with all of these impossible obstacles society sets for black women and feminine-aligned nbs, especially dark-skinned and fat ones like her, and justified in her anger and frustration.

she did everything right and accomplished nothing, and, when she finally decided to rebel and focus on herself for a change, she met her demise.

but that is just the tip of iceberg, really.

what makes this situation with ruby so frustrating is the fact that, when the show presented christina's queerness as another sign she was "on the wrong side of the tracks" and a villian that should be defeated by the black heroes, which consist in a family, the narrative is implying that a person has to choose between their queerness, on one side, and their blackness and community on the other.

of course, one might argue that the fact montrose was turned into a gay man himself in the adaptation prevents this from happening. but, when we consider montrose was forgiven by tic only after reinforcing he never did cheated on dora and acted on his queerness and lived his gayness, when he really had every single right to do so, especially because it's implied dora slept with his brother george and the three of them knew she was just montrose's beard, then we have the message that it's ok to be queer as long as you don't act on your queerness at all.

there is a part in the review for nerdist that i mentioned above, in which the author says that one of the book's best qualities was that "the source material also illustrates the importance of family and community ties between Black protagonists", and that the TV show ruins it when it "introduces abuse, alcoholism, and family dysfunction, and strips Black characters of their own magic."

that is a part of the article, published in october 14 2020, that now no longer makes sense after the finale, because that message is there.

but, the actual problem is that the ideas of family and community shouldn't be taken for granted bc they are always under political dispute, and are oftenly used to reinforce backward messages when it comes to gender and sexuality, serving as a tool for the control of the bodies and authonomy of ppl of various marginalized groups and intersecctions, including women, BIPOC and queer ppl alike.

while these things are not inherently good or bad, and they are also part of the culture and identity for plenty of BIPOC ethnical identities, the concepts of family and community are usually weaponized by conservatives and used to justify things like queerphobia and the restrictions over reproductive rights.

queer ppl in all walks of life and skin colors all over the world have to deal with plenty of conflicts about coming out because, by deciding to live their own truth, they can never know for sure whether coming out will put them at odds with their families and community until they dare to do so.

so, ruby's dillemma for not knowing what to choose, her family or a life with christina, plays out as the type of experience queer ppl have to deal on a daily basis, and when we consider the intersection with race/ethnicity, it gets even more cruel because our gender identities and sexual/romantic/aesthetic orientations, that are natural parts of us, make us being invisibilized and silenced in our own cultures and feel like we have to give up on our own communities in order to be able to live our queerness.

there are few things more gut-wrenching than that feeling of fear that you might be disowned by your family and relatives and your community -- whether is it a neighbourhood, a village, a small town etc -- because a part of yourself is considered at odds with your heritage.

and when we consider all the christian imagery in the show, the final result is a really troubling one.

while it's true that being christian and believing in god doesn't authomatically makes anyone a bigot (i actually still retain some of the beliefs i was raised into as a catholic latin-american), it's also true that now, more than ever, we can't ignore science, including history.

the entire way in which they referred to magic as a devil's work was very troubling and evocates the same discriminative rethoric that white european colonizers used to justify the destruction of the ancient old religions and beliefs of BIPOC in their own homeland, the ancient culture of our ancestors, and also the oppression of peasant women in europe.

while we can't generalize, given each culture had its own particularities, there's an agreement in the scientific community that, overall, the cultures of the first nations and indigenous folks from the american continent, the african continent, the asian continent and oceania/pacific islands were far more accepting of different manifestations of queerness.

that means that queerphobia was part of the colonial project, once the traditional family values of christianity were used as a tool for the white colonizers to regulate the bodies and sexuality of the colonized and keep them under control.

and that is why the association of these ideals of family and community as inherent to blackness ends up being problematic, because we can't discuss racism without discussing colonization, and we can't discuss colonization without considering the ways in which queerphobia and religion were used as tools of colonial oppression.

the worst part is that, when it comes to ruby, the producers and writers really didn't need to do kill her at all.

and while the show did right in not showing how christina killed ruby, sparing the audience from watching another black body being brutalized, it's also true they didn't have to kill the character to get her out of the way from the final confrontation between christina and tic's family.

they literally went and changed her background from her book counterpart and made the woman a musician, and a blueswoman at that.

all they needed was to have her share a goodbye scene with christina the same way she had with leti, saying that she wanted to be with christina but couldn't fight her family and friends like that, grab a copy from the safe travel negro guide and set off in a bus to travel all over the U.S., singing very sad blues songs about falling in love with a white devil once.

that's all the producers and writers needed, to use the "sent in a bus" trope.

but the choice was to portray ruby as a character facing the consequences of following her desires , which ends up feeling like a punishment for a dark-skinned and fat queer black woman for daring to question the position society has placed her because of who she is.

this is in no way an attempt to "cancel" the producers or the writers, because a) their work is still important as a team of mostly black creators and b) canceling doesn't seem to have significant consequences, and seems to lead only to more social media wars than anything else.

but now that it finally seems diversity is getting more space in media, this type of discussion gets more important.

there is a slow increase on more representation of queer/LGBTQ+ characters in media and more productions involving queer/LGBTQ+ creatives, but, most of the time, the characters and are white, or, when there are biracial couples, the characters of color are just token minorities, and the same happens with the creatives involved in the production.

there is a slow increase in BIPOC characters representation in media and more productions involving BIPOC as creatives, but, most of the time, the characters are cis heterosexual, and the same happens with the creatives involved in the production.

but, for pop culture and media to be truly diverse, there has to be more space for the narratives of ppl that exist and belong to the two groups to raise our voices and be heard, whether is it in the entertainment industry, society at large or even in fandom spaces.

because she shouldn't be forced to pick between one identity over the other.

our existences shouldn't be interrupted just because society doesn't know how to deal with them.

and if that make us sinners, then so be it.

#lovecraft country #ruby baptiste #christina braithwhite #ruby x christina #rubtina #rutina #montrose freeman #lgbtqiap+#lgbtq representation #queer representation #poc representation #woc representation #moc representation #black women representation #representation in media #representation in fiction #tv representation #it's ok for non-BIPOC queer folks to reblog #and it's ok for non-queer BIPOC folks to reblog

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jamestaylorswift · 4 years

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My giant goes with me wherever I go: a study of the geographic metanarrative of folklore

This topic has been rattling around in my brain ever since I first heard folklore and I think it’s endlessly fascinating. Cue this lengthy but (hopefully) intriguing piece.

I’m afraid the title may not be an accurate reflection of this essay’s content, so here’s a preview of talking points: geography, existence, metanarrative, making sense of the theme of death, the “peace”/“hoax”/“the lakes” trio, history/philosophy, and exactly one paragraph of rep/Lover analysis (as a treat).

I make the standard disclaimer that analysis is by definition subjective. Additionally, many thanks and credit to anyone else who has written analysis of folklore. I am sure my opinions have been influenced by yours, even subconsciously.

Questions, comments, and suggestions are always welcome, and thank you for taking the time to read :)

——

“Traveling is a fool’s paradise. We owe to our first journeys the discovery that place is nothing. At home I dream that at Naples, at Rome, I can be intoxicated with beauty and lose my sadness. I pack my trunk, embrace my friends, embark on the sea, and at last wake up in Naples, and there beside me in the stern Fact, the sad self, unrelenting, identical, that I fled from. I seek the Vatican, and the palaces. I affect to be intoxicated with sights and suggestions, but I am not intoxicated. My giant goes with me wherever I go.”

Ralph Waldo Emerson

——

If Taylor Swift’s music is anything, it is highly geographic. Taylor has been a country, pop, and now alternative artist, yet a storyteller through and through—one with a special knack for developing the aesthetic of songs and even entire records through location. The people and places she writes about seem to mutually breathe life into each other.

It is plausible that Taylor, as a young storyteller, developed this talent by using places as veritable muses just like she did anything else. Furthermore, her confessional storytelling became much more geographic as she shifted to pop because of factors including (though certainly not limited to) purchasing real estate, traveling more, writing in a genre that canonically centers coastal cities, and dating individuals with their own established homes. The geographic motif in her work is so identifiable that all of the corresponding details are—for better or worse—commensurate to autobiography.

However, folklore is not autobiographical in the way that most understand her other albums to be. The relationship between people and places in folklore is likewise much less symbiotic.

The first two songs on the record illustrate this. We are at bare minimum forced to associate the characters of Betty and James with New York: the lyrics about the High Line imply a fraction of their relationship took place in this city. Even so, this does not imply Betty or James ever permanently resided in New York, or that Betty is in New York at the moment she is narrating the story of “cardigan.” Taylor places far more emphasis on James and the nostalgia of youth, with “I knew you” repeated as a hook, to develop the emotional tone of the song. Rhode Island also comes to life in “the last great american dynasty” because of Rebekah Harkness’ larger-than-life character. But Taylor, following Rebekah’s antagonism, states multiple times throughout the song that the person should be divorced from the place. folklore locations are never so revered that they gain the vibrancy of literal human life. Taylor refrains from saying a person is a place in the same way that she has said that she is New York or her lover is the West Village.

For an album undeniably with the most concrete references to location, it is highly irregular—even confusing, given that personification is such a powerful storytelling device—that Taylor does not equate location with personal ethos.

Regurgitating the truism that geography equals autobiography proves quite limiting for interpreting Taylor’s work. How, then, should geography influence our understanding of folklore?

I submit that the stories in folklore are not ‘about’ places but ‘of’ places which are not real. Taylor’s autobiographical fiction makes the settings of the songs similarly fictionalized, metaphorical, and otherwise symbolic of something much more than geography. It is this phenomenon which emotionally and philosophically distinguishes folklore from the rest of her oeuvre.

——

As a consequence of Taylor’s unusual treatment of location, real places in folklore become signposts for cultural-geographic abstractions. Reality is simply a set of worldbuilding training wheels.

Prominent geographic features define places, which define settings. The world of folklore is built from what I’ve dubbed as four archetypal settings: the Coastal Town, the Suburb, the City, and the Outside World.

Each has a couple defining geographic features:

Coastal Town: water, cliffs/a lookout

Suburb: homes, town

City: public areas, social/nightlife/entertainment venues

The Outside World serves as the logical complement of the other three settings.

Understanding that real location in folklore is neither interchangeable nor synonymous with setting is crucial. Rhode Island is like the Coastal Town, but the two settings are not one and the same. The Suburb is an idyllic mid-America setting like Nashville, St. Louis, or Pennsylvania; it is all of those places and none of them at the same time. The City may be New York City, but it is certainly not New York City in the way that Taylor has ever sung about New York City before. The Outside World is just away.

Put simply, folklore is antithetical to Taylor’s previous geographic doctrine. While we are not precluded from, for instance, imagining the City as New York City, we also cannot and should not be pigeonholed into doing so.

Note:

This album purports to embody the stereotypically American folkloric tradition. “Outside” means “anywhere that isn’t America” because the imagery and associations of the first three cultural-geographic settings indeed are very distinctly American.

While Nashville and St. Louis are relatively big cities, they are still orders of magnitude smaller than New York and LA, the urban centers that Taylor normally regards as big cities. In context of this essay, the former locations are Suburban.

In this essay, the purpose of the term ‘of’ is simply to replace the more strict term ‘about.’ ‘Of’ denotes significant emotion tied to a place, usually because of significant time spent there either in the past or present (tense matters). Not all songs are ‘of’ places—it may be ambiguous where action takes place—and some songs can be ‘of’ multiple places due to location changing throughout the story. (This does not automatically mean that songs with more than one location are ‘of’ two places. A passing mention of St. Louis does not qualify “the last great american dynasty” as ‘of’ the Suburb, for example.)

Each of the four archetypal settings must instead be understood as an amalgam of the aesthetics of every real location it could be. Setting then exists in conversation with metaphor because we have a shared understanding of what constitutes a generic Suburb, City, or Coastal Town.

Finally, by transitivity, the settings’ metaphorical significance entirely hinges upon the geographic features’ metaphorical significance. This is what Taylor authors.

The next part of the essay is concerned with deciphering geography in folklore per these guiding questions: how is an archetypal feature used as a metaphor? By proxy, what does that say about the setting defined by it? What theme, if any, unites the settings?

The Coastal Town: Water and Cliffs

The Coastal Town is defined by elemental features.

The first (brief) mentions of water occur on the first two tracks:

Roarin’ twenties, tossing pennies in the pool

Leavin’ like a father, running like water

“the last great american dynasty” introduces the setting to which the pool (water) feature belongs, our Rhode Island-like Coastal Town. It also incorporates a larger water feature, the ocean, and suggests the existence of a lookout or cliffs:

Rebekah gave up on the Rhode Island set forever

Flew in all her Bitch Pack friends from the city

Filled the pool with champagne and swam with the big names

They say she was seen on occasion

Pacing the rocks, staring out at the midnight sea

“seven” and “peace” also have brief mentions of water; however, note that these songs remain situated as ‘of’ the Suburb. (More on this later.)

I hit my peak at seven

Feet in the swing over the creek

I was too scared to jump in

But I’m a fire and I'll keep your brittle heart warm

If your cascade, ocean wave blues come

“my tears ricochet” and “mad woman” with their nautical references pertain to the water metaphor:

I didn’t have it in myself to go with grace

And so the battleships will sink beneath the waves

Now I breathe flames each time I talk

My cannons all firin’ at your yacht

“epiphany” also counts, though with the understanding of “beaches” as Guadalcanal this song is ‘of’ the Outside World:

Crawling up the beaches now

“Sir, I think he’s bleeding out”

“this is me trying” and “hoax” reiterate the cliff/lookout geography:

Pulled the car off the road to the lookout

Could’ve followed my fears all the way down

Stood on the cliffside screaming, “Give me a reason”

Finally, “the lakes” features both water and cliffs:

Take me to the lakes, where all the poets went to die

Those Windermere peaks look like a perfect place to cry

While I bathe in cliffside pools

With my calamitous love and insurmountable grief

In folklore, water dovetails with permanent loss.

“epiphany” is the most egregious example. Crawling up the beaches of a war zone proves fatal. “the lakes” describes grieving in water, perhaps for the loss of one’s life because there exist cliffs from which to jump. “this is me trying” and “hoax” mirror that idea. On the other hand, in “peace,” death does not seem to have any connection to falling from a height.

Loss can also mean loss of sanity, such as with the eccentric character of Rebekah Harkness or Taylor as a “mad woman” firing cannons at (presumably) Scooter Braun’s yacht.

Subtler are the losses alluded to in “my tears ricochet” and “seven,” of identity or image and childhood audacity, respectively. And in the opening tracks water is at its most benign, aligned with loss of a relationship that has run its course in one’s young adulthood.

The most fascinating aspect of water in folklore is that it is an aberration from water as the symbol for life/birth/renewal, derived from maternity and the womb. folklore water taketh away, not giveth.

As of now, the greater significance of the Coastal Town—the meaning to which this contradiction alludes—remains to be seen.

The City: Nightlife, Entertainment, and Public Areas

Preeminent in Taylor’s pop work is the City; New York City, Los Angeles, and London are the locations most frequently extolled as Swiftian meccas. This archetypal setting is given a more understated role in folklore.

“cardigan,” ‘of’ the City, illustrates this setting using public environments and nightlife:

Vintage tee, brand new phone

High heels on cobblestones

But I knew you

Dancin’ in your Levi’s

Drunk under a streetlight

I knew you

Your heartbeat on the High Line

Once in twenty lifetimes

To kiss in cars and downtown bars

Was all we needed

“mirrorball” paints the clearest picture of the City’s nightlife/social venues by sheer quantity of lyrics:

I’m a mirrorball

I’ll show you every version of yourself tonight

I’ll get you out on the floor

Shimmering beautiful

You are not like the regulars

The masquerade revelers

Drunk as they watch my shattered edges glisten

And they called off the circus, burned the disco down

“invisible string” briefly mentions a bar:

A string that pulled me

Out of all the wrong arms, right into that dive bar

In addition, “this is me trying” implies that the speaker may currently be at a bar, making the song partially ‘of’ the City:

They told me all of my cages were mental

So I got wasted like all my potential

I was so ahead of the curve, the curve became a sphere

Fell behind all my classmates and I ended up here

Pouring out my heart to a stranger

But I didn’t pour the whiskey

It goes almost without saying that the City at large is alcohol-soaked. Indeed, alcohol will help us understand this location.

Each of the aforementioned songs has a distinct narrator, like Betty in the case of “cardigan” or Taylor herself, at the very least in the case of “mirrorball” or at most all songs besides “cardigan.” And because the narrative character is so strong, I posit that the meaning of this geography is tied to what alcohol reveals about the speakers of the songs themselves.

“invisible string” and “mirrorball” are alike in the fact that the stories extend well beyond or even completely after nightlife. Meeting in a dive bar in “invisible string” is just the catalyst for a relationship that feels fated. Taylor, in her “mirrorball” musing, expresses concern about how she is perceived by someone close to her. Does existing after the fact (of public perception, at an entertainment venue) constitute an authentic existence? Alcohol, apparently a necessary part of City life, predates events which later haunt the speakers. Emotional torment is then what prompts the speakers to recount their stories.

On the other hand, alcohol directly reveals the emotional states of the speakers in “cardigan” and “this is me trying.” “cardigan” is Betty’s sepia-toned memory of her time with James, in which James’ careless, youthful spirit (“dancin’ in your Levi’s, drunk under a streetlight” and “heartbeat on the High Line”) inspires sadness and nostalgia for their ultimately temporary relationship (“once in twenty lifetimes”). “this is me trying” is tinged with the speaker’s bitterness; hopelessness and regret lead them to the bar and the destructive practice of drinking just to be numb.

These observations suggest that the City is also a site of grief or loss, though not for the same reason that the Coastal Town is. Whereas the Coastal Town is associated with a permanent ending such as death, the City reveals an ending that is more transitional and wistful, tantamount to a coming of age. There is a clear ‘before’ and ‘after’ to loss related to the City: life, though changed, goes on.

The Suburb: Homes and Towns

Noteworthy though the City and Coastal Town may be, the former in particular concerning the pop mythology of Taylor Swift, it is the Suburb which Taylor most frequently references in folklore and establishes as the geographical heart of the album.

The Suburb is defined by a home and town. A “home” encompasses entrances (front/side doors), back and front yards (gardens/lawns/trees/weeds/creeks), and interiors (rooms/halls/closets). The “town” is pretty self-explanatory, with a store, mall, movie theater, school, and yogurt shop.

Observe that the folklore Suburb is the aesthetic equivalent of the “small town” that provided the debut and Fearless albums’ milieu and inspired the country mythology of Taylor Swift. While Taylor primarily wrote about home and school on those albums (because, well, that was closer to her experience as a teenager), the “small town” and the folklore Suburb are functionally the same with regard to pace, quality, and monotonicity of life. Exhibit A: driving around and lingering on front doorsteps are the main attractions for young adults. (From my personal experience growing up in a Suburb, this is completely accurate. And yes, the only other attractions are the mall and the movie theater.)

The Suburb becomes a conduit for conflict.

Conflict that Taylor explores in this setting, including inner turmoil, dissension between characters, and friction between oneself and external (societal) expectations, naturally can be distinguished by distance [1] between the two forces in conflict. As an example, ‘person vs. self’ implies no distance between the sides because they are both oneself. ‘Person vs. society’ is conflict in which the sides are the farthest they could conceivably be from each other. Conflict with greater distance between the sides is usually harder to resolve. One must move bigger mountains, so to speak, to fix these problems.

The folklore Suburb is additionally constructed upon the notion of privacy or seclusion. We can imagine a gradient [2] of privacy illustrated by Suburban geography: the town is a less intimate setting than the outside of the home, which is less intimate than the inside of the home.

I combine these two ideas in the following claim: the Suburb relates distance between two forces in conflict inversely on the geographical privacy gradient. Put simply, the more intimate or ‘internal’ the setting, the farther the two sides in conflict are from each other.

(I offer this claim in the hopes that it will clarify the nebulous meaning of the Suburb in the next section.)

Salient references to the Suburban town can be divided into one of two categories:

Allowing oneself to hope

Allowing oneself to recall

“august” clearly belongs in the first category. Hope is central to August’s character and how she approaches her relationship with James:

Wanting was enough

For me, it was enough

To live for the hope of it all

Canceled plans just in case you’d call

And say, “Meet me behind the mall”

If we interpret the bus as a school bus then “the 1” also belongs in this first town category:

I thought I saw you at the bus stop, I didn’t though

I hit the ground running each night

I hit the Sunday matinee

“invisible string” indicates that the yogurt shop is equally innocent as Centennial Park. The store represents the hope of Taylor’s soul mate, parallel to her hope:

Green was the color of the grass

Where I used to read at Centennial Park

I used to think I would meet somebody there

Teal was the color of your shirt

When you were sixteen at the yogurt shop

You used to work at to make a little money

“cardigan” and “this is me trying” alternatively highlight the persistence of memory, with a relationship leaving an “indelible mark” on the narrators. These songs belong in the second category:

I knew I’d curse you for the longest time

Chasin’ shadows in the grocery line

You’re a flashback in a film reel on the one screen in my town

James’ recollection qualifies “betty” for the second category as well. This song shows that emotional weight falls behind the act of remembering:

Betty, I won’t make assumptions

About why you switched your homeroom, but

I think it’s ‘cause of me

Betty, one time I was riding on my skateboard

When I passed your house

It’s like I couldn’t breathe

Betty, I know where it all went wrong

Your favorite song was playing

From the far side of the gym

I was nowhere to be found

I hate the crowds, you know that

Plus, I saw you dance with him

The surprising common denominator of these two categories is that conflict is purely internal in public spaces. Regardless of whether the speakers feel positively or negatively (i.e. per category number), their feelings are entirely a product of their own decisions, such as revisiting a memory or avoiding confrontation. This gives credence to the theory that the Suburb inversely relates conflict distance with privacy.

On the other extreme, the home is a site of conflict larger than oneself, and often more conflict in general. Conflict which occurs in the most private setting, inside the house, is conflict where the two sides are most distanced from each other. Conflict near the house, though not strictly inside, is closer, interpersonal.

“my tears ricochet” is just an ‘indoors’ song. The opening line depicts a private, funeral-like atmosphere:

We gather here, we line up, weepin’ in a sunlit room

There are multiple interpretations of this song floating around. The two prevailing ones are about the death of Taylor Swift the persona and the sale of her masters. In either interpretation, society and culture are the foundation for the implied conflict. First, the caricature of Taylor Swift exists as a reflection of pop culture; second, the sale of global superstar Taylor Swift’s masters is a dispute of such magnitude that it is not simply an interpersonal squabble.

For the alternative interpretation that “my tears ricochet” is about a dissolved relationship, “and when you can’t sleep at night // you hear my stolen lullabies” implicates Taylor Swift’s public catalogue (and thus Taylor Swift the persona) as the entity haunting someone else, as opposed to Taylor Swift the former member of the relationship.

“mad woman” is just an ‘outdoors’ song because of the line about the neighbor’s lawn:

What do you sing on your drive home?

Do you see my face in the neighbor’s lawn?

Does she smile?

Or does she mouth, “Fuck you forever”

It’s clear Taylor has a lot of vitriol for Scooter Braun. Though it’s probably a bit of both at the end of the day, I am comfortable calling their feud more of the ‘person vs. person’ variety than the ‘person vs. society’ variety.

Consequently, the privacy gradient claim holds for both songs.

“illicit affairs” is one of two songs with a very clear ‘transformation’ of geography:

What started in beautiful rooms

Ends with meetings in parking lots

In context, this represents the devolution of the relationship. External conflict, the illegitimacy of the relationship, defined the affair when it was in “beautiful rooms.” Relocating to the parking lot (i.e. now referencing the Suburban town) coincides with discord turning inward. Any external shame or scorn for both lovers as a consequence of the affair is replaced by the end of the song with anger the lovers feel towards each other and, more importantly, themselves.

“seven” is the best example of how many types of conflict are present in and around the home:

I hit my peak at seven

Feet in the swing over the creek

I was too scared to jump in

And I’ve been meaning to tell you

I think your house is haunted

Your dad is always mad and that must be why

And I think you should come live with me

And we can be pirates

Then you won’t have to cry

Or hide in the closet

Please picture me in the weeds

Before I learned civility

I used to scream ferociously

Any time I wanted

The first few lines exemplify ‘person vs. self’ conflict, a fear of heights. The third segment introduces a ‘person vs. society’ dilemma, shrinking pains as a result of socialization into gender norms. (I am assuming that the child is a girl.) The second verse indicates strife between a child and a father. It leaves room for three interpretations:

The conflict is interpersonal, so the father’s anger is wholly or partially directed at the child because the father is an angry person

The conflict is sociological, so the father’s anger is a whole or partial consequence of the gendered roles which the father and child perform

Both

Is curious that we need not regard sadness and the closet in “seven” as mutually inclusive. The narrator says the child’s options are crying (logical) or hiding in the closet. Both the father’s temper and the closet are facts of the child’s life, either innocuous or traumatic or somewhere in between.

But we might—and perhaps should—go further and argue that conflict in “seven” is necessarily sociological, and specifically about being civilized to perform heterosexual femininity. For, taken to its logical extreme, if only gender identity and not sexual identity incites anger, then men must be socialized to become abusive to women, who must be socialized to become submissive to that abuse. Screaming “ferociously” at any time would also denote freedom to be oneself despite men, not freedom to be oneself for one’s own gratification. Yet the child surely enjoys the second freedom at the beginning of the song. While the patriarchy is indeed an oppressive societal force, the interpretation of the social conflict in “seven” as only gendered yields contradiction. This interpretation is much more tenuous than acknowledging that the closet is, in fact, The Closet.

(Mere mention of a closet, the universal symbol for hiding one’s sexuality, immediately justifies a queer interpretation of “seven” notwithstanding other sociological and/or semantic technicalities. A sizable chunk of Taylor’s extensive discography also lends itself to queer interpretation by extension of connection with this song—for instance, by a shared theme of socialization as a primary evil. To me it seems silly at best and homophobic at worst to eschew the reading of “seven” presented here.)

It is undeniable that “seven” represents many types of conflict and places them inversely on the privacy gradient. The father embodies societal conflict larger than the young child and introduces that conflict inside the house. The child faces internal conflict (i.e. a fear of heights) and no conflict at all (i.e. freedom to act fearlessly) outside.

Reconciling “august,” “exile,” and “betty” with the privacy gradient actually requires a queer interpretation of the songs. To avoid the complete logical fallacy of a circular proof, I reiterate that the privacy gradient is simply a means of illustrating how the Suburb functions as an archetypal location. Queer interpretation is a sufficient but not necessary condition for an interesting argument about Suburban spatial symbolism. Reaching a slightly weaker conclusion about the Suburb without the privacy gradient would not impact the conclusions about the other three archetypal locations. Finally, queer (sub)text is a noteworthy topic on its own.

“betty” situates the front porch as the venue where Betty must make a decision about her relationship with James:

But if I just showed up at your party

Would you have me? Would you want me?

Would you tell me to go fuck myself

Or lead me to the garden?

In the garden, would you trust me

If I told you it was just a summer thing?

Yeah, I showed up at your party

Will you have me? Will you love me?

Will you kiss me on the porch

In front of all your stupid friends?

If you kiss me, will it be just like I dreamed it?

Will it patch your broken wings?

Influencing Betty’s decision is her relationship with her “stupid” (read: homophobic) friends who don’t accept James (and/or the idea of James/Betty as a pair), her own internalized homophobia, and the trepidation with which she may regard James after the August escapade. The conflict at the front door is external/societal, interpersonal, and internal.

The garden differs from the front door as an area where James and Betty can privately discuss the August escapade. By moving to the garden, the supposed root of their conflict shifts from the oppressive force of homophobia to James’ behavior regarding the love triangle (“would you trust me if I told you it was just a summer thing?”). Much like in “illicit affairs,” motion along the privacy gradient underscores that micro-geography is inversely related to conflict distance.

Next, the implied settings of “august” are a bedroom and a private outdoor location such as a backyard:

Salt air, and the rust on your door

I never needed anything more

Whispers of "Are you sure?”

“Never have I ever before”

Your back beneath the sun

Wishin’ I could write my name on it

Will you call when you’re back at school?

I remember thinkin’ I had you

The backyard holds a mixture of ‘person vs. self’ and ‘person vs. person’ conflict. August’s doubts about James manifest as personal insecurities. However, James, by avoiding commitment, is equally responsible for planting that seed of doubt.

The song’s opening scene depicts a young adult losing their virginity. The bedroom can thus be conceptualized as a site of societal conflict because the queer love story expands this location to the geographical manifestation of escapism and denial. James runs off with August as a means to ignore externalized homophobia from a relationship with Betty, who has homophobic friends. Yet they eventually ditch August for Betty, either because of intense feelings for Betty or internalized homophobia—the relationship with August was too perfect, too easy.

“betty” and “august” are consistent with the gradient theory provided we interpret the love triangle narrative as queer. Identity engenders conflict in these songs. The characters then confront the conflict vis-à-vis location. ‘Indoors’ becomes the arena for confronting issues farther from the self, namely concerning homophobia. ‘Outdoors’ scopes cause and therefore possible resolution to individuals’ choices.

Last but not least, consider “exile,” the song with strange staging:

And it took you five whole minutes

To pack us up and leave me with it

Holdin’ all this love out here in the hall

You were my crown, now I’m in exile, seein’ you out

I think I’ve seen this film before

So I’m leaving out the side door

“I’m in exile, seein’ you out” and “I’m leaving out the side door” contradict each other. The speaker, “I,” seeing their lover out means that the speaker remains inside the house while their lover leaves. But the “I” also leaves through the side door. Does the speaker follow their lover out? If so, then whose house are they leaving? It is most likely a shared residence. They plan on coming back.

Taylor said in an interview [3] that the verses, sung by different people, represent the perspectives of the two lovers. The “me” in the first segment is the “you” in the second. So our “I” is left in the hall too. Both individuals in the relationship are implied to leave and stay at different times.

An explanation for this inconsistency lies in the distinction between doors. A front door in folklore is symbolic of trust, that which makes or breaks a relationship (see: Betty’s front door and the door in “hoax”). It also forces sociological conflict to be resolved at the interpersonal level, lest serious problems hang out in the open. Fixing the world at large is usually impossible, and so front doors only create more issues. (The mountains, as they say, are too big to move.) The main entrance is thus a site for volatility and high stakes.

“exile” suggests that a shared side door is for persistent, dull, aching pain. This door symbolizes shame which is inherent to a relationship. It forces the partners to come and go quietly, to hide the existence of their love. Inferred from a queer reading of “exile” is that it is homophobia that erases the relationship. Conflict with society as evinced in individuals is once again consistent with the staging at the home.

Note that few (though multiple) explanations could resolve the paradox between intense shame in a relationship and the setting of a permanent shared home. Racism, for example, may be a reason individuals hide the existence of a loving relationship. Nevertheless, the overall effect of Taylor’s writing is that it is believable autobiography. It is unlikely that she’s speaking about racism here, least of all because there are two other male characters in the song. So a slightly more uncouth name for “exile” would be “the last great american mutual bearding anthem.”

To summarize, the Suburb is an archetypal setting constructed upon the notion of privacy. Taylor makes the folklore Suburb the primary home (no pun intended) of conflict of all kinds. Through an intimate, inverse relationship between drama and constitutive geography, Taylor argues that unrest and incongruity are central to what the Suburb represents.

The Outside World

The final archetypal setting is the complement to the first three—a physical and symbolic alternative.

The Guadalcanal beaches in “epiphany” (which are also alluded to in “peace”) contrast the homeland in “exile” through a metaphor about war. The Lake District in England is opposite America, the setting of most of folklore. The Moon, Saturn, and India are far away from Pennsylvania, the setting of “seven.” India quantifies the lengths to which the speaker of the song would go to protect the child character, while astronomy abstracts the magnitude of the speaker’s love.

This archetypal setting is symbolic of disengagement and breaking free from limitations. Moving to India in “seven” is how the speaker and child could escape problems at the child’s home. Analogizing war with the pandemic in “epiphany” removes geographical and chronological constraints from trauma.

The Lake District is where Taylor, a poet, goes to die. The line “I don’t belong and, my beloved, neither do you” could also suggest that this location is where Taylor and her muse break free from being outcasts (i.e. they find belonging). Regardless, the Lake District is where she disengages from the ultimate limitation of life itself.

——

How is an archetypal feature used as a metaphor? By proxy, what does that say about the setting defined by said feature?

Analysis of each archetypal feature yielded the following:

The Coastal Town is representative of permanent loss/endings

The City is representative of transitional loss/endings

The Suburb is the site of character-defining conflict

The Outside World is freedom from the constraints of the other settings

What theme unites these settings?

Though the majority of songs in folklore are anachronistic, the album has a temporal spirit. Geography seems to humanize and animate folklore: the meanings of the settings mirror the stages of life.

(The theoretical foundation for this claim is a topology of being; that the nature of being [4] is an event of place.)

The City, characterized by transition, is the coming-of-age and the Coastal Town, characterized by permanent endings, is death.

The Outside World, an alternative to life itself, is hence a rebirth. (After all, Romantic poets experienced a spiritual and occupational rebirth upon retiring to the Lakes to die. We remember them by their retreat.)

Outwardly, the Suburb is ambiguous. It could be representative of adolescence or adulthood—before or after the City. Analysis shows that this setting is nothing if not complex. Adult Taylor writes about the Suburb as someone whose opinion of this setting has unquestionably soured since adolescence. Yet she also approaches the Suburb with the singular goal of creating nuance, specifically by exposing unrest and incongruity which the setting usually obfuscates. This setting, ironically one that is (culturally) ruled by haughty adolescents, is where she explores the myriad subtleties and uncertainties coloring adulthood. The Suburb thus cannot be for adolescence because James is 17 and doesn’t know anything. Taylor intentionally situates the Suburb between the City and Coastal Town as the geographic stand-in for a complicated adulthood.

Despite genre shifts, Taylor has always excelled at establishing a clear setting for her songs. She is arguably even required to establish setting more clearly for folkloric storytelling than for her brand of confessional pop. If we can’t fully distinguish between reality and fiction, we must be able to supplement our understanding of a story with strong characterization, which is ultimately a byproduct of setting. Geography is a prima facie necessity for creating folklore.

This further suggests that the ‘life story’ told through geography is the thing closest to a metanarrative of folklore.

I use this term to refer to an album’s overarching narrative structure which Taylor creates (maybe subconsciously) in service of artistic self-expression. Interrogating ‘metanarrative’ should not be confused with the protean, impossible, and distracting task of deciphering Taylor Swift’s life. True metanarrative is always worth exploring. Also, though some conclusions about metanarrative may seem more plausible than others, at the end of the day all relevant arguments are untenable. Only Taylor knows exactly which metanarrative(s) her albums follow, if any. It is simply worth appreciating that folklore allows an interesting discussion about metanarrative in the first place; that it is both possible to find patterns sewn into the fabric of the work and to resonate with that which one believes those patterns illustrate. I digress.

folklore is highly geographic but orthogonal to all of our geographic expectations of mood or tone. Through metaphor, Taylor upends our assumptions about the archetypal settings.

The Outside World is usually a setting which represents a brief and peaceful respite for travelers. Here, it is the setting for complete and permanent disengagement. Hiding and running away was a panacea in reputation/Lover, but in folklore, finding peace in running and hiding becomes impossible.

The City is usually regarded as a modern Fountain of Youth and, in Taylor’s work, a home. However, the folklore City’s shelter is temporary and its energy brittle, like the relationship between the characters that inhabit it. The City has lost its glow.

One would expect the Coastal Town to be peaceful and serene given its small size and proximity to water. Taylor makes it the primary site of death, insanity, permanent loss. The place where one cannot go with grace is hardly peaceful.

The Suburb is not the romanticized-by-necessity dead end that it is in a Bildungsroman like Fearless. Rather, it is the site of great conflict as a consequence of individual identity. The American suburb is monolithic by design; Taylor points the finger of blame back at this design for erasing hurt and trauma. By writing against the gradient of privacy, she obviates all simplicity and serenity for which this location is known. Bedrooms no longer illustrate the dancing-in-pjs-before-school and floodplain-of-tears binary. Front porches become more sinister than the place to meet a future partner and rock a baby. Characters’ choices—often between two undesirable options in situations complicated by misalignment of the self and the world at large—become their biggest mistakes. It is with near masochistic fascination that Taylor dissects how the picturesque Suburban façade disguises misery.

If we have come to expect anything from Taylor, it is that she will make lustrous even the most mundane feelings and places. (And she is very good at her job.) folklore is a departure from this practice. She replaces erstwhile veneration of geography itself with nostalgia, bitterness, sadness, or disdain for any given setting. folklore is orthogonal to our primary expectation of Taylor Swift.

Yet another fascinating aspect of folklore is the air of death. It’s understandable. Taylor has ‘killed’ relationships, her own image, and surely parts of her inner self an unknowable number of times. Others have tarnished her reputation, stolen her songs, and deserted her in personal and professional life. She perishes frequently, both by her own hand and by the hands of others. The losses compound.

I’ve lost track of the number of posts I’ve seen saying that folklore is Taylor mourning friendships, love, a past self, youth…x, y, z. It has literally never been easier to project onto a Taylor Swift album, folks! At the same time, it is very difficult to to pinpoint what, exactly, Taylor is mourning. To me, listing things is a far too limited understanding of folklore. The lists simply do not do the album justice.

Death’s omnipresence has intrigued many, and I assert for good geographic reason. Reinforcing the album’s macabre undertone is nonlinear spatial symbolism: each setting bares a grief-soaked stage of a single life. From the City to the Suburb, Coastal Town, and Outside World, we perceive one’s sadness and depression, anger and helplessness, frustration and scorn, and acceptance, respectively. folklore holds a raw, primal grief at its core.

The geographic metanarrative justifies Taylor’s unabridged grieving process as that over the death of her own Romanticism. For the album’s torment is not as simple as in aging or metamorphosis of identity, not as glorified or irreverent as in a typical Swiftian murder-suicide, not as overt as in a loss with something or someone to blame. folklore is Taylor’s reckoning with what can only be described as artistic mortality.

——

To summarize up until this point: geography in folklore is not literal but metaphorical. The artistic treatment of folklore settings evinces a ‘geographic metanarrative,’ a close connection between settings and the stages of a life spent grieving. I propose that this life tracks Taylor’s relationship to her Romanticism. folklore follows the stages of Taylor’s artistic grief, so we will see that the conclusion of the album brings the death of Taylor’s Romanticism.

It is important to distinguish between the death of Romanticism in general and the death of Taylor’s Romanticism. folklore presents an argument for the latter.

A central conceit of Romanticism is its philosophy of style:

The most characteristic romantic commitment is to the idea that the character of art and beauty and of our engagement with them should shape all aspects of human life.…if the romantic ideal is to materialize, aesthetics should permeate and shape human life. [5]

Romanticism is realized through imagination:

The imagination was elevated to a position as the supreme faculty of the mind.…The Romantics tended to define and to present the imagination as our ultimate “shaping” or creative power, the approximate human equivalent of the creative powers of nature or even deity. It is dynamic, an active, rather than passive power, with many functions. Imagination is the primary faculty for creating all art. On a broader scale, it is also the faculty that helps humans to constitute reality…we not only perceive the world around us, but also in part create it. Uniting both reason and feeling…imagination is extolled as the ultimate synthesizing faculty, enabling humans to reconcile differences and opposites in the world of appearance. [6]

Imagination then engenders an artist-hero lifestyle [7]. This is similar—if not identical—to what we perceive of Taylor Swift’s life:

By locating the ultimate source of poetry in the individual artist, the tradition, stretching back to the ancients, of valuing art primarily for its ability to imitate human life (that is, for its mimetic qualities) was reversed. In Romantic theory, art was valuable not so much as a mirror of the external world, but as a source of illumination of the world within.…The “poetic speaker” became less a persona and more the direct person of the poet.…The interior journey and the development of the self recurred everywhere as subject material for the Romantic artist. The artist-as-hero is a specifically Romantic type.

Taylor’s Romanticism is thus her imagination deified as her artist-hero.

Moreover, the discrepancy between perceptions of grief in folklore is a consequence of the death of her Romanticism.

We (i.e. outsiders) naturally perceive the death of the Romantic as the death of Romantic aesthetics. Hence the lists upon lists of things that Taylor mourns instead of celebrates.

Taylor seems to grieve her Romantic artist-hero. Imaginative capacity predicates an artist-hero self-image, so conversely the death of the Romantic strips imagination of its power. The projected “fantasy, history, and memory” [8] of folklore indeed unnerves rather than comforts. The best example of this is from a corollary of the geographic metanarrative. Grief traces geography which traces life, and life leaks from densely populated areas to sparsely populated areas (it begins in the City and ends in the Outside World). Metaphorical setting, a product of imagination, aids the Romantic’s unbecoming. So, imagination is not a “synthesizing faculty” for reconciling difference; it is instead a faculty that divides.

Discriminating between the death of Romanticism in general and the death of Taylor’s Romanticism contextualizes folklore’s highly individualized grief. It is hard to argue that Taylor Swift will ever be unimaginative. But if we assume that she subscribes to a Romantic philosophy, then it follows that confronting the limits of the imagination is, to her, akin to a reckoning with mortality, a limit of the self.

——

folklore follows the stages of Taylor’s artistic grief. The album ends with Taylor accepting of the death of her Romanticism and being reborn into a new life. The final trio of songs, set ‘of’ the Suburb, Coastal Town, and Outside World in turn, frame the album’s solitary denouement.

In truth, “peace” is hardly grounded in Suburban geography. The nuance in it certainly makes it a thematic contemporary of other songs belonging to the Suburb, however. And consider: the events of “peace” are after the coming-of-age, the City; defining geographic features of the Coastal Town and Outside World are referenced in the future tense; an interior wall, the closest thing to Suburban home geography, is referenced in the present tense:

Our coming-of-age has come and gone

But I’m a fire and I’ll keep your brittle heart warm

If your cascade ocean wave blues come

You paint dreamscapes on the wall

And you know that I’d swing with you for the fences

Sit with you in the trenches

Per tense and the geographic metanarrative, “peace” is Suburban and is the first story of this trio. “hoax” and “the lakes” trivially follow (in that order) by their own geography.

The trio is clearly a story about Taylor and her muse. Understanding perspective in these songs will help us reconcile the lovers’ story and the geographic metanarrative.

We must compare lines in “peace” and “hoax” to determine who is speaking in those songs and when. Oft-repeated imagery makes it challenging to find a distinguishing detail local only to the trio. I draw attention to the affectionate nickname “darling”:

And it’s just around the corner, darlin’

'Cause it lives in me

Darling, this was just as hard

As when they pulled me apart

These two mentions are the only such ones in folklore. Whoever sings the first verse of “peace” must sing the bridge of “hoax” too.

“hoax” adds that the chorus singer’s melancholy is because of their faithless lover:

Don't want no other shade of blue but you

No other sadness in the world would do

Augmenting Lover is an undercurrent of sadness to which Taylor alludes with the color blue. By a basic understanding of that album, Taylor sings the “hoax” chorus.

The fire and color metaphors in tandem make the “hoax” verse(s) and bridge from the perspective of the lover who is burned and dimmed by the energy of their partner, the “peace” chorus singer:

I am ash from your fire

But what you did was just as dark

But I’m a fire and I’ll keep your brittle heart warm

Finally, a motif of an unraveling aligns the “hoax” verse(s) and bridge singer:

You knew it still hurts underneath my scars

From when they pulled me apart

My kingdom come undone

The “hoax” verse(s), chorus, and bridge are all sung by the same person.

In sum: Taylor sings the first verse of “peace” and her lover sings the chorus of “peace.” (See this post for more on “peace.”) Taylor alone sings “hoax.” “the lakes” is undoubtedly from Taylor’s perspective too.

Now let’s examine “peace” more closely:

Our coming-of-age has come and gone

Suddenly this summer, it’s clear

I never had the courage of my convictions

As long as danger is near

And it’s just around the corner, darlin’

‘Cause it lives in me

No, I could never give you peace

But I’m a fire and I'll keep your brittle heart warm

If your cascade, ocean wave blues come

All these people think love’s for show

But I would die for you in secret

The devil’s in the details, but you got a friend in me

Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?

Taylor’s lover has the temerity to die for her in secret. We can infer from the first verse that Taylor’s coming-of-age brings not the courage her lover possesses but clarity about an unsustainable habit. She realizes that she cherishes youthful fantasies of life (such as “this summer,” à la “august”) for mettle. This apparently knocks her out of her reverie.

The recognition that being an artist-hero hurts her muse frames the death of Taylor’s Romanticism. It is impossible for Taylor to both manage an unpleasant reality and construct a more peaceful one using her Romantic imagination. The rift between her true lived experience (“interior journey”) and the experience of her art (“development of the self”) is what fuels alienation from Romance. The artist is unstitched from the hero.

“hoax” continues along this line of reasoning. In this song, she admits that she has been hurt by herself:

My twisted knife

My sleepless night

My winless fight

This has frozen my ground

As well as by her lover:

My best laid plan

Your sleight of hand

My barren land

I am ash from your fire

And by others:

You knew it still hurts underneath my scars

From when they pulled me apart

The bridge marks is the turning point where she lets go of of her youth and adulthood, both of which are tied to her Romanticism through geography:

You know I left a part of me back in New York

You knew the hero died so what’s the movie for?

You knew it still hurts underneath my scars

From when they pulled me apart

You knew the password so I let you in the door

You knew you won so what’s the point of keeping score?

You knew it still hurts underneath my scars

From when they pulled me apart

Of utmost importance is the very first line. The muse to whom Taylor addresses “hoax” is said to have been present at Taylor’s side through all of her struggles (“you knew”). The first line reveals that the lover did not know that Taylor left a part of herself back in New York (“you know [now]”). Taylor is only sharing her newfound realization as she stands on the precipice of the Coastal Town.

Nearly imperceptible though this syntactic difference is, it is an unmistakable reprise of the effect of the verses and chorus of “cardigan.” (Coincidentally, references to New York connect the songs.) “Knew” and “know” in both songs underscore a difference between what a character remembers (or had previously experienced) and what they understand in the current moment (or have just come to realize). Betty realizes at the very moment that she narrates “cardigan” that it was a mistake to excuse James’ behavior as total ignorance and youthful selfishness. Taylor realizes in “hoax” that she can no longer cling to youth, the romanticization of her youth, or romanticization of the romanticization of her youth. The youth in her is gone forever because she is no longer attached to the City. The adult in her has also matured for she is past the Suburb as well. The Coastal Town thus very appropriately stages the death of her Romantic.

Anyone who listens to Taylor’s music has been trained to connect geography to the vitality of Romantic artist-hero Taylor. In short, aestheticized geography renders Taylor’s Romantic autobiography. By letting go of the parts of her connected to geography, Taylor abandons the Romantic aesthetics both she and listeners associate with location. Divorcing from aesthetics also pre-empts romanticization of location in the future. The bridge of “hoax” is thus most easily summarized as the moment when any fondness for and predisposition towards Romance crumbles completely.

Lastly, we must pay special attention to micro-geography in the “hoax” chorus. We recall from “the last great american dynasty” and “this is me trying” the insanity that consumes the characters who contemplate the cliffs. The Coastal Town is not a beautiful place to die; one is graceless when moribund:

They say she was seen on occasion

Pacing the rocks, staring out at the midnight sea

I’ve been having a hard time adjusting

Pulled the car off the road to the lookout

Could’ve followed my fears all the way down

From “peace” we know that Taylor’s lover is willing to die for her, in particular if Taylor’s sadness becomes too great (i.e. if she goes to the sea).

But I’m a fire and I'll keep your brittle heart warm

If your cascade, ocean wave blues come

All these people think love’s for show

But I would die for you in secret

The “hoax” chorus is when Taylor’s sadness balloons. Taylor the Romantic is ready to die:

Stood on the cliffside screaming, "Give me a reason"

Your faithless love’s the only hoax I believe in

Don't want no other shade of blue but you

No other sadness in the world would do

Remember Rebekah, pacing the rocks, staring out at the midnight sea. Taylor is in this same position, on the cliffs, facing the water. Why is she screaming? Taylor is yelling down at her lover, who has already died (in secret, of course) and is in the water below waiting to catch her. (“I’m always waiting for you to be waiting below,” anyone?) Taylor’s singular faith is in her lover, and Taylor wants them to promise to catch her when she falls. In the end, though, the inherent danger nullifies what the lover could do to convince Taylor that the two would reunite safely below.

Taylor examines the water and realizes that her lover’s hue is combined with the blue of the sea. The sea cannot promise to catch her. Already mentally reeling, the admixture of sadnesses—in the setting which represents the culmination of life—makes Taylor recalcitrant. The Coastal Town has too much metaphorical baggage. It is not the place Taylor leaps from the cliffs. The first line of the “hoax” chorus uses “stood,” which implies that Taylor is reflecting on this dilemma after the fact.

The outro reinforces that the Coastal Town is where Taylor the Romantic comes to term with death but does not actually die:

My only one

My kingdom come undone

My broken drum

You have beaten my heart

Don’t want no other shade of blue but you

No other sadness in the world would do

Romantic imagination cannot protect Taylor from all the hurt she has suffered in reality. A calm settles over her as the chords modulate to the relative major key. She reflects on her journey: “my only one” corresponds to the first verse which introduces her solemn situation; “my kingdom come undone” ties to the self-inflicted hurt that froze her ground; “my broken drum // you have beaten my heart” supplements the second verse about suffering from her lover’s duplicity. The last lines are again her rationale for not jumping from the rocks. Finally, after the album-long grieving period, Taylor the Romantic has made peace with her inevitable death.

Romanticism is Taylor’s giant which goes with her wherever she goes. Running, hiding, traveling, and uprooting are indeed the fool’s paradise in her previous albums. Impermanence of setting—roaming the world for self-culture, amusement, intoxication of beauty, and loss of sadness [9]—engenders an impermanence of self, which fuels the instinct to cling tightly to what does remain constant. Naturally, then, Romanticism is Taylor’s only enduring companion. It becomes the lens through which she understands the world, yet the rose-colored one which by virtue inspires problems on top of problems. Forevermore does her Romantic inspire a cycle of catharsis that plays out in real life. Thy beautiful kingdom come, then tragically come undone.

Taylor chooses to go to the Lakes to escape from the constraints of this cycle:

Take me to the Lakes where all the poets went to die

I don’t belong and, my beloved, neither do you

Those Windermere peaks look like a perfect place to cry

I’m setting off, but not without my muse

Of the death story in the “peace”/“hoax”/“the lakes” trio, it is impossible to ignore the mutualism of Taylor and her muse. Neither of them belong of this life—and ‘of’ American geography—anymore. Taylor’s last wish is to go to the Outside World and jump (“[set] off”) from the Windermere peaks with her muse, who is ever willing to both lead Taylor to the dark and follow her into it.

Taylor bids a final goodbye—appropriately, in the tongue of Romance—to the philosophy which has anchored her all this time:

I want auroras and sad prose

I want to watch wisteria grow right over my bare feet

'Cause I haven’t moved in years

And I want you right here

Romanticism, her art and life in tandem, brought Taylor what she values: union with her muse in the privacy of nature and her imagination. The final ode holds respect.

Finally, her death. The journey of grief concludes with Taylor both accepting death and, fascinatingly, being reborn into a new life:

A red rose grew up out of ice frozen ground

With no one around to tweet it

While I bathe in cliffside pools

With my calamitous love and insurmountable grief

In keeping with metaphorical geography, old life dwindling in water is exactly concurrent with new life flourishing on land.

Observe that the rebirth concerns ice frozen ground, an element of “hoax,” which is set in the Coastal Town. The rebirth must happen back in America even though the death happens at the Lakes.

Despite the imagery, this is not a Romantic rebirth. Begetting a new life is the juxtaposition of two things Taylor once romanticized toward opposite extremes—a red rose for beauty and an ice frozen ground for tragedy—with her simple refusal that either be distorted as externalities of her experience.

This final stanza is wide open for interpretation with regards to the story of the two lovers. It allows a priori all permutations of Taylor and/or her muse experiencing rebirth as the red rose and/or the frozen ground:

Taylor and her lover experience a rebirth together

Taylor is the red rose and her lover is the ice frozen ground

Taylor is the ice frozen ground and her lover is the red rose

Taylor and her lover are indivisible: they are both the rose and the frozen ground

Taylor alone experiences a rebirth

Taylor is the rose

Taylor is the ice frozen ground

Taylor is the rose + ice frozen ground

The lover alone experiences a rebirth

The lover is the rose

The lover is the ice frozen ground

The lover is the rose + frozen ground

(2) and (3) make death at the end of “the lakes” purely sacrificial. This is inconsistent with the disproportionate emphasis placed on the lovers’ mutualism. I am thus inclined to dismiss (2) and (3) as consequences of combinatorics.

There are also two interpretations of the final lines of the bridge:

Taylor the Romantic is the implied ‘I’ overcome with grief; her muse is her calamitous love with whom she bathes

Taylor the Romantic possesses both calamitous love and insurmountable grief; her lover, as per usual, dies with her in secret

It is unclear which is the truth. Still, (1) is relatively straightforward: there are two entities said to bathe in the Lakes and two entities said to be involved in reincarnation.

There need not be ‘parity’ between old life and new (reincarnated) life with respect to the lovers’ relationship status. If Taylor’s muse dies, does her relationship dissolve? Or must her muse, who dies at Taylor’s side, be reborn at her side too? If Taylor declares her devotion to her lover before her death, does that ensure that they are together in perpetuity? Or is that sentiment purely a relic of her past life, in which case her love disappears anew? Perhaps the invisible string tying the lovers together bonds them in eternal life. Perhaps the string snaps. Which is the blessing and which is the curse?

Whatever you make of ‘parity’ in reincarnation, it is important to remember that Taylor insists the relationship between her and her muse is at least a spiritual or divine one—if not also a worldly one—for it exists in conjunction with her own metaphysic.

How does reincarnation betray Romanticism?

A. Taylor is the red rose and the lover is the ice frozen ground.

Taylor as the rose does not trivially align with a bygone Romanticism, for the rose epitomizes Romance. Key, therefore, is the line about tweeting. Taylor abhors the practice of cataloguing and oversharing in service of knowing something completely—effectively ‘modern’ Romanticism.

Digital overexposure is an occupational hazard [10], but Taylor refuses to let ‘modern’ Romanticism to become invasive this time around. New life shall not be defiled by social media. It shall remain pure by individual will. Though Taylor’s rebirth into a new life happens on land in America, that it does not become a hyperbole of local Twitter is the proverbial nail in the coffin of Romanticism, distortion in service of aesthetic.

Rose imagery also draws a direct parallel to “The Lucky One,” Taylor’s self-proclaimed meditation [11] on her worst fears of stardom. The “Rose Garden” in this song contextualizes the “lucky” one’s disappearance from the spotlight:

It was a few years later

I showed up here

And they still tell the legend of how you disappeared

How you took the money and your dignity, and got the hell out

They say you bought a bunch of land somewhere

Chose the Rose Garden over Madison Square

And it took some time, but I understand it now

Emphasis on individual choice in the aforementioned star’s return to normalcy bears a striking resemblance to the individualistic philosophy of “the lakes,” as exemplified by Taylor and her muse choosing to jump from the Windermere peaks and Taylor keeping her rose off social media. Mention of a “legend” that describes disappearance and simultaneous return elsewhere is another connection to the “the lakes.”

Taylor as the rose could alternatively represent a chromatic devolution of true love (“I once believed love was burnin’ red // but it’s golden”). That is, becoming a rose suggests she may have changed her mind back to believing that love is burning red. This more generally represents returning to the beginning of a journey that began in the Red era. Perhaps Taylor sees Red as the beginning of her calamitous Romanticism. She realizes by folklore the fears which she surveyed in “The Lucky One,” so choosing a new life presents an opportunity to protect post-Speak Now Taylor from self-inflicted wounds which fester and prove fatal to her Romantic. (In essence…time travel.)

Taylor’s lover, ice frozen ground, is reborn frigid not blazing, the opposite of their raging fire. Taming the lover’s wild essence renders it impossible for them to be a Romantic muse in a new life. If the two lovers do indeed share an eternal love, then death reveals a conscious choice not to glorify it.

Additionally, Taylor’s artist-hero imagination has no power in her new life. Taylor and her lover have effectively switched spots. All we previously knew of the lover’s secrets and secret death was from what Taylor wrote, so Taylor (for lack of a better phrase) concealed her lover. The lover, ice frozen ground, is now the one concealing Taylor, the rose. As a smothering but not razing force, Taylor’s lover thus is reincarnated into the role of a public protector. Reincarnation reveals that the death of Romanticism is abetted through the death of secrecy, which always allows distortion of truth.

Another possibility: the secrecy surrounding the lover is that they were the ice frozen ground. If Taylor confirms that the lover was something ‘tragic’ before, then after the death of Romanticism they counterintuitively may become beautiful. Or, the lover continues to be tragic, and paramount again is Taylor’s choice not to sensationalize her muse.

B. Taylor is the ice frozen ground and the lover is the red rose.

Many of the themes above apply to this interpretation too.

Taylor reborn as ice frozen ground does not change her essence from “hoax.” By not ‘shaking off’ a sadness with her rebirth, she subverts the usual expectation—a product of the many years devoted to fixing any and all criticism [12]—of artist-hero Taylor Swift.

The lover reborn as the red rose means their being surfaces where they once were hidden and/or that they are not the golden love they had been in reputation, Lover, and “invisible string.” New life brings the bright, burning “red” emotions. Either what was once very bad is now very good and vice versa, or these emotions are simply not very anything because Taylor doesn’t want to sensationalize them as a pastiche of Red. If Taylor’s love is eternal, then she will be more subdued when sharing it; if it is not eternal, then she will simply move on.

This interpretation implies that Taylor’s Rose Garden is eternal love without the necessity of elevating her partner to Romantic muse status. No one being around to tweet the rose bursting through the ice means that Taylor alone gets to appreciate her lover for their pure essence before modern society does—lest the lover be perceived at all.

C. Taylor and her lover are indivisible: they are both the rose and the frozen ground

Taylor’s “twisted knife”/“sleepless night”/“winless fight” froze her ground but her lover’s “sleight of hand” made the land barren, unable to sustain life. The two lovers are emotionally at odds, but Romanticism acts as the “synthesizing faculty” which unites them in their old life.

The metaphor of the rose and frozen ground does not work without each part. It is possible that the lovers remain equally united in their new life; the lovers’ spiritual connection yields unity after reincarnation. Abiogenesis is therefore the phenomenon which betrays Romanticism. The lovers exist alongside each other naturally, not because they are opposites which Romanticism has forced together.

This is probably the most lighthearted interpretation of the last stanza in “the lakes.” Extreme hardship helps the lovers grow, and they remain intertwined through eternity.

——

The geographic elegy of folklore is that for Taylor’s giant, her Romantic, something both treasured and despised right until its end. (How appropriately meta.)

This raises the question: what replaces it?

Nothing.

folklore can—and perhaps should—be understood as a Transcendental work rather than a Romantic one. From this angle, Romanticism is that which prevented Taylor from connecting with something deeper within herself, something more eternal.

“Transcendental” does not mean “transcendent” or beyond human experience altogether, but something through which experience is made possible. [13]

Transcendentalism and Romanticism were two literary and philosophical movements that occurred during roughly the same time period [14]. Romanticism dominated England, Germany, and France in the late 18th and early 19th centuries slightly before Transcendentalism swept through America in the mid-1800s.

The two movements heavily influenced [15] each other. Transcendentalists and Romantics shared an appreciation for nature, doubt of (Calvinist) religious dogma, and an ambivalence or dislike of society and its institutions as corrupting forces. We see Taylor align herself with these ideas by the end of the album. “the lakes” holds a reverence of the natural world, disregard of predestination, and contempt for Twitter.

But Transcendentalism sharply diverged from Romanticism along the axis of faith. Transcendentalism thrived as a religious movement that emphasized individualism as a means for self-growth and, in particular, achieving a personal, highly spiritualized [16] understanding of God:

For many of the transcendentalists the term “transcendentalism” represented nothing so technical as an inquiry into the presuppositions of human experience, but a new confidence in and appreciation of the mind’s powers, and a modern, non-doctrinal spirituality. The transcendentalist, Emerson states, believes in miracles, conceived as “the perpetual openness of the human mind to new influx of light and power…”

Romantics, for instance, viewed nature as a source of imagination, inspiration, and enlightenment, whereas Transcendentalists saw nature as a vessel for exploring spirituality. Transcendentalists believed in an innate goodness of people for possession of a divine inner light [17]. Occupied with the perverse and disparate, Romantics believed people were capable both of great good and terrible evil.

It’s tempting to scope Taylor’s shift from Romanticism to Transcendentalism to this album alone. It’s true that folklore is filled with individualism, a hallmark of Transcendentalist philosophy. However, I argue that spirituality reveals a journey towards Transcendentalism that began well before folklore.

Consider the evolution of faith from reputation to Lover. Taylor places more emphasis on personal spirituality as she becomes increasingly disillusioned with organized religion/religious dogma. In “Don’t Blame Me,” Taylor defies religious convictions in favor of chasing the high of her forbidden love. Then her quiet and private life with her lover in “Cornelia Street” advances whatever traditional religious beliefs she possessed towards a self-defined spirituality (“sacred new beginnings that became my religion”). Individual spiritual enlightenment and religious conviction become mutually exclusive by the end of Lover, for the lovers would still worship their love even if it is a “false god.”

The final scene proves most important for establishing the album’s philosophy. In the end of “the lakes.” Taylor chooses death and is reincarnated into new life, kept pure also by individual will. (It should be noted that Transcendentalism was heavily influenced [18] by Indian religions, of which reincarnation is a central tenet.) Choosing reincarnation—to the extent that one even can—reflects a greater understanding of oneself. Choice, the ultimate power granted in the self, engenders spirituality. It is the means by which one follows a divine, guiding spark (i.e. “inner light”) in search of connection with others and the natural world. The album’s ending marries individualism with spirituality, which makes Taylor a true champion of Transcendentalism.

——

Transcendentalism is considered one of the most dominant American intellectual movements. Exploring the significance of Transcendentalist Taylor Swift is a rather unimaginative end to this essay. If we try hard enough, we will always be able to connect its philosophy to any art that exists in conversation with American culture.

Perhaps a more gripping conclusion comes from the assertion that philosophy doesn’t matter…

…at least, not in the way this essay regards philosophy as the ultimate Point.

So identifiable is the geographic motif in Taylor’s work that it is nearly impossible to ignore. This is especially true for folklore, an album that would literally not be folkloric if not for the blending of reality and fiction, real location and setting elevated as metaphor. So moving, moreover, is the grief at folklore’s core that it is natural to wonder what else it could represent. Hence, this essay’s charade of poking around both to see if they convey a deeper meaning.

A strong philosophical foundation establishes the ethos of art, that with which we resonate. However, we will never know to what philosophy Taylor subscribes. The interaction between her beliefs, creative spirit, and innate sense of self will always be a mystery. Any and all conclusions about the philosophical foundations of her art thus (1) are highly subjective and (2) reveal more about the ones making them than about Taylor herself.

Ironically, it is paramount to appreciate Taylor’s (Romantic) style above all else. The ways she uses basic building blocks of literature—theme, imagery, mood, setting, to name a few—piques curiosity. After all, without those building blocks, one would not be able to cultivate (should they so desire) an interest in the metaphorical, philosophical, or otherwise profound.

——

Disclaimer: this essay references (explicitly and implicitly, by way of citing expanded theoretical work) the ideas of Emerson and Heidegger, two preeminent thinkers whose ideas have had especially deep and lasting impacts on society. They are also two individuals noted to have had poor and even abhorrent political/personal views. I do not condone their views by referencing any ideas connected to these individuals (done mostly in service of rigor). I furthermore leave the task of generating nuance to those who dedicate their lives to critical examination of these individuals’ personal philosophies and the impact of their work on society.

#folklore analysis #gaylor swift #music analysis #my post

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aroaceconfessions · 4 years

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Hey, I want to know - am I the only one who think that if you're not allo-ace or aro-ace, the a-community kind of sucks? I'm arospec greysexual and I know for sure if the a-community in general talked more about the other identities in the spectrum, I would found out my identity much faster (because even before figuring out my identity I was following different queer communities as an ally and to learn new things).

I just hate that is all about the aces. Everything is about the struggles of the aces, of their lifes, they have so much more rep in the media, people are more aware what asexuality is. While the aro-spec rep barely exist. Really, if you read this, tell me, can you remember the aro-ace rep you have seen to be other than asexual (maybe sometimes aro-ace but not often)?

The sad part is that we don't have much rep in general. And still, when a character is aro-ace, people almost always draw them with the ace flag, but not the aro flag, it's always talked more about their asexuality than their aromantism. I hate this so much.

Aro-specs are so oppressed by straight and even other LGBTQ+ people, but it's so frustrating that we're oppressed by our own community too. People are alway prioritizing the sexuality more than the romantism and I hate it hate it hate it

If I have ever seen greysexual character in the media who mention two or three things about their greysexuality, I can ensure you - I would know this is me. Same with aro-spec. This is what I'm talking about - everything is about aces. Not ace-specs. Just aces.

Admit note: very unrelated to anon’s confession but how did this ask get, through it’s like 3x the character limit??? Anon, teach us your ways.

#ace community #aro community #aroace #aromantic #asexual #aspec #greysexual #Anonymous

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wizardessheart-sideb · 4 years

Text

My WH Story & Feelings on it Ending

TW: abuse, depression, y’all know my trauma by now

With the discontinuation of Wizardess, I've been thinking a lot about this game and what it means to me, but it's been hard to articulate it for a number of reasons. But reading them congratulating us on graduating from the Academy has put me into motion. So here's my WH story and lots of mushiness. I started playing Wizardess during the summer of 2017. I'd already completed a year at my four-year uni. I didn't really have any friends there. I had one friend and man that was about to GO BAD. I'd discovered dating sims a few months prior with Mystic Messenger, so I got into playing more dating sims. My first SWD game was actually Ninja Assassin, and then I played Blood in Roses. I kept seeing ads for Wizardess and like a lot of players, I thought it looked like a dumb Harry Potter rip-off. Which I don't know why considering I knew Ninja Assassin and BiR were really good, but whatever. So I downloaded WH on a whim and honestly, it took me a while to get into the game. I still didn't really know how otome games worked and stuff. I chose Yukiya as my first route and as soon as the mystery kicked in, I was completely hooked. This game quickly took over my life. Where Fire Emblem had been my biggest comfort, Wizardess overtook everything for me. And thank God it did. I never had had that many issues with school. I've had depression since I was little, but school had never been a source of stress for me. The year before I started college, that changed. I can pinpoint the moment my mental health took a turn for the worse, and that happening right before I started community college was bad. I was lucky to go to a really good community college with great teachers and my friends went too, so I still had my friends with me. It wasn't until I moved to the LA area that school started impacting my mental health. When I was younger, I get depression in waves. Sometimes it'd be bad, sometimes it felt like it wasn't even there. But as soon as I got into college, it was there constantly and I felt it hard in LA. And after a stressful first year and then a horrible second semester, I had to return home to the place I absolutely hated and even worse, I felt unsafe at home. I was born in a city up in northern California, but I moved to a small town when I was 10. My mom and I moved in with my aunt, uncle, and cousins. The thing about this small town is that a lot of families are similar and so like. My older cousin had friends who had younger siblings that were the same age as me and my other cousin, so we were alll friends. Growing up and being beaten by older cousin, it was normalized bc my friends were going through the same thing. I thought being beaten up by someone I considered an older brother was totally normal. It was only until I got into the LA area did I realize "holy shit that's abuse I was ABUSED?!?!?!" because I'd laugh when I talked about how badly I used to get beaten and classmates were horrified at what I was saying instead of my friends from the small town who'd usually laugh with me and then tell me about the time their brother pushed them off the roof of their house. I already hated the small town I'd grown up in, but now I didn't feel safe. Although he hadn't hit me in years, I'm always scared one day my cousin's going to snap and start the cycle of abuse over again. Wizardess was a huge escape for me. I could just read it and get lost in Gedonelune and forget that I was in an unsafe situation and how sad I was. I'd just lay in bed and read for hours. I started making friends through the fandom and I wasn't platonically lonely anymore. And the game supplied the romance I know I'll never get to experience in real life. This game has given me so much comfort and been my rock for so many years. It's been one of the few good things in my life and when I'm sad (which is like all the time lmao), I can just go to Gedonelune and escape everything for hours. I returned to school and things friendship-wise were looking up. I made more irl friends and I FINALLY got good roommates in my dorm. School was still taking a toll on my mental health and depression made it hard to get to class because I had no energy to get out of bed even though I wanted to and my mind was screaming at me to get up. Wizardess was still a comfort but I was also having more light-hearted fun with it. Over time, Wizardess has evolved and instead of it just being my rock, I can appreciate it for other things. As it came to light how problematic Rowling was, I could appreciate that although the rep wasn't perfect, Wizardess included wlw rep and did the best they could. It didn't feel like they did it for woke points like someone, but it felt like a genuine move to try and include rep and I appreciate that. It really shouldn't surprise anyone Harry Potter was a huge huge HUGE thing to me as a child and ngl if I didn't have WH, it would've been a lot more painful to divorce myself from Harry Potter. And as I went through uni and saw that my uni didn't really care about its students from trying to ban students from speaking out against racism and disregarding school shooting threats. Hell, when my roommate Ariana and I stayed in our dorm room after the uni did a shitshow investigation of a shooting threat and refused to cancel classes, I played Wizardess like all day. Having a school in Gedonelune that actually CARED about students was a comfort. I fought tooth and nail against my classes and depression and I finished classes this last December. I now have my bachelors and this May, I would've had my graduation ceremony. Now, to be honest, I don't really care about doing graduation for my uni bc of all the bad experiences I had there and also not every member of my fam would've been able to go bc limited space and picking who gets to go is uh a nightmare. I had a small "graduation ceremony" with my family on zoom and my best friend Julia is planning on holding me another graduation ceremony in Animal Crossing. I am as much of a graduate of Gedonelune Royal Magic Academy as I am my irl uni. Wizardess has been with me for only a few years, but it's been a huge part of my life. And seeing the team congratulating us is bittersweet. It's sad that the WH team got let go without much warning (allegedly) and there will be no more new content, but the way I see it, the torch has been passed to us. So many of us are creating content for the fandom and our own events and routes. It's true, we're graduating from the Academy, but we'll always have a part of it inside us and now it's our turn to create and use the skills and knowledge we've learned from Wizardess.

#long post

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hetalialoverwrites · 4 years

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Ways to be Wicked

Part 6

First - Previous - Next

In Auradon, Ben sat at his desk in his office, filling out paperwork and continuing his kingly duties. Pressing a button on his desk phone, he asked, "Deborah?" "Yes, you Majesty?" A female voice asked. "Can you ask Lumiere to call me regarding Cotillion?" Ben asked. "Yes, sir." "Thank you." And the call ended just as the door opened with a clear knock. "Ben?" Evie called, peering into the room with a concerned tone. Looking up from his work, Ben jolted out of his desk, "Evie! Come on in." He invited, standing at the side of his desk and waiting to hear whatever she had to say, a small smile on his face. Evie took a steadying breath and shut the door before turning to look at Ben. "Mal and (Y/n) are gone. I think they've gone back to the Isle." Evie breathed seriously. Ben's smile slipped off his face as he tried to understand what she was saying. Seeing he wasn't getting it, Evie waked forward and braced herself for the upcoming conversation. "Mal wrote this note and left it in our dorm... I think you should read it." Evie said, holding out the notebook paper for him to read. Ben took it almost in a daze and read the note,

'Evie,

I'm so sorry to leave in such a rush so suddenly, but something's wrong with (Y/n). The forest says that she needs my help, so I'm going to her to try and fix whatever it is. It said that plants are dying because of her... Something must be really wrong... With all the stress she has been under lately, I wouldn't be surprised if we have to leave Auradon for awhile.

See you later,

Mal.'

Taking a sharp breath, ben folded the paper back up and wracked his brain for a solution. "No... This is my fault... This is my fault!" Ben exclaimed, backing up into his desk chair as the realization hit him. "I did this. She had been under so much stress with the kingdom and learning all our ways... And she had been closing herself off--! I saw it happening!" Ben yelled before getting his teeth, "And I just went all beast on her!" Ben leaned on his desk, unaware that Evie was tearing up beside him. She didn't notice both of her best friends cutting themselves off... Limiting themselves and being in pain... She didn't say anything either... "I have to go there and apologize..." Ben realized before standing straight up, planning to go immediately to the Isle. "I have to go there and beg her to come back. To forgive me." Ben was stopped by Evie, "Ben, how are you going to find her? The Isle is like a maze and you've never even set foot on it before. You need to know the Isle and how it works!" Evie explained. Ben turned away and looked out the window.

He didn't want to hear that. He didn't want to hear any of that. He wanted to find you and Mal and apologize for everything. He wanted to find you and apologize for everything that happened and beg for your forgiveness. "You have to take me with you," Evie said quietly, jolting Ben into motion. "Yes! Wait, no, are you sure?" Ben asked, spinning around to make sure Evie was okay with it. "Mal and (Y/n) are my best friends. Practically my sisters. I didn't notice anything either, I have to apologize too." Evie said, looking down at her hands and blinking away a few tears. "But... You have to promise me I won't get stuck there again." Evie shuttered at the thought and looked at Ben seriously. He nodded, "I promise." Evie took a moment, deciding whether or not to trust him before jumping into action as well. "Alright, we'll need to be stealthy since no one really likes us over there right now. Mal and (Y/n) will be okay because of their rep, but not us. And we'll bring Jay and Carlos too because there is safety in numbers." She mumbled to herself, pacing the floor before turning sharply to Ben. "And you aren't going like that."

Back on the Isle, Mal was dragging you down some streets. Well, not really dragging. It was more of her leading you a bit too fast. "Mal, where are we going?" You asked, trying not to trip over your feet. "Here!" Mal said, stopping at the door to Dizzy's place. You smiled brightly at the thought of seeing the young girl again. The children of the Isle were always so accepting and unafraid of you and Mal, Dizy just had been one of your favorite munchkins. You entered with Mal going in first and heard squeals, "MAL!" You heard Dizzy yell happily. After a hug, Mal moved out of the way and you were seen next. "(Y/N)!" DIzzy squealed once again before launching herself at you and hugged you tightly. "Hey, Diz!" You greeted happily, picking the girl up and spinning around with her. "Is Evie here too!?" Dizzy asked excitedly as you put her down. "Um, no." You replied gently while Mal scoffed, "As if." Dizzy looked a little sad before she shrugged it off, "So what brings you two here?" Dizzy asked curiously, leaning on her broom. "Well, we came to get our hair fixed. The whole dull princess look just isn't our thing, you know?" Mal asked, looking around the place. It hadn't changed a bit. "Sorry, it seems we forgot this place doesn't open until midnight." You apologized to Dizzy, patting her head as ruffling her hair would get you a lot of pouting for messing up her buns.

Mal hummed as Dizzy told you two it was no problem and fille you in on how things were going with her and her grandmother. "Say, Dizzy..." Mal piped up. "Yeah?" Dizzy asked, turning her head over her shoulder to look at the blonde. "You used to do Evie, right?" Mal asked and you knew where she was going with this. "Yeah! I thought of the little braids." Dizzy looked so proud of herself. It really lifted your spirits seeing her this happy. "Any ideas for us?" You asked curiously. Dizzy paused a moment and started looking over you two. "Washed out blonde with faded purple tips? The best of no worlds. You can't see where your face stops and your hair begins. And (Y/n), that (h/c) is sooooo not right on you. Again, faded red amber tips?" Dizzy tutted at you both before moving onto your nails. "Ugh! What is this, bored to death pink?" Dizzy asked, unhappy with the color. "Certainly feels like it." Mal piped up, making you laugh a little as the initial burst of joy after seeing Dizy faded. "Go ahead and sit down ladies, I got a few ideas for you two," Dizzy said, motioning to hairdressing chairs in front of some mirrors. You and Mal followed her instructions as Dizzy walked over to her tools. "So... How far can I go?" She asked. You and Mal shared a look, "The works. Whatever makes us feel like us." You both echoed. "Yay!" Dizzy cheered, turning around holding some extremely large sheers covered in paint and dye. You and Mal only grinned, confident in the girl.

Once she was all done, dyeing, rinsing, cutting and styling yours and Mal's hair, she painted your nails to match your wings. Letting Mal have the first reveal, Dizzy finished the last touched on her hair before spinning her around to look in the broken mirror. "Hey, there I am!" Mal smirked, chewing her gum she had gotten earlier and looked in the mirror. Mal now had hair to the middle of her upper back, straight, and a slightly lighter shade of her natural color. It was going to look wonderful when her roots started growing too. "Yeah?" Dizzy asked, excited to get praise. "Yeah. Here kid." Mal handed Dizzy some cash, "For all of it. You did a good job." Mal said before going off to the side and waiting for your reveal. Dizzy excitedly turned the chair back around and sat you in it, doing the last minute touches to your hair before spinning you around to look in the mirror. Standing up, you were amazed at your hair. It was your natural red amber color! It was cut and styled perfectly, just long enough to style however you liked but short enough that it still felt like you. You felt tears start to well up in your eyes at having another part of you back and you hugged Dizzy tightly, "Thanks Diz." You thanked her, feeling her hug you back just as tight. Once she let go, she skipped off to the register to finish up the appointment. Then... Harry Hook walked in.

Your eyes widened at the sight of him and you looked to Mal who was watching him carefully as he stole Dizzy's and the shop's money. It seemed like Mal didn't expect him to be here either. "Fork it over, you runt." Harry drew out smoothly, holding out his hand for the money. Dizzy sulked as she handed the money over. "All of it." He insisted. She groaned quietly and took out the money from the register, handing it over to Harry. "Still running errands for Uma, or do you actually get to keep what you steal?" Mal called, making Harry stop and turn to her. You were hiding behind the wall the broken mirror was on. "Well, well, well... What a nice surprise." Harry turned around and looked over Mal, being his usual overzealous self. "Hi, Harry." Mal greeted. "Just WAiT until I tell Uma you're back. She'll never give you back your old territory." Harry walked closer and smirked with a smug air to him. Mal rolled her eyes, "That's nice, but she can keep it. We're just stopping by for a little while." Mal said, not enjoying how close he was to her. Though it did amuse her to see how he stopped suddenly and the look in his eyes changed. He stood up straighter and looked around the shop, "We?" He echoed. Mal glanced at you and he caught her look, following her gaze to see you moving out from your hiding place. "Hey, Harry..." You whispered your greeting.

You were bracing yourself for his reaction, eyes squeezed shut as if it would protect you in some way. You had been best friends after you broke up and then you just left one day without saying anything... And hadn't come back for over a year... So needless to say, you were surprised when you felt two hands caress your face gently. "Hey... Come on, look at me." Harry's soothing voice made you open your eyes, locking with his pricing gaze. "Hey, lass." He greeted like usual, though in a much softer tone. Dizzy was at the counter, watching you two with a starstruck expression that was morphing into a fangirl's glee. You opened your mouth to respond but couldn't get your usual greeting out, so you shut it once more. Taking a deep breath, you hardly noticed when Mal backed off a bit to let you two have your moment. "H-Hey hook..." Your voice broke and tears flooded your eyes, pouring down your cheeks as you greeted him earnestly. You felt so sorry to have left him behind for so long without saying anything. But you felt so relieved to have your best friend back. You felt strong arms wrap around you and a chin rest between your horns as you were pulled into a firm hug. "It's alright lass... It's alright..."

#descendants au #reader insert #descendants #ben x reader #mirror mirror #crossover #romance #maleficent #maleficent mistress of evil #ways to be wicked #fanfic

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gremlinkweenarchive-blog · 5 years

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I’m drunk and in my feels and I wanted to share this with people. It’s a personal piece that really has nothing to do with anything but this is something that I still feel today even though I wrote this months ago. It is extremely personal and some things in here may not make sense to you, but like as people, that’s okay. Read this and you can give feed back or not. I’m just tagging people that might be interested in reading this!

@n30n-dreams, @langdonsinferno, @travel-sell-repeat, @codyfernss, @langdonsoceaneyes, @lvngdvns, @wroteclassicaly, @wildestdaydreamer, @ghostiesbedroom

I have seen horses’ members as big as my arm. It’s true, and there’s a point to this. I have seen horse dicks that make my own body pale in comparison to my only puny body. They have no shame in it. It’s just nature that occasionally the sheath gets too junked up, too dirty to stand being cooped up, sometimes it’s just for the sake of letting their dick fly free. It’s rather disturbing for a 9 year old raised in a puritan culture, but they don’t have the limits of culture in their vocabulary, they simply feel something and do something to act on it. In human culture, it’s rather unholy and unseemly, but I raise you this point. Have you ever seen a horse run free? Have you ever had the extreme pleasure of experiencing that first hand from their back?

It is a beast of nature running free with an extreme sense of self and freedom that humans rarely ever possess for themselves. Their sheer power from their own bodies makes the very ground tremble under their hooves. If you have never had the pleasure to experience that for yourself, it is breath taking. One animal to have the power to make the very ground they step upon to tremble, quake, underneath them, the command the winds to whip between their ears. To have the very fires of passion run ruin as they do across prairies and the forests of California ignite in their hearts. To feel the waters of the soul flow between them and you, if you are lucky enough to be upon their backs when they do this, is an experience that transcends the souls. It’s always a cop out for a writer (as I fancy myself to be) to say something is indescribable. It is quite literally our jobs to describe the indescribable. That’s why people pay the successful ones insane amounts of money to do so, so let me try to feebly describe that freedom.

Imagine you are someone that never had a voice, from the moment you were born, it has been robbed from you by the very people that are supposed to protect it. Imagine that you have been so immeasurably hurt that your very soul cries in the early morning of the hours to be heard. Imagine going through the day with a scream in your throat. Imagine that scream is trying to burst out and yell to the tips of the Himalayas and beyond, to the very stars it wants to yell about the pain you are in, the pain you suffer on a day to day basis that is beyond a normal human’s understanding. It is a pain that is felt to the very bottom of the Mariana’s Trench to the furthest star you see in the sky, and if only you had the power to belt out this scream, all the creatures in that dark and miserable trench that have never felt the light of the One’s Sun, to that very furthest star you see in the night sky could feel. If only had the power, yet, yet this lowly animal of the earth that doesn’t even have the power of intelligent speech can understand it. It sees your pain and understands in such an intimate way that you don’t even have to explain it to them. Human speech is lost on them, but they see and recognize that pain in your eyes, the very way you carry yourself. It understands, and without a word, offers a way to you that makes you feel powerful. It makes the earth tremble for you. It makes the wind sing for you. It yields it’s passionate fire to you. It yields it’s waters of understanding to you so that for a moment. Just for one moment of time, you can feel stronger than your pain and darkness. It does all of this for you for the simple price of mutual understanding and love. All that it asks of you is to understand it is a creature that too feels love, pain, joy, sadness, and everything that it takes to be human, and to love it in return despite its’ shortcomings. That’s all that proud animal asks for in return to give you a moment where you feel bigger and stronger than your darkness. That’s what it’s like to be on top of their back when they run free.

I have a friend who says that horses are, and I quote, “Horses are terrible human beings.” It’s true. They are terrible human beings. They kick, they use your nice show shirts as napkins, they hurt you, they throw you off, they make you feel inadequate. They are the worst human beings that you will ever come to know… but they are the best horses you will ever know. I know plenty of humans like that. The friend who says this is guilty of doing this to me like countless others, but with horses, and with people in that same boat, I have learned that as long as you come back with a renewed understanding, love, respect, patience, and appreciation and you refuse to let that be the last note that you end on, they will pay you back with the same understanding, love, respect, patience, and appreciation. You only get what you give with them. I do fall into the same category. I am terrible with names and birthdays, I am terrible with communication, I often can’t open up and let you know how much appreciate you without being heavily intoxicated. I act up when I’m in pain, and I never have the voice to describe it, but the One knows that if you don’t quit on me, I will never quit on you to the point of insanity. So, yes, horses are terrible people, but they are great horses. They are so insanely human that if you yourself don’t actually study people as who they are, you say is a terrible person, but in my personal belief, you can be a terrible person, yet a great friend, lover, parent, what have you as long as you can give back what you get. I think terrible people get a bad rep.

As an artist, a writer, a hopeful theatre artist, and everything I hope to be, I can recognize the voice that other people need to hear, that society needs to hear. My art is an intimate part of myself that I share in a selfless act. It doesn’t make sense, but if we tried to prescribe sense to human beings, we would waste our lives away trying to understand. That’s not my problem with art. My problem with art is action. Taking the time to make something that other people will understand is hard. I hear so much that you need to just focus on the art that you want to make, that you want to see in the world, and other’s will flock to it. That’s just bullshit to me. I’m sorry, but I’m not. Art is an inherent act that you want others to get, because at the end of the day, why make it? Why pour your heart and soul into an art project if you don’t want others to give you validation for it? That’s why I’m writing this. I want others to hear my voice. I hear my own voice plenty, trust me, I have to live with it, day in and day out. I’m writing this so that the very friend, who is one of my dearest, that told me horses are terrible people and who told me to write this can understand the voice in head. I don’t need clarification. I have it, I hear my voice loud and clear, it’s the world that doesn’t hear this loud and clear. I’m tired of people not hearing my voice, because those very unholy and natural creatures I have described above, who I think are better than humans because they aren’t human and they understand the human experience so much more than humans do, have heard my voice and respected it with just seeing the look in my eye and how I carry myself. It’s people who you have to use very specific words that fit into their idiocycries and you have to mold yourself to them before they understand. Horses see you as you and understand that. It’s people you have to mold yourself to in order to be heard. That’s why art is inherently an act you do to make people understand. If it wasn’t, I could present myself to you without bending myself to fit your perceptions of life, but I can’t, so there we go. We are much more selfish creatures than we like to credit. I almost ended this with “Anyway, that’s enough of me sounding like a bitter postmodern artist.” But you know what? Fuck that. If these views make you think that of me, then I don’t care (well, deep down I do, but just attribute that to my mother never loving me enough.)

My voice as an artist is performative. It is just me desperately begging another human to understand me. My true voice is one I don’t have to speak. It’s one that I can be me without words, without an ego (I know I’m not using this in the strict sense of Freud or any version that Bogel tried teaching, but honestly? Fuck Freud and fuck Bogel [not really him, he’s a good dude and you know what? Freud tried to make some good points but then straight white abusive men shut those points down] but fuck using any other people’s words and meanings to describe who I am), just me acting as who I am. It’s me being in pain and not a single person has to ask me if I’m okay or if I want to talk about it. Of course I’m not and of course I don’t. I’m crying and showing body language of someone in emotional distress. I’m not okay. Of course I don’t want to talk about it because for sixteen straight years (formative years I might add), my mother robbed me of the ability to talk about what I’m feeling freely in fear that I will face some backlash for the very being of who I am. My true voice is one I don’t have to speak and another being just knows these issues. Horses are the only animal that understand that and are not subservient or for mutual benefit. Dogs are subservient. Truly domesticated. They care because they are conditioned to care about you. Cats care because there is a mutual benefit for them. Horses are neither of these things. They are not subservient at all. Ever ridden a green horse? Doesn’t matter the years of training you have put into that animal, don’t ride it for a while and keep that fresh, they don’t care. They forget. Cats get a mutual benefit out of your partnership and will grow to love and relay on your very specific form of caring and love. Cats and dogs will miss you if you’re away for a while and someone else has to care for them. Horses? If you have someone else feed them, they accept that person as the new food bringer. Simple as that. Not that they don’t care for you, love you, or respect you. They just have needs that need to be met and if you aren’t there, they will move on. Simple as that. Yet, I have seen horse and rider reunited after 20 years, I shit you not, and the horse did have a certain affection for that rider. A simple part of their heart that was reserved especially for that man. Can you not tell me that isn’t human? I know for a fact that if I moved on from my closest friends, even the one I’m writing this for, I would find someone that performs the same functions for me, and they would find a person that performs the same functions as I do for them. I can say that with certainty as someone that has left many people in her life. In the same token, that doesn’t mean I don’t understand, love, respect, have patience for, and appreciate them in any less unique fashion that I do for every person in my life. I think about those people that I have left often and my heart hurts. If I were to see them after twenty years after our relationship ends, doesn’t mean those feelings diminish any less. Does this make me a terrible person? Probably.

I have often felt like a god. Is that grand delusion? Prob-fucking-ably. That’s fine though. I have stood at the pain, at the fear, at the cliff’s edge of human understanding and stared into the vastness of that inexplicable darkness and laughed, cried, and danced in everything from joy to numbness. Who knows if I’m a god, but I know I will ride a great stallion. He is black and dark as the night sky, his mane and tail are stricken with white as brilliant as the salt flats of the desert. He is tall, his muscles allow him to run faster than any creature before or after him. He as feathers adoring his hooves that hide as sickly thin horses’ ankles are. His name is Occo the Great, and he is just as much of a god as I am. No one would ever dare to leave me an offering without leaving one for him as well. Why? Because he is my voice when I grow tired of molding myself to the outside world. My advice to you is to find the thing that makes you feel like a god. Find it and go for it. That’s where your power is.

What I’m trying to say is, the voice for my art is performative, horses are the only thing I have ever met that understands my voice as it truly is, and that yes, horses are terrible people, but they are great horses. You just have to understand that terrible people are some of the best people you will ever know. There is a grace in the most unseemly things as letting your dick fly free because you can, yet also be a creature so powerful and unwieldy that you make the four elements surrender to your whims. Ever felt so powerful that the ground shook beneath you? That the waters of communication and togetherness bent to your needs? That the very fires of passion were yours? Ever felt the wind of the One be bent to your will? That’s my voice, and there I stand, in a concept none understand, but I’m still there. Stronger than you can even comprehend.

#about me #this is honestly just like a look into me as a person

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doomedandstoned · 5 years

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Closer to the End

Depression is my nemesis. Eventually it will kill me.

...if I let it.

By Billy Goate

Art by RusoTsig (@rusotsig)

Life's falling away from me. The visual evidence is all about. Unopened mail builds up at random spots around the room like mini Towers of Babel. Even things that normally give me great delight -- a recently delivered set of vinyl records -- lie undisturbed in their brown cardboard packages. Meanwhile, my email continues to multiply exponentially: 200 unanswered today, 400 tomorrow, 800 on the day after that (for the curious, the tally stands at 2,359 today). The very thought of opening my inbox makes it equivalent to walking out into open traffic, so I avoid it like the plague.

Meals have become simplified these days -- if it can't be eaten out of a package, forget about it. And all those empty wrappers? They, too, join the general disorder, decorating the landscape of my solitary hovel. Eventually, messages from friends and family go unread. Bills go unpaid (even when there are sufficient funds). The yard turns into a veritable jungle of tall grass, weeds, and sprawling bushes. Clothes go unwashed and hygiene is neglected for days at a time. Weekends are spent pouring over regrets about what might have been, brooding about the end of days.

As any doctor will confirm, these are classic symptoms of depression. What they can't tell you is how hopeless hopelessness can feel.

Karl Briullov - The Last Days of Pompeii (detail)

Black Sabbath’s final show in the Pacific Northwest. Usnea's album release party. Saint Vitus reunited with their first singer, Scott Reagers. The return of Sasquatch. Once in a lifetime small venue appearances by international bands, such as Cult of Occult. A rare hometown gig by Yob. Visits from Goya, Primitive Man, and countless others. Ceremony of Sludge. Even events with the Doomed & Stoned's own name stamped on them. All of these are things I've missed out on in the past year or two because of depression.

It's not that I was too down to even consider going. On the contrary, I was actively planning to go. I RSVP'd, bought tickets, and even checked out the camera equipment to film the shows. In most cases, I'd gotten dressed and readied, even told people to expect me, but for one reason or another I fell under the unyielding grip of depression and came up with an excuse for why I couldn't go. Then one day I just got tired of making excuses and stopped going out altogether.

In one case, I was halfway down the road on a two-hour trip to see Saint Vitus and Witch Mountain perform at Star Theater, when suddenly a wave of grief washed over me from head to spine. As soon as I spotted the nearest overpass, I exited, turned around, and returned home. Even shows I knew would be cathartic (Bell Witch playing their titular Mirror Reaper at a local watering hole) just couldn't cause me to drive a couple miles down the road. The few times I managed to go out, it was because I absolutely forced myself. I practically fought with my inner man all the way there, too -- teeth clenched, hands tightly gripping the wheel, rehearsing in my mind a myriad of reasons why I should just turn back and stay home.

For me, Alice in Chains captures the frustration perfectly in "Excuses":

Everyday it's something Hits me all so cold

Find me sittin' by myself No excuses, then I know

Depression has robbed me of so much. I've missed opportunities to collaborate with musicians and artists because of it. I've pushed away friends and family, until contact between us has become more and more scarce. I've even stopped celebrating my birthday. I have become a shadow of a man.

What's worse, there's been a new development: anhedonia. I remember only casually looking up the meaning of that word when reviewing Undersmile's album by the same name. Anhedonia basically means that you stop finding pleasure in life. As I browse through my friend's timelines, I find it difficult to relate to their happiness. I think quite often of the emptiness of it all, of being alone and growing older, and the ultimate futility of human pursuits. I often feel more of an observer than an actor in the great drama of life.

As you read all of this, bear in mind that I've managed to hold down a steady, full-time job for decades, right up to the present day. You see, some cope by drinking, others by eating, and others still chase the fleeting high of romantic love, but I found my copacetic in work (as absurd as that might sound). I’ve damn near worked myself to death over the past couple years, too, taking precious few "mental health days" or vacation. At one point, I stopped accruing paid time off, because I'd reached my limit and my boss had no choice but to mandate that I take two days off per month. Can you imagine? I’d been known to come into work on the weekend, rather than spend it alone with my thoughts. At least at work, I can stay distracted with something I feel makes some kind of difference.

I can't feel my life Makes me want to cry How bad i feel inside Like I wanna die

Destination unknown Wreckage in tow Depression grows I have no home

Lately, all I've wanted to do on the weekends is sleep. When I'm at work, I'm fine. I'm in the zone. I have purpose. Things make sense. I'm needed. When I'm home, I always have a list of to-dos, but no matter how busy I try to make myself, I find myself suffering with a lonely, aching feeling. It hurts to be alive. That's the only way I can describe it. So I go to sleep early -- and sleep and sleep and sleep -- without so much as the aid of melatonin. All I want to do is go to sleep and forget and wake up the next day and start fresh, hoping all of the oppressive feelings of darkness have left me. I'll sleep 9 hours, 10 hours, 12 hours is not unheard of, then curse when the alarm wakes me up to face the day. I haven't slept so much since I was a teenager.

At least some of my depression seems linked with sunlight. While the sun is out, I'm mostly okay. When I'm taking my meds, I feel possessed with purpose and I'm busy chipping away at a dozen assorted projects, networking with bands, record labels, and PR reps around the globe, auditing new records, editing submissions from my team, and occasionally summoning enough nerve to write an album review of my own. But when the sun sets and darkness takes hold, bathing the landscape in its sinister shadows, everything changes.

In the heart of winter, there is an existential dread that overtakes me when the sun sets. It's almost primitive. There seems to be no rational basis for feeling this way, unless we factor in some kind of code passed along in the evolutionary programming of the reptilian brain over the millennia. You know, that thing responsible for our fight or flight response -- the urge to either take a swing or get the hell out of Dodge.

Loneliness is not a phase Field of pain is where I graze

Saw my reflection and cried So little hope that I died

That cryptic note of horror hints at what happens when our coping mechanisms stop working for us. For me, it was burnout. I worked and worked and worked, and then I came home and did Doomed & Stoned in the evenings and weekends until I inevitably reached a point of absolute and total system overload.

We've seen a spate of deaths in recent years in the heavy music world stemming from depression. It seems to be the creative person's curse. Chris Cornell of Soundgarden. Linda Nygren of the Wounded Kings. Dozens more artist deaths are listed as "N/A" in Metal Archives, but you always wonder. Even an accidental drug overdose can owe its underlying cause to depression. Often it's hard to untangle addiction from the need to escape acute emotional pain.

Though it is tempting to buy into conspiracy theories linking suicide to pharmaceuticals, chemtrails, fluoride in the water, gangstalking, and covert government ops, it's important to recognize that suicide is nothing unique to our life and times. Narrowing the focus more specifically to musicians and other artistic types, we've had many historic instances of depression. Think Beethoven, Franz Liszt, and Tchaikovsky -- three people who pioneered much of the musical language that doom metal utilizes for expression. Each experienced prolonged periods of melancholia for various reasons, from physical malady and loss-fueled grief to unrequited love and the utter rejection of society. Arguably, Peter Ilyich Tchaikovsky died at his own hand.

Perhaps it won't surprise you that many of us who have an affinity for doom metal (though certainly not all) are also at risk for suicide. A recently published study by the University of Manchester found a correlation, though not a causal link, between members of "alternative subcultures" and "the risk of self-harm and suicide." There was no definite conclusion drawn from the piece, other than to point out that a problem exists (no kidding) and that more long-term studies are needed.

I've got a notion as to why heavy music draws the heavy-laden: misery loves company. We're drawn to the mysteriously compelling ability that doom has to commiserate with our feelings, from lyrics that deal so honestly with sadness to the solace of sharing a joint with those who are on a similar path.

But sometimes depression is so severe that you don't want to go out on the weekends at all, not even for your favorite band. Before I get too deep into my own story and how I'm treating my depression, some of you may wonder why I am writing this piece and have decided to share it publicly. I can assure you, I have nothing to gain from this. I'm not crying out for help (I'm too stubborn to ask for it when needed, anyway) and I'm certainly not trying to sell you on anything.

To be truthful, I've been chipping away at this piece (currently standing at 53,726 characters) for two years. I revisit it when the depression hurts the most. It acts as a kind of release valve for me and since that's at least providing some relief, I'll keep scribbling words upon this page. So before you leave thinking this was all just a self-indulgent slab of depression porn, stay tuned. There really is more to the story, including some valuable insights I'm learning about dealing constructively with my depression and its underlying causes -- physical and psychological.

To be continued...

★ Read Part II

☆ Read Part III

Here I sit writing on the paper Trying to think of words you can't ignore

See the cycle I've waited for It ain't like that anymore

#Closer To The End #Depression #Suicide #Doom #Metal #Alice in Chains #Jerry Cantrell #Doomed & Stoned

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microkumo · 6 years

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Voltron is not to blame for S7

Let me just say that I’m not happy with how Voltron’s S7 went in terms of LGBT rep. I’m disappointed, and I’m sad about Adam, Ezor, and Zethrid. I’m sad that Shiro might not be allowed to be in an openly romantic relationship by the end of the series.

However, I don’t think the way our fandom handles this situation is good or benefits the LGBT community in the future. I’ll explain but please read first.

Please stop blaming the writers and the executive producers. Stop taking your aggression out on the VA’s.

I know you’re upset. I am too, but this isn’t their fault.

It’s easy to get into the mindset that the people behind the creative force of the show are the only ones who have a say in what goes on, but that’s not true. In a perfect world we could have that, but like most creations from a large industry you have to remember that they’re not the top of the food chain.

Every decision the writers and EP’s make have to get run by someone else. Not even just one person, but an entire team that gets to decide “yes, this is fit for airing” and “this is a safe bet for us to invest in”. Things get cut, the tone of scenes change, and the original message that the writers wanted to deliver often gets warped in the better interest of people they can’t ignore.

Joaquim and Lauren desperately want to deliver their story. They wanted to give that representation. They fought hard just to get Shiro out as a gay character that they barely got clearance for after fighting for 5 seasons. They’ve done what they can, but ultimately the decision isn’t up to them on what they can or cannot add to the show.

It sucks. I know it sucks. But that’s why we have to show support, even when it feels like we got shorted on something that we were so happy to receive.

But at the end of the day, Shiro is still gay. He’s the main character of a really awesome show that teaches kids about working together, forming friendships, never giving up on themselves, to follow their dreams, and all while being disabled, and traumatized, and a person of color. That’s still substantial. The fact that he’s our gay rep is amazing.

We can’t let disappointment erase Shiro’s beautiful character.

It’s negative reactions like the ones the fandom is taking that will make it harder for studios to reveal gay characters in the future. If we can’t even support a show when they give us a wonderful character like Shiro, then why should they bother supporting any other gay characters with substantial roles in the future.

We have to show our support, guys. Showing support for these characters- giving positive feedback- is the only way we’ll get executives to comfortably allow more characters like Shiro into more shows. Showing our support for the LGBT characters that we have is the only way we’ll see characters like Shiro with romantic endgames.

Please, drop the negativity towards the people who want to help us. They have been fighting this battle on two fronts for too long, and it’s time to show that they’re doing a great job despite what their bosses are limiting them to.

Fight for representation by making this season the highest rated season in Voltron’s history. Fight by supporting what we have, because we know there’s people out there who will use this negativity as an excuse to keep LGBT characters out of children’s media, and we cannot allow let that happen.

#vld #voltron #Shiro #Adam #LGBT rep #queer baiting #Please read this

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thedeviantpisces · 5 years

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In the face of 27

Exhale. Take a sip of coffee.

Type some words. Delete them. Take another sip.

Sigh passively at your inability to start talking honestly here.

There was a point where I didn’t think I’d make it to see this time of my life. There was a point that every single day, waking up to take another breath, living another day to take another step, was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. I never had the urge to go; just the urge to disappear. And it felt that the more I’d wanted to disappear, the more the world required of me to be totally bare and transparent. It’s when you want the spotlight the least that you seem to receive it the most, and it’s in these times I’ve wished to close my eyes and vanish. But I didn’t vanish.

And I’m still here.

Everything felt like an overwhelming surge of sensation; everything was so NOISY, and so QUIET, all at once. I would surround myself in the noise and the constant go, go, go, only to be overwhelmed at the often sudden crash into the silence. And the silence could be deafening. Listening to the thrum of your heart, beating softly against your chest as if nothing is wrong, yet feeling like it’s going to explode out of your ribs at the next wave of emotions – that is terrifying. You lose hope. You drown in the silence. It consumes you whole and you drown, until you’re pulled back into the light by the need to always GO.

If it weren’t for life keeping me accountable to keep going, I’d have let myself drown.

I can’t remember the day I felt the giant balloon in my guts finally pop. I can’t describe if it was more of an instantaneous snap or a gradual deflation. I can remember feeling the sun a little bit more on my skin, I can remember singing along to songs that I hadn’t uttered the words to in months, I can remember for the first time feeling a solid contentment, and like I could finally take a deep breath again. I kept promising myself for years I just had to keep hanging on a LITTLE bit longer. I kept saying day after day, “just one more day, just one more week, just one more month”. Just one more, just one more. Just one more chance for that person. Just one more new thing to learn. Just one more uncomfortable date til you find the one.

Just one more, just one more.

Just one more, for just a few years, for just a little while longer. This was the internal mantra of my mind playing on a loop over and over, because I couldn’t dare take into account that it’s gonna take far more than just one more to get me to where I need to be. That was too much; that was not plausible. This was something I learned in high school for four years straight. “Just one more rep, just one more toss, just one more run through” they used to shout across the color guard floor to us. And, like the fools we were, we believed them. But it always got us to push past our misconceived limitations we set on ourselves far better than “one more hour and five more reps to go” would. Just one more, and here I am.

I feel like everything is beginning to click. I feel like maybe, just maybe, these puzzle pieces I carved from scratch are beginning to fall into perfect harmony to make sense. As an artist, they tell you that you have to be able to envision the piece and how to assemble it, even if you don’t quite know how, or if the process looks a little messy. The process, I’ve learned the hard way, will ALWAYS be messy. The process is what it takes to make the piece; the fine tuning and detailing are what it takes to finish the piece. Too many people think they have to have the fine details to make it work. Everyone fears the commitment to the process, and want the finished product before making the attempt. This is what I’ve learned from my relationships with friends, family, and lovers these past few years. This is what I’ve been trying to hold on to for dear life, and apply on the daily to abolish my fears and worries.

Just one more, and I’m finally at the fine detailing of my piece.

I’ve discovered a lot about myself this past year, maybe more so than the couple before it. I’ve learned that I should cherish what I have, and not linger on the past. I’ve learned that even though someone can love you so purely and wholly, if you aren’t taking care of addressing your unattended issues, it won’t matter. I’ve learned that if you truly want someone to be happy, sometimes you must disappear from their lives – for the better. I’ve learned that you should believe in patterns, not words. I’ve learned that if you don’t set standards for how you want to be treated and loved, you will always open the door for mistreatment and neglect. I’ve learned that I shouldn’t settle for something that doesn’t work for me, just because I want it – nor should I force anything or anyone else to settle for my fucked up ways. I’ve learned that I’m so much stronger than I give myself credit for and that with continuous work, I could really turn myself into someone impressive, someone who can lead and prosper and learn and influence. I’ve learned that I can handle change WAY better than I thought. I’ve learned that even when I’ve wanted to die, I have had a desire to live so much more that I fucking made it through.

And, plot twist of the century, I’ve learned that I can look you in the eyes for the first time in years and feel okay about myself, regardless of what you may or may not think anymore.

Bad Side of 25 has been the anthem of my 26th year, and justly so. I used to think it was a sad and pitiful feeling, losing sight of the good years and heading into the “bad”. But as I approach 27 faster than I’d like to, I’m realizing that I’m not alone and everything WILL be alright again. Where I’ve made it to now alone proves this to be true. I’m nowhere near the peak but I’m far from the bottom.

Just one more, just one more, and I’ll make it there.

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canaryatlaw · 6 years

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well today was pretty good (though right now I’m slightly sad about something unrelated I’m not going into). kitty jumped on me to feed her at precisely 4:55 am, and I was like well at least I get two more hours of sleep from here 😂 and I of course got up for real when my alarm went off at 7. same old same old, got ready and got on my way. my schedule for the day included observing a deposition at 11 which is kinda early, I’m generally still in court at that point, so I figured it would make the most sense to just stick with the lawyer who was doing the deposition in court this morning so I could make sure I got out of there in time for it. So I texted her, the really intense lawyer lady who likes me lol and planned to meet her in the courtroom. I got there early, because that’s how I do things, and got started on the orders, based on the (limited) case information I had, then when I was done with those I ran to the other courtroom to grab their forms (they each have the specific courtroom number printed on them so they’re not interchangeable and started filling those out for that case so I’m just super on top of things as we had a 9 am case, a 9:15 case, and a 9:30 case, so obviously back to back. So we’re waiting in the courtroom for the first case, and 9 am passes and the judge hasn’t showed up yet....gets to 9:15 and he’s still not there (that’s judges for ya)....so lawyer goes to check in the other room for the 9:15 case but they aren’t up yet but then not too long after that they are and she’s just like WELP guess you’re handling the case in here, she already spoke to OPC and worked it all out all I had to do was literally step up and say my name, which I’m technically not supposed to be doing yet but I mean I might be able to do it by like this week so??? so this was technically the first time I stepped up on a case completely on my own with nobody in the room supervising me, so that was kinda cool, even if I legit only said “Rachel (last name) for the plaintiff.” so yeah, that was cool. That ended quickly, so I went to the 9:30 courtroom to catch up with the lawyer there, finished that case and then we went back to the office. Since it was an 11 am deposition they usually prep the clients an hour before, so by the time we got there the clients were already there, so we went straight to the conference room and started talking. yet another rear end accident case, this time with an older couple who was going out a few days before Christmas to pick up a “Honey Baked Ham” from a place with that title, which is like, the sappiest sweetest thing I’ve ever heard lol but since both of them were there and are plaintiff’s on the suit they were gonna depose both of them. The OPC was pretty chill, apparently he does a lot of work with our firm (like a LOT) because he reps for all the insurance cases from a company in this region, so he’s around a lot lol. but yeah he was never pushy or anything, so that was nice. the husband testified first and he was pretty good, upfront and honest but in a good way. the wife’s testimony was a lot shorter because the husband already testified to like the facts of the accident so we just needed her take on things. she was pretty good as well, but seemed slightly less aware of where she might be giving damaging testimony, but that’d probably be easily fixable with some witness prep sessions before trial if it goes to trial, which I doubt it will given today’s depositions. so that was good. by the time we got out of that it was like 12:30, for some reason I was really craving a deli sandwich, so I typed “deli” into google maps and found one a few blocks over that was this italian place with like classic deli sandwiches and other italian stuff and it basically sounded perfect so I headed over there. Got an awesome sandwich that was very good, so I will definitely be frequenting this spot in the future. So that was a nice little break. Back to the office afterwards, I typed up the deposition notes and gave my thoughts, then started on this big project I just got assigned which is basically to review all of the cases this one attorney has and fill out a 6 page assessment for each of them, and there are 118 of them, sooooo that’s gonna take a while. one issue was at this point I still didn’t have access to one of the info databases I would be pulling this info from, so I was told I would get access to that soon but for now only had the one. she had said to start with the older cases, so I went through and looked for the ones that had dates from the 2000′s (there really wasn’t anything stretching further back than that) and found a couple cases, but when I looked them up in the system there were just like, zero files in there whatsoever and no proof litigation was ever filed, so that means there’s like zero information to pull all the answers I’m supposed to have for this sheet from, so I ended up just having to fill in the cursory details and highlighting the cases in yellow on the spreadsheet so I’d know I have to come back to them. And that took up most of the rest of my afternoon. Headed home at 5, train wasn’t too bad, got here just as Jess did since it was the night of the Arrow premiere, then I struggled to mince garlic because I couldn’t find my damn garlic press all while kitty repeatedly was jumping on the counter even after I removed her many times, so I eventually asked Jess to occupy her so I could at least cut my damn garlic in peace since I’m not very good at that anyway. but I finished that and then continued making our “korean bbq bowls” which are probably a lot more simple than they sound, but they turned out pretty well so I was happy with that. I cooked some extra rice because the fried rice recipe I want to try out absolutely insists you have to use leftover rice in order for it to be any good, so I guess we’ll see how that goes. So we ate and watched Arrow, a fairly decent premiere episode. the personal highlight for me, in case you couldn’t tell by the URL switch, was confirmation that Laurel Lance (well, E-2 LL) is in fact now the district attorney of star city which makes ZERO FUCKING SENSE but I give literally no fucks because I’m so happy this is happening. MY LAWYER SUPERHEROES and I know she’s probably more of a villain at this point still but I mean she’s getting there, okay? so proud of my bby. Dinah was great too of course. I was pretty much cracking jokes for most of the prison scenes about Oliver actually having killed a shit-ton of people and would have a life sentence in any other situation. but yeah, not bad. afterwards we stayed on to watch the Constantine animated feature, which was......certainly animated (it was rather odd, really) but we mostly watched it for the legends sneak peeks which did not disappoint. And when that was over we started on season 2 of Galavant which was of course very entertaining. and then Jess left and I started getting ready for bed but now it’s 12:37 am and I am very tired so I’m going to go to bed now. Goodnight babes. Stay wonderful.

#daily journal #October 2018 #Jess tag #Rachel's lawyer adventures #Rachel watches Arrow

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fitlifeblueprints · 3 years

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The 5 pillars of FitLife

Fit life is such a general statement. So much can apply to it. It is such a simple approach and yet so overcomplicated.

When we say that someone look or live fit, what we, exactly refer to. Do we address the health aspect, or we judge by the outside look? When we decide to take that approach, what we are, actually thinking to change.

Today I thought I would share with you, what is, in my opinion the right approach. What I realize with the years of mistake and growth. I am going to list the steps that each person who finally decided to change his/her life should check, in order to achieve optimum health, permanent results, and as a side effect, good looking body.

Without further ado, let’s get started.

1. Prioritize sleep.

It is by far the most important pillar of health. The most underestimated tool for performance. The reason for so many accidents and diseases. The free supplement, people neglect in their arsenal. The ultimate recovery tool.

Our body is constantly exposed to damage. We think, create, move, work, train. We are constantly testing our physical abilities. We are constantly using or body resources and grinding the materials by just simply living. Night is the time to rest and recover. When we sleep, we rebuild the damaged tissue, make it stronger and more resilient.

I will give you an example:

Few months ago, I was learning the handstand. I was strong enough to hold it against the wall, but I was struggling a lot with the balance. I tried so many stuff. Training modalities, consistency, metronome for counting. And the furthest I got, was 10 sec of hold.

At that time, I happened to be reading the book “Why we sleep” by Dr. Matt Walker. One of the most eye opener for me personally. Such an interesting read. Did you know that lack of sleep is the number one cause of car accidents? Mind-blowing, right? Well I decided to test it and priorities my sleep. Yes, that meant no more Netflix and popcorn at night. No artificial or bright light and not eating around 2 hours before bed. I simply developed a routine that allowed me to have quantity (at least 7 to 8 hours) and quality (allowing my body to secrete melatonin) sleep.

As a result. 3 days later I held the handstand for whole 20 sec. That blew my mind.

It is not going to fix all your health problems, but it is worth trying. It is simple to manipulate. Trust me, you will be surprised.

2. Food intake.

As we already know, our body is constantly damaging and repairing itself. During rest we recover and rebuild, but we need the building blocks to do so. Let me ask you something. If you have the best engineers and machines on earth, but no bricks and cement, will you ever be able to build a house? And If you have the wrong size bricks and poor-quality cement, how strong is that house going to be?

See, food is the main source of energy and we must prioritize it too. Nowadays we have access to so much, I can’t even call it food, products which are full of toxins, preservatives, chemicals and what not. And all, to make it more palatable, have longer shelf life and be convenient. No surprise though. The industry must make tons of money after all. But all those bad quality foods-like products are fooling the society and are making that incredible machine called human body to function not as intended. To function with dis-ease.

There are thousands of recipes for a super tasty, delicious meals. And you can be creative too. Add your favorite spices, favorite sources of food, customize your cultural dishes to a healthier option and enjoy it.

And here is a perfect place to add something that I will be diving deeper in another blog, and that is the restriction part. Rather than restricting, learn how to not overindulge. In other words, when a colleague of yours ask you to go to the bakery for some chocolate desert, instead of saying “I cant have it”, learn to say I don’t want it, because… . There is time and place for everything, and everything in excess is bad.

3. Movement

There is no doubt at the phrase: Movement provides energy. When we move, every single cell in our body moves too and create electrical current signals. Have you ever felt sleepy and after a friend forced you to move or to stand up, you instantly get excited and the tiredness went away? Do a little test. Next time you are doing something stationary for longer and you feel tired, just count to 3, stand up and do some movements. Jumping, squatting, push ups, or even a short walk. It is simple. If we don’t move, we do not provide electricity, without electricity we have no energy, without energy, there is no life.

There is the other end of the movement, where people move so much, usually by training, so they overtrain. See, our body recovers at a certain state, with certain speed and has a limit to it. if we exceed the ability of our body to recover, in other words, on a regular basis, we damage more than we recover, we will end up degenerating.

I am going to dive deeper in another blog, but I want to quickly address the activity dislikes.

Activity does not have to be at the gym, lifting for the sake of it or running on the track, because your neighbor does it and he had managed to drop 20 kg for 1 year. Activity must be your preferred way of movement. There are so many sports that you can practice. Swimming, jumping rope, climbing, running, walking, cycling, dancing, moving objects, doing exercises with your body weight. List is so long. Try stuff, find your own thing and be active, because you like it, in order to be healthy. Fall in love with the process. Get better at that craft. Live happily.

4. Be happy.

If you don’t know what makes you happy, how are you going to know when happiness arrives.

Today`s days we are constantly running. Running towards stuff that we are thought to believe will give us happiness. We believe that more money, more possessions, more success will give us what we have ultimately wanted.

The sad truth is that most of the time we are fouled by our ego. See every time we are insulted, being laughed at, criticized, or even simply tease by someone, the ego kicks in.

It is the ultimate motivator. It is the voice in the back of our head saying “I will prove them wrong. It is, when your friend teased you, about how bad bartender you are, so you spent the next 4 years becoming the best bartender in the area, instead following your true desire – psychology. Sound familiar?

And what changed? We are so drowned into what we should, and should not do, where we should stay in the society, so we forget our own needs and believes. We push and push hard to prove someone, or ourselves and when we get to the destination, we suddenly realize that nothing changed. Everything Is the same, people still judge us, but now about something else. The only thing that changed – 4 years gone.

The point I am trying to make is that we should really take a step back, slow down and assess, what we truly want. Dance, sing, climb, study java script…, whatever. Reassessing the core values in our life which have been the bricks for the house we have been building.

We are constantly searching for the happiness, we truly desire, but are we pursuing the right one?

5. Be aware of your body needs.

The last, but not least is to be aware. To be present. To be able to know the reason for the condition we are in. Why am I feeling this way? Why I have this pain, why am I bloated, why I have no energy, why am I so moody today.

Almost all our health problems are result of the way we live. We are so drowned in today`s modern life, that we simply live on autopilot. We do not listen to our body. And the beauty of it is to learn to differ the signals. What does my body want? What does my body need?

If your grandma made your favorite cream dessert, which makes your mouth wet, just by thinking of it. Well maybe you can just taste a small piece and leave another one for tomorrow, instead of eating half of it and feeling heavy, bloated and tired the next day.

If your hips and lower back are fried form the heave deadlifts yesterday, but you just watched the legend Ronnie Coleman squatting for reps with 800 lb (360 kg), you get super motivated and want to go and smash your next PB. Well, may be that is not exactly what your body needs. You can do some hips and lower back mobility instead.

Being aware, simply mean to be accountable. This is where growth happens and therefore permanent life changes.

Instead of blaming the situation, the people around, the government, god, the universe. Have a look at the way you live your life. There might be a room for improvement.

#fitness #health #behealthy #befit #bestrong #healthylife #fitlife #fitlifestyle

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michellemuniz · 7 years

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Disconnection

Hurricane María devastated Puerto Rico. One month later (without forgetting Puerto Rico was hit by Hurricane Irma two weeks before María), most of the island still has no electricity and many are still without water service. During those first weeks after María hit, I would wake up and -for a second- wish everything was just a bad dream. I would then open my Facebook app and realized -once again- it wasn't. That first week, I would go to restaurants and hear people talking about it, and I run into my neighbors who quickly asked about my family.

I was in Puerto Rico when Irma hit (September 6) and when I left Puerto Rico (September 19th morning) I felt guilty. I had to return to Miami to deal with my flooded apartment after Hurricane Irma also hit Florida. I knew the threat of Hurricane María was serious and, as my flight was taking off, I was questioning myself if I was prioritizing a broken window over the safety of my own family. I was terrified about what could happen while I was away. That night was a long night (ask Sofía who had to help me clean the mess at my apartment so we could stay there! thank you, Sof!). Although my mom had phone service most of the time, the very last picture I saw coming from my best friend Keishla was her glass sliding door uncovered after the wood panel flew away -due to the winds- even before the worst part hit. We didn’t hear from her for 2 days. Phone service was 100% down.

However, even though my Facebook feed has been all about Puerto Rico, I have friends in the mainland (non-Puerto Ricans) who are completely disconnected from what’s happening. More than once -in the past few weeks- I’ve been told: “I just haven't been following up what’s going on (in Puerto Rico).” A lot of people did see the president throwing paper towel to Puerto Ricans... but that’s it.

(Fallen tree on my street after hurricane Irma... yep... not María.)

My friend Sofía was stranded in Miami after not being able to fly back home after attending a meeting in North Carolina. She ended up staying for 1 week and a half. Two days before she was able to fly back, she got a phone call -for the first time after the hurricane hit- from her boyfriend who lives in the southwest region of the island. Since September 20th, I kept texting and calling friends all across the island without getting any response. That week many of us in the diaspora kept asking each other the same question: “Have you been able to talk with your family?”

The morning of September 20th few local journalists started posting videos about the devastation. I had voice messages on my phone from friends where I could literally hear the strong winds. I was able to follow a Facebook Live video where I could see my neighborhood of Cupey. The deep sadness I still feel, even writing this a month later, is inexplicable.

I’ve been reading and watching a lot of videos about this, from [North] American press coverages (s/o to CBS’ David Begnaud) to videos posted by locals... from pictures of devastation to videos of people drinking local beer in a destroyed bar...from local press conferences to the interviews of the “Nasty” San Juan Mayor. I’ve been listening to Puerto Rican radio and I’ve also had the opportunity to -after few weeks- talk with people in the Island. Although we are definitely resilient and want Puerto Rico que se levante, I can sense a deep sadness and frustration. But it feels like -in the mainland- people in general do not understand what’s going on on a bigger scale.

“In 1898, American troops invaded Puerto Rico...” “...Puerto Ricans didn’t invite the United States Armed Forces. It was invaded, so with that invasion comes responsibility”. Rep. Nydia Velázquez could've not said it better during a hearing where she demanded urgency with what was going on in Puerto Rico:

https://www.facebook.com/CSPAN/videos/10156114246015579/

I often wonder if we really need to constantly bring up our citizenship to have a valid demand of aid and support from the US, or if is it that the US keeps forgetting we aren't allowed to get aid from any other country (see Jones Act). There is a humanitarian crisis where basic needs are just not met, US Government keeps bragging about the “great things they do” (PR Governor seems to be the only one who agrees, es un caga’o), while people are literally dying in hospitals and houses. At the same time, people in the US continue their lives without a minimal concern about how their government is failing other people. I can’t have that privilege and luxury of being disconnected. We are talking about my people. I care and I am upset the people that live next to me don’t.

Yesterday, I was able to talk on the phone with my best friend Keishla for a little bit over an hour. In over a month, we haven't been able to talk for more than 10 minutes, and it felt like an accomplishment... like one step closer to “normality” (normality meaning being able to talk without any limitations... and I know that that sounds weird and unnecessary. I’ve also been thinking a lot in the complains I hear from [North] Americans with even more stupid stuff! So... there’s that).

However, there is a lot more to do. Puerto Rico’s struggles, economic disparity and lack of access to resources didn’t start after María, but centuries of colonization are surely on the spotlight right now after the weak response in a dire situation like this.

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confringo- · 5 years

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2019 Goals

Am I supposed to be writing right now and instead procrastinating by penning a blog under the guise of “lubing up” my writing chops so I can be ready to write what I need to write today?

Little Mix voice: Hell Yeah I Am!

(Dances to Joan of Arc for three times.)

Anyway, here are my goals for this year and they’re way more than I thought they would be, so I categorized them:

Health Goals

1. Lose 10 inches from my waistline by the end of the year.

5 inches by June

5 inches by December

I went buckwild with the whole “goals need to be SMART - Specific, Measurable, Attainable, Relevant, Time-Bound” thing. I’m not remotely fucking around this year. I’ve deleted my Tinder and Grindr. Literally no Fucking Around. Also, got no time for men.

This is definitely something I’m gonna struggle with. I’m already not exercising and I’m losing days, but there is still the next day and the next day. Can’t be losing all those inches within a week. That would be unhealthy and I’m not about that. I’m not gonna lose weight just for the sole purpose of being pretty or so I can fit in my fucking clothes. I’m turning 25 this year. I don’t want to grow up regretting all the shitty food I’ve been eating and then paying for it in medical bills. No sir. I will not be a miserable old fuck who can’t walk around or climb stairs. I wanna be a miserable old fuck who CAN.

I can already feel my hypertension acting up again and I’d rather not freak my mom out about it. I need to lose weight, and that’s not just society talking.

2. Learn to cool 6 vegan meals (not snacks)

Again, I’m doing this thing where I need to be healthy. Also, I need to do this thing where I learn some actual domestic skills because growing up all comfortable with maids is not helpful anymore. I need to shape up and get some adult points. Can’t be level 5 adult forever.

This means I need to learn 1 meal per two months. It’s not that fucking hard @ self.

3. Clean room while listening to a new Night Vale episode.

The one sure way to know how deep I am in my depression is the state of my room. The state of my room also sends me into this self-destructive spiral of hate and lethargy. As it get dirtier, I get dirtier on the inside. Clutter begets clutter. Therefore, I will force myself to clean and declutter bi-monthly (eyyy 20biteen!!!)

This will not cure me of the Sads but at least a clean room is something less to stress about. Unfuck The Year!

Writing Goals

I’m dreading this already.

1. Finish HSHL (His Smile, His Laugh) by June 30th, 11:59PM

Wanna hear something funny? I was meant to finish writing my outline on December 31st. Right now, I’m procrastinating from finishing it. LMAO ROFL. FUck Me. But hey, I made it a goal to finish it within the week and I’m on what I like to call “Act V” of the outline so I just need to focus. I’m not doing that now but I sincerely hope that by finishing this blog I’ll be all “lubed up” for it.

2. Submit draft to AT LEAST 25 agents starting July 15th.

Gotta do that break yo. One teacher at my grad school residency talked to us about SMART goals and this was one of them. Submit the draft, sure. But aim for something. 25 agents is a good number. I’ll do more if I have to. We did a project on finding agents too so I can’t say I’m wholly unprepared.

3. Submit 3 stories to 10 journals/magazines

Listen. I don’t want to have to play the game but Capitalism Makes Moral Compromisers of Us All. That said, I started a writing twitter where I will be “networking,” something I’ve been dreading since I started grad school. Nevertheless, it’s a necessary evil. We are social creatures. Until such time I have fuck you money, I’m gonna have to do this. But also, I do genuinely want to support other writers. We’re all humans and I wanna do this thing where I tell writers about how much I love their writing. It will make me feel good that they feel good. Also, that’s good karma.

But anyway, this is also a good way to stretch my writing muscles. Avoid burnout. Keep things going. Plus, it’s a good way of practicing how to be thrifty with words since most of these things require a Word Count Limit. As you know, and as you can see, I don’t know when to shut up.

4. Finish “Julian’s Body” by February 28, 11:59PM

Guess who’s still writing Dalton fanfiction in 2019. This person! I’m like a few chapters away to the end. Might as well get it out of the way so that I stop feeling bad about it.

5. Finish “Forgive My Weakness” by January 31, 11:59PM

Another fanfic to finish. The fanfic I’m procrastinating on Today. I’m almost kinda done. This shouldn’t take another week. I hope.

6. Read at least one book/full lit mag/journal per month.

Again, an easy in theory goal. I’m reading Three Dark Crowns right now and I’m loving it but I’m also not reading it so...fuck. However, this is something I should stick to because I just finished reading Autoboyography by Christina Lauren and it gave me all those nice writing feels. Reading fuels writing and it’s easy to forget.

Work Goals

I’m quitting my current job in April. It’s no longer the right fit for me. I don’t want to get into great detail about these but I just want what’s best for my account before I leave it.

1. Set up QA team by April 1st, 12:00PM

2. Set up monthly incentive program by April 1st, 12:00PM

3. Set up phone rep incentive by April 1st, 12:00PM

4. Do minimum 4 writing workshops at Spark

This city does not need a Creative Writing teacher so I need to make do with what I have. There’s this cafe that allows people to do drawing/calligraphy workshops. My friend said that I could do writing workshops as well so this is the plan for 2019. I won’t have a stable job, I fear. I hope I get something to push through but if all else fails, I’m gonna fight tooth and nail to get a teaching career going, even if it’s all super amateur.

Money Goals

1. Get new debit card from BPI by March 17th, 12:00PM

Since I’m quitting my job, I’m also going to be losing my debit card so I need to set a new one up before I do so. Then this means I have to change my Amazon, my PayPal, my Spotify, and my Patreon and that’s gonna be sooooo annoying.

2. Pay mom back for treadmill by end of year.

I still owe her a lot of money and if I want to be rid of my guilt, I will have to finish paying her.

That’s pretty much it. There are of course some resolutions I still have like talking to my friends more and helping my sister out with her current situation with our mom. (Not fun, super dumb, why she too christian for her own good.) But I didn’t put them in as goals because I haven’t figured out how to word them in such a way. Resolutions are tough to follow through because of the wording. Still, I want to improve my personal life but that’s going to be up to me. These are the most important goals I want to hit and I’m gonna get through them, sweat and tears and blood and all.

I’m afraid.

I’m unprepared.

I’m procrastinating.

But you know what? I’m capable.

#Joey's diary #Goals

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