#i need structure and responsibility that i just cant give myself

[traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors]

hi, i wanted to get any kind of input or opinion because i think theres something really wrong with me. ive always been obsessed with labels and terms to identify myself, always switching them around and finding a new one regularly to base myself off of. right now at least i have no actual sense of identity and its very possible i could just be reaching because i tend to do that a lot but i dont remember a time where i genuinely had a hold on who i was, aside from when i had a really unhealthy obsession with one singular person for about 2 years. my entire life and mental state revolved around them during that time and to be honest, even though we arent on speaking terms anymore, still seeing them on socials messes me up pretty often.

anyway, the main issue is that i dont really know who i am or who i even want to be. i cant even really keep a name/nickname to go buy for longer than a few months only because i know it inconveniences the people around me (however few there are now). and thats another thing! im really iffy about making connections with people now because a lot about it makes me uncomfortable, like the responsibility and having to deal with another person all the time. i know that sounds really shitty, but i feel like i spent all my love ill ever have on that one person for two years and now that its gone, its never coming back. im still very lonely now but the thought of trying to fix that is really uncomfortable to me. its not that im incapable of making friends, its that after a while ill kind of get tired of them? something about consistency makes me restless and i know its shitty because im a really up and down kind of friend, like recently ive only been talking to people when i feel like it, which is one big reason i dont want to make friends and put people through that.

back to the labels and identity thing. its always kind of been there, but recently the urge to cling to some sort of label or answer for my behavior and thoughts and feelings has been so strong that i almost wish i was genuinely delusional or something. or just that something was seriously wrong with me, just so that i have something new and big to cling to. i know thats bad and unhealthy but i dont know how else to function. ive been thinking recently that i have a lot of narcissistic traits, or at least self centered tendencies. i always operate like im the main character. i always do things with the thought in mind that there will be no negative outcomes for me, and if there so happens to be one, then ill somehow weasel my way out of it. i think that everything will always go well for me, which is weird because it very much has not in the past. a lot of bad things have happened to me, but in a weird fucked up kind of way im glad they did. because now i have some sort of trauma to cling to and roll into my identity. but the flaw in that is that i need a new one every so often. i cycle through different traumas and disorders and sexualities and genders and names and everything that i really, genuinely dont know who i am. and thats why i think somethings wrong with me. because what normal person thinks and operates like this? i dont know if i fully described the reality of my situation, or if im just saying that because i want it to seem worse, but thats about it. sorry for the long ask. i hope you can get around to answering

Hi anon,

I think to some degree its okay to like labels, as they can provide us a sense of structure and being able to name things can give a lot of people comfort. It's also okay to change your identity, as identities are fluid and naturally change over time. You're allowed to change your identity as many times as you want because it's literally yours to dictate, you know?

However, there are many different possibilities as to why you may be experiencing this frequent shift in identity. While I can help explain what these possibilites might be, it is crucial to consult with a mental health professional for an accurate assessment and diagnosis.

One of the possibilities is that you could have some narcissistic tendencies, as from my understanding of NPD, it's about basically trying to regain control of feeling worthless or helpless by constructing a reality of grandiosity that can be incredibly fragile (please correct me if I'm wrong).

Also in the realm of personality disorders, the idea of having "identity disturbance" and "unhealthy obsessions" with someone is characteristic of BPD. Identity disturbance, also sometimes called identity diffusion, is described as an "incoherence, or inconsistency in a person's sense of identity. This could mean that a person's goals, beliefs, and actions are constantly changing. It could also be that the person takes on personality traits of people around them, as they struggle to have and maintain their own identity." Of course, you can experience identity disturbance without BPD, but it's still a common experience among pwBPD.

Another possibility is tired to when you said "i cycle through different traumas and disorders and sexualities and genders and names and everything that i really, genuinely don't know who i am" as it reminded me of how a system might experience their identity, especially if they don't realize they're a system. This is not me saying you're definitely a system, but the possibility of plurality could be something to explore further as well.

Ultimately, this could be something to explore further with the guidance and mediation of a mental health professional such as a therapist, who can work with you to identify more concretely why you may be experiencing these things. They can also help you navigate these feelings and provide guidance tailored to your specific needs.

It's important to practice self-care and be gentle with yourself as you navigate your identity. Please know that it's okay to take your time and embrace the journey of self-discovery. If anyone has any additional insights or suggestions, feel free to add on. Otherwise, I hope I could help, and please let us know if you need anything.

-Bun

#mod bun #trauma talks

[funkymbtifiction]

Hi, I don’t know if I’m a 9 or 6 and I have a question to you as a 6 in the secound pharagraph. Backround to why I think 6 or 9: my thinking is that I must take responsibility if I want to be happy and safe, for example if I want to be happy at work I need to make sure I am doing everything correctly and make sure things is going the way I want, otherwise I might get kicked or cause something bad, no one can do it for me and I cant except it to just work out. If I would except things to just work out it would mean that I would need to distance myself from the world in order to ignore it and let other people make all the decision, my voice would be gone and I would not be happy or myself (when this happens I think it’s a 9 problem and therefore I might be 9). My main concern is if I am not able to be myself and that’s the fear of the 9. However I think I combat that by thinking a lot and making sure I am safe. If I am loyal and safe, then I can be myself, I must take responsibility to be a good person and closely make sure I will not get in trouble if in order to be safe to be myself. This is 6 behaviour and not 9.

Yes, that is a 6 motivation for behaving yourself : "I want to be safe, so I will be careful what I say/do." The 9 wants to be CALM, so they are careful what they say/do. If you are avoiding trouble out of fear of reprisals, that is 6, not 9.

A question to you as you are a 6 please, do you always feel anxiety? I just think a lot and make sure I have control, which I think is DRIVEN by fear of things, but I don’t FEEL FEAR all the time when I do it.

No. I feel fear only when something happens and I won't know the outcome for a while, or when someone proposes something without giving me enough time to think about it. Most of the time, it's not fearful thinking so much as strategic thinking to avoid problems. It can be as simple as thinking about how to design the front of a house and avoid drainage problems, or which route to take into town to encounter the least amount of traffic. Before appointments or being 'due' somewhere, I experience some nervousness as I hope it all goes the way I want it to. I spend a lot of time planning -- not for worst-case scenarios so much as mentally structuring what I intend to do the next day, or in what order to suggest we do things. I think that helps me feel 'oriented' in the world, since it lets me know what to expect. And yes, it's the control you mentioned -- wanting to have it, so things turn out the way I want them to.

Anxiety is more... a disorder, whereas 6-ness is more "living life from the mind." Being in your head, at a distance from raw reality, and in always THINKING about things. It needn't even be anxious thinking, although what comes out of our mouths is usually attentive to what would be cautious, prudent, or responsible.

#question #enneagram #enneagram 6

[tenthgrove]

Anon sent me a very wonderful ask about Myriad Trickery last night but I don't want to spoil the story for anyone who hasn't read it, so I'm pasting the ask under cut along with my response.

hi my name is not important but what IS important is that you handcrafted Myriad Trickery and you are the finest argument of why i phucking love fanfic SOOOO much. you have crafted a storyline i never even thought about and put a Metric Ton of care into story structure, worldbuilding, and RELATIONSHIPS, (yes relationships, not just romance because y/n getting to know the squad is SO WELL ILLUSTRATED, like the progression is so delishus. especially with pros. oh to be someone named celeste with a shitty ex husband and smol kids you need to get back --- anyway) like. shit these last few chapters Hurt me. i would like. beat my own ass up for making my babies so sad. so mad. smad. but like, you gotta get your money tho. so shoutout to y/n and wanna know for doing what they have to do with their skillset. also can we talk about y/n l/n for a second?? making them a P.I.??? in-fucking-spired. doing The Absolute Most with 4 entire personas and using them to sink their fingers into hardened criminals and SUCCEEDING at making most of them catch feelings???? teach some classes please because i cant even do that with 1 person!!! (lets leave out the fact that y/n fell too because the squad is so fun to be around.) y/n being knowledgeable in stealth n subterfuge, AND armed with their wits to get as far as they did despite not being an indestructible tank??? we cant all be like jotaro so we make do babey, and thats part of why i love y/n so damn much. im too soft, im not a tank at all and i dont want to hurt anyone or make them sad (well unless they do it first) but i dont even care that the difference between me and y/n is the one with jupiter and phuckin earth. y/n is engaging asf and going thru their thoughts is a treat. like its not ME me, but the way you write them makes me feel like i understand them completely. so i have an easier time immersing myself without anything getting me out of that immersion. your writing????? has me on the edge of my seat. im even using my voice to say their lines!!! y/n and i…… we r kind of dumbasses tho but im a corporate slave 8/5……. still. i wanted to read the next chapter on ao3 so hard, i was legit sneaking peeks at my phone at work -- very risky because we got undercover unauthorized breaktime snitches --because i wanted to know all the juicy details of what was going down, and now i regret it because im finished with the chapters on ao3. i want to experience the story for the first time again but you can only experience something for the first time only once!!!!! im gonna reread my fave parts, which is everything with prosciutto because he is my absolute favorite. but like, im happy you're here on tumblr so i can send all this directly to you. you make me want to print Myriad Trickery out and have it bound so i can pull it off my shelf and read everything cover to cover, like a bedtime story. i dont have the words to thank you enough for the monumental effort you did to give us this story except for: thanks so much for giving Myriad Trickery to us for free. shit if i were a publisher i would want to give you a book deal but for now here is a big ole virtual kiss for you for imparting the greatest reader insert saga -- yes. a wholeass saga -- ive ever read.

Hello anon! Where to begin?! I cannot describe how much it means to me that there are people this invested in my silly little stories. I'm a person who writes more for comfort than actual writing merit but MT is one of the few stories where I really wanted to create something to be proud of on a literary front, and that's what makes it so hard but rewarding to write.

The good news is that I absolutely do want to continue the story. I started a planning document for the next chapter soon after the last and it's been empty until last night, when I finally got down a paragraph on how I want the next chapter to begin. My problem is that I wrote the initial plot entirely around the build up to the big twist reveal, and it's kinda hard to come down from that, but I do have a basic idea of what I want to happen.

I may just cut down the remaining plot to about 3 chapters, but no matter what form I do want to get something out.

[raikonradish]

i never make posts like this, heck, i rarely post at all.

But you know, i think i'm coming to the realization that i am indeed..lonely. I have hobbies that i use to occupy my time. Predominantly reading. I have friends that i don't talk to regularly and it's no fault of theirs..i think. They may send messages and i, like a salted slug i am, think about my fleeting existence before contemplating the possibility of giving a response.

sometimes i don't delay and i respond right away,

but sometimes i forget,

or sometimes I'm just..tired..is a good word i think. So tired that i tell myself i don't want them to deal with my apathy. That I'd be such a damn bummer that i don't to impose that onto them. And I'll respond when I'm in a better mood

But the mood doesn't always get better and when it does, maybe a week or two has passed and i don't want them to feel as if I've patronized them by "finally gracing them with my presence." And i try to think of a cool topic that would mirror their initial enthusiasm..but i don't think I'd mention anything of worth.

nothing exciting happens in my life too often, much less to report

so i don't respond

another message goes unanswered

and EVERY DAY i wake up thinking of the unread messages and how weird it would be to try and start a conversation now. I literally think of messages sent 7 months ago that i didn't respond to and what their thoughts must be of me.

Or simply that they don't think of me. Because realistically they've gone on with there life. Speaking with people that actually know how to respond to a text.

And just like that, a potential friend is gone.

And i think "HEY, you cant expect people to be putting in all the work to build a relationship. A conversation needs at least two people. PUT YOURSELF OUT THERE! STRIKE UP A CONVERSATION!!"

And i find myself inviting a few friends and we go out and it's GREAT!

i like social interaction

to an extent...

But i think i want something more?

Not a romantic relationship i think... no, i know.

Not a romantic relationship.

Have you ever just craved physical contact like food. Like..it's like a throbbing hunger pang, but it's a chest compressing, limb tingling, stomach knotting, yet hollowing kinda feeling.

i really want a hug, NO a cuddle. OMG to be able to just have someone hold you with no connotations other than they enjoy your company and just want to hold you. A great squeeze.

And i dont think that any of my current friends can provide that. And it's my fault for not having structured such a friend group.

I mean.. not structured.. but like. I haven't presented that part of my personality that would allude to the fact that that's something i would even want to partake in. So like.. i haven't put out.. feelers is a good term i think. Feelers to gauge what type of person would be okay with that and in turn build a close enough friendship, that would result in hugs.

God.

did that sound weird?

Which is why im here at 1 in the morning typing out my sad human feeling because im...tired? lonely?

FUCK im lonely.

#how do i even tag this #lonelyness #alone with my thoughts #i'm sad #sad times #lonely #i want a hug

[depresseddepot]

kids who learned an instrument growing up are superior to everyone else, actually

#this is a vent post dont be mistaken by the humor #not to be dramatic or anything. but there's a lot wrong with me that would've been solved by me just. taking band #we couldn't afford the instrument and i was a 10 year old w crippling anxiety so ofc i refused the offer to borrow or rent one #i heard my mom go 'haha....!! uh oh!! careful you don't break it!!!!!!!!!!!!haha!!' and changed my whole mind #but like i would've remedied my stage fright and i wouldve learned a genuine skill for once in my fucking life #instead of all the useless shit i know how to do that doesn't do anything #im not good at anything useful #i cant cook or bake or play an instrument or draw or speak another language #the only useful 'skill' ive learned in the last 3 years is how to use fucking chopsticks #thats it #im trying to be a little nicer to myself because if i apply myself to something i do catch on really quickly #but i am....as the kids say.....mentally ill #in order for me to feel like ive accomplished something i have to do it all by myself start to finish #but i have adhd baby!! the longest ive applied myself to anything since hs was a month of korean at the start of 2021 before spring classes! #i keep saying 'ill pick it up again in the summer' but what then? i drop it again for a year until i dont have classes again? #im trying so hard to better myself but its like half of me is always trying to sabotage it #i need structure and responsibility that i just cant give myself #and w covid everything is either online or closed and like. im starting to lose it. #im so frustrated with myself all the time #im no better than when i was 3 and frustrated at myself for not being able to talk #was the developmental issues not enough like do they really still have to be a problem as an adult #everyone around me has so many accomplishments and skills and i can what? make cinnamon rolls? #all of my interests mean nothing! everything i love distracts me from the things i want to do to better myself! this is a fact! #u know ur right im a little better in that i dont hate myself for my appearance the way i used to #but its just evolved into something that is arguably so much worse and i dont know if i can ever 'accept' this the same way i did that #covid is no excuse i have no excuse for being this fucking useless #i just want to be able to commit to things why does that have to be so hard for me #im so disappointed in myself all the time #thank you to the one person who reads these you know who you are #please know i love and appreciate you and i think abt you every day and you are much more endlessly patient w me than i deserve

[ipsomaniac]

it has been a while since my last defeatism spiral! here we go

i have no strategic intelligence, no ability to systematically and deliberately apply my mind to things, and this means that all the intelligence i do have - my self - is ephemeral, insubstantial. i lack the ability to capture any impression of my mind, in any medium, and i lack the ability to teach myself to do so.

my intelligence quickens in response to stimuli - i am expressive and creative in verbal conversation or in response to things that are in front of me. but i have no ability to create structured approaches to learn skills, create things and achieve goals. and without structure i am lost, because my intuition is broken.

my intuitive, free-flowing mental mode is entirely a passive and reactive function in response to realtime stimuli. when i try to dip into this well of fluid impressions to capture something, the act of trying to give form to an idea sets off an exponential feedback loop of meta-commentary - not only self-recrimination about my lack of skill but also indecision and criticism regarding the approach itself, the fact that even the thing i’ve chosen to capture is the wrong thing, that I am practising wrong. thus: “i have 2 hours on my weekend i can dedicate to art: i should try to have fun and be playful and enjoy the activity to reinforce a positive pavlovian response and improve my motivation. therefore i will do a painting of a photo i took, without pressuring myself to make it good. but, i notice despite myself that it is not good; i perceive i lack the skill for this to be fun; i should focus on building foundational skills first. to do that i need to do joyless exercises like live-sketching boring objects in front of me or practicing drawing lines and spheres and cylinders. but i do not have the motivation or energy to do that. first i need to build motivation; so i should do something fun...” round and round and round (that is only one layer of it).

and all of this is so insanely distracting (and happens so quickly - for self-criticism, unlike creativity, is a mental arena in which i am blessed with mercurial quickness, far outstripping the leaden pace of the creative abortion itself; within the first few lines sketched on a page or a word document i’ve constructed a kaleidoscopic cosmos of involuted meta-criticism far more grandiose than the sum total of all my creative potential) - all of this is so fucking distracting that it utterly severs the connection to my intuitive mind. and by the time i call it quits i often feel half lobotimised. struck by aphasia. shredded.

so intuition won’t get me there. and i dont know how to create structure. so perhaps i should just pick a thing i want to do - drawing, say - and get lessons. but then i have to spend time researching and deciding which lessons to commit to; and in the process of doing that, i start thinking “this is a waste of time, i should be using this time to practise instead...im doing this wrong...” round and round and round for so many years now.

when i think back to all the drawing and writing and composing shitty little songs i did when i was a kid and a teenager - when i think about the native fluency i had, how easy it was, how i just did this for fun! to relax! by instinct! ... i cant bear it

being weak-willed and strategically unintelligent like this: it’s like having a weak core, physically. this one very boring mundane part of you has atrophied and no matter how much you develop your legs and shoulders you will be weak until you fix this. to fix it you need to be smart and strategic and have a plan and be motivated to practise even when it’s boring. but all of these things require will, and strategic intelligence...

#spiralysis #babble

[thesestoriesliveforever]

21 - 25 days of productivity

IM BACK

This week has been a whirlwind. Coming back to school after spring break honestly wasn't too bad. Thanksgiving break was SO bad in comparison. Maybe it just gets better with time?

My diet hasn't been great this week but we forgot to get groceries on the weekend

Sunday - 21

Cleaning. A lot of cleaning. Which was nice. Our chores chart is working well.

Monday - 22

-printed and prepped for the whole week

-other stuff I cant remember. It was a good day, total blur

Tuesday - 23

-worked

-graded at a coffee shop

-developed activities for Thursday and friday

-went to the gym

-drank a beer while assembling booklets for the kids.

Wednesday - 24

Why are Wednesdays so bad?? I felt like hot dogshit. Its like I spend a week's worth of energy on Tuesday and give myself an introvert hangover but still need to teach.

TIL you can run out of prints. 1000 copies goes quickly.

-worked

-printed at the public library because I was out of copies

-TGIHT: thank God I had therapy. I asked my therapist about how to better structure question asking of my students. Turns out I'm still taking WAY too much responsibility for their learning. Removing myself from that helped me a lot on Thursday (today).

Thursday - 25

-worked

-jerryrigged an activity on the fly after fucking up

-went to staples to buy printer ink, bought the wrong kind AGAIN. Just bought it off of Amazon because fuck this I tried

-boot camp. Holy hell this one was hard.

Now I'm laying in bed looking at tumblr. Much better day than yesterday.

My coworker made an aesthetic terrarium to help his kids study the water cycle. It's pretty cool

#100 days of productivity #100 dop #working #coffee #studyblr #pomodoro #poetry #productivity #tgiht #therapy #terranium

[fan-clan-fun]

These cats are just a pair of siblings that I had a lot of fun working on. They are basically two sides of the same coin, foils to each other. They are members of a fan clan (I know, shocker) called HawkClan.

I apologise for any grammatical errors, weird sentence structures or anything like that, english isn’t my native language.

Wonderful! And no worries about the writing, Im always impressed by non-native english speakers and their impressive english, at least when compared to the other languages I myself supposedly speak. So let’s see what we have!

Adderstar: Massive, intimidating, a frightening foe. These are the words most cats would use to describe HawkClan’s young leader, Adderstar. But don’t let her physical appearance fool you, this huge tabby has an ever bigger, albeit squeamish heart!

Born into a litter of three, Adderkit was the biggest and strongest one. She would often be found rough housing with her two brothers and the other kits in the nursery. But with great power comes great responsibility. That’s a lesson Adderkit needed to be taught the hard way. During one of their usual play sessions she accidentally tackled one of her brothers, Shadowkit, violently, breaking one of his ribs which caused internal bleeding. Despite the medicine cat’s best efforts, Shadowkit passed away. After that, Adderkit refused to play with the other kits, especially if they were younger or smaller than her. Blazekit, angry with his sister and unable to cope with the loss of his brother, became cold, angry and distant. He now refuses to acknowledge Adderstar as anything more than a leader and lashes out at any cat who points out their obvious connection.

Interesting, Im curious about when she would have done this and how. Cats can do some serious damage, but to have the strength (unless it was aided by height or some other advantage) to cause a broken bone and internal bleeding would be quite difficult, not impossible, just difficult. But! Maybe an easier ( and even more heartwrenching) way it could have happened, was if their sibling got an infection when Adderkit played carelessly with claws out. It could have made Adderkit much more careful of how she fought. That said, I really do like this motivation, and either way if you wish to keep it, would make for a compelling character development.

Moons passed, but memories of her brother kept haunting the she-cat, even when she started her apprenticeship. Darkstar, the former leader, having seen her potential and her struggles, decided to mentor the young cat himself. Both cats were insanely stubborn, refusing to acknowledge the faults of their ways; Darkstar, too focused on battle tactics and strength, and Adderpaw, afraid of her own power and abilities. The two cats clashed on multiple occasions, but Darkstar wasn’t known for giving up a challenge. He realized that the best motivation for Adderpaw was the pain of others. He would often put himself, sometimes other cats, in dangerous situations that would require immediate action from Adderpaw to solve. This is why Adderstar is so good at fighting badgers, according to some cats. Slowly but surely, the two started to understand and trust each other.

See I like the dynamic between Darkstar and Adderpaw.... but I dont think it would be either wise  or realistic that a clan leader would allow either themselves or clanmates into a potentially dangerous situation just to encourage an apprentice. Maybe if it wasnt actually dangerous, but it would be a bit odd to put the responsibility on an apprentice to save the day, when it would be the leader’s job to do that. Unless... well I’ll address it below.

Many moons later, Adderfang was made deputy, instead of Blazestep, whom many cats regarded as the best warrior in HawkClan. This widened the rift between the two siblings even more. Adderfang never thought of becoming a leader. She just wanted to fulfill her warrior duties and get her mind off her brother’s death. She didn’t want to be a leader, she had no need for more worries.

So I do think it is very odd that Adderfang would have been chosen as deputy when the rest of the clan regarded their sibling better. That said, you could argue that Darkstar’s actions in her apprenticeship (reckless self endargerment and potential endangerment of others) and then choosing her as deputy over other better liked candidates, could point to nepotism or serious character flaws. I feel like there is more going on with Darkstar that might need to be addressed for this to work. Not impossible, but an interesting conundrum.

“He has the heart and passion of a Bear. You have the strength and clarity of a Hawk.” That was all Darkstar said. Adderfang understood none of that. Strength? Well, she had that. And what good did that bring her? Death and sadness, nothing more. Clarity? All her life, she knew nothing, but confusion. What is her place in her clan? Does a murderer even deserve a place to call home? She tried to pry Darkstar for more; she needed reasons, true reasons, not baseless statements. But Darkstar wouldn’t say more. He’d just smile, like he knew something that no other cat did. “You’ll understand one day, mousebrain.”

But even after standing on the shores of the High Lake (A/N: it’s just a big, icy lake, this is where deputies are made leaders under the full moon), even after becoming Adderstar, she still couldn’t quite grasp what those words meant.

Im curious what those words mean too, I feel like there could be some background spiritual stuff going on.

Blazestep: HawkClan’s finest warrior. And also it’s angriest one, this jet black cat is one scorching inferno. He’s brash, aggressive, and he’s not afraid of showing his fangs or unsheathing his claws. How does one small, frightened kit grow up to be a walking volcano, ready to erupt at any moment?

His brother’s death hit Blazekit harder than any blow from a cat ever could. Shadowkit was the only kit willing to play with the weakling Blazekit. All the others would mock or turn their backs on him. And, playing with Adderkit was just plain sad. Even as a young kit, Blazekit could see that Adderkit was going easy on him. Never once did she shove him too hard, bit or scratched him playfully. What’s worse, she even pretended to be hurt when Blazekit tackled her or batted at her with his tiny paws. Blazekit hated all of it. He hated Adderkit and her pity, he hated the disgusted and mocking looks of the other kits. Shadowkit was the only other cat he could confide in.

And then Shadowkit was stripped away from him, by Adderkit of all cats. Blazekit was truly alone now.

Sounds like a lonely and frustrated kit, poor guy.

Adderkit tried to reconnect with him, but he rejected her pitiful attempts. It’s not like Adderkit made such a tremendous effort either: whenever Blazekit would confront her, she’d just avert her gaze, murmur something and leave with her tail drooping. Blazekit hated it. He hated how Adderkit couldn’t face the truth, how she couldn’t, no, didn’t take responsibility for her strength. Instead of realizing the power in her paws, she just hid away from it. Blazekit hated it.

Moons went by, and soon, it was Blazepaw’s turn to prove himself. His mentor, Nettlemoon was the exact opposite of the fiery tom. Nettlemoon tried to teach the young cat patience, but Blazepaw would have none of it. Despite this, he was an outstanding apprentice; he could execute most moves with ease and with little practice and he was excellent at predicting his opponent’s next move. He was just bad at catching squirrels.

But being good wasn’t enough for Blazepaw, he wanted to be the best. He’d train long and hard after nightfall, when the clan was asleep, often overworking and injuring himself. He had to get stronger. No cat will make fun of him anymore, he’ll make sure of that.

So at this point I really worry for this apprentice, and worry that neither his mentor of the clan around him seemed to notice his struggle. I cant imagine that his mentor wouldnt have noticed his injuries and addressed them. He may be hot headed and determined to be the best, but there is only so much he can get away with before he should have consequences. Then again, if you do continue with the thread of Darkstar putting himself in danger, I suppose an absent mentor wouldnt be entirely unrealistic for the clan.

He was Blazestep now, but his goals never changed. And he was going to make it. He could already see Darkstar appointing him as deputy. He could see all of those mocking glares turn into quick, wary glances filled with fear. He could see himself standing on top of The Ruins (A/N: a place for the leaders to stand during clan meetings, it’s just an old church overgrown with weeds and trees), fur blowing in the wind, looking down at HawkClan. He could see himself racing towards battle, his clan at his back and Shadowkit at his side.

And then it was stripped away from him, by none other than Adderfang.

So I am curious about why the clan ended up liking (or at least respecting) Blazestep more than Adderfang, at least that was what I understood since it seemed he was considered a better warrior by the clan. He does seem to have a lot of anger issues to work out, so with your explanation of his character it makes a bit more sense that his sister is deputy, but I feel like there is a disconnect between your personal discussion of the siblings personalities and how the clan perceives them. Maybe its just a case of unreliable narrator. Is Blazestep really sneaky, and hides his true anger problems and ambition? I suppose if he was clever enough as an apprentice, and didnt push himself too far he might have been able to pull the wool over his mentor’s eyes, but he would have to be very clever and careful not to injure or tire himself so much that it would affect the rest of his training. 

Anyway, I hope I didnt sound too critical, but these characters are very interesting and compelling, interesting enough that I was quite invested in them! I hope to see how you decide to write them in the end!

So, yeah, these two are the main duo of HawkClan. Sorry for the long read, I got pretty carried away while writing.

#warrior cats #non-canon clans #warriors OC #warriorsworldbuilding #submission

[cosplayinamerica]

Flareon from Pokemon // Cosplayer : Chaos in Motion

When I first discovered cosplay, the most common response I received…was no. No. You cant make that. No. You can’t wear that. No. That won’t look good. I was surrounded by the same negativity that haunts my self-esteem. I was always self conscious about what people would say when I walked around a convention. But one day…I just stopped asking. If I didn’t ask what they thought…they couldn’t tell me no. I started small. Making an accessory here. A prop there. Each tiny victory was a journey. I learned so much each time I created a new piece. I found techniques I loved and a passion for taking something like a plastic bottle and giving it a new purpose. It became less about what I looked like and more about the thrill of wearing a new creation that didn’t spontaneously combust. I went from staring at the convention room floor to reaching out to other cosplayers. Asking them how they made something or gushing about their insane skills. For a few days, I get to be proud of myself. Cosplay has brought confidence that I never thought I would find. Never let anyone tell you you can’t cosplay. For any reason. We all have someone inside just waiting to be silly or twirl across stage. To be a princess or a badass ninja for a day. Be whoever you want to be…Cosplay lets me… be me.

Beware! Wandering around a convention as a super fluffy Pokemon may result in random people wanting to pet you. Always remember to ask before touching lol ! You may scare a cosplayer right out of their boot covers. Though the best part had to be a toddler that followed me around artist alley for 15 minutes. They kept trying to steal my stars! It was the most adorable thing ever. She inspired me to start carrying a bag of stars that I can give away.

I was really looking for a challenge with my next build. Flareon, as designed by Sunset Dragon, was just the ticket. It required structure work, prop making, foam core wig addition, and ombre dying. I suppose walking around as an adorable magical fluff monster played a part to. Who doesn’t have a favorite eeveelution?

Every costume should start would a good foundation. For Flareon, I began with hoop skirt. Instead of using steel hoop boning, I saved myself a few bucks as well as some weight and used clear plastic tubing instead. I drafted my own pattern in order to find the right circumference for my silhouette.  Constructing the skirt base out of a strong twill and adding bias channels for the tubing so that it could be removed for transport. The next step was a petticoat. This was constructed of tulle, iridescent silk chiffon, and poly china silk. 3 tiers, 2 layers and a chiffon ruffle at the bottom for extra poof.

My overbust corset was next. I based my starter pattern off Yaya Han’s cupped overbust. After grading the pattern extensively, I worked through several mock ups to create a custom fit out of duck canvas. The corset was double boned at each seam with spiral steel and supplemented with flat spring steel for extra bust support. I salvaged an old bra and used the cups from that instead of the ones provided with the pattern.      

Now that I had a good base and silhouette, I was ready to build outwards. The red skirt is duponi silk with 2 in horse hair in the hem. It’s layered with two fur 3/4 circle skirts. I cut them in 3 separate panels to maintain fur direction and cut the edges for a more realistic look. All bows were made from silk with a duck canvas lining for structure. The tails and boot covers an interfaced stretch velet. I drafted my own glove pattern and used a 4 way stretch by Yaya Han. The All fabric and fur was hand dip dyed with the Ritdyemore stovetop method. The gloves,  ears, corset and bow tails are ombre dyed.

The corset was hand embellished with a gold and pearl trim and finished with gold bias tape. All of the bows are hand beaded.    The wig base is classic Arda that was styled with steam set curlers and a ton of teasing. The pigtails have a foam core and were constructed from ombre dyed wefts. They screw into a headband base beneath the wig and are removable for transport. The ears are constructed from poseable wire mesh with a fur cover. They are attached by 3 hand sewn wig clips and have openings for extra pins if needs.

The stars on the base of the skirt are plastic ornaments. They are covered with holographic headlight vinyl that was heat shaped. They can open up for a little magic dust or LEDs in the future.    The prop is fairly simple and in all honesty…made in about 3 hours. A painted wooden dowel with another plastic ornament on the top. A few foam and bead details and I have a magical staff.

#Flareon #cosplay #pokemon

[the-weeping-fox]

you save yourself.

I'll save myself this time around.

i had a feeling id hear from you on my birthday.

i thought id get a call or text though. so not winning big on that bet.

it still shakes me pretty bad.

i wonder if you knew how obsessed I was with you.

i know you have an idea, but i don't think you'll ever really know.

nothing scary. just... an overabundance of love and affection. you were my air. i wanted to breathe you in.

thought I smelled you for a second the other day when I was cleaning out my room.

its hard. I miss my best friend. I miss the love of my life.

heard your sister got engaged. bout time.

i wonder... if things never went sideways with us.. would we be married now? im sure we would've come around.

but i think thats a silly thought.. i think we were always sideways. even in the beginning. fighting and begging you to date me. christ.

hard memories and harder feelings.

lots of things have been happening to me and for me. things I wish you could share in. places I see your shadow.

waiting to schedule therapy till after my move. been processing alone. its hard. even with people who care. im trying to let go of the anger.

im really angry you hurt me. no matter how you slice it, you put me through some really awful things.

I would tell you that I had a theory that as someone got older, they would learn how to feel another Feeling simultaneously. Like, if you were 30, you could potentially feel 30 Feelings at once. Maybe some overlapping, maybe some individual.

I say this, because I feel like this is how my feelings towards you are built. I have this structure of Love and Friendship that we originally built, through fun sex and taking care of each other. But then these other really horrible feelings of Betrayal and Angry due to.. everything that happened.

I just... i was your sweet boy and you lied and hurt me. Ill never understand. I feel like a kicked Kitten. I try and put logic to it, but it just hurts me more.. trying to make sense of it. trying to put your shoes on and see it from your eyes... hurts. i don't know if ill ever understand how you could it and live with yourself.

i had some part in all of it too. i don't want to spend my life as a victim. i put so much love and faith into you. and the one thing I needed... you couldn't do.

i remember you telling me.. that sometimes I needed to just sit down and say, "you'll be okay. I love you. we'll figure it out and be okay." and that's what I needed. i was so lost in my own sadness and anger that I couldn't tell you I needed it.. but that was it. i needed to see your heart again.

anyways. i don't really want to harp on old shit. i do it 24/7 in my own head as it is.

you deleted your tumblr. never ceases to make my heart ache. but you reached out on my birthday. its.. a strange and potentially painful move. you know your number isn't blocked. so there's still a distance you want to keep. I've come to my own conclusion that it was a Bait. I responded on my old Tumblr... but after spending days pouring over the hint of a response.. i realized how gross that was and is.

I hard-loved you. I loved you with a ferocity I have never shared for anyone else. you were my one and only. I wanted to drink you in. I've had a painful time quitting you. I watched our videos... a lot. I wish i had made 1,000 more. I think i gave up trusting you somewhere along the road.

but... dangling that message.. that "but..." was... awful. I dont know if it was an open invitation to contact you or.. what. but it was.. it sucked. I would have rather had a phonecall or text or something. i don't know. I guess tumblr was the only place we could actually communicate, so maybe this was the best avenue.

I miss you. A lot. All this time and silence gives a lot of perspective. I miss your voice. i miss your smell. I miss your body. I miss your snores.

But another point of perspective is that you gave up our life. You sold that house. You got a new place that you wouldn't reveal the address to. You got new friends. You were walking away from me and us for a long time.

I get why. You spent a lot of time as the quiet girlfriend, waiting for me to tell you what I needed. but read that last sentence aloud. I was hurt. I was damaged. I wasn't going to ever be able to tell you what I needed. I needed your heart to call out to me, and it was the one thing you wouldn't do.

I hope Mittens is doing well. I cry when I think about her not being in my life. I hope I get to see her again before.. well. before anything happens to anyone.

Anyways. after I left my response to your Tumblr message... i... stopped checking it. You might have even responded. I won't know though. I probably won't know until our anniversary. I'll be there, by the way. Ill be in the spot where we figured it all out the first time. Probably get lunch and spend the day in that parking lot. I know you're not the emotional type like that, haha. Id be shocked. floored probably. might even hear me actually gasp.

...

I wouldve been a really good quarantine boyfriend. I really wonder what you think of me. what you honestly think. I mean.. it has to mean something that you left a message for me. Maybe you can't get our memories out of your head either. Im sorry if you thought I might have been trying to use you for sex or something near the end there. I wonder if that's how I came off. It wasn't how I meant to. Sex was just.. a really straight forward expression of our love and.. always felt safe and good with you. Ive had a lot of trouble trying to make that connection with anyone else. They aren't you and... i need to figure that out.

Things with Kat never came to fruition. she didnt really liked that i was too fucked up over you, haha. that would probably make your evil little heart jump. You beat Katherine in my mind. Maybe that can put how I feel about you in perspective.

I also wonder about letting you know about this blog? Maybe. Maybe as an anniversary present. But I cant imagine you want anything to do with me anymore. I really tried to salt the Earth when you left. I could feel how addicted I was to you. I had to for my own good. I wasn't strong enough to quit you.

shit. i still don't think I am. I dont even know if ill be able to move on. I dont want to. I miss you. I want to try and use my angry to curve that feeling, but love is stronger than hate. it always wins out.

so I guess I'll just keep pretending that you had my kid in some alternate universe and cry to my new friends about how some blonde girl shattered my heart.

I hope... youre okay. I think i mean that. its hard in here.

#breakup #secret blog #pennyveronica #Spotify

[magsgoestocollege]

Plans for 2020-2021 School Year

Long post ahead (something to help me process and decide my future)

If you’re new to this blog, hi, I’m Mags and I’m supposed to be a sophomore in college this year. Except my college experience got corona’d, obviously, so now we’re here.

A couple days ago, my school announced that first years and sophomores would be allowed back in the fall, and juniors and seniors would be allowed back in the spring if all goes well. The problem is I have no fucking clue what I want to do. I go to a small liberal arts college where the experience is heavily rooted in the people there. Our classes and houses are small, and we value the community above most things. With only half the campus back, and with the first years who have never been here before and us the sophomores who only got like 2/3s of a year on campus. We have no clue what we’re doing.

My class can’t be responsible for educating and helping an entire batch of new kids adjust to college life when we aren’t fully adjusted ourselves. Campus and house and club traditions are so important to our cschool culture and my class has no clue how to do them. That being said I am always Mom Friend(TM) and will absolutely take any and all first years under my wing if I go back to campus because I was super lonely last year and I don’t want anyone to feel that way again. (Check out #the dark side of college tag if you wan’t to read about that.) But the thing is... I don’t know if I want to go back to school this year.

Do I really want to go spend a year and thousands of dollars on a college experience I don’t really want? Do I want to be in a place that’s now structured like a prison for three-ish months only to be send home at the end to keep doing online classes? Do I want to be at a school where I cant see my friends? Do I want to be at a school without my upperclassmen friends who I care about and were so influential to my experience?

With only first-years on campus (and some sophomore friends), I’d end up essentially having to start my social life from scratch again. I don’t know if I can handle that. Even if COVID is a major bonding item for the whole campus. It comes down to would I rather take time off and hope things get better and we get a vaccine, or do I want to go and be on campus for a few months and be part of a historical event that metaphorically unites the school while literally dividing us.

Here are my options:

1) Go to school in the fall, be online for a month after Thanksgiving, and do my whole spring semester online (or maybe possibly in person if things get much better.)

2) Go to school in the fall semester and take the spring semester off.

3) Study remotely but not from home.

4) Take a full year off and come back 2021-2022 with hopefully a vaccine and a more normal college experience with the things I love.

4a) Take a year off and still live at home with my parents.

4b) Take a year off and move in with friends somewhere else.

Let’s break these down, shall we? (God I don’t want to.)

Option 1. Go to school in the fall. This means: reregistering for all my classes, being assigned to a new room in possibly a new house (latter is unlikely), and having part in-person part remote classes. Profs have the choice of being partially in person or fully online. It is suspected that most profs will go fully online because it’s easier to teach to the students who are still remote (mostly juniors and seniors). So living on-campus would basically be just that: living. I’d most likely end up taking online classes from my dorm room.

Everyone has a single so no need to worry about roommates, and they’re limiting the number of people on a floor to limit the number of people sharing a bathroom. All communal areas will be sanitized twice a day in the house, and as often as possible everywhere else. Masks and social distancing at all times, no more than two people in a dorm room at once, and COVID testing for everyone as often as twice a week. for meals, you pre-order on an app and pick up a grab n go container at a scheduled time to go eat it elsewhere. We don’t find out what classes will even be offered until after we commit.

I think I’ll be randomly assigned to a room, so that doesn’t really matter and I should stay in my house. Just first-years and sophomores means few house traditions. However, it gives me a chance to feel needed and goddamn if that’s not an addictive feeling. I’m excellent at planning social activities and fostering community. I think I could really help the first years adjust and help everyone adapt to the situation. I like the idea of this being a very uniting experience, living through history doesn’t happen every day. My dad agrees with this and thinks I should go basically just to say that I did. I agree.

But I don’t want to do something just because someone thinks I should. I need to make this choice because it’s what I want. I’m really struggling to separate doing what I want to because I want to and doing it because I think it’s what society wants me to do.

I’d get to see some of my friends, but not all of them. Plus, if people take time off I won’t see them and then when they get back I’l have to leave them. On the flip side, if people take time off and I do too, I’ll see them when we get back like no time passed. (Not really but like you get it.)

If I go, I won’t get to do theatre which is the thing I live for at school. I’d still get to do work with the theatre department, and arguably I’d be able to do a lot more work because the upperclassmen won’t be there so I’ll get to do more hands-on work. But my musical theatre org, the reason I’m still at my school, where all of my closest friends are won’t really exist. We can do cabaret or something but we can’t do a full show. I can’t direct anymore. I haven’t even had time to grieve the loss of my show. Do I take a gap year just to have the chance to do more shows? Logically speaking, the longer I wait to enter the theatre industry the more time it has to recover and the more jobs will be open.

A lot of juniors and seniors are planning on renting somewhere near campus so they might be able to slip into in person classes, but that kinda defeats the purpose because they’re not social distancing. However, this means some of my friends will be nearby during the fall. And one of my junior friends will be on campus in the fall for work. In the spring, the sophomores and first-years will take over leases in the spring.

Option 2. Not a great option. I’d have to be a J-term grad which is fine, but I’d miss out on all the spring traditions and I don’t really like that idea. I wouldn’t have to do online classes though. This is what a lot of people are doing. Some juniors and seniors are taking fall off and going in the spring.

Option 3. If I’m going to have to do online classes part of me wants to do it with other students somewhere I can enjoy myself. Maybe I’ll go live in the woods and do Zoom classes from my cottage. I don’t know. Or I could go live off campus so I can still feel like I’m near my friends but not take classes. Kind of like a bonus year but without the online courses. But this would mean having to learn how to live on my own with only a bare safety net, but I wouldn’t be alone.

Option 4. The only other option I’m very seriously considering. Taking a full gap year. I really don’t want to, but unless I want to be a mid-year grad or have to take at least some online classes, this is the best option. I’ve talked to some friends about maybe renting somewhere either near campus or elsewhere but I don’t know how I’d work out the logistics. I’ve never lived on my own before, and I’m not a great cook but I could learn. We’re only semi-seriously considering fucking off into the middle of nowhere and living my cottagecore dreams with some friends. 

This would mean I would become class of 2024 instead of 2023, but I would get the chance to at least try and have a “normal” college experience on campus. The problem is, I don’t know if things will be better in a year, or two years, or five. So will I just “waste” - for lack of a better term - a year hoping we’ll have a vaccine? 

I don’t know what I’ll do for a year. I can’t really work, I can’t really get an internship, I can’t travel. Do I stay at home? Do I get an apartment off-campus? Somewhere else? 

At the same time, I don’t know if I want to be on a campus without my friends and the clubs and experience that I’ve loved. The other part of me wants to be part of history and worries that we just won’t get better for years and I’ll just be stuck stagnant. Another part of me still wants to be unique and a little selfish and take the gap year so I don’t have to be the guinea pig for this weird online hybrid program. 

My mom always said she wished she took a gap year before starting college. Maybe I should take this chance. But I’d miss the few friends that I get to see unless I was living with them. Even if I still do online classes, I don’t want to take them from home, which my parents probably won’t like. I know they’ll support me, but it would still be cheaper to live with them and I don’t know if that’s something I want.

I just don’t know.

#college #college life #student #studyblr #uni #magsgoestocollege #student life #college student #high school #mags gets corona'd

[bakingthedetectives]

'What Now? I'm Going To Have My Cake And Eat It' - Tom Barnaby, Midsomer Murders

'She was very, very fat. She spread outwards and towered upwards. At least a quarter of her height seemed to be accounted for by her hair, which was a rigid pagoda-like structure: a landscape of peaks and waves, whorls and curls ending in a sharp point like an inverted ice cream cone. It was the colour of butterscotch instant whip.'

I'm shocked it's taken me such a long time to read any of the Midsomer Murders books. For a long time I didn't even realise there were books, the show being such an institution that it overshadowed all else. On the back of my copy of The Killings At Badger's Drift it says 'One of the CWA Top 100 Crime Novels of All Time'. I pondered what CWA meant. In Leicester CWA is a 'creative thinking' agency (whatever that could possibly be). College of West Anglia? Apparently it's the Crime Writers' Association. Well...great! If it was me running the show it would be at the very top. I have never been so enamoured with a book before. I had made a note on several pages before the end of the first chapter, which is a very good sign indeed. For me it was a connection. Caroline Graham writes like me. She's far superior, obviously, since she is actually a writer, but I couldn't escape the short sentences. I was always told at school not to use short sentences. Brackets and commas are the enemy and you just need to press on with the sentence, give it both barrels. But that's not who I am, that's not how I speak. I often cut myself short to go on a tangent that can only be illustrated with brackets when writing it down (god knows how people keep up with me when I am actually speaking to them. At least three sentences spring from my original sentence and end up far removed the point). She often starts writing a character's thoughts without telling you, and it's not until you're halfway through that you realise it's all in their mind and not part of their external world at all. It's brilliant! Finding someone that has written like this, who has been successful writing like this, brings me great joy. I have no ambitions to be a writer or to do anything with this newsletter other than to write it for myself (I'm so glad you all read it, I really am, but I do this for me first of all. I must do something and this is it), but finding someone else that makes me believe I am allowed to write as I want to is the best feeling in the world.

'You're a good boy,' she crooned, kissing him full on the mouth. Her breath was very sweet, a soft explosion of violet cachous and cream and rich vanilla. 'Mummysbestboy.' Her fingers slipped into his shirt, caressing the bony wings of his shoulder blades. 'Bestestonlyboy.'

I wanted to create a recipe for Barnaby first of all, since he is the main event, but when I started reading The Killings At Badger's Drift I was pacing around the room with excitement thinking about The Rainbirds. Obviously I had seen them portrayed so brilliantly by Richard Cant and Elizabeth Spriggs and loved them then, but reading Barnaby's first encounter with this repulsive duo really set me going. How ghoulishly fascinating they are. Dennis, a pale foppish undertaker, and Iris, a preened oppressive mass of a person. Barnaby thinks they would fit very well into a Joe Orton play and I can completely see that. As the quote above shows, their relationship as mother and son is not quite the usual. I'd quite like to put them behind glass at a museum and watch them, watch their eyes twinkling with conspiracy. When Barnaby and Troy meet them at their home, Dennis Rainbird wheels out a trolley 'built along the lines of the altarpiece at the Brompton Oratory', piled high with sandwiches and cakes. The sandwiches are cut into playing card shapes, which brings out their characters so well (marmite hearts, potted meat diamonds...). Poor Troy is handed a vanilla slice, which Dennis notes he isn't enjoying very much. 'Press him to a frangipane, then' is Iris Rainbird's response. I just love them hideously. They take so much care over their presentation, and they love every minute of it. I had to make the vanilla slice that Sergeant Troy has so much trouble with. It's slightly fiddly, this one, but I'm sure you'll get the hang of it. I've made it easier by using shop bought puff pastry, but I do feel The Rainbirds will be able to tell the difference! There will be a bit of wastage of the pastry here but I found myself snacking on this while the custard cooled, so I'm sure you'll be alright.

For the pastry: 2x sheets ready rolled all butter puff pastry some icing sugar, about 1-2 tbsp flaked almonds For the custard: 150ml double cream 650ml full fat milk 3 large egg yolks 100g caster sugar 1 tbsp vanilla bean paste 3 tbsp cornflour 3 tbsp custard powder Preheat the over 200C/180 fan/Gas 6. Fully line a 23cm square cake tin with baking parchment. To prepare the pastry, roll one sheet out onto a baking tray lined with parchment paper. Sprinkle the sheet with icing sugar so there's an even coating and sprinkle with flaked almonds. To prevent the pastry from rising too much, cover it with another sheet of parchment and another baking tray. If you have any baking beans or rice pour that into the tray to make sure it's well held down (puff pastry is very stubborn). Bake this in the oven for 25-30 minutes until the layer is dark in colour. Repeat this process with the second sheet of pastry to get your top layer, but leave out the ground almonds for this one. Peel the parchment off the sheets of cooked pastry. When cooled, trim each pastry slice to fit a 23cm square cake tin and place one sheet of pastry into the bottom of the tin. Set this aside while you make the custard. To make the custard, heat the vanilla, cream and milk on low until it comes to a gently boil. Remove it from the heat temporarily while you whisk together the egg yolks, cornflour, custard powder and sugar. Whisk until everything is combined but don't go over the top. We don't need to add any air to it. Pour a small amount of the hot milk onto the egg mixture and whisk continuously to bring it all together, then slowly add more of the milk until everything is mixed together. Put this back onto the heat and stir continuously until the mixture has thickened. It will naturally come to a boil but try to keep the heat fairly low so it doesn't burn the bottom of the pan. If you wish you can pass the custard through a sieve into a clean bowl to remove any lumps. Press some clingfilm onto the top of the custard to prevent a skin forming, then leave it to cool fully. Once the custard is cooled pour it over the pastry base in the tin and smooth over the top. Using a ruler, neatly cut the top layer into even slices. I cut mine to roughly 3.5cm. Unfortunately there isn't a great way of doing it evenly because of the tin sizes here. We've got 20cm, 23cm, 25cm etc so it's never quite even but do your best. Lay these slices on top of the custard and put everything into the fridge to chill for several hours. Chop the custard slices and serve, preferably on a rickety old tea trolley.

#midsomer murders #tom barnaby #joyce barnaby #john barnaby #baking #recipes #vanilla slice #cream slice #custard slice #pastry #patisserie

[the-house-of-the-nine]

The Damned Never Die: Revelation, Part 1

[To those of you who continue to follow us, share our work and help spread the writings of myself and the fine people who work with me; I thank you!  More than you know.  “In Depths Below” has officially ended and I’m happy to start sharing the next book in our series of writings which is titled “The Damned Never Die”.  Please help by linking and sharing this with people who might be interested; we really appreciate it!  And if you’re here to read! Thank you as well, and without an further delay on my part; Please enjoy the first part of this tale! ]

Two Weeks since Lazarius’ return to the Nine. . . .

“ Kun-Lai, I will never forget Kun-Lai.  It was the beginning and the end of everything for me.  It caused me the life of a dear friend, and gave me the death of a hated enemy.  It brought closure, it brought grief, but most importantly it brought questions.

Everything that happened from then until now; and here I sit, stirring within my own mind, poised to take quill to parchment once again.  To fill another ledger with my thoughts and words to add it to my collection.  To give insight to the future generations of the accounts that took place here.  The dozen or so volumes that will be added for the events here will certainly give a sufficient record of what we faced.  I am just pleased to have returned.

Kun-Lai to Zandalar to the Marshes, through Arathi and Hillsbrad. . . to Alterac.  And finally home again. . . I have never wanted to be home more now than I was in that entire ordeal. . . Home. . .I never wanted any of this to happen. . .“

He peered down at the empty page, and slowly the quill began to quiver and shake as his finger motioned toward it.

I never wanted any of this.  Well I write that but is it really the truth? I suppose I should have been a bit more forthcoming in the weeks leading up to everything that had happened.  I was a fool, a careless fool to say the least.  And put stock in myself thinking I could do something without any help as usual.

Marseille warned me. “Don’t you think this is a matter for the council?” but rather than go right to them, I decided to do what I wanted.  Again.

I had every bit of knowledge I needed when I found out that the Magisters led by Dawnseeker were planning their coup.  I didn’t have any idea that he was going to spring into action with the End Game being first.  I was a fool.  He bested me in my own battle.

Here I had hoped to get the upper hand by striking first.  Marseille was going to eliminate them one after another.  We had everything in order and then Kun-Lai happened.

How was I supposed to expect them?  Zoei and I hadn’t seen one another since she went on assignment behind enemy lines.  And here I am writing about her now. 

I never really get a chance any more to just sit and theorize.  I am always filling this ridiculous book with all sorts of nonsense.  Why cant I just have a bit of time to write poetry or draw little sketches.

“You’re doing it again. . .”  he said softly to himself as he began to scribble out the last line in his journal.

Zoei is gone.  Not one week after being back from all of the kodo shit and she is gone.  She had told me, this wasn’t the life she had expected.  That everything we’d gone through was enough to leave her wondering if she actually wanted it anymore.  I think the massacre at the Masquerade was partially responsible.  Perhaps part of me always knew that she was not cut out for this life; any yet in my naivety I pushed her, and forced her into it. I pushed her in deeper into the darkness, and inevitably slipped right out of my hands.

It is a pity.  Despite all that has happened over the years, the last remaining of my apprentices is still Sennaris.  I suppose she will always be my crowning achievement of success.  At least there is that.  A poor girl, lost and alone; trained to become a powerful empath and Compellor of The Nine.  I couldn’t be more proud.

So, yes.  I had to wipe Zoei’s mind.  Took the knowledge of the void, the memories we shared, everything we’d been through.  She’ll never even recognize me if she saw me today.  Just another face in the crowd as she walks past.  And here I am, me. . .forced to endure and remember.  I am always left remembering....

“Always fucking remembering. . .” he hissed as his hand raised the chalice to his right which was filled with a crimson liquid.

His Cindervine Red, his favorite.  His one true comfort in troubling times.  The wrapped fingers that were coiled around the stem of the chalice were a mixture of void energy and a woven nylon material the parasite managed to synthesize. 

His hands were completely obliterated when he and Jursol had to destroy the metallic shackles Dawnseekers hunters encased them in.  His flesh and bone were missing on most of his fingers, and the parts of him that did survive the ordeal was blackened and charred and would be forever damaged.

If it hadn’t been for the entity within his genetics; there would have been no happy ending for his upper appendages.  Amputation would have been the only plausible answer.  The only saving grace was that it had stopped the infection immediately, and worked to preserve whatever tissue it could. 

Because the host was damaged, it would allow him the use of a wire like framework of nerve endings that it had created in replacement for his missing fingers.  The spiderweb of nerves were purple and string like; almost like a wire frame from a sculpture.  After creating the illusion of fingers and parts of his missing hand, the bindings of void energy and nylon would be wrapped around the frame like a mummified corpse; thus appearing to be whole.

CLACK - CLACK

It was the only way he could retain the use of digits and feeling.  But sadly; he would have to live like this for the rest of his existence.  A deformed and hideous version of his former self.

“Back to the point. . .”  his voice softly murmured as he tried to refocus himself on the open ledger.  The strange sound heard as he was pausing, that odd sound which was bugging him lately.  Where was it coming from?

My time away from the order gave me a period in which to think about what exactly was going on.  What we were really striving for.  How we were structured.  And ultimately what the future was going to hold for all of us. 

It is a careful thought.  Curious even, now nearly ten years passing since everything had been completely changed and restructured.  The loss of not only Raelyinda, but Mo’rynth.  Then Zalinath returning and destroying us.  The rebirth and and rebuild; everything since those early days.  Days when it was just myself, my sister and Poeta. 

Now, we’re a city.  A populace of like mined individuals striving to survive and flourish in a future that seems almost inevitable.  N’Zoth is rising from the sea, and with it will usher in the return of the Black Empire.  The turning point for Azeroth will be if the planet lives.  Because even then, the true masters of the void will surely be invited to set their eyes on this little ball of earth and water.

While on Zandalar, getting to know Jursol, and trying to figure out where this leaves us as a collective; something dawned on me.  We have survived.  Not because of our blind faith in depths below, or because of our masters will.  It was because we as a collective are strong.  We are our own strength and we give ourselves the power to change our future.  And change we have.  We’ve broken away from the ties that bind us, choosing to keep what we want, and banish the chains that hold us back.

And that is my revelation.  That is my discovery.  We are the Nine and we control our future.  The entire council and collective order we have formed here, our home, our prosperity.  We’ve achieved a great and many things, and will continue to push forward.

It was galvanized in my mind the very moment I returned.  When I had seen what the people here are capable of even without my wisdom and guidance.  The loss of one; stirs the wrath of many.  Like shaking a hornets nest.  And it would be no different for any other who may have been lost to our cause.  They achieved something that was neigh impossible; by combining their prowess and working toward the future that they controlled.  And in the end, they have only fueled my vitality toward achieving more to its maximum.

There came a soft, yet stern knocking on the massive stained door of the Inquisitors chamber.  He knew exactly who it belonged to before he even spoke.

“Ser...” came the grizzled voice of the withered old Gilnean.

Lazarius peered up from his inscribing quill and glanced toward the veteran with his venomous black pools.

“Kross. . .”  he responded, resting his elbow against the surface of the large writing desk.

“My apologies for disturbing your diligent work...”  replied the specter.

“Never a reason to apologize, old friend.  I always welcome your presence you know that. . .what is it?”  there was not a hint of doubt coming from his voice at this point.  Kross was always welcome.

“You requested a progress update earlier this morning.  Doctor Whistletorque had asked to speak to you about the forge.  Also a missive arrived earlier this week from the Baron; Krazzlowe,  something Koltun and Pyravari have already begun tending to.  Madam Jursol has also asked about where the limitations are for her raptors to roam, and if it will be disturbing to the students to allow them to wander freely.  There was also a. . .”

Lazarius raised his hand toward the white eyed steward.  He smiled and nodded slowly as if he already knew all that he was trying to tell him.

“Kross. . . you are suddenly acting as though this place would fall apart without me.” 

“Yet you are aware of the redundancy of that statement, considering it is the literal result if you were lost.”  the old bearded man would say as he moved in closer to the table.

Lazarius chuckled softly and continued to nod as his body leaned back and pressed against the spine of the chair.

“Well aware. . . “ 

Kross stood beside the fairly clean table top, noticing nothing was out of place; there were no scattered piles of books and ledgers.  The drafting table was completely empty.  It roused his suspicions but he remained silent.  Usually his charge was avidly scheming.  Always toiling a project or plot; a result of the parasite again no doubt causing his brain to toil and turn with every waking moment.

“Kross. . .have you given thought to what our life would be like if we were not bound to this place?”  the disturbing question from the Inquisitor bellowed as his eyes closed and he listened to the silence of the room.

“You are wondering if I’ve given thought to my eternal slumber, or...?” he paused.   The steward reached his gloved fingers outward and curled them around the length of the bottle neck containing Lazarius’ wine.

“No no, I mean... this life.  I don’t know perhaps it is foolish. . .” he responded calmly sighing.

“I have known you for nearly three centuries Ser, hardly anything you suggest is either faulty or foolish.”  Kross responded without hesitation as he bent at the elbow and began to refresh the chalice with the burgundy liquor.

“Hardly?”  he mused softly as he heard the choice of word.

Kross only smiled lightly, enough to track back again as his master continued on.

“The old ones give; and they take away.  But we are not meant to be the true servants are we?” he asked listening to that familiar gulping of the wine as it poured from the bottle.

“You are beginning to wonder your place in the world?”

“No I understand our place, I am questioning our position in it.  I know our place will always be here.  Doing as we always have.  Defending our freedom from persecution for practicing what we do.  Protecting our sacred ways our sacred brothers and sisters. . .  I will never forsake that which has shaped me, but I. . .”  Lazarius stuttered again in his words as his head shook and he peered up with the contrasting black eyes to meet the white of his friend.

“You are beginning to see then. . .”  Kross said peering back as he finished refilling the glass.

“See?”  the elf asked curiously, his brow lofting in natural response.

“There is more to what we have here than simply chaos, and wanton lusts for madness.  True we are creatures of the nefarious.  Primed to always be thrust against the natural order of what is righteous and what is good.  But that does not define us.  We do as we must to ensure ours do not die off, whatever it takes. . ..” 

Lazarius continued to listen to the sagely council of his old friend.  Choosing to remain silent after he paused and placed the bottle down, allowing the Steward to continue.

“When the servant is no longer needed, the Master will cast him aside.  The years of dedicated service and dutiful care taking will never be forgotten, but rarely do those who serve the source of a greater power reach the pinnacle of their Masters success.  It is not often the servant stand atop the mountain beside the glory. . .”

The black eyes of the Inquisitor tore suddenly away.  He was not certain but he wondered if that was how he was seen.  A ruling tyrant, a man who had placed himself above the values of the greater collective.

“And yet here you stand, continuing to serve.”  he murmured softly into the room.

“And here I stand, continuing to serve, because you are not that, Ser.”  Kross placed his hand upon the robed shoulder of his own Master. “You are nothing like that.”

“...no something. . .far, far worse.. ”  he snorted into a chortle as he shook his head.  The wrapped fingers of his left hand raising upward and placing upon the gloved edges of the old mans.

“Ser, the day you become a wretched tyrant who places the ones he cares for in danger; choosing to protect yourself over they, is the day you find my resignation letter impaled in the phylactery holding my remains.”  Kross stated softly.

Lazarius peered back up at the older man and smiled.  He was a father figure, and always had been.  But more importantly he was an honest friend, a governing influence and a moral compass to the sometimes verbose and outlandish mind of his own making.

“Still. . . To some I already am. . .you know that yes?”  Lazarius said softly.

“Those who have wandered away have lost their nerve.  Either by their own lack of dedication or fears that have left them unsure.  Some have given up, and others have simply lost their desire.  But you have never once put their lives in any danger without putting your own in first.”  The old Gilnean said in a gruff voice that allowed for some compassion to linger.

Lazarius only nodded.  There were few who came and wandered off, and some who had just all together abandoned them.  Some who had sought to manipulate and take; but never give.

“In fact some may say you are the reason for their success.  You’ve given away more than you have taken.  Especially when it comes to their well being, and safety.” 

Kross add softly as his own hand pulled away once Lazarius had released him.  He continued.

“A home like The Bastille after losing the estate and all we had built there.  Not many would have been so fortunate in the case of having the foresight to move, but also successfully avoid the unnecessary deaths of hundreds.  Save for those sixty seven.”

Lazarius indeed knew that the old man was trying to lessen the weight of his mind, but something still burned in the very back.

“While I was away from you all, it had given me time to think.  Time to consider.  With everything that has happened between now and the beginning of this war; we have been stuck in a position I would say is. . .fair at best.” 

Kross listened as he began to tidy the small scraps of paper and items around the massive desk.

“I thought of possibly reaching out to a few connections we still had. . .aid us in getting back on our feet until we could financially support ourselves again.”  he continued as his head shook back and forth.

“With so much lost from Quel’thalas, until you finally decide to reinstate Miss Kash’ebahl as the benefactor and head of the families affairs it makes things difficult there.”  Kross added as he made his way toward the small waste basket.

“And doing so now would not be advantageous.  I can’t exactly march back in and begin asking for hand outs.  Though the thought has crossed my mind.”  Lazarius concluded as he flattened his palm on the surface of the table.

“There has been no change in the escalating war either.  Currently it seems the Horde is balanced on its inevitable collapse as we face another catastrophic dictators iron Horde. . . though the Banshee seems determined to retain her throne of hide and bone.”

Kross would slowly pace back toward his Master.  His white eyes studying the stress that built as he thought.  Lazarius continued on.

“The bakery is enough to launder money, we are floating well above our means at the moment; all things considered.  But if we cannot continue to filter the money from the Io-Cerebellum into Stormwind and Quel’thalas respectively, we could hit a financial brick wall.”

The black eyed Inquisitor curled his wrapped ethereal fingers around the stem of the chalice and sipped from it.

“Of course.” replied the steward.

“There are supplies to keep moving, food and stores to replenish.  People here expect a certain amount of sustainability.  A certain respective comfort.  It would be unfit for me to simply strip that away because we’re strapped in our pockets.”  the truth of the matter is he would begin selling off his own personal items before letting those around him suffer.

Kross was simply an observer at this point; a means of bouncing ideas from his lord to a bent ear.  A way to perhaps move the ball forward, the wheels turning, suggestive thought just by working it out through his mind and into the air.

“I should have withdrawn that funding the moment this war began to fester.  The moment they burned that tree, I . . .”

“You can not blame yourself for not having the hindsight to predict the retaliation.  Nobody could have predicted the Alliance storming the beaches of Tirisfal.  But you had enough sense to get our greatest asset safely away.”

Kross stood before him and firmly placed a hand on the table, he didn’t stop there.

“You spared hundreds by having the knowledge to act rather than wait.  You could have continued your dealings and practicing what you wished.  Continued to manipulate the courts and magistrate.  But you did not.  You abandoned your own selfish requirements and put the people who depend on your first.  That is what a true leader does, Ser.”

Lazarius peered toward the Steward and suddenly blurted out.

“W-what did you say. . .”

Kross looked stunned.  Lazarius never took his words into account as if they were meant to sting or wound.

“Ser, I did not mean to offend. . .I was j-”

“No no, Kross about the courts. . . The Horde. . . We don’t need to generate money...”  he said trailing off and getting a distant look in his eyes.

Kross looked confused as Lazarius began ripping through his entire desk trying to find the correct ledger.  Somewhere in there he would be hunting.  And the old Gilnean would watch with a great interest as he attacked the drawers like a madman. 

“Here we have been looking for a way to produce capital to continue moving forward.  We are constantly moving forward, and yet all we need to do is look back at the past. . .where in reality we have been sitting on top of a goldmine this entire time.”

He suddenly ripped a large enchanted ledger from the lower drawer.  His hand placed flat against the surface and it opened in a bright flash of purple light.  Moments later, page after page, he would flip to somewhere in the middle and point directly at the amount.  It was unfathomable to say the least.

“Ser?”

Lazarius grinned and tapped the page again before peering up at Kross.

To be Continued in. . . “The Damned Never Die: Revelation, Part 2″

[bountifulwitcharchive]

I thought I would talk about stuff in my life  a bit, especially considering I keep getting rattled by anxieties and taken a back by feeling as if I am hurting or harming someone.

As an adult I take it as my responsibility to make sure my actions are concise, I feel this is how any adult should ultimately be. Whether or not who I am as surefire as I am, hurts someone by accident. Whether it is that my opinion makes someone upset ; I want them to know I am not changing who I am yes. But that I do still care about them. If  I fail to do this, then i feel as a person I have failed. Whether this is because of trauma in the past, or stuff that people from online communities made me feel. It does not matter, ultimately this is where I am at in my life.

My in real life is hard.  I dont talk about it because I have, and the end result is always the same. This contorted feeling from others who dont know how to answer and feel uncomfortable themeslves. Knowing they cannot do anything, and my own discomfort that they cannot relate. Cannot understand. Cannot know what it means like -- I often hear ‘ Is it better today? ‘ Rather then, ‘ Are things stable today? ‘ I hate that people often feel my household is a place where things can be healed or feel better, that is not the case. My household works on whether things are stabled and held together vs Anyone having gotten BETTER. The job I am getting into now deals with this , and a reason why I applied for it was because I understand. I understand so much what this means and how people who do not have members of family who are disabled like this, dont understand. Every day is a struggle. It is a challenge, but it is so normal what I understand and come home to. However, simply because I am use to it and accept it does not make the stress of it any less then how heavy it is in my heart. Because ontop of my sister being disabled and us lucky that she is communicative. My mothers health is getting worse; in terms of worse she is getting old. And her poor choice of eating. Her inability to take care of herself and having to take care of another adult for themself--mind you for the rest of their lives. Takes a toll on her. And then my brother is getting worse, hes a smart boy where doctors are realizing he too is disabled. However, imagine being told you are disabled at 13 but consciously aware of what that means ( my sister ) and afraid of what you will become. Without going into details; if anyone in this household would kill themsleves it would be him. So ontop of hiding knives from my sister. We have to hide anything ( the surplus AND VARIETY of medicines my sister is on ) away from him. While also avoiding serious conversations of our home structure struggling as to not spike his anxieties. He will self harm like crazy. And its hard watching your little brother slam his head against the wall because he is overwhelmed by the world he was born into. I have many siblings, but my sister steph who is the only other person who lives with us does nothing for herself. I am sure she has issues her self but does not speak of it. And instead sits at home. Falling more and more into imo a depression that my mother just calls and berates her for being lazy for. I keep trying to push her to branch out but I can tell how this life effects her individually and that there is something there she doesnt wanna talk about. And I cannot reach in there to help. For my other side of the family,  Where my stepmother who i discovered the other day doesnt realize or remember or care to understand that the reason i fell into depression at 18 was because of what she did . And now I have to compress my memories and ask myself if my abuse was real -- or is this another one of those ‘ Manipulators conviently forgetting to forget the abuse they did in the past to cling onto the future they have now. ‘ By all means fine, she is a mother and needs to focus on that, but for me. Who endures. And endures. Staring at someone who did nothing but break me into who I am today, and hear that she forgot. Or doesnt understand. Or doesnt know. Like to her the past was nothing, did hurt. But forgive we do because what else will you do in points in time --- people online think your own feelings are so valid that you need ruin the world around you to make it worse. But no. Sometimes. You need to accept things for what they are, and think that me in a situation where I cannot change things. Or amend if the issue is brought to light -- to focus on what I can. For my sisters. So I can see them. And for myself. So maybe one day in the future, that conversation can come to light. But for now, we deal with what life gives us and we move on.

That is why that job was too much for me? Nothing had order .everything was a mess. Nothing was put together well and often people blammed the lowly coworkers for the faults in the system if it meant they did not have to get introuble. Then we look as if we do not know what we are doing and exhaustion has hold of it. The system in place reminded me too much of abusive circumstances. I did not have a voice. My back was always in pain. My feet was always aching -- none of this mattered to them and none of anyones complaints ever reached them. They valued their own problems over everyone elses around them, and I understand everyone is dealing with so much but seeing management value their own complaints over others was horrible. Considering  Iwent into this with such a promise. With so much of who I was feeling like the brightest light about to conquer something new--the last of my hope in life. Thinking I was gunna change my life .Change my world. Offer my family something better. Something knew. Only to find out the truth of that all; that the Manager coaxed the employees there who I was . Was to be horrible. To tell her what all the coworkers were doing. So she could write them all up and -- so with that purpose and picture in mind to them. They rallied together to put me on probation and everything that I was broken to tears, realizing that--trying hard to tell myself I mattered more then what people made me out to be. Because when I salvaged my self to befriend them all -- to at least face them and figure out why they did that to me. That this was my job life for a year and a half. Lmao? And did that I did, and learned so much about what went on I had... And overwhelmed by this picture of how they lived and treated each other. I wanted to leave. And left I did, but into a situation that was just far worse.  Never in all the years of retail I have worked have I ever endured such hell like I had with these customers. And some of it I dont blame them, the store really made them feel this way especially when nothing was right. Nothing as good. And nothing worked. Regardless the complaints I had of this I was stressed and nothing  I did and nothing I got from this job gave back to me. None of it but stress and being exhuasted and finding myself stripped of who I am. ANd I tried with my quiet feelings about myself, to say things. I would say “ No I am miserable. “ And say it so flatly and awkwardly to make a point, but everyone always made a joke about it despite how flat I would remain. And then compare, “Well at least you arent management.” Nothing I said got through to them, and I tried. I promise. I tried with attempts despite how hard it is for someone like me to open up.

So yes I left and the job I have now is not something that is easy, Nor do I expect that my stress to be any less. Rather that it pays more and I am with endurance to try something new that might offer me better future opportunities and worse comes to worse -- I find a new job.

Even as this all went on I made sure my life here was as easy for me to come to as it was. Imagine. Imagine.

Just imagine.

If I was truly enduring all of this . What about everyone else? I looked at everyone like this, I looked at what I went through day by day and thought -- What if they have it worse. If I have no heart and mind to talk about what really goes on in length in my irl day by day... What if someone else is just the same? It is not for me to ask. it is not for them to say.

I geniuely wanted to be at peace with everyone online, and if something went on that was so bad by their action. I truly believed; well you cant be as bad as my Step Mother or physically bad as my sister who I deal with day by day.  That is to say, I have no interest in detailing my past. 

Im pretty sure its obvious my past does paint my anxieties and issues with how I deal with things. Approach people day by day.

And its important for you to know that, to know that I am like you or anyone else. My desire to be positive and happy is to allow for you and everyone else to feel and be surrounded by positivity in life. 

Life is really hard. 

Hell, right now I am still going through more impersonal feelings while trying to dance my around all this going on. Because even as im nearing 27 -- almost 30 years old. I still realize things about myself, and it will hit me hard. The most recent and most eye opening realization that still rattles me and probably is the reason why. I feel flippant in my anxiety ; is realizing I gave 5 years to my life to someone who did not exist. This person went by the name Logan and roleplayed Snow from FF13.  I realized ; I spent 5 years of my life giving myself to this person. This person who did not exist and catfished everyone around me. Including me. Making people believe I was obsessed with him. Making people believe that he didnt treat me as if the private things shared between us were most intimate. That I spent 5 years waiting for him. Giving myself to him. Being patient for him. Enduring anything he said and taking my feelings so that I revitalized the things I did. Said. And would approach and appreciate him more understandingly. So he didnt hurt me, or ignore me--that he took so much from me. Money. Drawings. My writing. So much of my attention and love. He took 5 years away from me that I could have given someone I actually was so in love with and still am. That acted mildly the same -- but actually had stuff going on-- I am and was so in love with that person. And All I could give him was consciously a year until everything that I felt with Logan came crashing down in remembrance. That I didnt even realize why I was really overwhelmed by it all until some how talking to a close friend of mine about everything really. Really hit me hard.

5 years.

I think.

5 years was stolen of me. 5 years of love. 5 years of who i was. 5 years of dedication. Of loyalty. Of patience. Of endurance.

I could have been a different and confident person who really believed in love and not riddled with anxieties that made me remember everything I put effort into didnt matter -- because this one person would make sure of reminding me what my actions would fall under.

Life is really hard,     and day by day I still learn things about myself.

And I just think, if you are still reading this. That you too are going through this. And that someone you know is going through this. And that we are all going through so much of this or more. And I just hope you are alright and that you are hanging on there because I want you to know that I am trying to. Very hard. To live and I dont want you to give up either so please hang in there with me. 

That is why when the group of people who often harass my community when they do not like someone.

Yes the same group every time.

Had finally had me in their sights its was overwhelming, I had thought wow -- this is what you ultimately came to understand from me? When I had tried hard to reach out to you. To be your friend. To consciously find a place where we can be together as people comfortable -- but no thats not the point I want to make.

It rattled me that it took people who knew nothing about me, to change the course of my environment just like that. I lost the hand full of people from that community I talked too . A friend I had been friends with since I was 17 . Simply because they were scared of being caught in that fire too. It was less about who I was, and more about them losing the safe haven they had. The fun group and comfort they had-- they did not want to lose that.

And I understand that. Im not mad at that, just concerned. Sad. And reeling in the fact that people can ultimately take things from each other with misplaced context. And the unfortunate circumstance that people will opt for this, instead of talking to one another.

So I am tired yes.

Because that happened, that whole thing happened while I as dealing with so much. And I had no answer for it. And that me talking about this is to tell you how effected I am by my life right now. And that it indeed upsurged my anxieties more uncomfortably so and not that that is bad or good. It merely is what it is.

And that as I am now, I am sorry. I am sorry and grievanced because I went backwards and am not as timely with things as I use to. I have been struggling to sleep, and when I wake up feel a sort of touched exhaustion that makes me feel like not getting out of bed. 

I am sorry since I cannot roleplay things most often for others that I would love to explore. That my interests as of late have been : what would make me laugh to roleplay. What would make me feel wholesome to roleplay. What can i say to talk to others? What can I do to connect with others?

My mind and interests as of late is more about; making myself feel better and coping through what means I can through roleplay or just talking rather then. Having fun with my hobby like I had been the past few months.

This is why alike on Gawain, my compliant is coming online and constantly seeing him hash’d negatively. In truth I deal with negative things on a day to day basis... I did not want to have it follow me online. If I post about it, then clearly I have left myself open for those things.. But often I dont and am trying to mind my business and roleplay leisurely when things erupt.

I am really sorry, because ultimately, I failed as a friend and as a fellow roleplayer. My talking about it is to correlate the truth but also to let people know how I am as a person. Even still.

I feel sometimes people think you know, ‘ Oh hey Sheep just excuses things. ‘ Rather its just Im a different kind of person from a harsh road of life and I see things a lot differently.

For this I will explain with a more literal example, 

Things that many people feel uncomfortable online. I myself cannot-- it is that merely I cannot. If someone is talking about something regarding their character that they were abused sexually and want to explore the meaning of this through roleplay. I do not find this insulting, I find myself glad. If people can find out what it means to have been sexually assaulted, maybe they can also connect with me too? And understand why its hard for me to expose my body ( or how overly okay I am to do so ) or how feeling /sexy/ can be a hard feeling for me to overcome.  I often see people mistaking things or not handling it correctly, but I want it to be done rather then ignored. Or treated like it doesnt happen. For an adult, this is how I separate my reality from fiction. But find a connection from my reality into something fictious. Further, as an adult I want to help people understand that difference.  It is very bad to feel gratified and pleased by subjects that are distasteful. But seeing it treated as if it cannot be spoken of discomforts me. This is a public place, but it is also a place where you control the content on your blog. By the end of the day, I will pick the things that will make me feel uncomfortable or wont make me uncomfortable.

With such a short example, I dont know if anyone read this far. I had hoped. And hope. These feelings can help others or really understand where I am with my life right now and how stressed out I really am. I cannot talk individually with people because I actually choke up. I have ADHD and often forget if I dont take it slow. And can get overstimulated by the fact that someone is merely listening/paying attention to me. I am quiet about myself because I dont like wide attention. 

But that.

The past weeks I have had such support in my life.

And I am trying not to cry thinking about it, but I have such a healthy circle of friends and I would do anything to see it through that it lasts for years to come. Me speaking like this is because of this. Because of the comfort. Because of my desire to reach out and branch out comfortably. To remind ppl of my life, and to apologize for where I am not most prominent and may suck at show casing things for. 

I probably will make a more positive post in the future about how everyone has helped me through so much -- like I am just a cup that is spilling about and everyone is trying hard to keep whatever is coming out from falling on the floor--s uch a silly analogy but really.

I am so thankful as much as I am apologetic.

Thank you guys for giving me a home where I most need it. It is why I want to be open and communicative. I want the place I come home to, that I enjoy and need to cope through things going on. To remain okay, to be alright, and that positive energy can still be shared.

And that I want to with all my heart, continue giving that positive energy to anyone around me the best that I can. With you understanding me as a person.

Thank you, if you have read this far. For taking the time to get to know me.

#.´ · ⋆ ❛ ᵗᵃᵏᵉˢ ᵃ ᶫᵒᶰᵍ ᵈʳᶦᶰᵏ ᵃᶰᵈ ᶜʳʸˢ ⥃ 🇴🇴🇨 ｡ #tag: vent #I hope that ultimately people #see what I say -- and understand . #But also #that my feelings can be used as a platform in one way or another. #And that people know you are not alone and that I am also going through so much.

[ohleander]

2.9

It has been an emotionally draining few days and I'm left feeling desperately tired. My mind cant help but retrace all the words and steps of the day. Sometimes I just don't know what to do with myself when it comes to others.

I can hardly put into words how I'm feeling but I still want to write. I still want to unclog all the feelings and let them wash down the drain. I felt like I've lost myself a little lately and somehow it doesn't feel all bad. Its been incredibly hard and emotional but the future still doesn't give me a bad feeling. I guess that means I'm on the right track. I have to keep telling myself "Right Place, Right Time"

Its wild to me that I can keep receiving nothing but good words and positive feedback about a situation and then get blind sighted by things I either didn't notice or things that others should've said.

I struggle with the line of needing to notice everything and letting others come to me first.

After pausing a moment, I'm processing a little easier. I'm not stuck thinking dialogue over and over. I always question whether I am doing the right thing and if I'm good for other people. I think I have a huge fear of being toxic to others. The very last thing I want to do is manipulate anyone into my zone. That's just bad energy. And I struggle with it so much because manipulation is one of my autistic traits to manage socially. I feel like people pleasing must be some kind of manipulation. I'd love to read more about it.

I always have a terrible lurking feeling/fear that as soon as I enjoy any kind of pleasure, I have somehow missed something important and things will come falling down. It happens in a way that I can count and notice. But it could also be a pattern I am noticing.

I people please so much so as to avoid any kind of negative feedback.

I suppose I cannot make any team get along but what I can do is foster a common goal. I have to be firm with my wording, and I have to be deliberate. As much as I don't want to be in charge of such a huge wheel, that's the position I am in and I take that responsibility seriously.

It tires me out and so much lately I just want to quit and run off to do art but I don't have the baby steps to bridge that gap. And I severely want it right now. I feel desperate for change and I also fear it tremendously.

Always learning to be okay. Always learning to do better. Always growing.

Things for me are hard to describe all at once but I can explain them along the way. That's what works best for me.

I want to put in the work. Because putting in the work gets you good things.

You ask for new things, then they're going to look unfamiliar to you at first. They're going to look strange and foreign like you

I wonder if I care more about what people think of me personally or If I mostly just care about if they're seeing the right image I'm projecting.

You're not perfect You're still just a human. You feel like a huge celestial being on the inside but you still wear a human body.

I still feel like there's more I want to write and say. I'm going to try to get back onto my routine tomorrow. I know I have been lacking real structure in my life lately. The wheel's been a bit wobbly for the past week. A lot in your head and a lot in your heart. And its still going to be okay, Its just a lot. And you can do it.

Other people don't make sense to me. Somehow I cant relate to them but I try so hard to. If I could live my life in any way at all, I'd just choose to be kid-me living on a huge farm with nothing but fun and loved ones around. I'd love to buy a huge plot of land, acres of peaceful woods and have a home and a farm there. I'd love to make art and make soap and grow things and cook things and host parties. I don't think what I want is unreasonable or unrealistic. I think what I want is simple, and that's just to have a good time.

Maybe I, maybe we all have been just so swollen with all this forward moving energy that we're tender.. that we cant keep on like it was. I hope the past couple of days have just shaken loose what needed to be let go. I've tried to learn some things too but most of all I need to tell myself "you're okay".

you're okay, you're okay, you're okay.

You also need guidance. I need the structure of an authoritative figure still to help me feel secure. I often wish I didn't.. I wish I could stand on my own all alone but humans aren't meant for that. When I'm energy again, I'll be in my own flow but when I'm here mingling with other humans, I realize I do need the help. I cant do it all on my own and I have to be vulnerable.. I will probably look back at today's shenanigans and go "what was i thinking" and hopefully I'll be laughing. Hopefully I have grown and will keep growing. Even some of the worst things I've been through, I think back on with a weird fondness. Because I know its taken every ingredient to make me who I am today.

Even when things are going well, you are always winging it and you're winging it while in the flow. You're going to be okay. You do your best as you understand it and that's enough.

LM