#reflectin | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yelyahnaloj · 1 month

Text

¨Philip K. Dick - Schizophrenia and the Book of Changes (Essay)¨ (my own commentary in relation to it)

What has happened will repeat itself again and again, wherever the kid runs head on into the koinos kosmos. And these are the years (fifteen years old to twenty-two) when he can no longer keep from running into it on almost every occasion. (Phone the dentist, Charley, and make an appointment to get that cavity patched, etc.) The idios kosmos is leaking away; he is gradually being thrust out of the postwomb womb. Biological aging is taking place, and he can't hold it back. His efforts to do so, if they continue, will later be called "an attempt to retreat from adult responsibility and reality," and if he is later diagnosed as schizophrenic, it will be said that he has "escaped from the real world into a phantasy one." This, while almost true, is just not quite correct. Because reality has an attribute that, if you'll ponder on't, you'll realize is the attribute that causes us to so designate it as reality: It can't be escaped. As a matter of fact, during his preschizophrenic life, during the schizoid-affective period, he has been somewhat doing this; he is now no longer able to. The deadly appearance, around nineteen, of schizophrenia, is not a retreat from reality, but on the contrary: the breaking out of reality all around him; its presence, not its absence from his vicinity. The lifelong fight to avoid it has ended in failure; he is engulfed in it. Gak!

Kinda interesting, reminds me of the ages of about 18 to 21. Even though in the scheme of adulthood so far (almost a decade), it is a short span of time, I still feel it looming over me like a shadow. No matter where I go, it is giving me a gentle reminder of existence like I was transported back in time.

What distinguishes schizophrenic existence from that which the rest of us like to imagine we enjoy is the element of time. The schizophrenic is having it all now, whether he wants it or not; the whole can of film has descended on him, whereas we watch it progress frame by frame.

I was 17 and in my living room, I was describing to my mom how my ¨psychic vision¨ worked. I told her to imagine walking across a room. You see where you are, and you see the destination. I imagined repeatedly in my mind´s eye a plane heading toward our house, so I used the example of seeing a plane before it was going to hit. A roar of a plane soared overhead as I finished my sentence. Later, I pondered if "Seeing the future" was really all that mystical, or were you just more in tune with internal signals of unconscious processes, as what we consciously perceive is not even close to what our mind and eyes are actually taking in.

Schizophrenics don't write and mail letters, don't go anywhere, don't make phone calls: They are written to by angry creditors and authority figures such as the San Francisco Police Department; they are phoned up by hostile relatives; every so often they are forcibly hauled off to the barber shop or dentist or funny farm. If, by some miracle, they hoist themselves into an active state, call HI 4-1234 and ask for a cab so they can visit their good friend the pope, a garbage truck will run into the taxi, and if, after getting out of the hospital (vide Horace Gold's experience a few years ago), another taxi is called and they try one more time, another garbage truck will appear and ram them again. They know this. They've had it happen. Synchronicity has been going on all the time; it's only news to us that such coincedences can happen.

It is easy to slip into a state of passivity. Like a frog waiting for an insect to hop by

My dad would take me to the dentist, or run other errands. I followed along. Making a choice for myself felt like a momentous occasion (if I take a walk today, I could lose track of time, get lost, my phone would run out of juice, and I will have to bug a random stranger to use their phone. That´s what happened last time.) The thought of being an independent adult was unthinkable, because I had never done it and I didn´t see why I couldn´t keep going on living like I already was forever. I was opportunistic, if I saw an orange on the ground while I was taking a walk, it was a sign that I should eat it. When I reached adulthood, I didn´t think about the process of what it took to be an adult. I saw signs for adult foster care or walked past inpatient housing and thought ¨that´s me¨. What it was is what it will be.

By being a precog, Jones ultimately lost the power to act entirely; instead of being freed by his talent, he was paralyzed by it. You catchum?

I feel like I have to have mental blinders on, like a horse, to move forward in life. I can´t think about what´s going to happen next, how this or that choice is going to mess up the timeline. It is so tempting to think that the rules are already set, like they already happened, and making the wrong choice will make you at odds with reality. When you are at odds with reality there is friction and the wrong things happen, but when you are in the right with reality, things happen that you don´t even think would happen. Just today, I went to the food bank. One of my bags was ripping as I walked out, and I walked back in and grabbed a larger black garbage bag. It seemed excessive to use when I was carrying grocery bags, and I don´t know why I grabbed a garbage bag than another grocery bag. But I did and I went back home and took out the trash. I reached into the trash bag box to grab another trash bag and it was empty. Disappointed, I grabbed a grocery bag to put on the pantry handle instead, I looked behind me and there was a garbage bag from the food bank! I had to tie up a few holes, but I was like ¨see! This is why I grabbed the garbage bag!¨

#it´s a different system of thinking for sure #idios kosmos #sometimes relating things helps me process and remember it #I am not saying I am schizophrenic #however I do have a family member who was evaluated for it so maybe our family has traits similar if not exact #I feel like going into adulthood wasn´t just learning new skills it was giving up an entire thought process and way of being #which i get could be the experience of most people to some degree #but when you are raised in an alternative lifestyle the culture shock is more pronounced #and it is culture shock american time management is not universal #I am american but even so it doesn´t take too much to depart from it #it just makes things a lot more convoluted at times #not even really saying right now that i am ¨psychic¨ that was just the thought process or lens that was used at the time and I am reflectin #that in my writing #I think I did basically go catatonic for a bit. new research is now recognizing this it isn´t always a schizophrenia specific thing #it could also be seen in severe depression or autism etc.

0 notes

simiansmoke · 10 months

Text

He's a bit tired, but that plus the few drinks he's had doesn't stop him from vibing out on the bar's balcony. No one's out tonight because of the drizzle, but that doesn't stop him from lighting up and blowing smoke out into the dark towards the harsher sound of the waterfall in the distance.

Licking the smoke flavor out of his teeth, he considered the distance from him to the river and its roar, and just how much the current rain fall would cause it to swell the banks.

Humming, he made sure he was still alone before musing to himself with gravelly rendition. "-when the storms don't seem to end... I'll be there to pull you in." Taking another drag, he puffs the smoke out and watches it get shredded through with the rain bullets. "When you're reaching out...I'll never let you drown-"

#//random open #//havin' a good ol smoke in the rain cuz it's a vibe #//reflectin on the shit #aesthetic;//blue flame #tw drugs

1 note · View note

shatteredfears-arch · 1 year

Text

was awake all night bc *sick and still gotta go to work esp bc from my understanding the sick day policies have changed in cali and i havent read them yet

#also bc last year i had the vid and couldnt work for the first two weeks of the month #my hours… are reflectin that quite a bit and this bish dont like that i have bears to build man #gas is gonna go down i can FINALLY deive to all the bears #out.#i may upchuck again cries #im closing w my russian work gma tho so yay that bit at least #my lungs also hurt but thats not from the sinus infection lol #thats from… my maybe accidentwlly inhaling my stomach acid #im also trying to figure this shit out bc i got a letter from social security saying i needed to fix my w2s to get insurance #but then i got another letter from insurance saying i was accepted #sO WHAT IS THE TRUTH #IS IT RLY SS OR IS IT A FAKE #I AM A DUMBASS AND DONT KNOW THIS SHIT PPL #turning 26th also known as the worst if ur american #other countries dont gotta deal w this shit but we live in this hellhole #nnmmmmm i maya upchuck again #fuck my sinuses but im out of insurance until i get the medicare cars ig #tbd

0 notes

viintxgephrxg · 1 year

Text

— rodan.

pairing: simon ‘ghost’ riley/younger!reader [gn]

genre: platonic

fandom: call of duty: modern warfare 2

summary: rodan and ghost have been partners for as long as the younger could remember, after a tragic accident that resulted in the loss of their entire team they decided to stick with the masked man permanently…. surprisingly, he wasn’t opposed to that

c/w: blood and death, depictions of violence and gore, war/militant violence, gender neutral terms and pronouns (they/them), gender unspecified

a/n: there’s gonna be several different parts because the campaign is long as all fucking hell 😭 but i want to write out the entire thing w reader insert so.. hope you enjoy this little snippet!

—

the sun was scorching. blistering as it burned, it’s rays hot and stifling across the torrid desert plains of al mazrah, united republic of adal.

and even more stifling and oppressively warm against the back of one [y/name] [l/name]. callsign; rodan. an expert in pyrotechnics and demolitions, a ‘one hell of a shot’ sniper, and a pretty thoroughly trained medic. the callsign was their idea actually, being an avid godzilla fan growing up and having watched the entire series beginning to end at least a dozen times.

their commanding officer at the time of choosing it agreed wholeheartedly. though, his was less based on fantasy movies and more so based on [y/name]’s strange fascination with anything that is fire and demolitions. even stranger was their seemingly vast and deep knowledge of the subjects. “rodan huh? fire demon indeed ain’tcha kid?”

[y/name] swore through and through they weren’t a pyromaniac. though their partner, ghost, had a hard time believing that after a mission in peru. which not only resulted in a new scar across their face.. but also an enemy building being set ablaze and leveled to the ground at their hand. the tick that set him off about their weird love of all things fire and demolitions was their manic laughter as the building collapsed.

the callsign made sense to him now, but when he was first partnered with the kid he was set off by their strange obsession, and sharply polished fighting skills. now though, he knew the kid was —excluding their persona on the battlefield— relatively harmless.

couldn’t say the same for their incredible talent in working every last one of his nerves though—

“uuggghhhh.”

—ghost sighed under his breath, though he wouldn’t ever admit it the annoyed feeling he had was stitched with a deep and profound fondness and love for the whining sniper walking behind him.

“keep walkin’.” he grumbled.

“it’s so fucking hot,” they complained. halting for a moment to tug at the bunched up fabric of their tactical joggers creasing up their crotch.

“it’s just the fuckin’ sun kid,” ghost responded.

“well the sun is shitting all over me,” [y/name] grouched, “everything’s rubbing and pinching! i’m in need of some baby powder or something!”

“what you need is a fuckin’ muzzle.” ghost teased, though his comment was insulting his tone let the younger soldier know he was only playing.

“oh wow that was a good one,” they mocked, “it was still a good one the last seventy fucking times you used it.”

“if i’ve had to say it seventy fuckin’ times maybe it’s time to do a little self reflectin’.”

[y/name] feigned a laugh, then dropped their expression to annoyed as they glared at him from the corner of their eye. not that he could see them side-eyeing him past their black tactical goggles. or see their expression through the black tactical mask on the lower half of their face. “you’re so fucking funny. honestly, i’m in goddamn stitches over here.”

ghost let one corner of his lips pull up into a jibing smirk behind his mask, the banter between him and the pyromaniac succeeding in lightening his mood—

“i’m not havin’ a good time either but i’m not gonna whinge the entire time.”

—only slightly.

“well that’s the difference between you and me, that and i’m very good looking.”

“and humble.”

[y/name] laughed, an actual laugh spilling from their lips at his response to their arrogance. ghost spun around, having turned to face the sniper when they stopped to pull the pinching wedgie out of their ass and the pair remaining where the stood throughout the duration of their conversation. “let’s keep movin’. we’re nearly there.”

the masked man didn’t bother turning over his shoulder to make sure they were following, he knew they’d dutifully fall in step behind him as he stalked through the desert plain. and [y/name] did just that, after tugging the creases in their pants loose again.

the sniper didn’t complain much after that, finding a bit of solace in the cool shadows of the canyon they entered, and the way their tactical goggles blocked out most of the reflective light.

if they were to complain about anything other than the sheering heat and blinding sunshine, it would be the mask over the lower half of their face that was making it a touch harder to breathe. they figured ghost was well past his limits with their grousing though so they kept that little problem to themself.

they continued forward regardless, following their partner as he climbed rocks and vaulted over old and withered dead logs. until finally, they made it to their assigned checkpoint.

it was an overhanging ledge, one that had a crystal clear vantage point of the relatively large militia gathering several miles ahead and on level ground.

and that there was their assignment. an arms deal iranian terrorists were to make with russia, and the iranian’s qud’s force general; ghorbrani was due to be there. their mission was to assassinate him. with commander graves of shepherd’s ‘shadow company’ leveling the rest of the gathered militia with a short range missile.

[y/name] let ghost communicate to laswell, and everyone else on their channel that they were in position. graves responded he was ready to launch the missile when they were. with that the masked man turned to his partner at his side. “go ahead kid.”

[y/name] nodded then got down onto their stomach, inching forward in an army crawl until they could perch their rifle right at the very rim of the cliff they were on. when it was set firmly into the grooves of the sandstone they leaned forward and peered through the scope, swiveling the barrel until the crosshair aligned perfectly with general ghorbrani’s head. “set.”

ghost nodded at their word of confirmation then reached up to click the button on the radio strapped to his shoulder. “rodan is clear. launch the missile.”

“copy, sending now.”

[y/name] counted the seconds down in their head, listening in to graves’ countdown as well just to be sure they aligned the shot perfectly.

when they reached two together rodan clenched their finger and pulled the trigger, they watched through their scope as ghorbrani’s head jerked to the side with a geyser of blood before his body dropped.

the men surrounding him panicked, scrambling about and lifting their guns. and that’s all [y/name] saw before they pulled away from their scope and ducked their head into the crook of their elbow. bringing their opposite arm up to cover their head as the missile made contact.

a loud and piercing explosion erupted in their ears as the missile made contact, they felt the rush of wind from the explosive then the rumble of the earth through their gear and uniform.

when [y/name] lifted their head from the cover they saw the area had been demolished, and the smoke from the missile rolling outwards in a ring from the contact point.

“bloody fuckin’ hell,” they heard ghost mutter quickly followed with; “direct hit. target destroyed.”

[y/name] lifted themself from the ground and dusted off the front of their gear, swiping their hand quickly over their pants to get the dust collected on the fabric off.

the dust didn’t puff up in a cloud as they patted their pants though, the sandy colored dirt sticking to their joggers. they grumbled and let the rifle slide from their hands to hang at their hip before using both hands to try and pat it off. again… no avail.

[y/name] growled angrily as their patting and dusting turned aggressive to try and get rid of the shit all over their pants.

“quit fussin’ with it!” ghost growled grabbing their wrists and tugging them away from their joggers. having been watching them grow more and more irritated with the dust in their pants.

“it’s gonna annoy the hell outta me!”

“try to ignore it!”

“i can’t do that if i already know it’s there!”

“well it obviously ain’t gonna come off! just get movin’ back to extract!” he order firmly and in finality, the sniper grumbled under their breath as they spun around when he released their wrists.

ghost followed behind them as they both trekked back the way they came, walking just about a mile or two before coming upon the heli sat idle on a leveled plateau. the pilot still sat in the front with his arms folded and his head dropped forward on his chest.

[y/name] stifled their laughter at the ‘dad pose’ the pilot took to taking a nap and ghost huffed before he roughly pushed them forward. the sniper having stopped to leer humorously at the sleeping soldier. “get your ass in the damn helicopter.” he growled.

[y/name] didn’t say anything as they clambered into the chopper through the gaping door, settling relatively quick on the seat up against the wall of the chopper. they heard ghost knock on the window with his knuckle, the soldier awakening with a flinch as he turned to the source of the noise to find ghost gesturing they were ready to ship out.

the pilot nodded as he slid on a headset and flicked several switches above his head to get the helicopter going. the headphones over their ears muffled out the loud shriek of whirring blades as the bird started up.

ghost climbed in and took the seat directly across from his partner, after sliding on a headset of his own he found himself staring at them.

[y/name] didn’t pay him any mind, long since having grown used to the way he likes to observe and keenly watch everything around him.

they instead lifted their fingers to the sides of their goggles and pulled them off from over their eyes to rest on their hairline. then reaching back, loosened the tightening buckles of their mask, they held it while they tugged down the black tactical shemagh they usually layered underneath their metallic mask down to bunch up in their neck. then let the black steel mask drop to sit in the space of their neck atop of it.

ghost’s focus was immediately drawn to the scars on their face, the one spanning across the left side of their face particularly. starting thin at their hairline and thickening as it scratched over their eyebrow, eye and ended in the middle of their cheek.

then his eyes graced over the one across the right side of their lips, the small x scar on their right cheek, and then finally the medium sized one just above their right eyebrow. that was the one they obtained in peru, when one of the assailants they were fighting managed to knick them with his knife.

when they leaned their head back, closing their eyes with a sigh, ghost could just barely see the thick and jagged scar spanning across the length of the front of their neck. the scar anyone could tell was from someone slashing their throat. [y/name] still remembers that day. vividly.

and they’ve never ever spoken about it. not even to ghost. the only reason he knew the scar existed in the first place was because one day [y/name] hadn’t been wearing the black tactical shemagh they usually wear in their neck to obscure it.

and even now he barely saw it past the brim of said scarf, bunched up around their neck, the tactical mask resting in the dip of their throat obscuring it alongside.

he stared a moment longer before turning away and watching the desert plains as they sped passed. when they finally touched down in their temporary outpost, they both were quick to climb out and make their way inside.

meeting up with laswell and briefing her on how the mission went on their end. then, the pair were shocked to be told they’ve been granted a few months of leave. their station chief believing they could use the long over due off-duty time.

when they got this news neither [y/name] nor simon were too enthusiastic. they both didn’t have much, or anything at all to go home to.. there wasn’t really any reason for them to be excited to temporality be on a break from their militant careers.

what they did have was each other.. and they find solace in that and as usual ghost spent those months with the younger soldier, and as usual he was able to melt back to simon.

simon who was comfortable in [y/name]’s presence. not ghost; the cold and desensitized soldier who had an indifference to everything surrounding him. he could just be simon, the man behind the mask who felt a love like no other for the kid. the kid who had grown on him.

and he was afraid of those implications. for in his very long and very traumatic life simon had come to realize there was nothing good in this world for him. everything he’s ever had that came close to being something or someone he could love.. was incinerated and destroyed.

and he was certain the young soldier would meet the same fate.. but he couldn’t help it. they reminded him so much of himself that it made him dwell on their presence so much more.

he was a bit shocked that he had taken to them so quickly, but he was more so shocked that the sniper in turn had taken a shine to him too.

he knew very little of [y/name]’s background, only what they had told him when they first met about their trauma and nightmarish past. they, only doing so after he shared a bit about what he went through.

though, as the months and months continued to pass he found himself growing more and more attached to the younger. it was a strange thing… whenever in their presence he had felt a warmth he hadn’t felt in years.

a warmth he believed with every sliver of his being had been destroyed alongside any semblance of happiness or comfort he had or would have.

but alas… there they were. [y/name].

his [y/name].

and he would do anything to keep them safe… alive.. he had to. because for once in his entire damn life..

… simon would be selfish.

—

a/n: ik it’s short as hell but i’ve a plan for this okay.. and i’m also trying to finish up the last couple chapter of ‘anpu’ so this is what we’ve got 🌝 i’ve also grown to realize i’ve a habit of not only making [reader] crazy strong and badass but also refuse to reveal any of their history ever lmaooo

#gn!reader #platonic!reader #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #john price #ghost x reader #soap x reader #gaz x reader #price x reader #cod x reader #x reader #reader insert #platonic imagine #platonic relationships

414 notes · View notes

gardenerian · 4 months

Text

tagged by darlings @deedala and @darlingian for this delightful weekly tag game ✨ let's get introspective on a thursday morn'

Name: mel

Location: nyc bb

Astrological Sign: aquarius ♒

What's a TV show or movie you plan to re-watch this year? it's only a matter of time before the bbc pride and prejudice miniseries shows back up on my screen tbh and i am always down for a downton abbey rewatch! also @lizisodd has inspired a probable OC rewatch soon

Whats a book or fic you will probably re-read this year? brideshead revisited is basically a quarterly reread at this point. i also want to reread some of my nonfiction faves and reinvest in my history reading.

What is a song you will likely continue to play on repeat? baby queen's new album and also petey's new album! continuous since like. november, and not an end in sight 🫡

What's a tasty treat you look forward to eating more of this year? any treat will do at this point. i am pretty sure i would commit crimes for a donut right now 🍩✨

What's a time sink that you will continue to sink time into this year? i would like to revisit my time sinks, actually. tumblr, writing, maybe giffing again? i'd like to branch out a bit and try some new things, maybe gif other movies/shows as well and annoy you all further 😇 i feel like it's time to at least try to recommit to the things that make me happy.

Did you pick up any habits in 2023 that you plan to continue? i resumed my long meandering walks this year and i definitely want to keep that up. i love just poking around my neighborhood and saying hi to all the dogs. literally every other habit can stay in 2023 tho tbh

What's your toxic trait? isolating myself so no one thinks i am Bad and Stupid ayyyy

What is a coping mechanism you will continue to indulge in this year? uh. well. hopefully none of the ones i have been practicing lately. we're about to make some serious moves on that. i've been trying to talk more, though, so let's go with that?

Tell me something you like about how you look! oh no. ummm. i had my hair and makeup trial for my wedding last week and i actually quite liked how it turned out. so i guess i like airbrushing lmao i have also been told i have nice shoulders alskdfj

Give me at least three adjectives describing things you like about yourself. hmmm. i am kind and i am sweet, i think. are those the same thing? i am struggling to think of a third thing that isn't also a toxic trait lmao UMM. i have been funny? sometimes i am funny?

whew! getting real here at 11:03 AM! i am not sure who has been tagged or completed this already - but it's been ages since i have gone all in on a tag game so please accept this wave hello and a kiss blown right to your foreheads: @gallawitchxx @heymrspatel @howlinchickhowl @whatthebodygraspsnot @metalheadmickey @whatwouldmickeydo @heymacy @crossmydna @palepinkgoat @rereadanon @sickness-health-all-that-shit @too-schoolforcool @xninetiestrendx @mmmichyyy @thisdivorce @energievie and anyone else that wants to do a lil reflectin and lookin ahead 🥰 ily

#the theme for 2024: reinvesting #revisiting #re....everything #no pressure asdkh #tagged

35 notes · View notes

irl · 3 months

Text

like i been thnkn abt that anon n tht poem n stuff n lik idk man

its jus a culmination of my life n my choices n i honestly n truly n jus?? genuinely believe its how ppl shld behave n its actually rly baffling to me whn people dont and its hard to wrap my head arnd the justifications. and even then im learning more and more every day. like it never stops ykno?? im gonna look back at todays me a year from now n b like man.. im glad i grew from those things

ive been treated in my life with such. despairing inhumanity. from people i loved and from people i didnt even know. ive seen and experienced so many horrible awful things that if i wrote a book, people might want to toss it in the fiction section, ykno?? like. its just been a lot, and its been deeply wounding, literally all my life almost. it wasnt until the past couple yrs that i even started to get to more stable situations and learn how to breathe and exist as a human

and when i was trying to learn how to be an actual real human? as a 24 year old adult? basing myself off of all of my life experience? i was left with basically 2 options

1. wallow, the world has hurt me for a quarter of a century, i cant find it in me to trust anything or anyone, and im going to make it everyone elses problem because why shouldnt i, i deserve it. this is what a lot of people do when they get to this place. it started when i found out my dad died because of government and capital greed, and hell, just last year i had lit cigarette butts thrown at my face constantly and was hatecrimed twice in less than 8 months along with everything else. i deserve to reflect that back

2. learn how to live and be kind. the world hurt me for a quarter of a century, but also i survived it and it wasnt without help. even if i was in the trenches, i still met wonderful people who helped to lift me out sometimes. why not become that person for everyone else? humanity is at our core, and there are people worth fighting for because my love for them is worth fighting for. i deserve to reflect that back

my fight to be better for myself and be better for the people around me has been an ongoing one! its always filled with learning and figuring things out! and i will ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS!! make mistakes. and so will you. ive been fighting for this since i realized i deserved to be treated better when i was like 20 or smth n started the actual work to try and get better

i wasnt always a good person, and even good people have bad moments. but you learn, youll always be learning. im always learning how to be kinder and gentler to the world, and fighting for what i believe in

my aim will always be to fight to help, i want to help, i want to be able to support.

#txt #uslly id put smth lik this all n th tags cos im jus ramblin n reflectin #but it was 2 long 4 th tags #n idk how to do readmore on mobile #whoopsie #sorry

2 notes · View notes

scythetherifle · 10 days

Note

LADY! Autograph? Boy I love yall and your killer stuff. It's so cool..

-Claws

Y’all? Do I look like I got a mouse in my pocket? All my best kills are all my own, thank ya very much. An’ o’course, all my kills are the best’uns.

Not t’ discredit my co-workers; all’a their crimes are attributed t’ them an’ only them—they’re their own problems. It ain’t reflectin’ on me if they get caught! I ain’t about t’ tarnish my clean track record by proxy.

Now look, this ain’t somethin’ I usually do. But y’came out here chasing’ a love for killin’ an’ lookin’ for me. ‘Nd ya found me quicker than the Warden ever has. I can’t let ya go back empty-handed! Don’t get used to this.

{Scythe signs an autograph for Claws. Notably, it’s signed ‘RIFLE’ and has her target symbol drawn next to it. She can’t just be giving out her real signature to anyone.}

#☀️scythe #answerin #claws #anon #ask blog #hiiii claws #i have no idea who you are HAHA

8 notes · View notes

queersrus · 6 months

Text

Npd/Narcissus theme

[npd/narcissus theme]

including narcissus from greek myth as well as anything related to the narcissus flower and npd.

tagging @clusterrune, @narcissist-hoarding

(nick)names:

narc, narci, narcis/narciss, narcisse, narcissa/narcisa, narcisso/narciso, narcet/narcett/narcette, narcetta, narcetto, narcel/narcell/narcelle, narcella, narcello, narcin/narcine, narcina, narcino, narcissus, narcissi, narcissist, narcissisa, narca, narcisset/narcissett/narcissette, narcissetta, narcissetto, narcissel/narcissell/narcisselle, narcissella, narcissello, narcissin/narcissine, narcissina, narcissino, narcissisti, narcissista, NP, ND, nargis, narkissos, narciso, narcyz, narkas, nargiza, narges, narcaf, narcas, narce, narcel, narcie, narcia, narciz, narco, narzy mirror, mirra/miraa/mira, mirrora, mirrorer, Major reflect, reflector, reflecta, reflection, Royal daf/daff, daffy/daffi/daffie, daffo, daffodil jon/john, jonqui, jonquil po/poe, poet, poeti, poetic, poeticus, phea, phae, pheasant, pink, pinki/pinkie/pinky, pinks, pinkster, Prince, Princess, Princex, Prinze eye fin/finn, find, finder, findern lil, lili/lilli/lily/lilly/lillie/lilie, Liriope taz, taze, tazet/tazett/tazette, tazeta/tazetta, thespiae King Cephissus queen, queeny/queenie

surnames:

Narcisse, Narcissa, Narcissi/Narcisi, Narcissist, Narcett, Narcissisa, Narciso/Narcizo, Narci, Narca, Narcis, Narcy Myrror/Mirror, Mirrored Reflector/Reflecter Daffodil Jonquil Poet, Poeticus, Pheasant, Pink, Pinkster Eye(s) Find/Finde, Finder, Findern Lily, Liriope Tazetta Cephissus

1st p prns: i/me/my/mine/myself

ni/nar/narci/narcine/narcself ni/narc/narcs/narcself ni/nar/nargi/nargine/nargisself mi/mirr/mirro/mirrine/mirrorself ri/re/reflec/reflectine/reflectionself di/daff/daffi/daffine/daffodilself ji/jo/jon/jonquine/jonquilself pi/poe/poet/poetine/poetself phi/phea/pheas/pheasine/pheasantself pi/pink/pinks/pinkine/pinkself eye/ee/ey/eyine/eyeself fi/fe/find/fine/findself li/lil/lily/liline/lilyself ti/taz/tazets/tazine/tazettaself

2nd p prns: you/your/yours/yourself

no/narc/narcs/narcself no/nar/nargis/nargiself mo/mirror/mirrors/mirrorself ro/reflector/reflectors/reflectorself do/daffor/daffors/daffodilself jo/jonquir/jonquirs/jonquirself po/poeter/poeters/poeterself pho/pheasar/pheasars/pheasantself po/pinkster/pinksters/pinksterself eyo/eyer/eyers/eyerself fo/finder/finders/findernself lo/liler/lilers/lilyself to/tazer/tazers/tazerself

3rd p prns: they/them/theirs/themself

narc/narcs, np/npd, npd/npds, np/d, n/pd, narc/narcissist, narcissist/narcissists, narcissist/narcissistic, narci/ssist, narci/ssistic, narcissus/poeticus, nar/nargis, narg/nargis, nargi/nargis, nargis/nargis', narcissus/tazetta, narcissus/jonquil mir/mirror, mirr/or, mir/ror, mirror/mirrors, mirror/mirrored, mirror/mirroring reflect/reflects, reflect/reflection, reflect/reflector, reflect/reflected, reflect/reflecting, re/flect daff/daffodil, daffodil/daffodils, daffo/dil jon/quil, jon/jonquil, jonquil/jonquils po/et, poet/poets, poeti/cus, poet/poeticus, poeticus/poeticus, phea/sant, pheasant/pheasants, pheasant/eye, pink/ster, pink/pinkster, pink/pinks, pinkster/pinksters, pinkster/lily fi/findern, find/ern, finder/findern, findern/findernself, findern/flower lil/lily, lily/lilys, lil/y, li/ly taz/tazetta, taze/tazetta, tazetta/tazettas, taz/etta

titles:

the narc, the narcissist, the narcissistic, the one with npd, the npd haver, the one who adores themself/their reflection, the mirror gazer, the one who gazes into the mirror/their reflection, the self-admirer, the flower, the daffodil, the jonquil, the poet, the peots daffodil, the poets jonquil, the poets narcissus, the nargis, the pheasant, the pheasants eye, the findern, the findern(s) flower, the pinkster, the pinkster(s) lily, the lily, the tazetta, the narcissus tazetta, the narcissus jonquil, the (x) of Cephissus, the (x) of Liriope

(prn) who is narcissistic, (prn) who has npd, (prn) who has grandiose delusions/delusions of grandeur, (prn) who loves their reflection, (prn) who loves daffodils, (prn) who loves jonquils, (prn) who loves the nargis, (prn) who loves the pheasants eye, (prn) who loves the findern flower, (prn) who loves the pinkster lily, (prn) who was born to Cephissus, (prn) who was born to Liriope

13 notes · View notes

whiteshipnightjar · 1 year

Text

The Air Again

by Joanna Newsom

June of ‘78 who are you, so arrayed on the banks of Lake Adair. Pale lacuna agape and like the moon in the lake you are not there, my poor canary.

At uncertain behest Maggie blown to the west in a shimmering dust of gold with her pale yellow hair they would call her ‘canary’. And I loved my Maggie so, and that is all you need to know.

But women here ain’t ever glad, not even Emma Nevada, coming back to share her wedding cake. Women here ain’t ever free (and Emma never left) we never leave, we never last we never ask we never stake a claim or complain or take.

Not till I made a play for a parcel that lay on the Amador county line. Had a notion that I’d find employ by-and-by at the Lonesome Willow Mine but they don’t enlist my kind. In the meantime, set to prospecting where I was able and laying my Maggie a table. And when it was warm we would pan, when it stormed play Fan-Tan, and when it was cold they’d come sniffin’ with gold in their hands.

On and on and again on and on and again, you do what you can.

Take an eighth of an ounce in allowance for the dance, only a dance, if you’re alone and abandoned and cast aside. You know, the pastor tried in vain to ask her hand, even him, everybody did.

And I had a plan but I had to sign away my mine and the deed left us free to scrape and bleed and go to seed and never marry not canary canary canary canary canary canary canary canary canary canary.

In the spring of that year when the tinker was here, gals would hire him to mend their tin. I heard ‘em swarm from afar like a storm in a jar, like a choir of cherubim, singing *him, hymn, hymns.

Whispering, ‘Maggie had gone must’ve skipped with someone’, sounded wrong though it did seem fair.

April turned into May and I looked every day for you, Maggie, ‘til I heard they found a whore with the golden hair on the shores of Lake Adair. On the sluice she was spread loose and languid and dead from the kindness that she had shown. Still she told me her tale lifting veil after veil to expose a grin a-honed, my yellow rose in the lode a-blown.

And though I long to believe as I muddied my sleeve, and I studied the wiccan hap, and I want to revive, she was never alive. But by the grace and the whim, and the wheel, and again, and the wickedness of men.

But what to do then? I hauled myself up from the shore and I called at the door of the foreman. I told him and he laughed.

So, alas, there was savagery there. Left a hole in his heart you could roll a cabbage in ‘A cabbage?!‘ “Oh, no no, just a little one, Maggie, just a little one.”

On and on and again ‘til they saw what I am and I am never done, I am never done.

Went inside for the light, got a paper and a pen, where to begin? Do you sue for the rights? Root* for the strike? Through the alluvium to where it heeds *for I’m putting my own ruin ‘til the end to lure o’er the deed. A noose on a live oak tree bent toward the saloon tent and meant for me and Maggie.

And though it wasn’t him, it could’ve been him, or anyone who had done what I know so many men intended when they came to win.

So arrogant, arrogant, arrogant, arrogant, arrogant, arrogant, arrogant, arrogant, arrogant, arrogant.

Held a cloth to my hands taking stock of my plans, well, there was something I had to make right. I took his old buggy whip and I lowered a skip in the glow of the sodium lights with a load of dynamite.

Maggie said, “I am here.” And with a touch on the ear, “After thirty years down in the mine, help me lead out the mules help me free the poor fools, let them see for the very first time they were blind, blind, blind.”

Then we rode through the rift and we beckoned to moon reflectin’ and she opened her neck like a stream. I saw the Father appear, heard her sob in my ear like a mob of cherubim, howling “him, him. It was him. It was him.”

So I threw a charge down the shaft in the cart with the pastor who spat and evangelized. He was the last and the worst — canary always goes first — to sing where the waters rise, hear her sing – go on now, Maggie –

On and on, on and on, on and on, and again and on and on on and on and again on and on and again.

Then a knock on the wall and a knock and we all fall in and down and in, and down and in and we pass away. But we pass only the baton man to man, and so they return. Pull the pumps, fill the sumps, for they’re takin’ something; they will never learn, they will never learn. And even if the churn drill and the stamp mill and the Pelton wheel, and the smoking furnace all a-burning, overturning, learning she will never breathe the air again air again air again air again air again air again air again air again air.

Like a screech of a flare, or like they’re reaching for air beneath the smothering eiderdown. Veins of gold, still outstretched in a silent arrest for miles and miles abound.

And if I’m underground let me join in that line, let me toil in that mine, let me find what is hiding there, let me dig where I durst, let me drink when I thirst and let me breathe the peril air.

And breathe for my canary, and breathe. Let me breathe. Let me breathe for my canary, breathe for my canary canary canary, breathe for my — canary always goes first — breathe for my canary canary canary canary, breathe for my — canary always goes first — breathe for my canary canary canary canary canary canary, breathe for my — canary always goes first — breathe for my canary canary canary canary canary canary canary canary.

#joanna newsom #the air again #well that was a mighty task #made me do linguistics research too hahaha #she's a story teller extraordinaire #ok a few asterisks #'root for the strike' or 'route for the strike' both make sense just slightly different meaning but joanna loves a homophone #the same with 'him' or 'hymn' and here i think she's done it on purpose meaning in the official lyrics we might see both in different places #so there i wrote them both out #'for I’m putting my own ruin ‘til the end to lure o’er the deed' this one's a tough cookie i also hear 'open moon'#she does sing about the moon in a couple places here so it'd fit but it doesn't make sense so i'm sticking with the version i wrote out #this was fun thanks for indulging me <3 #jnew5 lyrics #love joanna #jnew

52 notes · View notes