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weirdthoughtsandideas · 5 years

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The Quagmire-Baudelaire switch part 1: Don’t worry world don’t feel disgrace

Reference guide

Chapter 1: A very sad day

There is a long reference to the Catalan Kids show ”the triplets” but it’s explained there what it is and what it’s about

”Quiet you will wake up Tweedle dee and Tweedle dum” a reference to the characters of the same name from Alice in wonderland

Chapter 2: Why Mr. Poe should not take care of guardian choosing

”One bed.” Isadora sighed. ”Fantastic.” A reference to the deleted scene from the 2004 movie

Chapter 3: Olaf slaps a child (or technically a teenager)

”Quigley had got stuck on a story about three children that ran away from home, and they just found a homeless man that sold glue” A reference to the swedish movie, ”På rymmen med Pippi Långstrump”, or in english, ”On the run with Pippi Longstocking”

”Duncan had found an autobiography about some girl that claimed she was the most prettiest (...) girl in the world.” Reference to Carmelita’s autobiography

Chapter 4: A spoon of complaints and a cube of evilness

No particular references in this chapter

Chapter 5: Duncan is made for theatre

"Only something about a lady giving all of her money to her cats after she died, so the butler kidnapped them and then he got himself to Timbuktu." Obvious reference to Aristocats

Chapter 6: A long and confusing chapter including a play

No particular references in this chapter

Chapter 7: The Quagmires first (and last) day of school

”It was the roof of the house she and her sister lived in. And the girl wanted to see if she could fly, so she borrowed her dad’s umbrella and jumped of the roof to see if she would fly away!" A reference to Astrid Lindgren’s ”Madicken” which is the book Isadora was reading

”(...) You can't kill the one who the story is about!" Reference to all the... stories where the main character dies?

”(...) And you were already weird because you just invent things and have to put up your hair to think!" This is most likely a very famous character they have encountered

Chapter 8: Everyone is unharmed in the reptile room

”Holy shiitake mushrooms.” A reference to Carmen’s catchphrase in Spy Kids

Chapter 9: Why Stephano is something you shouldn’t name your child

No particular references in this chapter

Chapter 10: Stephano gets kicked out (or does he?)

No particular references in this chapter

Chapter 11: Stephano goes Carrey-style

"Probably some old man's fucking bones." A reference from a line in IT chapter 1 (2017)

"Did he just do a Carrey?" This refers to the title but also the fact that in the 2004 movie, Olaf, played by Jim Carrey, just dashes out of the house when he’s Stephano.

Chapter 12: Three four year olds vs a large lake

No particular references in this chapter

Chapter 13: No one listens to Quigley

"I remember a lot of things from my early childhood! Like the time we broke that spoiled girl's teddy (...)” A foreshadowing to a later chapter

Chapter 14: The Quagmires have various conversations

No particular references in this chapter

Chapter 15: Candy canes for the people

I don’t know if it counts, but Poe calls the Quagmires the wrong names multiple times. He calls them the ”Baudelaires” and the ”Calibans” for example.

Chapter 16: Isadora speaks like a finnish female pirate

"Shiitake mushrooms." Again, a reference to spy kids

Chapter 17: Everything happens so damn fast

No particular references in this chapter.

Chapter 18: Why Duncan hates treehouses (and trees in general)

"Don't call me Ish!" ”Why would he call you Ish?" A reference to a certain dictator who doesn’t force you to use that name

"Tattle-tale." Isadora whispered grumpily. Hard to know, but it’s actually a reference to Berlioz calling Marie a tattle tale from the Aristocats

Chapter 19: Phil is happy to be your co-worker

"I had a dream where I lived in ancient Greece and met some girl with black hair and a bowtie who wanted to tell me something." Ok. In ancient Greece lived Sappho. Sappho was a poet, just like Isadora. The girl with black hair and a bowtie is a main character in asoue.

”(...) what kind of irresponsible teacher would just forget three children they are responsible for?" A reference to all the fucking irresponsible teachers in the world

Chapter 20: Duncan gets dust in his eyes

"Duncan, I can assure you that nobody here will break their arm or leg for that matter due to any wood." Fooooreshaaadoowiiiing~

Chapter 21: Inordinate amounts of weird behaviour

No particular references in this chapter

Chapter 22: A fatal, optimistic accident

"Why, but you are so small!" (...) "Uh, yeah?" Duncan said, "We are children." A reference to a line from Charlie and the chocolate factory from 2005

Chapter 23: A real fatal accident at Lucky Smells

No particular references in this chapter

Chapter 24: The Quagmires kill a spoiled girl’s teddy bear

Carmelita’s mom is named Veruca, based on Veruca Salt

Chapter 25: New school, new chapter

No particular references in this chapter

Chapter 26: Where the shipping starts

No particular references in this chapter

Chapter 27: Very lovely indeed with a twist

No particular references in this chapter

Chapter 28: Olaf ruins everything

”What if we walk in on him stroking his violin?” I did this joke some chapters ago but this time someone else than Nero says it. It’s a dirty joke.

Chapter 29: Why many children was afraid of P.E after reading the austere academy

No particular references in this chapter

Chapter 30: An examination gone wrong

”This is a solidarity act” Violet is bisexual and Isadora is a lesbian. It’s a WLW solidarity

”Quigley, what color were the elephants I saw floating in the sky (...)” ”Pink” This is a reference to pink elephants on parade from Dumbo

”What comes after ’love love, peace peace’ in the second chorus of the song?” ”It’s ’and a burning fake piano” THIS GUYS is a reference to the song Love, Love, peace peace from Eurovision song contest 2016.

Chapter 31: Rich kids exploring a rich party

No particular references in this chapter

Chapter 32: A penthouse of familiarity and funny names

”I am Isadora Avi Quagmire.” A reference to the actress Avi Lake who played Isadora in Netflix

The hairdresser is named Bobbi, after Bobbi from Phineas and Ferb (who also was a hairdresser)

Chapter 33: Gunther ruins everything, yeah thanks for that Gunther

”I have seen stranger things.” ”We all have.” A reference to Stranger Things

”My name isn’t Quiglefort.” ”Yes, it is.” Foreshadowing to a thing in part 2 of this AU

Chapter 34: This abyss of world destroyed

The title is a reference to the Gothic archies ”This abyss”

”Don’t worry Baudelaires, don’t feel disgrace (...) The Quagmire triplets are on the case.” Reference to that poem from TAA, and also a reference to the title of QBS. Part 1s undertitle is ”Don’t worry world don’t feel disgrace” and part 2 is ”The Quagmire triplets are on the case”

Chapter 35: Runaway triplets

”Duncan? Did you just OD in there?” A reference to Steve and Robin’s famous bathroom scene from stranger things

Chapter 36: Too many rules for a village

”Rule 2001 says ’do not quite people from other universes’.” Quigley said shiitake mushrooms, which I have explained twice is from spy kids. Spy kids came out in 2001.

Chapter 37: Why children shouldn’t help someone out of jail

”(...) if the council of elders find out-” ”We’re dead!” A reference to a line from stranger things 3 episode 1

There’s a whole paragraph where Duncan said he has checked atleast ”seven million billion thousand times” and then the triplets remember how they used to dance around a coffin in their uncle Elwyn’s house. That was a reference to the musical Fun Home, particularly the song ”Come to the fun home” where the children make a commercial about their funeral home.

Chapter 38: An emotional escape

”Shit.” (...) ”Where?” A reference to when Violet said ”rats.” in TVV, and Klaus thought it was actual rats. But, in the swedish translation they translated ”rats” to ”shit”. I thought it was so funny I had to include it here

That was all for part 1! Thanks for supporting this fanfic of mine!

#asoue #asoue au #isadora quagmire #duncan quagmire #quigley quagmire #the quagmire triplets #the quagmire baudelaire switch #violet baudelaire #klaus baudelaire #count olaf #esme squalor #reference guide

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lovebunnie · 4 years

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fr the poem questions: all of them >: )c

jared... only for you...

the tyger – are you a taker of calculated risks or do you enjoy playing with fire? would you rather ask for permission or forgiveness?

i am a major rule follower, i am not at all adventurous and i like to stay in my comfort zone. my life is a mix of staying true to my comfort zone and doing what I feel is right, first instinct.

i carry your heart with me – do you believe in fate? what’s your secret to living a good life?

i tend to not believe in fate, it tends to make people not take responsibility for their actions and it leaves a bad taste in my mouth; predestination takes away humility from us. and i wouldnt say that im currently living a good life, its getting there but more often then not i would not describe my days as ‘happy’, more so just another day. but to make a day not outwardly bad, i firmly believe in having a really good breakfast in the morning and taking a shower at night. both of those really make my days better.

i wandered lonely as a cloud – what does nature mean to you? where do you feel most at peace?

nature for me is what comes to us instinctively and what we turn to for comfort in trying times. i feel the most at peace either at summer camp or in my bedroom with my cat :3

blackberrying – what were your early years like? do you miss being a child?

my early years were very happy, i was a very happy and funloving child. it was a time where i wasnt told about any of my family drama so i lived in blissful ignorance. i definitely miss being a child, all the way up to about 7th grade. its just been downhill from 8th grade and on.

ode to a nightingale – how do you feel about your own mortality? do you believe in life after death?

my mortality is something of a burden i carry with me everyday, a reminder that every minute is precious and this is the only life i get, i have one shot to not fuck it up. i dont believe in the afterlife, the concept of death is something that if i think too hard about then itll fuck me up.

hope is the thing with feathers – what gives you hope? what would you tell your 10-year-old self?

hope comes from those news stories about good news, like charity donation goals being hit and remembered anniversaries and flower bouquets in public, there is good in the world and sometimes its hard to find but its always there. to my 10 year old self, i would tell her to not hold too tightly to those around you, and that life constantly changes so dont get too attached or comfortable because itll prevent you from growing in the future.

the road not taken – do you find it hard to make decisions? what regrets do you have?

its really hard to make decisions because i always assume that my ideas are wrong or bad so if someone else takes the lead, i cant be blamed. as far as regrets, i wish that in my past, i just put myself out there more. i couldve spent highschool actively seeking for possibilities instead of sulking and wishing they came to me. they dont ever, you have to find them.

still i rise – what's your relationship with yourself like? what are your best qualities?

i have a bad relationship to myself; if i admire one trait about myself, the other traits must be less than. for example, if i think i look nice one day, then i remember abt my grades or my writing and how much i hate both of those. i can never be fully at peace, it will never be enough to sate my psyche. my ‘best’ qualities depend on the day, right now i think i have nice eyelashes.

howl – can you express yourself freely? do you feel smothered by societal norms?

i struggle everyday to be my genuine self. its not so much societal norms but my own mind; i want to look nice but i dont want to attract too much attention. i want to be remembered but not for how good my ass looks or whatever. my biggest fear is that people see me as something desirable but only sexually so i want to dress how i feel but i cant because im terrified of the gaze of men on my campus.

the raven – are you in touch with your feelings? how would you describe the relationship between emotions & rationality?

im extremely in touch with my feelings. i can acknowledge when i am angry or sad or happy, even if i dont know why. i allow myself to feel my feelings and then let them pass, i hate bottling those things up. between emotions and rationality, i use my emotions 9 times out of 10. i ask myself, ‘what do i want?’ and the first thing i come up with, i know is what i truly want to do.

sonnet 116 – how do you define love? what qualities do you look for in a significant other?

i think love is everything; its the warmth of hanging out with familiar people, its when people remember facts about you, its a meaningful hug and its ‘this reminded me of you’. its different for everyone but i feel love in everything i do. in a significant other, the biggest thing is being able to make me laugh, if youre funny than im sold.

to autumn – what's your favorite season and why? what cherished memories do you associate with that season?

my favorite season is winter because it has lots of holiday warmth, good food, pleasant childhood memories, and comfortable clothing. also i love snow. i have very vivid memories of a blizzard in maryland when i was 11(?) years old, my neighbor tied a sled to the back of his ATV and dragged us around the cul de sac, it was so much fun!!

the waste land – do you like big cities? if you could choose any place on earth, where would you settle down?

i love big cities, they evoke so many feelings of love and the atmosphere being surrounded by people makes me so happy! if i could live anywhere, i think it would be san francisco, i love the city and the weather and the public transportation!!

o captain! my captain! – what are your aspirations in life? what motivates you?

in life, i want to give a tedtalk. i would also love to publish a book but i dont like what i write so if i ever did, id end up hating the book anyway in a year or so. i want to teach people the joy of public speaking and i want to give kids the joys i had given to me by my teacher when i was their age. my motivation comes from, this has to be done and if no one else will do it, it might as well be me. i have the passion and everything else will follow after that.

she walks in beauty – what's your aesthetic? how would you describe the relationship between inner goodness & outer beauty?

id describe my aesthetic as lovecore, i love the color pink and red and hearts and flowers and teddy bears and dresses and sparkles and valentines day and i love everything stereotypically ‘cute’. and i feel there is no outer beauty without inner goodness, if someone has bad intentions or a rotten core, their outward appearance will reflect.

one art – how do you deal with loss? do you write diary entries, poetry or prose?

thankfully i have not had to go through tremendous loss in my life but when i feel an emotional loss or general low point, i tend to move towards art, aimless doodling to take my mind off of situations. it centers me.

work, sometimes – how does your favorite weather make you feel? what is happiness to you?

my favorite weather makes me feel SO happy, all smiley and giddy and like things are going to be okay, just for one day, i will make this a good one. happiness to me is comfort and joy, its something that makes you laugh until your sides hurt and its art that you look at and feel. happiness isnt a huge moment, its little moments scattered throughout the days.

acquainted with the night – do you think there's such thing as the right time? what’s your outlook on the world?

no, i dont like to set things off for the thought of there being a right and wrong time. time isnt real and we only have so long on earth so there is no time but the present. go get that tattoo, ask them out, eat that snack. my outlook on the world is that there is a lot of bad shit but there is also a lot of good shit you will never see but it important nonetheless. you cant change the world in a day so you might as well take it one day at a time, working everyday to make it as good as possible.

if – do you daydream a lot? are you volatile, or do you stay calm when conflicts arise?

i love to day dream, it helps me determine what i really want and its a lovely distraction when the goings get tough. i try to avoid conflicts in every situation possible but if i were pushed, id either accept my mistake and apologize and work towards a better future; or i would tell the other person how im feeling and what i can do to help them feel better.

what would i give? – do you cry often? if you could change anything about your past, what would it be?

things make me sad but rarely enough to cry, things more so tend to weigh me down then break me. i let the sadness take me however it sees fit. and if thats to cry, so be it. if i could change anything about my past, i would just say that you will only get this chance to start over in a new state once, the years will go by quick so to TAKE OPPORTUNITIES WHEN THEY SHOW THEM SELF TO YOU!!!!!!

#adoration #rockcandey #stan tag #this took so long

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justxdove · 4 years

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Hello all! :0) I’m Biv and I’m excited to be here! My baby bird? Mm, maybe not so much, but I live for ✨ a n g s t ✨ so she’s going to deal with it. Introducing Dove! Selective mute and interrogation specialist / informant currently affiliated with the O’sheas (unmarked).

tw: childhood trauma

(Important bits bolded and italicized. ~)

( golshifteh farahani, 37, female, she/her ) Was that DILSHAD “DOVE” BOISSIÈRE ? I heard a rumor they work for the O’SHEA family, but who knows for sure ? They can be a bit ALOOF & RESENTFUL, but I also heard they can be SINCERE & TENDER. You’ll usually find them at THE LIBRARY in their spare time, when they’re not being an INTERROGATION SPECIALIST (UNMARKED). You may want to keep an eye on that one ! ( biv, she/her, 23, est, n/a )

Her past

Dove’s full name is Dilshad Fleur Marie Boissière. Dilshad meaning joyous or heart, Fleur, of course, meaning flower. Her father used to call her his happy little rosebud.

She was such a silly child. She would introduce herself as Dil at one point in time. “Like the pickle” she used to say. But she’ll never be that kid again. Now? She introduces herself as Dove and Dove alone. She refuses to offer a last name unless it’s explicitly required of her and often she’ll just make one up. There are so few people who know her as Dil, even fewer who know her full name. Many, if not all of them, are dead now. Such is life. At this point, Dove has let Dil kind of… die with them.

Dove doesn’t like to talk about her childhood even though many of her memories of it are beautiful and full of love and warmth. Her mother was quickly estranged from her family after marrying out of her culture and her father had no blood relatives, only chosen family which was just as important.

An only child, she didn’t have many kids her age to play with but was never alone. She was always watched by this “uncle” or that and was dotted over. Not to mention her pen pals in Chicago who brought her so much joy. Namely, a determined blonde by the name of Amelia. A couple years her junior but always more tenacious, serious, than Dil was.

She didn’t truly understand what her father’s line of work was as a child, she just knew that they bounced around a lot. She’s lived in France, Ireland, Chicago, France again, and so on.

She remembers the last time she saw her father: She was playing with a skipping rope, you know the one: Teddy Bear, Teddy Bear, Turn around… It was a special day because she finally got to hang out with Dad who was hardly ever home. And she was so excited. They went to get ice cream, he got vanilla always, she got strawberry. They had a great time, she remembers that. She also remembers it all unraveling. So fast. How she was scooped up by an uncle who wasn’t from around where they lived (he spoke with a funny accent she now knows was from the East coast of Ireland). She remembers losing her sandal and watching it get smaller and smaller in the distance as she was carried away from her father, shoved to the ground like in her jump rope song by men she didn’t know. It’s all a blur really. Dove does remember him screaming something incoherent and opening her lips to say something back but not having any voice left. And then getting home. So began the race against the clock, shoving only the most important and valuable possessions they owned into suitcases and leaving. She never saw that house again. She never saw her father again. It was the first time they left France. She was 6.

She understood then they were never, would never be, a normal family. But it was all she knew. She was homeschooled, had very few friends, and little interest in jump rope anymore. It was written in the stars for her to go into the family business. And maybe she felt she owed it to her father (and mother who fell victim to an all too similar demise) to finish what they started. And that, unfortunately, meant leaving France (again) and going to Chicago (again) and reconnecting with the O’sheas. Who else did she have left, really?

Her work

Dove has three cardinal rules she lives by and will die before she breaks: 1) No children. I will not have them. I will not work on them; 2) No killing. I will not murder. This does not make me any less of a bad person. I know this; 3) No initiation. Under no circumstances will I put any symbol of any family nor gang on my body. This is what killed my parents.

That said, she remains loyal to the O’sheas. It is a... point of contention between her and the family, that she won’t go through the initiation after all these years.

Dove does not fraternize with the Fausts though she does occasionally take work elsewhere.

The alias “Dove” was actually given to her by other people. It just happened. Maybe because she helped people find some sort of “peace” (some people rather), maybe it was because she seemed… dainty. Maybe it was an ode to her father who most knew as “Red” (a reference to the redtail hawks he loved). She became something of a hot commodity and she supposed they needed a name to call her by. It was quaint, and it stuck. It was fine.

Dove gets information. Fast, neat, in and out. She’s good at what she does and hates herself for it. That’s all anyone needs to know. How long she’s been on the O’sheas’ call is on a need to know basis. How long her parents has been involved with the O’sheas is on a need to know basis. That she works with the O’sheas at all is, you guessed it, on a need to know basis. She’s not vocal about any aspect of her career.

Family is important. And she loves the O’sheas. But she can’t seem to bring herself to get too politically involved. She genuinely doesn’t have the energy. Another point of contention.

As far as the nitty-gritty of her intel gather goes she doesn’t talk about that either. The word torturer makes her ruffle. She won’t talk to you about her work.

Misc. Facts

When Dove isn’t working she’s painting. She does pretty well for herself, even having painted some murals across Chicago under the moniker: D.B.. It’s not her main source of income of course, but she loves it more than most things in the world.

Speaking of art, Dove used to frequent the Art Institute but after the attack, she has yet to go back. To Dove, it felt like the attempted murder of a dear friend.

As of late, she’s favored the library, books were her first love after all.

She runs cold (literally and figuratively). But when you get to know her she can be so warm, like sugar cookies at Christmas warm. She loves flowers. And her cat. And matcha tea. And she likes cooking for people and dancing in the kitchen. She just… never lets herself get close to anyone enough to offer anymore. She’s pretty lonely, I think.

She’s a secret hopeless romantic. She’s french. Let her live.

Connections

Of course, any of the O’sheas / O’shea affiliates

Anyone involved in crime / the black market

Possible love interest(s)? (*Past or Present. Dil is so closed off, you would have to really be something special for her to open up to you in that regard)

Flings (*Now this is different, Dove is pretty sensual, to be honest. She’s a bit of a bi-con, you know? Definitely, the awkward thumbs up trash bisexual. Everything is wrong with her except for the way she dresses.)

Honestly, anything (*Please hit me up! I’m always open to plot. Some of y’all will probably see me sliding into your dm’s as I post this ha)

Ok, that’s all! TL;DR Dove is a 37-year-old interrogation specialist associated with the O’sheas. She’s bi, an artist, and hasn’t been fine since she was six years old :) but it’s fine :)) It’s fine :)))))

#crimson.intro #{ lil' dove things ; musings }

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isuckandotheressays · 7 years

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PART 1 ; self-saboteur

How can you even start to talk about something like this without sounding so fucking cliché it makes your teeth hurt. Stuff is hard, like really hard, and it will be forever, and I know that. I am like, obscenely good at whining, I can whine about pretty much anything, the weather, the fact I have nothing to wear, the fact that I don’t get what I want. I'm internally spoiled, but I think everyone is really, any one that isn't is lying, what type of crazy person likes when they don’t get what they want? Unless you are ,like a masochist, which in some ways I probably am, or at least a self-saboteur.

Anyway, unimportant. More importantly, my life is currently in shambles. The love of my life won't talk to me because he's upset that I tried to kill myself. Now I'm sure from an outwards perspective that makes him sound unfeeling, a dick, but to be honest I'm the dick.

Don’t get me wrong, I 100% wanted to die, I could not see my way out. I weighed out my options, I could hang myself from the loft bed he built for me, but I'm too tall and it wouldn’t have worked. I would slit my wrists, but then I would get heaps of blood on the 70's carpet and that would be just like, disrespectful to my housemates. So, my final thought was just to take as many of my sleeping meds as I could and just like, go to sleep. I wrote a note, in tears, obviously, I had fucking lost it.

I individually popped out the pills and took them one by one, slowly getting more and more tired, getting less and less conscious. I kept thinking about random things, like how mad everyone is going to me if I survive this, how fucked it's going to be for Luke, how I've probably ruined his life. So I thought in my drug addled state, I should probably just like message saying I'm sorry to all my friends or whatever. Because I'm a dirt human.

Suicide, is a really selfish thing, the most selfish thing you can do, but at that point in time, I couldn’t see my way out. I felt worthless, that the person I cared for the most in the world was never going to trust me again, that my best friends didn’t want to hang out with me because I'm so fun because I'm a useless sad lump that wines, can't even drink red wine because I become some heaps horrible bitchy cynical version of myself. That I would always disappoint my parents, because to this day, I don’t actually want to do what they want me to do and I really just want to be a starving artist and make art about how sad I am all the time.

Anyway, I squeezed out some drama queen ass text to the people that meant the most to me, 'I'm sorry I love you' , which I meant but in hindsight as someone that wanted to die peacefully and alone in their house, is not a good move because people care about if you are dead or alive and well, got scared if they get that message out of the blue. So next minute, my dad, arrives in a cab, and I go to Emergency, and no one really takes what goes on particularly seriously and then in a bed and some doctor is making me drink some sludgy black coal shit to soak up all the medication in my stomach (side note it's been three days at this point and all that is coming out of me is like spirited away anime style sludge.

So, I wake up and I'm going to the ward, this is like 8 at night, I did all this pill business at about Noon, and I'm sitting in the waiting room with my mum and dad who are literally at their whit's end with their nerves shot because their only child has an inability to cope with real life.

Side note, I am a productive member of society, I have job, that I mostly like and work hard at, I do a little bit of 'faffy' modeling for cash when I can, I get up I get coffee, I catch the train to school etc. Granted my mum pays my phone bill because I'm a 22 year old child that can't do real life human things. But yeah, back to the ward.

PART 2 ; repercussions

I'm sitting there waiting at the mental health ward and they literally come and give me some belongings I left there the time before. Like I'm some frequent flyer, I sort of laugh under my breath but try to stifle it because I love my parents more than anything and I don't want to make this situation any more confusing and awful than what it is. I go to the tiny mini fridge and fish out a cheese sandwich because the stuff I took to OD makes you so fucking hungry.

So I'm admitted, given the awkward PJ's, some hectic sedatives and put in the room with the vinyl mattress like the ones in jail I'm sure, except in the ward they give you milo and night and speak in hushed tones and take your blood pressure a lot and offer you adult colouring books.

Then I'm in the room and I'm thinking things. The things I'm thinking are about the fact that I did not succeed in ending my life and now there are repercussions. I have to not only feel shit, I have to feel guilty because what I have done to the people who love me is so monumentally horrible and I'm a bad selfish person who is never going to be loved, etc. Then I think about if I had done it another way, if it had worked, then I fall asleep.

I'm woken up by a student nurse that looks about 15 rolling in a huge blood pressure machine. The soft voice ensues like fucking silk "so, uh, cay, do you feel safe? Do you feel like hurting yourself? Killing yourself? Feeling a bit better than yesterday?" And me, being a fucking idiot, says, "oh yeah I'm fine now, just tired you know". Because, from lots of practice, I'm a master at pretending I'm okay (I'm being sarcastic hopefully you get that and I don’t just sound like a prized IDIOT).

Hours down the track in walk out in my gross green PJ's and look at who else in in the ward. Literally exactly what you would expect, some full grown woman with pink hair doing a puzzle of teddy bears, some 'methy' looking guy talking to himself in the room (until this point I thought this was a ward for woman only) that has a video of a waterfall on loop and an extremely greasy middle ages Asian woman being scolded for trying to sleep when she has to be awake because its day time. Nobody talks to each other, we are all sort of collectively embarrassed, no one really knows how to act, do we like smile at each other? Or do we have to prove our sadness to each other? I just keep my head down mainly until I get handed the sludgy meal that we have to eat with a spoon because u could mince yourself with a fork or knife. I recon if you really wanted you could use a spoon, I recon if you really wanted you could use anything like, it's pretty fucked up but I think about that all the time. I know pretty much all the things in a room that I could use to hurt myself.

Like spoon? Easy, I would just either with all the force in my body, sorry for the gore, slam the not spoony part into my wrist and like , blood would Tarintino style go everywhere. I could also just like shove it down my throat and choke. I recon I could like, paper cut myself to death, that’s so morbid, oh my god, sorry.

PART 3; insidious thing

Fast track to now, I'm at my parent's house, with a shaved head, in the country, the love of my life won't talk to me. I'm almost certain that he's going to leave me, he's already moved out and he's basically sick of my shit. And to be honest, even though it fucking hurts, its fair enough.

Backtrack again, I worked at the pub, and everyone there just like, happened to do cocaine, so I tried cocaine, and of course, it was great but very expensive. If went from something fun to something I needed to get through a shift because I was so tired. Then I would spend all my money on it. Then the guy would show up at the bar and I would just swipe my card and take money out of the till. Like at the start it was spending my money, and then I started stealing the money.

Now, I have a huge problem which honestly, I like being on drugs, plus being bipolar, oh yeah, but now that’s up for negotiation and could be a personality disorder or whatever. I didn’t tell anyone I was doing this, not even my partner or my friend who could have helped me. Especially, my partner. But again, dirt human remember.

So, I was holding that secret in for ages, like was literally killing me. It was the most insidious thing ever. But I've always stuffed in and marred the truth to protect myself. When I was younger, like childhood till I was 16, I had a really hard time at making friends so I literally would just make shit up. But when I was first diagnosed and had my first break up, I worked out that, that probably wasn’t optimum to being like an alright human. So I stopped saying I was related to famous models and that I got kicked out of karate because I punched the teacher and started telling the true story about the stress nose bleeds, of the white robes and I was related to a bunch of people that lived in Yass, as in many merinos (no offence to my family - you are all phenomenal).

PART 4; him

Forward, I hadn't told my parents this immense thing, and I was lying about what actually happened. So I told them. And, they really didn’t care. Not only what this an insane and complete surprise to me, it made me feel even worse that I have been an absolutely horrendous person to my partner.

So now, I am petrified. I'm writing this with my newly shaved golf ball head, he's not talking to me and I'm this total wreck of self-hatred and total disarray. Because I want to be with him, I don’t want to hurt him. But I don’t know how to move forward. I don’t know how to make someone trust you again, and I sure as hell don’t think I deserve to have such a fucking angel in my life.

Like you know those classically handsome boys from teen movies, yeah think about that, but like Bowie dreamy. Big ass blue eyes, freckles, tall, absolutely killer smile. He supports my art, he's good with kids and animals, he's stupid crazy intelligent, goofy and gets my humor, that I barely get sometimes. Like I have no idea how human trash like me could have made this person fall in love with me. One time, he fucking flew overseas to see me on our anniversary because he missed me. He has written obscure punk songs about me. He also supports me immensely, which I owe my life to, on many occasions.

To be honest, I will understand if he's over it, he could do so much better, he could like, date a girl who is not legally insane, that would not self-harm and lie and do batshit stuff like some crazy murderer. But, I do want to get better for him. And I am trying, I've enrolled in this crazy program that the psych lady said would improve my honesty as well as make me be able to deal with real life grown up situations like an adult and not some mentally inept baby thing. I am trying. Shaving my hair was a thing for me. I needed a physical change to put stuff in motion. I'm in motion now. And I hope that he sees that, but I understand, I truly I am the worst.

Skip forward to two weeks later, we ended it, I broke it I really did. But that okay, because you have to have a red hot go at being by yourself. I am weirdly happy, elated even, I feel like ive got myself back. Its crazy that you don’t even notice how much you have lost yourself until your alone, the cracks in what seemed like a perfect relationship start to show. Not to throw shade, but I think that I embarrassed him sometimes and tried to hard to act cool. And to be honest, I recon I am pretty fucking cool. I bent myself to fit around him, even my aspirations, even my work even my internet presence. He never let me 'vlog' he thought it was lame, seems like such a teeny thing but I full want to vlog. I want to talk into the abyss that in Instagram, hear an echo or not.

I guess its all a learning curb really, you got to lose what you think you want to get what you need. I could 'smiths' along and ask to 'please please, please, let me let me let me, get what I want this time' but right now, I'm still working out what that is. It's pretty flippin' great.

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