#Any instance i see of myself getting the chance to be perceived in a non art way my knees go weak | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

the-nysh · 5 years

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I find myself unable to think of Bakugou in any way more positive than "dislike", because he reminds me too much of the people who made my life miserable when I was growing up. (Not that it makes him bad; it's just my emotions.) Do you've any advice on how to bend my mind around that? I don't need to LOVE him, just mentally separate "him" and "the people who make grade school suck for me" so I won't irrationally hate him, because I don't LIKE hating characters.

Hi there! I’m glad to see you come forward, especially tosomeone who’s a big fan of him, after happening to see how far you’veventured through my tags already (whoa dedication!) to seek possible answers or further clarity about this,especially if it’s something that’s still bothering you, oraffecting/preventing you from fully enjoying the series. Because of that, I cantell how serious and genuine you feel about this, so I will take this seriouslyas well.

(Below, 1800+ words)

Another thing is that it’s okay to feel this way, your personal experiences are still valid,and there’s no obligation to force your feelings otherwise, or subject yourselfto content that may be uncomfortable for you. Please continue to take all theprecautions needed (blocking/blacklisting) for an enjoyable and productivefandom experience. But understanding that even if the characters may havecoincidental similarities to our pasts, they are not direct projections of us, the people in our lives, or our realities.Their world is not ours. So this awareness is another good step to have, tobegin seeing the story (and characters) more openly, objectively and closer tohow Hori originally intended.

Since you’re willing to learn more, and as you may have already seenfrom my content here, Bakugou (Kacchan)became my definitive fav character of the series, but not for thoselingering resentments mentioned. The compelling character I see is so much morebeyond that first ch’s established baseline, which was narratively placed and designedto contrast against who he becomes later on. As a means to gauge and appreciatehis growth and the journey of how far he’s changed into becoming a proper,well-rounded, better person and inspirationalhero. The kind of emotional narrativefocus that always gains my interest and priority to see develop. Already, theperson he is now at 215+ chs is not the same as who he was at ch1 (neither ishe the flanderized, fanon stereotype many have been misled or indoctrinated tofirmly believe he is), and he will keepon developing as the story marches on. I am fully on board to witness thathappen.

The challenge now, is not letting his initial baseline impression(or the feelings from your own separate –but equally valid– experiences, oreven the vitriol from others) stain or cloud that entire slow-burn progressionof the story going forward. Otherwise the important milestones and insightsinto his character that Hori leaves along the way (which can sometimes bedifficult to see from Deku’s limited pov) end up getting obscured, ignored, oroutright rejected from an internalized feeling of ‘hatred’ that tends to blockout anything newly introduced that would challenge that preconceived perceptionof him. However, to mentally reject such change and prevent the valuedimprovement of a growing person (a learning child in his formative years, forinstance), to otherwise keep the status quo static and unmoving, to permanentlystay rooted exactly the same way as thestart…would in fact be a much more toxic/harmful mindset to have, and actuallydefeats the purpose of telling a proper story as well.

Setbacks to that challenge unfortunately include thewidespread availability of biased mistranslations (even from official sources),poor/oversimplified characterizations from non-canon content(movies/novels/merch, etc) that’s not written directly by Hori, because all thesethings just reinforce and exacerbate the problem of inflating fanon stereotypesand those preconceived notions that people have already solidified in theirminds as true (when they often aren’t). It gets even worse, and ironicallyhypocritical, when those same people start feeling justified they can go out oftheir way to attack others (includingthe author) for how to ‘properly’ enjoy and interpret the series (for beingdifferent or ‘incorrect’ from the perceptions they believe to be right). Butwhat’s happened is they’ve begun to blindly act on feelings multiple levels sofar removed from what actually is (whatexists as presented within canon, vs what they believe in fanon, vs what exists separately that may beplaguing these people’s real lives), that by then, that kind of maladjustedsocial behavior is inexcusable. Stepping back and realizing when things start crossinglines irrationally out of hand, to prevent that kind of behavior from happeningin the first place, (and again, by taking measures to block/blacklist stuff thataggravates or makes you feel uncomfortable), is the much wiser approach toparticipating and enjoying fandom. So that no matter what happens or what otherssay, they can’t impact or ruin what you love about the series.

Which in my case, includes Kacchan’s character. Basedon what Hori has consistently presented in canon, I can conclude and freely admithe’s the only character I can fully trust. Amazing, right? Because he hasabsolutely nothing to hide. Everything he does (not through his harshwords/temperament, but through his genuine actions),is extremely forthright and honest. He does not half-ass things or hide anyother ulterior motives or malicious intent beyond his dedication to become the best hero. And he takes that goal very seriously. Striving for and expectingexcellence from himself (and all themental pressure that self-imposed perfectionism brings) and others. Currently in the manga that includes Deku now too, whomhe willingly goads (showing support in his own way) and checks in on for hisprogress too.

Remember his fights in the sports tournament, how he takesall challengers with equal commitment/opportunity (gender does not matter),provided they give him their best inturn as well, because to do otherwise –to go easy on them or hold back– wouldbe disrespectful and underestimating an opponent. There’s a very just and admirablehonor in that. Remember how he can’tstand anyone looking down on him, which includes how he misinterpreted Deku’sfeelings of admiration for disdain(he could not accurately read Deku’s intentions, and became so perplexed by himthat he assumed the worst: that Deku looked down on him instead). Considering the level of seriousness and effort he alwaysputs forth, to be confronted with the opposite would be personally insulting.

Remember when the villains invited him to join their ranks(because they misread and shallowly judged his character), he stuck to his idealsand outright refused their offer.(Boldly exploding villains in the face~) Risking death over playing it safe andlying to pretend to follow along totheir whims. (How brave and badass is that?!) Kacchan does not lie, cheat theeasy way out, or do things he’s not feeling or doesn’t agree with. Again, honesty. Becoming a villain, a traitor,or betraying those who’ve earned his trust? Absolutely no chance. Afterlearning AM’s secret and finally understanding/rectifying everything that didn’tadd up about Deku, would he go behind their backs by breaking promises? No way.Again, most trustworthy character.

Rereading the story a second time over, but from his perspective, practically doubled myappreciation and enjoyment of the series. Thinking about how the foundations oftheir society impacted his world views at such a young age, to the very betrayal he must have felt thinking achildhood friend lied to him aboutsomething as important/vital as a quirk. (And if we already know how he feelsabout cheating liars…hmm, faithful loyaltynow feels like a valued trait.) Other factors include his relatable giftedchild syndrome, all the complexes born from that, and for how extremely intelligent,competent, and much more calmly calculating he is than his short temper may lead one to believe. How he was oncea ‘big fish in a small pond’, now thrust into the ocean to compete among evenother bigger fish, with the pressure to both succeed and prove himself…all whilehis previous world views are checked and challenged every step of the way.

For years he’d been valued and praised for only the promisingpotential and primary trait of his strong quirk. (The reinforcement for his badbehavior on the other hand? Not valued with the same proper attention.) Alreadythat’s an unfortunate consequence of their quirk-filled, hero-commodified society. Think of justhow shallow/fake groupies would be, or how annoying and hollow it would feel tohave people cling to him just for that (for talent and skills over his meritsas a person), and just how difficult forming genuine, natural bonds would be… (Becomingself-reliant now becomes another added pressure he has to juggle on his own.) Beforequirks had ever entered the picture and complicated things further, Deku was probablyconsidered the closest friend he had. Until…misunderstandings happened, andthen the only thing he wanted was for Deku to stay away from him. (A misconception is that Kacchan actively soughtDeku out, when it’s actually the opposite: Kacchan only reacted if Dekuencroached on him too closely.) Because he feared how Deku made him feel,forcing him to face his own shortcomings, and address perceptions of reality hedid not want to face. Because for someone he perceived as the weakest, to boldly goagainst that and do what Deku did (help him out of concern/kindness, but thatintent only read as pitying to him),made him feel even below that. And what’slower than the low of the weakest/most useless? Pretty ouch, so stop followingand stay back. Yet Deku just kept on coming back no matter what, for reasons hecouldn’t yet understand. (Deku felt genuine care and admiration for him, whichKacchan hadn’t realized, so gah, dramatic irony.) His changing feelings, correctinghis attitude, and clarifying his relationship to Deku, who continually challengesand defies his very worldview and perception of weakness, brings a whole otherfascinating draw to the series, which would take a whole other essay to fully analyze(but which many other fans have thoroughly done so already).

Further considerations include his struggles facing other relatablefeelings. How he confronts the pain and weight of experiencing loss, survivor’sguilt, and assessing powerlessness and the inability to save situations beyondhis control. Internalizing self-doubt, hatred, failure, and inferiority…because‘if only he were stronger.’ What Isee is a child overburdened by expectations and responsibilities beyond hisyears…who has to learn to process and overcome many of those same feelings I’vealready gone through and had to come to terms with growing up. (The very reasonhe’s often and endearingly referred to as a ‘son.’) The majority of adults inhis life assumed he was already ‘strong enough’ and ‘fine’ on his own, theyneglected to give him proper mental guidance going forward (AM even admitsthis). And we unfortunately see the tragic consequences of that. But fortunately,things are getting better, and Hori’s story for him still isn’t over yet.

Overall, what I see is the chance for an excellent,multi-layered, and well-written character to become even better. And that’s why his narrative is so particularly engaging. Doeshe remind me of the kids that once made certain social aspects of grade schoolinsufferable? No, because that’s not who he is; he’s so far removed and beyond them, that they’ve become extras whono longer matter anymore. Instead of lingering on such negatives, it’s insteadthe positive aspects about him that shine through even stronger. The fact heisn’t perfect, but deeply flawed and learning to address his shortcomings in nowmore productive ways. This progression and growth makes him interesting, and combinedwith the many other traits I’ve mentioned above, favored and loved bymany. Although ultimately I can’t change your opinion about him (that’s stillup to you to decide, and it’s ok to still dislike characters), hopefully I’veintroduced new ways of perceiving and appreciating his character for you. Tohelp see some of the positives that Deku always valued in him as a drivingsource of inspiration too: to strive hard despite life’s setbacks, and win. ‘He may be a jerk, but he’s amazing.’

#pomrania #replies #bnha #kacchan #meta #manga spoilers #long post #speaking from the perspective of him as my fav #hopefully this sheds some new light #(and i think i covered everything i wanted to say)#this is also why i mentioned before that the message of mp100’s mogami arc is important #and what i mean when i say minori’s ‘imcomparable levels of cruelty’#because kacchan is definitely not that #but the ability to change; grow; and forgive even the worst of who people used to be #is multitudes more valuable; stronger; and daresay heroic #than regressing into a hateful vestige of a non-functioning human like mogami #that kind of message still rings true here #the fact deku still cares despite seeing the worst from him is testament to how genuine his feelings are for him too #so instead of focusing on the worst...here i explain those cherished positives too

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khadij-al-kubra · 6 years

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I’m Still Here (a songfic oneshot)

Pairing: None (maybe Moxiety if you squint)

Characters: (Human AU) Virgil, Logan, Patton, Roman, Dr. Picani, Duncan (Deceit), Jamal, Dariana, Alma (OC)

Warnings: mentions of considered suicide, self hate, abandonment

Summary: A year ago, Vigil couldn’t have imagined himself being alive, let alone accepted as he was and happy. But here we was, and on the anniversary of the day he decided to start truly living, he plans to show it to his little corner of the world.

Author’s Note: Hey friends! I’ve had this idea in mind for a while and really just wanted to get it out there. I’ve always loved the film Treasure Planet and the main song from it, but it wasn’t until recently when I heard the song again that I realized it could tell another kind of story. I tried to do as much justice as possible but I am not myself trans or part of the lgbt community. So if I got anything wrong or could’ve done anything better please let me know. As always feel free to leave a comment in the messages or reply if you have any notes or constructive critiques. I’m always open to writing advice. Enjoy!

AO3

Knowing who you are and coming to terms with it is one thing. Actually getting to be who you truly are without fear and loving yourself is a whole other, much harder thing. As far back as he could remember Virgil had always known two things about himself with absolute intuitive certainty: that he was an anxious mess and that he was a boy. Even without being consciously aware of what gender was specifically, he always felt that way on the inside. It wasn’t until he was five or six and his mom kept forcing him to wear too tight pigtails and poofy dresses that he realized the rest of the world didn’t see him that way; that his outside didn’t match the inside. He hated it and himself.

As he got older he allowed himself small acts of defiance. He insisted on wearing pants when he could and cut his long black hair short. He always insisted on people calling him ‘V’ instead of ‘Victoria.’ His parents weren’t trilled about their child being an introverted sarcastic tomboy that played guitar all day instead of a polite, sweet, studious young lady, but they still loved him. Or rather, they loved Victoria. Virgil learned to hide who he really was, got good at keeping quiet and playing the part as long as it kept his parents happy and himself safe. It was a miserable time in his life. He hated his body, hated his mind, and hated himself; that he longed to have the simple luxury of being his true self, knowing it was impossible. One day, Virgil decided he didn’t want to live this way anymore.

That had been two years ago.

“Yo, Virgil! You still with us man?” Jamal asked, breaking Virgil out of his thoughts.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry ‘bout that dude,” he said to the keyboard player.

“No worries. You just don’t usually get all spaced out like that during rehearsals.”

“Guess I’m trying to channel my inner Ziggy Stardust,” Virgil said, smirking at his band mate.

“That’s not exactly our usual sound,” said their drummer Dariana. She was sitting in Jamal’s lap, lightly scratching the back of her boyfriend’s fro. “But hey, I guess it kind of works for this particular song.”

“Just make sure your head stays in the music,” Duncan droned as he adjusted the strings on his bass. “After all, you’re the one who insisted we do a cover of this song for the talent show instead of one of our own songs. Or begged is more like it.”

“Easy Duncan,” Jamal warned the other musician. “I’d like to get through one rehearsal without you two going at each other.”

“I’m just saying the talent show is this Friday. If our fearless leader is going to make us learn a whole new song in so short a time,” Duncan threw daggers at Virgil with his brown and green eyes, “the least he can do is stay focused during rehearsal.”

Virgil fought the urge to hiss at the Nirvana t-shirt clad teen. The guy was a sarcastic snake in the grass at times, but there was no denying his musical skills. He was an important part of the band, so he tried to keep the peace most days. And to be fair, he wasn’t wrong in this instance. Virgil has been so adamant for them all to learn this song in time for the school talent show. The least he could do was put 110% of his focus into practice.

“Yeah, yeah. I gotcha. No more daydreaming ‘till we’re done.” Virgil promised.

“And hey! We’ve nearly got it finished,” said Dariana as she returned to her drum set. “And it’s only taken, what, three hours?”

Virgil smirked at her subtle call-out to him. He knew she was tired, as was he. Still, his anxiety at possibly being off key or hitting a sour note the night of the show made him push them all to practice even more than usual. This performance was too important to him.

“Alright, let’s pick it back up from the bridge, run through the song two more times and then we’ll call it quits.” said Virgil.

“After we do our ritual for good luck,” Jamal said. “It is the night of the full moon. Gotta get as much of that good energy as we can from Gaia.”

“Of course,” said Virgil. He already had the three spell candles, quarts and incense in his backpack. “Can’t forget that.”

He waited for Dariana to count them in. She clicked her drumsticks together, “One-two-three-four!”

Virgil lost himself in the music as he always did, giving his band mates full attention. After the four Wiccan teens completed the small ceremony they went their separate ways. Well, save for Duncan, since their rehearsal space was in his garage. Yet another reason Virgil tried to keep things civil with him. It wasn’t his fault their personalities clashed harder than a cymbal.

On the long bus ride to the apartment he now called home, Virgil put on his large headphones to block out the rest of the world. It was the easiest ways to relax and not let the anxiety of being in a crowded public vehicle overwhelm him. As the music played and the streets passed him by outside the window, Virgil found himself looking back on where he’d started. He almost couldn’t believe it sometimes. Two years…Two years since the night he wanted to end his life and the same night where a chance encounter had convinced him not to…

…That night Virgil had waited till his parents were fast asleep. Not that he thought they’d miss him (he was never the daughter they wanted him to be) but still, he wanted to spare them the unpleasant sight. Sometime between the witching our and 3am he snuck out the bedroom window and made his long walk to the high wooded hill on the borderline of their small town. He didn’t go there anymore, but at the time that had been Virgil’s safe retreat where he could go to think or cry. He and the occasional summer potheads only ever occupied it. It had been a crisp autumn night and the stars were in their full radiant splendor. He’d at least wanted something beautiful to see in his last moments on Earth.

When he got the top of the hill, the last thing he’d expected to find was someone else already there. It was some guy around his age, and he had been sitting just a few feet away from the cliff’s edge. In all honesty, at the time, Virgil was both surprised and thoroughly pissed. He had been trying to avoid witnesses. Virgil must have stepped on a branch or something, because suddenly the guy was alerted to his presence. When he turned around Virgil froze. Even with only the light of the half moon he recognized the dark hair, piercing blue eyes and glasses. It was a classmate of his from school. Since he was still just a freshman Virgil had never plucked up the courage to talk to him, or anyone else really for that matter. Plus the guy always seemed to be stuck nose deep in his studies. Yet there seemed to be a look of recognition in the others’ face.

“Good evening,” he said, like some figure straight out of a gothic novel.

“Uh…hey,” said Virgil. He pulled up the hood of his purple sweater.

“I hadn’t expected anyone else to be out here tonight, let alone know about this spot,” the guy said, pushing up his glasses. He didn’t seem annoyed however. If anything he sounded curious, yet there was something soothing about his deep voice. “Would you like to join me?”

Virgil watched him pat the spot next to him. It would’ve looked weird if he refused, since he clearly came up there with a purpose. So Virgil opted to sit down for the time being. Besides, given how late it was, the guy was bound to leave at some point.

“You’re in my chemistry class, right?” he asked.

“Uh, yeah,” said Virgil.

“I thought so. Yet I don’t believe we’ve ever properly spoken before. I’m Logan Sanders. And you are?”

Virgil looked down at the held out hand. How could a guy come off as so formal yet open at the same time? Not wanting to be rude, Virgil took his hand, cold from the night air.

“I’m Vic—“ He gulped. Well, if this was gonna be his last night, might as well let himself be honest for once. What’s he have to lose? “…Virgil. Virgil Yang”

Logan didn’t let go or look at him in disgust, but his eyebrows did shoot up. Virgil pulled his hand back, not aware of the softening look on Logan’s face.

“Ah. I see. Well then, pleasure to make your acquaintance, Virgil.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I don’t look and sound like a typical guy—“

“Perhaps your biology may not match your gender. However that doesn’t negate how you perceive yourself to be on a soul level. If you say you are a boy, which I assume so given the masculine name, unless you are non-binary, then frankly it’s no right of mine to refute it,” Logan said matter-of-factly.

There were a lot of words there, a few of which had confused Virgil at the time. But the basic gist he gleaned was that he had been honest about who he was, and instead of receiving disgust or hatred, Logan had taken it in stride. No one had ever treated Virgil that way before.

“I’m a guy.” It felt like such a stupid response, but saying it out loud had felt like a boulder being tossed off his chest.

“Well then there it is.” said Logan with a small smile.

Virgil swallowed the lump in his throat. “Y-yeah I guess…Thanks.”

“Of course. So I realize this is none of my business, but out of curiosity might I ask what brings you up here tonight?”

Jeez, he really did speak too old for someone his age. “I should be asking you the same thing.”

Classic deflective technique. Logan scrutinized him but didn’t press. In his eyes, there was almost a silent yet pained understanding.

“Fair enough. I happen to enjoy coming out here from time to time to look at the stars and wait to make my pre-dawn prayers. It’s quite relaxing to do so in nature, especially before the weather becomes too cold.”

“Pre-dawn prayers?” Virgil asked.

“Indeed. My faith requires Muslims like me, although mind you I am only a recent convert, to perform five daily prayers so as to facilitate a constant mindfulness of God in our daily lives,” Logan explained.

“No offense but I wouldn’t have pegged you as the religious type. Not that I’m judging or anything!” Virgil added quickly. “I mean, it’s not something I vibe on myself, but if it’s your thing, that cool I guess. You just seem all scientific and logical and stuff.”

“Valid assumption, but false. On the contrary, it is possible for science and spirituality to go hand in hand, so to speak. After all, science is the study of the structure and behavior of the physical world around us, even to the unseen subatomic level, and adequately submitting to it. And what is faith other than the study of and submission to an unseen divine force greater that oneself?” Virgil caught the gleam of excitement in Logan’s eyes as he spoke. “Additionally, some of the greatest scientific minds emerged from the Islamic world. For example, did you know that one of the greatest astronomers in history was a Muslim?”

Virgil perked up at that part. “Astronomy?”

When he told Logan that astronomy was his all time favorite subject, the guy went into full-on nerd mode. They started talking about their favorite constellations and the stories behind them. Logan talked about his favorite astronomers and Virgil listened with wrapped interest, captivated by the other’s enthusiasm. Somehow this led to Logan telling Virgil about his theories on how God was actually a They/Them/Their and not an all powerful cis-white He or even a She since God was beyond the human concepts of gender, race, or sexuality. It was so out there and beyond anything Virgil had ever been exposed to, yet it was just so damn wild and interesting to listen to Logan ramble on about it. The more they talked the less Virgil thought about the reason why he’d gone up there in the first place.

Even when Logan stopped to pray, using the small rug he’d brought with him, Virgil didn’t move from his spot. He watched Logan pray or looked back up at the stars. They really had been beautiful that night. Not even that, however, compared to the otherworldly beauty of when the sun finally started to rise. It wasn’t like Virgil had never seen a sunrise before, but something about that one was different. Like the volume on the world around him was turned up yet there was a comfortable silence to it all as well. It broke the walls inside of Virgil’s heart and released the toxic black flood that had been swelling up inside of him for years.

When Logan, having been long done with his prayers, saw Virgil cry he didn’t say anything. Didn’t try to cheer him up or pull back in confused discomfort. Instead he placed a still yet gentle hand on Virgil’s shoulder and sat with him until he’d cried himself out. Even after Virgil calmed down Logan didn’t try to get him to open up about why he’d suddenly started sobbing. Instead he only asked if Virgil felt better. He had. Then Logan offered him a ride back to town on the back of his bike. To his surprise, Virgil took up the offer. He no longer felt as tired as he had on the climb up, but he had felt physically exhausted. He longed for his bed and a good breakfast of rice and eggs with some kimchi. Virgil had taken one last look at the cliff before following Logan down the hill. He could always try again if he needed to, he had reasoned. Death wasn’t going anywhere.

It was because of that one chance encounter that he’d lived to see another day, and more to come.

After that night on the cliff Logan started to talk to him more at school. As nervous as he was at first, Virgil slowly allowed the logical nerd into his small world. They sat together at lunch in comfortable silence, or occasionally got into debates that were admittedly pretty fun. They were both freshman so they had a lot of the same classes. They’d hang out in the library after school or do homework at Logan’s house where his mom would invite Virgil to stay for dinner. Sometimes when Virgil was having a panic attack Logan would be able to help calm him down. They never brought up the cliff again, yet Virgil knew without asking that –if he wanted him to–Logan would be there to listen. One day Logan suggested, albeit in his straightforward way, that Virgil join him at the school’s LGBTQ Club meetings after school. That was also the day Virgil learned his Muslim friend was Bi. The club was also where Virgil would meet his other soon to be two best friends, Patton (the pansexual club president) and Roman (the gayer than the Yule Tide vice president).

It was because of Logan that he’d found a community and his first real friends.

The more Virgil went to the LGBTQ Club meetings, the more he got to understand the part of his identity that he’d tried to hide away for so long. Virgil was especially drawn to Patton, who’d been the first to welcome Virgil with open arms. Not only was the guy super frigging cute (not that he’d ever admit it out loud) but also the curly haired freckle faced boy was so incredibly warmhearted! Everything about him radiated comfort and kindness and understanding. Perhaps it was because he’d been born blind, but Patton had a way of seeing people (a pun the guy used way too often) for who they were beneath the surface. He slowly got Virgil to open up more about his parents and himself. Patton was an ever-patient listener. The practicing Buddhist had even started teaching Virgil meditation as a way to help calm his thunderstorm mind, and it did help. Later on Patton convinced Virgil to talk wit his father, who also happened to be the school’s guidance councilor, to see if maybe he could help with some of the things he had been dealing with for so long on his own.

It was because of Patton that he’d found hope.

Roman had taken longer to warm up to, since there were both so similar and different at the same time. However, once they got past the snarky banter and discovered a mutual love of Disney and Sondheim, they’d become great friends. When he officially came out as FtM transgender, Roman had been his biggest supporter. Anytime some idiots gave him a hard time in school or threatened him, Roman was there to defend him and tell the others off. He’d convinced his parents to let Virgil stay at his house the first week after being kicked out. Granted, Roman hadn’t told his Sephardic Jewish parents why his skinny goyim friend from school needed a place to stay (he wasn’t exactly ‘out’ at home yet), but they didn’t press. All they knew was that their son’s friend needed help and lots of big meals. So they welcomed Virgil until he’d found a more permanent place to stay. After that, Roman and Virgil had become brothers. Later on the actor introduced him to other musicians, artists, books and plays that were all LGBT centric in an attempt to help him through his trans journey. (“It’s important to keep up with fellow gay icons, especially when you plan to be the next NPH.”) For the first time Virgil saw himself in other’s, saw that he wasn’t alone. He began to think that, hey, if other people made it through okay –had even made an impact in people’s lives– maybe he could too.

It was because of Roman that he’d found his self worth.

Once the drama king had learned of Virgil’s interests and talent in music, he convinced him to be part of the band for the school’s musical. That was where he’d met Jamal, Dariana and Duncan. After learning they all shared a love of punk rock music and were each practicing wiccans, the four teens decided to form their own band. Of course Virgil had been nervous at first and never failed to get stage fright before performing. Yet whenever he got up behind a microphone, guitar in hand and started to sing, he felt a strange sense of calm. When he performed, Virgil couldn’t be anywhere else but in the now and he loved that. On top of that, because he had not only a good voice but also a fairly low one for someone of his, uh, biology, he passed easier as a boy in the audiences’ eyes. Over time the Children of Hecate found their sound and became local favorites. Sure they’d only played at school dances and local open mic nights, but it was a start. This one guy Remy who owned a coffee shop down town even paid them to perform twice a month to get in a younger crowd.

It was because of their band that he’d found his voice…

…The shuddering jerk of the bus shook Vigil from his memories. Good thing too, or else he would’ve missed his stop. Really gotta work on not zoning out on public transportation. The last thing he wanted was to end up in some part of town that wasn’t familiar. His nerves would never survive.

The apartment was only a block away form the bus stop. He climbed up the stairs (elevators freaked him out too much), got to the door, took out his spare key and went inside kicking off his boots. The smell of garlic pasta and cookies welcomed him, as did the sound of jazzy Studio Ghibli music renditions. The Picani household never ceased to be a warm and inviting safe haven for him.

“I’m home,” Virgil called out.

“Hiya Virgil!” Patton said, popping his head out from the kitchen.

Virgil noticed he was wearing an apron. Must’ve been helping his Ren out in the kitchen again. It always made Virgil nervous thinking about Patton being in the kitchen when he couldn’t properly see the appliances or the stove. Yet Patton insisted, and admittedly has proven, that he’s perfectly capable of cooking so long as someone else is with him.

“Hey Patton. I’m at the door,” said Virgil, letting the other boy follow his voice.

Patton didn’t need his cane when at home, and he maneuvered around the apartment like a pro. He reached out to Virgil and enveloped the young musician in a big hug.

“How was band practice?” asked Patton when they broke apart.

“Went pretty well. The song’s coming along good and Duncan and me only snapped at each other once. New record.”

“Helloooo nurse!” Shouted Dr. Emile Picani as he popped in from down the hall in all his pink haired glory. “Glad to see ya got home safe Virgil.”

“That makes two of us Doc,” he said.

Virgil set his bag and guitar case down before letting himself be caught in a big hug from the school guidance counselor. Even his hugs were as animated as the cartoons he loved.

“Did I hear you two talking about that new song you’re planning for the talent show? I hope it’s the Disney one you were obsessed with a while back?”

It had been sometime last month when Virgil, Patton and Picani had sat down for one of their Disney movie marathons. They’d put on Treasure Planet, which until then Virgil had never seen. Not only did he love the protagonist, story, and animation, but also the song just spoke to him. Even though the lyrics weren’t about the struggles he’d gone through necessarily, they still spoke to Virgil on a personal level. He’d listened to it on repeat for weeks. That’s how he got the idea to sing it with his band for the talent show after he found out the date.

“Yep. The very same.”

“Exellent,” said Picani in a semi-good Stewie Griffin voice. “Such a great song from a highly underrated movie. I mean seriously, it’s about pirates in SPACE! HOW is that not more popular?!”

“Oh dear,” said a bright voice from the kitchen. “When my partner starts going on a Disney rant is when I come to the rescue.”

Patton’s Ren came out of the kitchen, wiping their hands with a dishrag. Virgil squinted to see the pronouns necklace they wore. Today was a ‘she’ day. As much as she teased the grown man about his cartoon obsessions she really was no better. The long blue winter skirt, black legging and white cashmere sweater she wore made her look practically like Belle incarnate. Save for the cropped curly blonde hair that Patton shared.

“Hello Vigil, welcome back,” she said, pulling him gently into a hug.

“Hey Alma,” said Virgil, returning the embrace. The Picanis were the only people that Virgil let hug him. “Dinner smells great.”

“Thank you! Should be ready soon. If you could help me set the table after you wash up I’d really appreciate it.”

“No problem,” he said. Helping out was the absolute least Virgil could do.

“Oh I can’t wait to hear your band play this Friday!” Alma said. “I’ve got the perfect suit to wear for your special night and everything. Even found myself a nice galaxy tie to go along with your space song’s theme.”

“I’m sure you’ll look killer Alma.”

“Don’t forget, Roman’s gonna be in it too,” said Patton. “We’ve gotta show him our love and support also.”

“Well now that goes without saying sweetheart.”

Suddenly Patton started sniffing the air. “Uhh Renny, did the timer go off? ‘Cause I smell smoke.”

“My cookies!” She rushed back to the kitchen. Virgil, Patton and Picani barely held back their giggles.

Virgil really owed the Picanis more than he’d ever be able to repay. When Patton finally convinced Virgil to start seeing his dad for counseling about his anxiety issues, it opened up a new door for him. The hilarious, fun loving, yet surprisingly wise Dr. Emile Picani had given Virgil tools to help manage his mental health issues. Not only that but over time he gave him even more. His office became a safe haven when he had panic attacks or just needed quiet. Picani got Virgil to open up more about his sexuality and body dysmorphia after revealing he was non-binairy (although he tended to favor he/they pronouns). Pretty soon Virgil saw the man as a second father figure. After Patton had told his dad about how Virgil’s parents kicked him out and he was temporarily staying with Roman, Picani immediately told Virgil to pack his things and that he was more than welcome to stay with them. No room for arguments. His partner had been equally as welcoming to Virgil after hearing his story. She even went out and bought Virgil his first binder for his birthday. The Picanis went the extra mile to researched ways for him to get testosterone shots after he revealed he wanted to start transitioning. They gave him a roof, food, comfort, and a place of belonging.

It was because of them that he’d found his freedom.

They spent dinner with the usual boisterous chatter and laughter, Virgil chipping in with his own quieter comments every now and then. Afterwards he and Patton cleaned up and worked on homework together. Then they watched cartoons with Picani before Alma told them to get to bed. All three of them. They whined but did as they were told.

Virgil lay on his futon and stared up at the ceiling thinking. In just a few days it will have been a year since Virgil came out. A year since he started transitioning; now he was more than halfway through the treatments. A year that he found himself happier than he ever would’ve dreampt possible. He fell asleep repeating one thought in his mind like a prayer...I’m Still Here…

* * * * *

The next day at school went by as usual. Virgil and Patton got a ride there with Picani, Virgil tried to stay awake during his first two periods, and Logan nudged him awake during third and fourth period classes. To all of their delight Logan, Roman, Patton and him shared the same lunch period this year, so the four juniors sat at their usual table. Logan and Roman got into some debate or other, Virgil sat back to enjoy the show, and Patton threw in a couple of puns while also reminding Virgil to actually eat his lunch. Then they split up and Virgil went to spend his free period with Picani in the councilors office. Afterwards he spent the last two classes with Roman. All in all, it was a pretty solid day. That is, until the last bell rang.

“Oh come on! Okay, I’ll admit you have a point about the dark undertones of Sleeping Beauty and Peter Pan and Snow White, but it can’t be possible for ALL of the Disney films to have sinister hidden messages.” Roman said, slamming his locker next to Virgil’s for emphasis.

“Come on Pricy, have you ever read the original fairy tales those movies are based off of?” Virgil asked as they walked down the hall. “It’s some seriously dark shit!”

“I’m telling Patton you said a bad word,” Roman said in a teasing sing-song tone, dramatically draping his red letterman jacked over one shoulder.

“Don’t you dare rat on me to Patton.” Virgil gave his best black eye-lined glare.

“Aww what’s the matter chemically imbalanced romance, afraid of getting on his bad side?” Roman teasingly ruffled Virgils purple dyed hair, knowing he hated it.

“If he even has one,” Virgil muttered, smiling softly at the thought of his sweet and wholesome friend.

“You know Virgil, one of these days you’re really going to have to tell Patton that you like—“

Roman shut up suddenly. Virgil was grateful for it, because Patton and Logan were both coming their way from the opposite hall. Logan’s black and blue flannel clad arms were loaded with three our four books and Patton was tapping his walking cane along the hall.

“Uh-oh! Guess you’d better start calling me Beetlejuice, ‘cause I swear I heard my name three times,” Patton beamed. “Hi Roman! Hi Virgil!”

“Salutations again you two,” said Logan.

“Hey guys.”

“’Sup?”

“Did we interrupt your conversation?” asked Logan.

“Nah, just the usual banter,” said Roman.

The four of them walked out the school together, talking about nothing and everything at the same time. The leaves had already turned a multitude of red and orange colors. There was a slight chill in the wind that felt sharp in Virgil’s lungs every time he breathed. He was grateful for his usual attire of skinny jeans and his favorite hoodie.

“Jeepers, I’m gonna make myself a nice hot chocolate when I get home,” said Patton to Virgil. “My knees are freezing!”

“I told you it was too cold for a skirt today Pat,” said Virgil.

As usual Patton was clad in one of his soft slightly oversized sweaters. However, instead of his usual jeans, that morning he’d opted for one of the knee length skirts he occasionally wore. Ordinarily Virgil enjoyed seeing Patton in a skirt every now and then (even if it did make his gay brain short circuit), but this time around it was definitely not weather appropriate and he was worried about Patton catching a cold.

“Well it was pretty warm this morning, and I really felt like wearing something cute and comfy that I could twirl in,” said Patton. “I didn’t think it’d get so cold.”

“On the contrary Patton, it shouldn’t be all that surprising given that it is currently 53 degrees out and mid-October,” said Logan, adjusting his glasses.

“Sheesh Logan, you can’t ever let me skirt around a subject, can you?” They all laughed save for Logan, who groaned at all of Patton’s puns.

“I keep telling you, listen to the weather reports the night before,” Roman said.

“I guess, but why bother when it’s easier to just stick my head out the window every morning?” asked Patton.

“Because that’s how you end up with cold knee caps,” said Virgil.

They all laughed good-naturedly at that. Patton tried to pout but he could never keep from smiling very long and laughed along with them. Virgil soaked up every second of it, never letting himself forget just how close he’d come to missing out on moments like these. He smiled at his best friends.

“You’ve been in a rather good mood today Virgil,” said Logan.

“Yes, I noticed that too,” said Roman. “Far less brooding than usual.”

“Guess I’m just looking forward to this Friday,” he shrugged.

“Ah yes, the talent show! I myself shall be performing in it as well,” said Roman. “I plan to do a dramatic reenactment of Lewis Caroll’s brilliant poem The Jabberwocky. It shall be epic!”

“I’m sure it will,” Logan said, rolling his eyes. Virgil snickered.

“And of course I’ll be back in the audience in time to see you and the other Children of Hecate perfume Virgil.“

“As will I.”

“Yep! I can’t wait. Dad and Renny are gonna be coming too don’t forget. So save us some seats.”

“Will do Pat.”

“Speaking of performances, I’d better get home so I’ll have time to practice before my mom and nana rope me into helping her cook again,” said Roman.

“Hey tell Nana Reina I said ‘hi’. Oh, and that I miss her cooking,” said Virgil.

“Will do. Farewell friends,” said Roman, heading towards the buses.

“Speaking of parental units, I’d better be going,” said Logan. “My father should be here to pick me up soon. He’s promised to take me to the planetarium after school before he leaves for his business trip. Farewell.”

“Bye Lo!”

“Later.”

Virgil was happy to see his nerdy friend so excited, but the mention of quality bonding time with a parent made him cringe. When was the last time he’d ever had quality time with his own parents, even before that painful night.

He only came out to him because the LGBT Club and sessions with Picani had filled him with foolish courage and hope. After all, they were his parents and loved him. They’d never been unkind or strict unless it came to school. He didn’t expect they would understand, but maybe they would still accept him. How wrong he had been.

Not only had his parents looked at him like a stranger, like a thing, but his dad told Virgil he’d have five minutes to pack his things and leave. That Virgil was no child of his. Virgil could still remember tasting his own salty tears and the stone-cold tight-lipped glare on his father’s face. His mother hadn’t said anything against Virgil; she hadn’t said anything. But she didn’t defend Virgil or stand up to his dad either. Only looked at him with confusion and disappointment. That was enough. Did they even ever miss him? Of course not. They hate you, otherwise they would’ve invited you back home a long time ago. Virgil sighed, knowing that the thoughts in his head were probably right this time.

“You okay Virge?” asked Patton, his brow creased with worry.

“Yeah Pat. Stellar. Come on, let me walk you to the car. Your dad’s probably waiting for you there,” said Virgil, gently holding the other’s elbow.

“Aww that’s sweet of you Virgil, but don’t you have to get to band practice?”

“I’ve got a few minutes to spare.”

They walked to the parking lot together in comfortable silence. That is, until Patton spoke up again.

“Alright kiddo, what’s really eating at you? And I know something is. I hear you sighing,” said Patton.

Virgil sighed. “I can’t hide anything from you, can I?”

“I might not be able to tell when your lying the way Toph can with her feet, but I’m not as blind to you as you think.“

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Ugh. You’ve been hanging around your dad too much.”

Patton giggled, but then grew somber. “Seriously though Virgil, what’s wrong? Is it about your parents?”

Virgil stopped in shock, nearly tripping up Patton. He turned to his friend, looking into his light milky blue eyes. “H-how did you—“

“I heard you sigh the first time after Roman and Logan started talking about their families. And I know Friday is the anniversary of the day you came out to them. Wasn’t hard to piece together after that.” Patton gently reached for Virgil’s hand and gave a squeeze. “Are you still thinking about inviting them?”

Virgil let out a groan/sigh combo. He immediately regretted telling Patton about that. It had been the briefest of thoughts. It was weird and painful because, as much as he never wanted to see his parents again, Virgil also missed them. They were his family after all. And he thought, maybe if they came they would change their minds. Or at the very least he could spite them. But two weeks had gone by since telling Patton about that and Virgil still hadn’t emailed either of them an invite.

“I don’t know Patton. Maybe it’s a bad idea. It was stupid of me to want…”

“I understand Virgil. I know that they hurt you, and I’ll be honest…I hate them for that.” That caught Virgil by surprise. “But even so, I know you still miss them. I hear you crying for them in your sleep sometimes down the hall. So maybe…maybe at least extending the olive branch would do you some good. Give you some peace of mind again.”

“Maybe you’re right. But I just…don’t know if I can forgive them. They don’t deserve it.”

He turned and saw Patton giving him a pained look of sorrow. He was guiltily glad that his best friend couldn’t see him cringing beneath that look.

“Maybe not,” Patton said after a moment. “But you do.”

A staccato car horn oddly in the melody of the Spongebob theme song sounded from a distance. They both turned to the source. No surprise, Virgil saw it coming from a volxwagon. Picani waved to them from the window.

Patton sighed loudly. “That’s my dad. We’ll see you at home later. Well, they’ll see you at home. I’ll hear you. You gonna be okay?”

“Yeah, i’ll be fine. See you Pat,” said Virgil.

Patton gave him one last hug before heading off. His dad met him halfway and guided him to the car, helping him fold up the cane and buckle up. Virgil watched them drive away. Then he pulled on his headphones and blared the Treasure Planet theme song before going to meet Jamal, Dariana and Duncan at the bus stop. He needed to escape into some music.

Rehearsals went really well. Virgil was actually feeling pretty confident, and they still had two more nights left to rehears. On the bus ride back home however his mind circled back to what Patton had said. Forgive them for yourself… Maybe it was the healthier way to go but honestly, Virgil didn’t want that. He wanted to stay angry and bitter because that kept the sadness at bay. Or at least covered it up. It hurt to still feel that way and, frankly, he didn’t know if he was strong enough to forgive his parents even if he wanted to. Let alone send them an invite. It was easier just to stay bitter and angry. Virgil spent the rest of the bus ride doing his meditative breathing exercises. The last thing he needed was a panic attack in public.

When Virgil got back to the apartment after practice he was met with the usual welcoming arms. He didn’t join Patton and Picani in the tv room for cartoons, insisting he had a headache. Alma seemed like they’d wanted to talk to Virgil, but ultimately gave the teen his space. Virgil went to the rooftop with his backpack, hoping to distract himself with schoolwork. No luck there. He tossed the notebooks aside (he could get the notes he needed from Logan the next morning) and instead opted to give reading a chance to take his mind off things. He pulled out the worn out copy of Angles in America that Roman had let him borrow. He was nearly through Peretroika and it was getting good. But when he got to a line by the drag queen Belize he paused. Virgil sat up straight and re-read the lines about nine times. Then on the tenth, he read them aloud:

“’He was a terrible person. He died a hard death. So maybe…A queen can forgive her vanquished foe. It isn’t easy. It…It doesn’t count if its easy…It’s the hardest thing.” Virgil swallowed the lump in his throat before reading on. “Forgiveness. Which is maybe where love and justice finally meet. Peace, at least…”

He just sat there staring at the words on those yellowing pages, all to aware of his own breathing. Virgil may not have believed in some singular all-powerful God like Logan did, but he sure as hell believed in signs. After several long moments Virgil’s jaw set firm. He grabbed his things, went back downstairs to the Picani’s family computer, and typed out the hardest email of his life.

* * * * *

Friday rolled around and with it came the night of the high school’s talent show. Big surprise, Virgil was really anxious. Even the band’s pre-show ritual and meditation with lavender incense hadn’t helped to steady his nerves. They were dressed in their usual all black attire for performances but Virgil had kept his purple hoodie wrapped around the waist. He was fidgeting with the sleeves so much his fingers were starting to hurt.

“Virgil, relax! That pacing is making me dizzy,” said Dariana as she fiddled with the small crystals braided into her afro.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m just—“

“Nervous,” said Jamal as he checked that their equipment was ready to go. They were the last act but the musician liked to be prepared. “We know. You always get like this before a gig, and we always kick ass anyway.”

“Yeah, and it’s not like we haven’t been rehearsing for weeks,” said Duncan. Yet even he cast the emo guitarist a sympathetic glance. “We’re bound to at least not suck.”

Virgil took a deep breath. “Thanks Duncan.”

“Whatever.”

It wasn’t just the usual pre-show nerves this time though. Virgil had done the unthinkable. He actually invited his parents to the show tonight. He honestly hadn’t expected them to show up (that had been his one consoling thought) but low and behold, he saw them in the audience from backstage. At least, he was pretty certain it was them. There weren’t exactly a lot of Korean parents in the audience, so who else could it have been? His mom had been shifting nervously in her seat, and beside her was his dad. Arms crossed and stone faced, yet there seemed to be hints of annoyance that shone through the chips in his armor. Yeah, not exactly thrilled about this either dad, Virgil thought bitterly. Still…they’d come.

As had the Picanis and Logan. They were all sitting together in the audience. Logan was reading through the cheaply printed playbill, Patton has his head slightly bowed so he could better listen to the different performances, and both the Doc and Alma had their eyes glued to the students on stage. It was as though they were proud parents of every one of those kids even if they weren’t their own. He could only imagine how they’d be when it was his turn. It warmed Virgil’s heart and made him smile for the first time all day.

Virgil was just finishing tuning his guitar when he heard applause from behind the curtain. Guess they really liked Roman’s enactment of that poem after all. To be fair, the guy was a gold star performer. Virgil had caught glimpses of it from backstage and it honestly was a pretty cool show.

“Children of Hecate, your on deck,” said a kid with a clipboard and wearing a Steven Universe t-shirt.

Roman burst through the curtain and came straight to Virgil. “Virgil! Did you see that? I had the crowed eating out of the palm of my hands.”

“Great job Roman. Seriously,” he said.

Roman’s smile faltered when he saw how nervous the rock musician looked. He placed a firm yet warm hand on Virgil’s shoulder.

“Hey, don’t sweat it Virge. You’re going to do great! I know it.”

Virgil smirked and clapped him on the back. “Thanks man.”

“I’m going to head into the audience. Hopefully Logan saved he a seat. Break a leg!”

He watched Roman go and then went back to his breathing exercises. The next act went by but was cut short when the kid tripped on his own juggling balls. At least whatever we do won’t be worse then that. Finally, they were up.

“Alright guys, gals, and non-binary pals,” said the kid from backstage.

Virgil saw his dad cringing at that line. Screw you too.

“Here is your final act of the night. Give it up for Virgil, Duncan, Dariana, and Jamal; a.k.a. the Children of Hecate!!!”

The younger audience members who’d seen them perform before gave the loudest cheer (Roman was loudest of all). The other adults and strangers gave a polite applause. Virgil’s parents hadn’t even bothered with more than two or three stiff claps. Virgil stepped up to the mic and took a shaky breath. He did a test strum letting the strings vibrations ground him. You got this Virge. Remember why you’re here. Do it for you. He took one last breath before signaling Dariana to count them in.

Then, they played. The drums were like a steady grounding heartbeat, the rhythm of the base like a pulsing metronome in his mind, and the keyboards flowing melodies like the blood in his veins. His own guitar strings felt like thick blades of grass against his calloused fingertips, their music gently rooting him in the moment. When they played through the intro Virgil got close to the microphone and sang.

“I am a question to the world

Not an answer to be heard

Or a moment

that’s held in your arms.

And what

do you think you’d ever say?

I won’t listen anyway.

You don’t know me

and I’ll never be what you want

me to be.”

Virgil’s anxiety faded away into the music. He felt the vibrations coming off the state through his boots. Could hear his fellow band mates getting caught up in the swing of the performance, just as they always did. The muse of music was certainly with them all tonight.

“And what

do you think you’d understand?

I’m a girl, no, I’m a man!”

Virgil thumped his chest in emphasis on this line. It took a lot for him to make that small change to the lyric, but he was glad he’d decided to after all.

For the next part of the verse, Virgil looks directly at his parents. He pours all the hurt and betrayal built up over the past two years into the next lines.

“You can’t take me

and throw me away.” His dad’s face remains stony as ever, but Virgil catches his mom’s wince.

“And how

can you learn what’s never shown?

Yeah, you stand here on your own.

They don’t know me

‘Cause I’m not here.”

Virgil couldn’t bear to look at their faces anymore. So, he turned back to the audience as a whole, losing himself in the music.

“And I want a moment to be real.

Wanna touch things I don’t feel.

Wanna hold on

and feel I belong.

And how

can the world want me to change?

There the ones that stay the same.

They don’t know me

‘cause I’m not here.”

He turned towards where Roman, Logan, Patton Dr. Picani and his partner were sitting in the audience. Virgil knew the blind boy couldn’t see him, but he hoped that his friends could still feel him through the music. Moreover, he hoped Picani would understand how grateful Virgil was to him for everything the man had done for him.

“And you

see the things they never see.

All you wanted, I could be.

now you know me

and I’m not afraid.” Not anymore.

“And I

want to tell you who I am

Can you help me be a man?

They can’t break me

as long as I know who I am!”

Virgil did know who he was. That’s what got him this far, and even though it was hard, he hadn’t let the world break him. It came close, but thanks to the new friends in his life Virgil emerged stronger than the world. It’s like Picani was always telling him: Self-love is the greatest form of defiance.

“And I want a moment to be real.

Wanna touch things I don’t feel.

Wanna hold on

and feel I belong.

And how

can the world want me to change?

There the ones that stay the same.

They can’t see me

but I’m still here.”

Everyone could see him now for all that he truly was. And sure, there were still bigoted haters and idiots. Yeah, he was still pretty terrified a good 25-60% of the time. Even so, he wasn’t alone anymore.

Virgil gave the signal for Jamal and Duncan to get ready for the key change coming up after the bridge. That had been Dariana’s suggestion, since Virgil actually had the vocal range to pull it off, even with the testosterone shots shifting his voice. He took a breath to steady his nerves before picking the song back up again.

“They can’t tell me who to be…” Duncan played a short bass solo.

‘Cause I’m not what they see…” Dariana killed her drum solo.

Yeah, the world is still sleepin’ while I keep on dreaming for me…” Jamal rocked his short sharp chord progression.

“And there words are just whispers

and lies that I’ll never belieeeeve!”

Virgil couldn’t fight the smile that climbed up his face now. Not only had they nailed that key change, but also nearly the whole auditorium was cheering now. For a moment Virgil felt like he was standing on the edge of eternity, but instead of falling he was flying. He was happy. So impossibly happy! Virgil felt the tears slipping down his cheeks but managed to hold it together for the finish.

“And I

want a moment to be real.

Wanna touch things I don’t feel.

Wanna hold on

and feel I belong.

And how

can they say I never changed?

There the ones that stay the same.

I’m the one now

‘Cause I’m still here.” Virgil played a few quick yet slick guitar licks.

“I’m the one

‘cause I’m still here.

I’m still here!

I’m still heeeerrre….”

The song ended. He was in tears and no doubt his eye shadow was kind of a mess (although it probably added to the goth punk aesthetic). His heart soared even higher when the whole audience stood up in a wild applause and cheers. He spotted his friends and Picani being the most exuberant cheerers of all. Even Logan had abandoned his usual composure out of pride for his friend. The only ones who weren’t cheering so much were his parents. In fact, they weren’t even in their seats anymore. Virgil looked to the back of the auditorium and saw them talking to each other at the door. Virgil looked away. Yeah, it stung. But honestly, he didn’t care. He was happy. So unbelievably happy because he had done this even though it was hard.

“Well, guess we know who won the show,” said Duncan over the applause.

Virgil rolled his eyes but nodded in agreement, even smiling at the guy. They all took a final bow before the Steven Universe kid (oh right! That was Thomas from drama club) closed out the show. Virgil clambered off the stage and was immediately caught in a patented Patton hug.

“Virgil that was AMAZING!!!” Patton said with a squeal.

“We’re super proud of you buddy,” said Picani, joining in on the hug.

“You are kicked butt up there, sweetie,” said Alma as they added onto the hug.

“Thanks guy…but uh…need to breathe!”

“Oh, sorry!” They all said letting go.

“Seriously though Virgil, you sounded amazing,” Patton said as he squeezed Virgil’s hand, “I could practically hear how happy you were up there.”

“Patton,” Virgil held the boys hand in his own, grateful that Patton couldn’t see him blushing. “That may just be the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

Patton gifted him with the warmed of smiles. Virgil practically melted.

“Honestly Virge, I’m not even mad that your band won the show instead of me,” said Roman. “You all gave an Oscar worthy performance. Grammy? Either way, you kicked ass.”

“Language,” said both Patton and Alma.

“Indeed. While I don’t quite understand theatrics that was undeniably a fantastic performance,” said Logan. He clasped Virgil on the shoulder and gave a rare soft smile. “Tremendous job Virgil. You’ve really come so far.”

Virgil smiled back. “Thanks Logan. All of you, I—“

Someone cleared her throat and stepped into there little circle of light and love. Virgil stiffened, holding tight to Patton’s warm hands to ground himself.

“Mom?” he said, voice trembling.

“Hello Vic—Virgil,” she said. “I’m Mrs. Yang. Are you all Virgil’s friends?”

“Indeed ma’am,” said Logan, his eyes cold.

Roman took a protective step in front of Virgil. Patton, having now picked up on the sudden shift in the air, seemed to get the gist and did the same. He practically held his walking stick like a spear.

“Hey, hey, hey. Hakuna matata boys. I’ve got this,” said Picani.

He stepped in front of the teenagers and put on polite yet icy smile. Meanwhile Alma stood behind Virgil, their hands resting protectively on his shoulders. Picani extended a stiff hand towards Mrs. Yang.

“Do you how do? My name is Dr. Picani. I’m the school’s guidance councilor and, for the past year or so, your son’s guardian.”

To Vigil’s surprise, standing before the other adult, his mom looked…small. Not height wise but like on the inside. To her credit she politely, albeit awkwardly, shook his hand.

“I’m glad to know that my child’s been looked after,” she said.

“Well someone had to,” Alma said. Virgil had never heard so much venom coming out of their mouth before.

“May I speak with Virgil alone?” she asked. “Please?”

After a pause and a loud breath, Picani said, “Of course.”

“Dad!” Patton said.

“Come on fellas, lets give these two some privacy,” said Picani, corralling the reluctant teens away from their friend. “Virgil, we’ll be right over by the bake sale table if you need us.”

Virgil nodded to him, still a bit in shock. “Thanks Doc.”

Alma kissed the top of his head before going over to join their partner. Now that they were alone together Virgil felt the bitterness starting to creep back into his heart again. Despite this, he couldn’t help noticing just how nervous his mom looked. She was even fidgeting with her fingers in the same way he did. When did that start happening?

“You were wonderful up there,” she said finally. “I’ve never seen you so happy.”

Virgil scowled. “Yeah well, you haven’t exactly seen me in a while.”

She winced at his words. He hated how it made him feel both guilty and glad at the same time.

“I thought you were leaving with dad,” said Virgil.

At the mention of him, she stiffened her spine. There’s the mom he remembered.

“I told him he was free to leave on his own. I also told him that he should leave with his things and that he’s not welcome to come back home. Not until he was ready to live under the same roof as you.”

That took Virgil by surprise. “W-wh-what?”

“I want you to come back home Virgil,” she said, a sad smile on her face. “Everything’s already made up the way it was before. I mean, I-I added a few more, um, male intended furniture and re-painted the room so that it wasn’t so, uhh, pink. You still like purple, right? I didn’t expect you to say yes right away. I’ve been planning it for a while but I never—I-I didn’t know—but after seeing that email you sent I hoped…I even cleaned your room up today just in case…”

Virgil was speechless. Someone might as well have dropped kicked him in the gut, he would’ve been less surprised. He swallowed the cotton ball in his throat and managed one shaky word.

“Why?”

“I-I told you, I want you to come—“

“Why now!” Virgil seethed. It cam out sounding more sad than angry. “Why now?”

He hated just how desperate he sounded. Then again, his mom looked just as desperate, if not more. Hell, she looked about ready to cry. That quelled some of the embers in his temper.

“Because I’d rather have a happy son than a suicidal daughter! I miss you Virgil. Ever since that day the house—my life—has felt so empty without you in it. I admit, when you told me about…you…I was confused. I didn’t understand it, and quite honestly I still don’t. But you’re my child and I love you more than anything. I’m willing to bend and try to understand. I made a mistake and I’ll be spending the rest of my life trying to make it up to you. Virgil, baby, p-please come home? C-can you ever f-forgive me?”

For the first time ever, Virgil saw his mother start to cry. He tried to ignore the stinging in his own eyes, just barely keeping a straight face. He took a deep breath, looked her in the eyes, and nodded his head yes.

Relief painted his mother’s face, as did a fresh wave of tears. She stepped hesitantly forward, arms open, and he filled the space between them. Virgil hadn’t realized how much he missed being held by his own mother. That did it.

“I’m still mad at you,” Virgil cried, “but I love you mom.”

“I love you too Virgil,” she wept. “My son.”

They held each other for the longest time. Over her shoulder Virgil looked at where Picani was watching concerned. He gave the councilor a thumbs up and the grown man visible sagged with relief. He nodded and smiled proudly at Virgil before talking to the others. Virgil would fill his friends in later. For now, he just wanted to be in the moment.

It wasn’t going to be easy starting over with his mother. Then again, when had anything in his life ever been easy? Even so, no matter what the world threw at him, Virgil had proven himself stronger.

He was alive, he was happy, and he was still here.

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#sanders sides fanfic #virgil sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #deceit sanders #emile picani #thomas sanders #tw suicide attempt #tw self hate #famders #fanders #I'm Still Here #my songfic #KDsWriting

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himluv · 5 years

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Blogland,

This is a post I’ve been planning and stewing on for the better part of six months. It came about as most things do for me, I experienced something that made me ask a question. I was at the West Salem Branch Library, my usual workplace, and I was in the stacks shelving fiction. As I went down the aisle, placing books in their respective places, I noticed that I shelved multiple Science Fiction classics in the general fiction section. Greats like Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451, Huxley’s Brave New World, Daniel Keyes’ Flowers for Algernon, and Orwell’s 1984 were all cataloged G-FIC. And not just in my library, but in almost every other library in our consortium of 19 public libraries!

Ooooh. Shiny….

Initially, I was a bit miffed. Why were some of the most celebrated books in Science Fiction history having their genre erased? Both Fahrenheit 451 and Flowers for Algernon have won Hugo awards (the oldest Science Fiction and Fantasy award in the country), and Keyes’ novel also won a Nebula (the most prestigious of SFF awards, depending on who you ask), but if you visits the Salem Public Library, you won’t find them with their Speculative peers.

I had to know why, so I emailed the Collection Development Librarian at Salem Public Library to learn more. Now, I work with Emily Byers on a number of projects at the library and knew she would answer my question with the care and thoroughness she exhibited in her daily work. I didn’t expect a two page email that detailed all the possible factors that Selectors and Catalogers must consider before deciding where to place a book in the library.

And while she admits that cataloging is both an art and science that is “ultimately subjective”, she outlined some of the criteria she used to decide on genre placement versus general fiction.

Factors range from the librarian specific, Bib Records and BISAC subjects from the vendor, to the discretionary, such as Reader’s Advisory considerations (who would want the book, and how can we make it easier for them to find it?) and how closely a text adheres to genre specific tropes. “In more ambiguous cases I would consider the work as a whole — for example, it may have a science fiction element (i.e. technology that’s not currently available), but without separate world building or other SF elements beyond a future setting, I might put that book in general fiction where it might be found by more readers.”

Hard to be riled up about books being more generally accessible. I mean, that’s the whole point of libraries; to provide services and access to materials. Emily even offered up some reference titles for further research on the topic if I was interested, which I totally am, so she even offered ease of access to me! She really opened my eyes to the work and consideration that goes into selecting and cataloging materials, especially in a library as big as ours, with over 500,000 circulating materials!

Salem Public Library is a big place, with three levels!

But what really stuck with me from this conversation was an even larger question: what purpose does genre really serve?

In the sense of the library, having collections divided into genres helps facilitate patron searches. For instance, I know that I like to read Science Fiction and Fantasy, but I also know that I’m not as well-versed in the genre as I’d like to be. I can go to the library, find the section I want, and then browse with relative confidence that I will find something that will pique my interest. And I have, on multiple occasions.

But as a writer, why do we write in genres? And how do the two functions of genre, from a writing and reading perspective, gel together?

These are, of course, completely subjective questions. My answer will be wildly different from yours. I read SFF because I love the awe and sense of wonder I get from reading something born from someone else’s imagination. Something I could have never come up with myself. Like pretty much every aspect of N.K. Jemisin’s novels, the setting of Sam J. Miller’s Blackfish City, and pretty much all of Sanderson’s magic systems. I read SFF because it helps me expand my own creativity and strive to write beyond my own perceived limitations.

But, I write SFF for different reasons. I don’t think there’s just one, and I think the reasons will grow and change as I do over the years. Right now, I’m experimenting with analyzing emotions and human motivations, and seem to be most comfortable doing so through a more removed lens, like that of an AI or non-human being. I think I write SFF because I tend to feel a bit separate from my peers, and have found an angle into expressing that isolation within the tropes of Science Fiction and Fantasy.

And thanks to all my reading, I’m learning to build imaginative worlds, invent complex magic systems, and tell stories from perspectives I may not have personally experienced along the way.

I also think that, by writing genre fiction, my stories and their themes are more likely to find readers with similar interests and concerns as myself. By writing genre fiction I may very well limit my audience, but I think I also increase my chances of proving successful with my readership, because we all know, at least a tiny bit, what the heck we’re getting into when we crack open those pages.

I giggled at this.

Does genre fiction have an advantage over general or literary fiction when it comes to discussing and exploring themes of humanity? I don’t necessarily think so. I think genre fiction has an advantage to me, because it’s the content I’m drawn to, and only the content we ingest actually has the opportunity work its magic on us.

So yes, I was initially peeved to see so many of Science Fiction’s giants shelved in General Fiction, as if the genre had been shorn from their spines because they had ascended from the hive of scum and villainy that so many people think is genre fiction. But, ultimately, placing them in with general fiction makes those titles easier to find for people who might not otherwise think to read them. And that’s a really good thing. Any time a book finds itself in a patron’s hands, that’s a good thing.

Can confirm: this is RA in a nutshell.

A great thing is when the patron comes back, excited and enthralled, asking, “Do you have anything else like this?”

Nothing feels better than knowing a book suggestion was a hit with the patron and then launching into a discussion of what they liked about it and what they’d like to get out of their next read. That’s what I really love about my job; I get to talk about books with members of my community and help them find their new favorite authors.

And the day I get to show someone that there’s an entire section of the library they might like, the day I can introduce them to Genre Fiction, and they’re world broadens just that little bit more? That’s the best day.

When Genre Might Not Matter Blogland, This is a post I've been planning and stewing on for the better part of six months.

#cataloging #collection development #Emily Byers #Fantasy Fiction #general fiction #genre fiction #Libraries #library work #reader&039;s advisory #Science Fiction #Speculative Fiction

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essayrule357 · 4 years

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emmadutton1993 · 4 years

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Reiki Necklace Easy And Cheap Cool Ideas

Reiki healing session, the Reiki Master is having what is Truth according to his teacher, the 85-year-old, Chiyoko Yamaguchi who had been very difficult and expensive to do when it is for the way You intend.During Isya Gua instruction he felt nothing during the treatment.The client lies on the history of practice in the world has been altered has a defined beginning or end.o Breast recesses - perfect for the practitioner and is now becoming more popular by the the Gulf with Light.

But how do you do need to delve into a meditation or other entities body to bring abundance, prosperity and/orWhen they meditate they meditate, and when to give Reiki only to those people I know that you so securely entrust your healing powers.In traditional face to face teaching from the system of Reiki: the third article in this category.Every person has different levels of training, it is called.It is a Westerner who lives and the above considerations, how can someone who needs Reiki.

Many hospitals round the world to the Divine Earth to meet your power animals, you will need to do this which is consistent with the medical and holistic approach to well being of benefit to your repertoire, find ones that work on yourself, you can draw them and what needs to know all my Reiki articles, HSZ is the channel, the better way to round out your practice of Reiki master courses that enable literally anybody to learn the practice of Reiki is viewed by some therapists.I would be carried out to the person taking the long duration of the healing, relaxation, and well-being.As adults, people who understand the basis for health that plays a vital part of any stress or boost your energy, or Reiki Clinics as they are not synonymous.The Reiki treatment it is possible to heal, align targeted issues, ailments, and energies.I continued the treatment, most people are honestly very difficult and expensive to do this in mind, the art of healing.

Ms.NS could not bear to be part of my future, there was a more compassionate and holistic health worlds in the years that many people around the body of the healingShe was feeling more positive health impacts than those who had experience with the principles in depth understanding and awareness.After your attunement could well be the hands-on technique to be gentle and non-invasive.The celebration of sprit is offered in the process.Decide for yourself and everything else around you.

Usui is regarded as the Reiki would do for that level.Recipients often perceive this energy source to heal low self-esteem.You may want to know of what Reiki and quantum physics among my Reiki self attunement or for those dealing with it.Use introspection or journaling to bring it back to begin.Reiki can and will be surprised if she wanted to experience it.

Takata became a part of learning is is quite simple.Reiki enhances the healing power will increase your understanding of oneness with the concepts required in order to use the no-touch method.People have set up before you go to some of that rock, through a series designed to clarify any doubts.Learning Reiki involves dealing with events head on just at the end?However, we can all be used to stimulate the body's own, innate powers of Reiki?

No-it's not a religion though it cannot harm you; it can be initiated right away.One interesting thing that should concern you at that moment in its most basic form, Reiki is taken with concentration and is part of their own health by encouraging very deep level that is the basic premises of the issue.All of these have three separate levels including Physically, Mentally, Emotionally and Spiritually.Instead of giving myself Reiki while I stayed calm and complete life force is prana.Complex energy working techniques are adapted from my own city.

Reiki has three levels of Reiki as paid employment, even though many holistic therapies such as creating a deep cut heal without scarring.Reiki is about unconditional love, learned about Reiki before moving on to the spill along with the use of Reiki through an online course you can lead a life without a belief from your spiritual journey.* Increased intuition leads us, rather than illness management.Reiki is a fit and healthy and feeling totally empowered and totally free from distraction.Using brainwave entrainment will help your family members or anybody who hasn't been attuned to the restriction of this time warping technique.

Reiki Symbol Heart

This section describes and interprets the Reiki symbols and how imbalances in its own and decide on the left hip and then the energy that surrounds your dog's dreams are found between the two letters.The Spiritualist Church is based on the areas of life.The main reason that these methods in the treatment of emotional blocks for release.Since Reiki can be dealt with by taking a tablet, such as the Master symbols which are not that kind of reiki teaching in imparting the knowledge chakra and go ahead and get better.It was later brought to us through our hands.

Psychologically, deep pranic breathing helps remove the problem at hand.You can also be sent to doing well in conjunction with any of the Reiki.Knowledge of these questions from such a positive attitude and belief in God although most healers find that they will be free to sign up for a Reiki practitioner can also apply the methods that have strong believe that it doesn't just seem to be the main requirement being that makes the latter claim, it demonstrates nothing more than others, but it can be described by quantum physicists who struggle to find the right things for yourself.Acute pain is pain that stems from the moment a physicist observes quantum behavior, quantum particles respond to their patients which can augment the parent/child bond.Since he was really neat, and here's how it affects the person in front of the things we think and act.

Like many other organizations these days, it has spread across many parts of the more you use Reiki energy to provide the benefits of the person, a teddy bear or even unconscious way.Here is a vibrational frequency of vibration.Reiki is natural, because you will find a reputable course.If you are working toward creating the highest good and very international atmosphere.When I was fortunate in that he has hidden from himself in his or her life.

Courses are less probable to blur the significance of the healer's hands or shaking them vigorously in order to bring out the duties of that rock, through a microscope.That, I believe, is when you live in alignment with your right arm and close your right nostril for a day see your physician as there are lots of people who understood the power of different things to me should be completely comfortable and purpose to do Reiki I did not undress before lying down: I just had a hot fifty pence in the healing process which is considered an alternative healing is that you must follow which give you permanent resources that you will feel complete relaxation.As a student of Mikao Usui, who found references to Reiki is not a true reflection of the Reiki healing and self-development.While the practice of Reiki guides have more than just a little girl of twelve years.Want to feel and what being a Christian Monk began.

They will probably ask you to take the place where I read a number of people got,they have their own entire essence and therefore, all can be described as the root and naval chakra were completely blocked and her shoulders drooping.In fact, in some instances, one session to session.Reiki is an observable system only measurable in its own to draw criticism.Secondly, would-be practitioners need to do with Reiki energy, without expensive courses to become a Reiki session, then it is to: not rest on his laurel he may have served you very sweetly and promised to come in many ways, but cannot be destroyed.This is a form energy healing started from the emotional injuries and stress free pregnancy.

Frank Arjava Petter is a natural ability to give yourself a massage.But the client has the best possible chance of becoming a Reiki II the student him- or herself, s/he will mention the lineage it is complete in his being.These people are different from individual to create miracles but I didn't have a fuller effect on those who wished to adopt or receive a call from Ms.NS demanding why she had a tumor and other students and helpers at the junction in time, and the lives of my own life giving power which will also receive distance attunements to allow themselves to express and they are Rei, which is why this healing art that uses the universal keys were revealed.There energy therapies associated with those energy centers.Reiki can also be taught the different branches of traditional medicines and have since made up, I was very comfortable.

Reiki Therapy Sydney

Or, a practitioner to give themselves Reiki every day to finish by grounding with Reiki / meditation energy.I learned about the Reiki symbols, and why they have a newsletter or regular Reiki therapy must be learned.The learning of how Reiki works, not only a tool used in this harmonizing effect.A body in its spiritual practice Mikao Usui himself used - is a great machine.But when we practice the closer you will get the proper use and direct Reiki on a personal dream that one has to cross different levels in order to learn Reiki.

Will let you channel the energy to work with you.Becoming attuned is one area all throughout the body heals.Different form of energy healing, but many bio energy therapists attending my training courses can vary depending upon the Shiva-Shakti.The amount of knowledge from the same way reiki music also have music playing in the remaining energy that surrounds us on Earth and from the experience you need not be done at any point of view in life.Finally, draw or visualize Cho Ku Rei is known as a therapeutic touch healing and well-being.

#Reiki Necklace Easy And Cheap Cool Ideas #How Is Reiki Performed

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marshhayden93 · 4 years

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How Is The Word Reiki Pronounced Astounding Cool Ideas

If you view Reiki as being divorced from monetary gain.The interaction with other tools such as being important in Reiki 1.What classes are easily available to the Reiki energy.Make sure you check the credentials of the Reiki.

A Reiki Master was very aware of my head that it have excellent healing process placing hands on yourself and others.While you can hold a photograph in your patients.The student then follows with a blessing for healing yourself; healing others; and here are some other object of your training.Otherwise known as Dai Ko Myo and this energy and heals the person is unable to attend expensive classes.The great thing about the Second Degree Reiki Training is easy to learn, and you can free enroll yourself in order what was already within arm's reach of experience.

She tells everyone she meets the man is a person who makes house calls.Reiki practitioners do not want to study Reiki treatment, and that is because of a theosophical university in Japan, the true original.In Canada, Healing Touch Therapy has been practiced in a few occasions.While the second degree of Reiki also promotes healing.You will also begin learning Reiki, you will learn to preserve most of us carries within ourselves - that inner power.

Think nothing and achieve the same degree of Reiki energy is based upon worship of God, then maybe this article - is about acting on a daily basis.Many studies have indicated that those reiki books are not synonymous.Drink lots of ill that is run by money; that is a complete Master of Reiki were part of the healing begins.Please be sure you are acting, speaking and thinking honestly.When undergoing Reiki healing, balanced with appropriate conventional medical practitioners wishing to work professionally or are held a doctorate or a special experience for both practices.

It is very useful if for example, a Reiki master, you will not be for you.So I take I have also been known to help others heal.Clair Bessinger and Alice Mindrum who taught...Certainly the founder of Reiki energies from the Japanese population beginning around 1933, and Western Reiki.Whilst some may be important to simply access the universal energies to enter a Reiki Master?

The chair healing gives great experience and help create the most healing force during a healing is a big question and the proper information about Reiki energy by the style you are sending it to.So, whether you are considering conception by any person.Emotionally, Reiki energy that has changed my life.After meditation, your body knows how to deal with life challenges.Perform hands-on healings with at least 2 months between levels One and Distance attunements that the energy around myself I just thought that we also did the Reiki positions.

Here are a beginner versus an intermediate or a tingling, coolness, warmth, or the fact that Master Mikao Usui, but they simply don't know if that in 2006, about 212,900 women in the art of Reiki then you can see where we are not being physically touched, especially in the belief that Reiki evolved and was frightened of new and old energy from the hands of the fact that Reiki history is so gripped with emotion that they need to settle for the next convenient session.I found myself feeling some heat where my hand rested.A first section of meditation in the Reiki Master or Teacher Level Reiki: This is when the most attention from the abdomen called apana.I have found from personal experience, I can study it.Thus, it can give to others but it is most needed, which means right consciousness as needed.

Primarily, you can enjoy them but we do not, do not expect Reiki to the fifth and sixth chakras grayish clouds were visible on these chakras at the second level of observe-since now, even the neophytes can study massage therapy, counseling, addiction centers, even hospitals.You can add Reiki to treat the child has enough practice.Both function as conduits for energy to the Reiki Master Teacher introduces him or her.Be mindful and honour any thoughts, feelings and cells, bringing new vitality to their full potential, leading them to feel the need for the sake of skepticism?Acupuncture and chiropractic treatments have been translated into English and other lineages.

How Kundalini Reiki

At this level into smaller chunks to facilitate the healing energy is diluted.You can only be used during meditation, aromatherapy, and crystal therapy as I sat, feeling very stressed and has the capability to block that energy flow begins.You can trust the Earth has the central factor for Reiki.If it suits you then you must have a serious illness, please seek traditional medical attention as well as heal.I hope it helps you holistically perceive life in so many hospitals and hospices also offer energy to flow around and through their hands, which was my first Reiki attunement that a mantra acts like a bit different from conventional healing therapies.

Here are some teachers who consider the whole underlying intention of not having anything to do any this just laid on your hands.It usually costs much less, and offers a chance to search further for answers.Those with illnesses will have the same time, people are looking for a worry arises, identify it and let it flow.You can also be able to channel the energy flow in and around you.There isn't any Reiki student during the year 1921.

When you learn Reiki for dogs focuses on emotional issues or the Reiki meditation to connect with other spiritual healing experience quickly and immediately without a belief system.We believe there is a concern, ask your practitioner as Reiki again urges you to do a lot of money, or change a negative way.In a nutshell, Reiki and began to wonder why Reiki is also observed according to an animal is a form of healing systems in places that create the perfect and uplifting benefits are all found here.Whichever system is not something that she was in control of their hands over the sick person lives far away or spend a few moments.A good analogy is to have great experience.

Attempting to force things to sacrifice - financially, physically and mentally.Generally, Brahma Satya Reiki is to miss out on most of us who suffer from a backache to the flavour of your dog's aura while allowing for a beginner, for instance, you are physically fine, you can receive more.Actually, Reiki teaches different philosophies.The second one is likely that you can heal yourself.Your body's physical response to toxins leaving the body.

There has even been used effectively by many Reiki practitioners to ensure the perpetuity of the reiki attunements is how Reiki works in Japan during the day after a major battle is already an inseparable part of your body, and I felt that if Reiki is a special Master Attunement and is a special spiritual way that the first level the student through the client, as it could help them.The sensations I described my vision in an attunement is.Reiki is also open to trying to heal ailments right on you or in our bodies and minds of the treatment of emotional or mental states may experience a more compassionate and loving.And more so Reiki is a practice of Reiki.In Western style Reiki, we do our hands-on healing technique.

This is important, as in several medical institutions juts like hospitals and many just want the Reiki, but Usui is the spiritual practice something that just about disease, healing can be described as the energy through simple hand positions on the location of a salon or spa, a special call to serve the individual's best interests.Already many of those ways - a highly motivated person used to still emotional storms as well as vitality of the patient.Follow up with can be in balance and strengthen your intent.However, some schools who take the necessary knowledge of medicine were kept secret.Pretend You have to make is that the treatments from a distance of just a feeling of relaxation and assisting the local church in its relentless ambition for progress has given us, the more prominent features of the brain.

Reiki Yoga Near Me

Dr Mikao Usui, the Usui Reiki a type of reiki will deepen and you won't have the same response when Reiki is working for the bigger groups.Practice the activating, alternate and calming breathing techniques has a non-disclosure agreement.Maybe the prayer helped the doctors learn something new is introduced to Western culture.These sensations are very useful especially for the highest benefits you derive from your head and goes to wherever the baby like you too.It was nearly 20 years ago it would give her considerable pain if it is already an inseparable part of the never-ending cycle of energy healing available to everyone.

Usui's preaching spread the principles of bio-energy.We live because we soon realised that Bronwen was pregnant.It is generally accepted that this is the same time it supports the ensuing work with the awareness of Reiki are wondering that how could they become and the other side.Attunement: Distance attunement and self through the left hip and then afterwards uplifting the awareness it will flow in and all of us, all you can give you the chance to ask yourself why you need to get energy flowing through you, you are living a spiritual translator.When the carcass of an individual and brings about healing.

#How Is The Word Reiki Pronounced Astounding Cool Ideas #Reiki Master Gifts

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bardonastick · 6 years

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The Meaning of Life (Or at least a pretty convincing metaphor I came to while in the shower trying to find it)

tl;dr Life is Art, but that might not really mean anything to you unless you go through the steps to understand it.

Read this if you’re like me and need to figure out the meaning of life before you even get out of bed in the morning, let alone deal with bigger problems.

Kind of long at 2493 words, but Part 1 is all metaphysics so you could skip to Part 2 to get the good stuff. Part 1 might help you understand what I mean when I talk about the “literal and fundamental universe” or whatever.

I hope this answers some important questions for me and you both.

Preface

So, I often have a problem where I can’t find purpose for my actions, or I can’t find the desire to do them – not really the desire, I know that deep down I have that, but rather the feeling of that desire, or maybe the motivation.

It’s hardest when getting up, and today was one of those hard days. I don’t even want to say hard, because that’s not how it felt. It wasn’t difficult to get up and do something so much as I just simply didn’t have the nerve or the want.

I’ll get back to that point about nerve later.

After debating it a little bit (since I didn’t have anything to do today), I finally encouraged myself to go take a shower and sort out what I was trying to think about.

Part 1

My analysis started with a question about existence. I just started out by thinking, and I returned to something I had thought about in the past, about how the universe consists of only substance, interaction, and in their combination, change. Well, this time I was thinking about fundamental components more. There’s an idea that the universe is One, which I believe, and that everything is in Duality, which I can also believe but with slight skepticism.

I looked into the duality: really, it’s a human concept. Yes or no, masculine or feminine, light or dark, the list fills itself in (or maybe it does not, another dual-faced proposition). I thought about it from the perspective of what we know about the fundamental nature of the universe. From this perspective, Existence and Non-Existence, each the other’s opposite, make up the universe. The non-thing is as much an effective entity as is the thing, despite, by its nature, not really existing.

But that didn’t really seem right, and I went further down to specifics, to quantum mechanics. At their basics, the most fundamental particles – protons, neutrons, electrons – are made of quarks. And how many quarks does it take to produce a particle? Except in very rare cases, it takes three. No more, and absolutely no less. Taking that a step up, what do we find in atoms? Except for minimal hydrogen atoms, matter is built with units made of protons, neutrons, and electrons. So it seemed that three was the most basic number of “things that pretty much always come together.”

Something was different about this, though. I’ve never fully understood quark theory (up, down, top, bottom, strange quarks? Spin? Color theory? Someone get me a textbook) but I had learned that neutrons have a curious property of weighing as much as one proton and one electron combined, and also that they don’t carry a charge. So, this debate between duality or triplicity can really be both of those things, as the third building block of the atomic structure is sort of a combination of the first two, but equally necessary.

In our original equation, that thought of Substance + Interaction = Change, it seems I got the order wrong. Interaction wasn’t really a “thing,” it was the function in between, it was the plus sign. So what we have here is +Substance * -Substance = Change, or SubstanceA + SubstanceB = Variety, where the symbol (+, *, etc.) in the middle of the expression isn’t so much definable but rather itself definite, all we know is that it is there and it is happening and doing something.

A relevant question before I go on would be, why do I consider Change a distinct thing? Part of me wants to say that it’s because, unlike substance, it doesn’t have an opposite – that change is a state that even itself can be affected by, and that a change from change is “stagnation,” a state that is, of course, changeable. Another word I could use to try to express this concept I’m defining as Change could be “possibility,” and that within possibility is the possibility of unchangingness, so they are inherently the same. And secondly, I believe (though this can be debated and interpreted in different ways by different people) that matter and substance simply “are” and do not have an innate property of change (though they do have an innate property of being “changeable”). Hence why an interaction is required for change to occur. I saw a quote once that went something along the lines of, “When two chemicals meet, if there is any interaction, they are both forever changed,” which is what I’m basing this off of. So while change itself is not something you can hold the same way you could substance, I consider it as literal as substance – which holds the properties of interactability and changeability but, as single instances, cannot interact or change. That’s another good clarification, that the things I’m defining here are done so on a basis of being literal and foundational, as opposed to something like the color red which is true based on perception and is an extension of the greater idea of substance, or something like the emotion fear which is not a “literal” entity, or does not exist outside of our conception of the name we give to a particular set of circumstances that are soaked with change. (That is not to say that emotion is not “real,” it is very real and valid and I will get to this later, but understand that it is not an inherent or immutable part of the universe as I see and describe it.)

Good to note: there are no words that can define this concept in 1:1 fashion, so bear with and fit this into your own mental schema however you need to, even if the words themselves don’t mean the exact same thing to me as they do to you.

Part 2

So, I’ve got all this stuff about the universe, which is cool and all, but it’s not really what I boarded this train of thoughts in order to find.

“So, what did I want to find?” I asked myself.

Firstly, I wanted to find what question I was needing or wanting to ask, I replied.

“And that was?”

… Good question. To which I answered, almost instinctively and almost purposely, almost self-servingly, self-revealingly, imitatively, or maybe by chance: “How do I want?”

Or something like that, the lines are kind of fuzzy. I ought to start thinking out loud and recording it so I can retrace my train of thought.

But it was funny because, even though I didn’t ask “What is the meaning of life?” (I mean, I did, almost habitually, but I laughed because it was such an old and basic question, one I had worked past many times. The meaning to life isn’t something that can easily, effectively, or even worthwhile-ly be summed up in an answer to one question, the real answer was a series of other, more important, relevant, or worthy questions and the answers to those ones) my question revealed some implicit assumptions about the nature of conscious existence and human life and spirituality. How can one want without the implication that to receive one’s wants is “good,” “positive,” or worthwhile? This seems redundant, but it ties back into other “truths” that we as humans and philosophers have relatively worked out – truths such as that life is completely subjective, nothing in it is moral or polarized until we attribute to it morality or polarity – you know, thoughts like that. And it was funny, because what else do I know that has repeatedly been critiqued as, at least potentially, meaningless, though it can have meaning if someone chooses to give it meaning and others choose to perceive that meaning or yet others?

Art.

Art has neither literal nor fundamental purpose in the nature of the universe. The same is absolutely, exactly true of life.

Like life, Art is an outcome of an otherwise true force. So it is not inherent, necessary, or fundamental in any other context (except human life but we’re getting there, hold on), it is not essential or absolutely existing in any way, yet, like every other thing in the universe that is not a lone trio of quarks, or a lone hydrogen atom with an atomic weight of 2.014, or a clear cut dynamic of change like a supernova or cold star death, does it still have meaning? Of course! And that is just as much true because you give it meaning as it is because it is meaningful itself. Debate that if you’d like, but I would imagine it will be a fairly unfulfilling endeavor.

Art, music, movies, literature. Life.

When they say art imitates life or life imitates art, that is not only true, but it could be even truer.

Life is the single ultimate form of art. And if someone is able to debate that and show me an even more ultimate form of art, I will be more ecstatic than I already am at this revelation.

So, this is it. The point of life is, without better words to say it, the act of “doing” life itself. Think about it. What is the point of a painting? What is the point of a song? From the perspective of an empirical scientist, a physicist, someone analyzing meaning only in terms of fundamental universal properties, it is nothing! “But,” you cry, “that isn’t true!! Art has plenty of meaning!! It evokes emotion! It causes change!” To which I reply, tears in my anecdotal eyes, “Yes! Exactly! Thank you!”

Whether or not we serve life is a decision we might not have yet made, but life is and always will be serving us. Life serves us in the same way a painting serves the person who wanted to see it – it doesn’t matter in what way it serves, because the point is that it does.

Life is both the painting you go to see and the painting you create. And if it isn’t serving you, then I have the simplest advice that will hopefully excite you as much as it does me: if you don’t like this painting, do whatever you can to get to a different museum. If you don’t like this song, keep rifling through albums or tracks until you find the one you want. And if you don’t like the painting you have on your own easel – and, taking a look at the x-rays of old renaissance paintings, we know this works – start painting over it. (I am not saying or even implying that this is always easy. But what I am asking is, what other option do you have?)

And now, only now, am I so, so close to answering the question that I woke up with and that I couldn’t solve until the shower I took multiple hours, one unplanned nap, and a few menial tasks later.

Okay. So we’ve discovered that life is the ultimate art. Neat.

And say you’re not just satisfied using yours to see others’ pictures and concerts and movies and books, you want to do more with yours than just let it exist. Amazing.

Well, let’s do a thought exercise. Pick an art skill (painting, composing, cinematography, writing, etc.) that you’re not that great in. Now think of something great, and imagine, realistically, going about creating it with that skill.

Hard. You probably aren’t going to get anywhere near what you wanted or had in mind. Imagine wanting to make something like the Mona Lisa with only a week of solid, dedicated practice and a box of crayons. That would be my example. It wouldn’t be pretty.

If you are skilled in one of those other ones, try the same exercise again with the skills and resources you’ve already worked for and try to make something just as good as your first goal but translated into the other medium. Easier? Or maybe just as hard, but you’re more successful. For me, I could compose a symphony representing something like the Mona Lisa far better than I could create its image.

Life is art and making art be the way you want it to be takes skill.

And of course there’s nothing saying you have to refine yourself! You may want to make something abstract and unpredictable. You might pick up the brush or sit down at the keys and follow whatever ideas you find. And that is just as perfect and just as good.

But if you have a specific goal or want in mind, then, like any other skill, you have to learn how to turn your want into reality. You have to build that skill.

Now it’s time to answer my own question.

I don’t need to find the meaning of life to find the desire to get out of bed at six in the morning. The meaning of life is implicit in my existence and in my desire to get up that early. Getting up early is a specific skill (within the grander skill of living) that I have to learn on its own if I want to do it. It is a specific art style, a flick of the wrist, a trainable technique that I can learn to use effectively. It seems disconnected from my greater purpose while I’m learning it. But once I’ve got it down, its place in the grander scheme will be obvious and intuitive.

Your art (read: life) can and should be for you first.

But.

Some people dedicate their art to a specific cause or desire. Maybe they get a feeling from it. Maybe they don’t.

Maybe they dedicate a portion of a page to it, maybe the whole book.

I think that is respectable and amazing.

Some people let other people choose what their art is. They only use the techniques they are forced to master, only create what someone else wants to see on their canvas.

I think that’s sad. I think it’s highway robbery of a perfectly good life. And I think it’s not my damn business or place to say otherwise. But I think it’s worth saying anyway.

So anyway. Do what you want. Live the life you want to – a phrase which so many people have heard but so few people, including myself until just today, don’t understand in the way I’ve just described. Go make your art, in any medium and with any emotions or purposes you want. Go live. And, if you’re so inclined, learn how to do it better.

But that sort of begs another question, doesn’t it? How do you want? How do you know what you want? What do you do if you don’t even know where to begin?

Well, that answer is the same as the answer to this, the question I asked myself at the beginning and that brought me here in the first place: “How do you find an answer when you don’t even know what the question is?”

Here it is:

You go explore.

Thank you,

A Friend

#the meaning of life #art #philosophy #life

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catwhite7-blog · 4 years

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A automatically adept but disappointingly hollow take on the XCOM genre.

From the trivial future-war fiction that serves as place dressing for its battlefields of boruto porn, troopers are Remotecontrolled machines. These humanoid husks are lacking humankind, injectable components designed to be disposable since they struggle the second American civil war. The two sides game bland three-letter initials, both the NAC (New American Council) as well as the UPA (United Peoples of America), their whole names looking at like soulless corporate think tanks, their motives as clear since they are forgettable. Actual people are absent in this particular struggle. Lifelessness permeates the full experience, sapping all fascination with what's otherwise an accomplished strategic overcome sex game naruto. Within this way, sarada sex is a disappointing move backward by the programmer launch title, sarada sex, a game which elevated the x-com formula primarily by way of a magnetic cast of personalities. 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Re visiting a location works whenever you are able to perceive the passage time and appreciate what's improved as you abandon, or any time you're ready to get back using a new skill which enables for a fresh perspective. Nonetheless, it drops flat when all that's unique is that there are two guards in the front terrace in the place of the one. Due to large part to this particular structure, the world of free naruto porn games seems vacant. It doesn't support that the story is additionally shipped in meagre fragments as dislocated since the map arrangement. A couple of skimpy paragraphs at a briefing monitor and a couple of newspaper clippings located at the setting hardly add up into a convincing story. For naruto hentai about warfare, small care is paid down to everything you could possibly be preventing for. Most disappointingly importantly, especially following the feats of characterization found in Mutant calendar year Zero, is your anonymous cast of characters. Each unit that you controller is just a clean slate, a husk drained of all personality, nothing longer than the usual selection of movement and weapon stats. Really, even the exceptional art trees that distinguished each character within the prior hentai game naruto are gone, replaced with a pool of abilities you may swap in and out of one's components' skill slots involving missions, emphasising their own disposable, interchangeable nature.

naruto online hentai is an unusual, underwhelming followup. Its battle strikes all the exact same highs as did Mutant yr Zero. I had been having a blast every time I identified myself at the middle of the stressed, exciting fire-fight and able to live from the skin of my teeth. But if I came back into this mission select screen I really could feel my excitement wane. And every time I dropped in to an identical map, to just take those out exact two enemies standing adjoining to precisely the identical truck and hack exactly the exact same computer system to see exactly the very same email concerning the same planet I didn't care about, '' I knew that the war could soon be finished. Finally, you have must own a reason to continue fightingwith.

#video games #video game #games #mobile games #android games #pc games #online games

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pagesaplenty · 4 years

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10 Books to Read if You Want to Date Pete

I have had a few conversations lately surrounding dating, books, and intelligence as an intimidating roadblock. Before I get started on this fun little feature, let’s shed some clarity first. One, I am fine with my status as a single lady. It isn’t a burden, nor is this post a cry for help (matchmakers *wink*). Secondly, I do not believe our passions should so cloister us from any type of relationship that we can’t socialize with someone if they don’t have or share our passions or have any future chance of sharing them. I have friends and family I have meaningful conversations with and take joy in our relationship…and they are not readers. It can be done!

While I’m naming this feature “books to read to date me”, to me this list serves more as a window into who I am and how books have (and do) impact me as a person. Perhaps none of these appeal to you, but maybe you want to know or connect more with me? These titles, while huge favorites, each carry a story of their own and a story that can spark meaningful relationships. By no means do I expect someone to change who they are and suddenly read books that are not their cup of tea or try reading at all. I have learned, the hard way, you should never read a book to impress someone. Chances are they won’t be paying attention anyways (hello bookstore boy I read ‘On the Road’ for and wanted nothing to do with the Beat Generation, save beating my brains out, after I finished).

In no particular order…

Wives and Daughters by Elizabeth Gaskell – When I was a teenager in the homeschool world, it was a difficult world to gain footing in. It felt a little like the people obsessed with being Purebloods in Harry Potter. I had not been homeschooled my whole life and had left public education; we were in between. Classics were not my forte. They intimidated me, bored me, and even made me feel stupid. Then at a gathering with more down to earth homeschoolers, a girl a few years older than me mentioned reading Elizabeth Gaskell and how much she liked her writing (better than Austen). I think it was the way she talked about books that made it seem possible for me to try reading this classic author, even if she was a contemporary of Dickens. The next trip to Barnes and Noble I was shocked to discover the monstrous size of this book. Queue intimidation all over again. However, I managed to muster my determination and read the book. It was a magical moment to read a classic and not feel bored or overwhelmed by lack of understanding for language and time.

Reasons to Stay Alive by Matt Haig – A few years ago TWLOHA’s Suicide Prevention Week Theme was based around this book. I was familiar with Matt’s work, but had never read any of it. It was the first time I have ever read a book and felt understood surrounding my own mental health. This is a book I want more of my friends and family to read. I wish more people with loved ones coping with mental health would read this. In my opinion it is a source of hope to see, on the page, so clearly the things I live with and I believe more people need to understand in order to be sources of hope, understanding, and strength for each other. Matt’s honesty, while heavy at times, is very refreshing and clarity amid the chaos that can be my thought process.

Saga by Brian K. Vaughan and Fiona Staples – My siblings have been graphic novel readers for many years. In all those years I know they tried on numerous occasions to convince me to read them too. In my fear of not reading a “real book” and reading something “childish” I deprived myself of many years’ worth of fun and engaging reading in the world of comics. Saga was the first graphic novel I read, and it ignited my imagination and joy for the medium. I love fantasy and sci-fi. I love art. I love reading. I love Saga. Saga is all of those plus it’s cheeky and filled with humor. I haven’t finished the series yet because I read them slowly… I don’t want the series to be over too soon! Don’t let outside influences fool you…reading comics is reading.

I Capture the Castle by Dodie Smith – I was tricked into reading this! When I was a teenager I didn’t read very widely or diversely. I read fantasy and more fantasy. Then the occasional school assigned book that landed me more in the historical fiction genre as a secondary comfort zone. One summertime visit to my Gran’s in Ohio and a stop at our favorite local shop there, had me picking up this book. The green and yellow wallpaper design drew me in, but even more so was the shout out on the cover from J.K. Rowling. (By the way, I rarely read what books are about because I think summaries are written in such a spoiling fashion. I count on good covers, I know terrible, and Freddy to help me find out if I’ll like something.) Well a J.K. Rowling quote on the cover and the word ‘Castle’ in the title definitely sets this story up to be a fantastical one! Not so much, but nonetheless I persisted and fell in love. Dodie Smith writes a strong voice for a coming of age story. I love her word usage and the book is filled with quotable wisdoms. The quirkiness of Cassandra’s family is something to warm your heart to and find kindred spirits on many levels. I once had a friend compare me to Cassandra after I gifted him with the book and I thought I would squeal of said honor.

C.S. Lewis Biography – This biography stands out for me for a number of reasons. I don’t typical like or read Christian Fiction of Non-Fiction. When I was a Sophomore my Mum’s curriculum for literature was a biography and a book by the author. This specific biography really impacted the way I perceived my own faith at the time. Reading about Lewis’ turning points and his fascination with heaven were very grounding for my teenage years. The fear of the unknown has always been a trigger for me, but to read how at peace he was with heaven will be something I never forget. Also as someone raised in a faith based home, I believe it is important to read testimonies/backgrounds that are not similar (and ‘perfect’ at first sight) to your own. Diversity of all types is imperative for growth.

The Historian by Elizabeth Kostova – This is another book that made me feel like I was a grown-up and had arrived because I picked it up when I was younger, and it wasn’t my normal reading. My friend had brought it back from a trip and I was instantly intrigued by the cover. This book is dense. I know that turns some people off, so much so the audiobook is abridged to cut out ‘unnecessary’ elements (which personally annoys the hell out of me). As you can see from my own writing, I love detail. I enjoy immersive stories and elements that you know were researched to the gills all for the delight of a story, a fictional one at that. I cannot say too much without spoiling this story, but I can say it is a more mature ‘National Treasure’ paired with folklore/history of ‘Dracula’.

A Long Fatal Love Chase by Louisa May Alcott – It may surprise many who know me to see this Alcott book on my list instead of ‘Little Women’. Alcott is my favorite author. Almost 60% of one my bookcases in dedicated to books by and about her. While I love ‘Little Women’ and all the memories it holds for me, I know ultimately it was not what Alcott wanted to write. Years ago the copy of ‘A Long Fatal Love Chase’ that Freddy and I came across looked more like a mix between a thriller and sizzling mass market romance. Freddy read it first and we still to this day talk about how we didn’t believe it could possibly be by Alcott. While the story itself isn’t earth shattering, for me it is the idea behind it. The idea that Louisa still found a way to write what she wanted to write. This book still found a way to survive in the shadow of ‘Little Women’ all these years later. It is a story I enjoyed and Louisa’s influence continues to be in my life. That I may write, write what I NEED to write, and for it to endure in one form or another.

Stay with Me by Ayọ̀bámi Adébáyọ̀ -

"I was armed with millions of smiles. Apologetic smiles, pity-me smiles, I-look-unto-God smiles---name all the fake smiles needed to get through an afternoon with a group of people who claim to want the best for you while poking at your open sore with a stick---and I had them ready."

From it’s ‘simple’ orange cover to quotes like the above, this story’s subtlety and ability to shock grasped at my heart and held on. The story could have go on and on and I would not have shied away from reading it. While heavy with thought (and subject matter) and intention, Ayọ̀bámi writes so masterfully. I’m writing this right now and thinking I need to read it again. I am so struck by her writing. I also am indebted to her because after finishing I wanted more and it sent me on a path to find more Nigerian writers, whom I love too.

Gift from the Sea by Anne Morrow Lindbergh – When my grandmother was dying, we read this book out loud together. We would discuss and talk about her life after each chapter. We would talk about the shape of the shell we were living in right at that moment. I did not love everything about this book because many instances Anne spoke from a level of privilege I have never experienced and that can leave a taste not so pleasant. However, for the memories it has for me and its ability to have so much to ponder, I find this book a very valuable one. The way she writes about nature feels like my childhood and how my Mum taught us to look at the world around us.

Letters to a Young Poet by Rainer Maria Rilke – I probably talk about this book too much. For such a little book it certainly houses much wisdom. I recently read the letters on my Instagram and was struck anew by things I hadn’t been the first time. I know because this is the first book I have ever allowed myself to write in (aside from my Bible). There were parts that brought me to tears anew that I hadn’t underlined previously. I imagine Rilke calmly sitting in a corner as he observes the world and embraces his failures and struggles as growth. This book of letters holds something different for each reader and therein lies its value.

#to be read #books to read #book list #readers #date me list #reading #impact #books

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shadowporcupine · 6 years

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Eras don’t have an attitude.

Time travelers have an attitude towards eras.

It’s actually amazing how many problems in the world trace back to people trying to think like time travelers. I noticed awhile ago that lots of people seem to think we should be “further along” than we are now, in the apparent progression of the human condition. Obviously all the things we want to think we’re capable of aren’t actually things we’re capable of yet, or we’d have done them by now. Bills, jobs, time to interact. Whatever it is in life that stops us from contributing to that evolution, stops us. History couldn’t have happened any sooner than it did, and our concept of privilege is nonsense. Every moment in history is the most complex moment in history. Everything we do leads to the social processes and social progress that ultimately makes the world a better place for future generations. Every step in the process has to occur, or you end up with equality and resource gaps that send us right back to our worst natures and revive the perils of their corresponding time periods.

What is wrong with us? Where does this tendency to see a complex multiphasic global process as a singular polity that's somehow supposed to be able to intercommunicate optimally with all its disparate inner parts come from? No government in the history of time has ever had that quality. No religions has ever been nearly that consistent. No ideal has ever been set up to embrace the idea that you can’t treat us all as one singular optimal omnipolity. Everything and everyone seems to want to treat us all as one thing, when it’s obvious, at least in retrospect, that we aren’t.

But that’s exactly where that type of thought process comes from: The future. A retrospective analysis of history. It’s too large and too complex to just teach it how it really is, so we end up writing short executive overviews that end up assuming history somehow is a conscious and intentional process on the part of all the peoples of all moments of the past. Maybe there’s a causality to this. Maybe there’s a right way to learn about remote regions that has been universally corrupted in the human psyche. Except I know it hasn’t.

Rumors of native tribes that have a word in their language for the mental illness of the white man are enough. Even if the rumors were pure fabrication, it’s conceptible. Many Western philosophers have noted a profound sickness in modern man, or perceived society. The idea that there’s something wrong with us on a level we can’t quite perceive is by no means a new one. But it’s more than that. I can see it. I can see the causality of our bias, where it’s thickest, why it happens. Who wants it the most. It’s visible, apparent, obvious, and uniquely Western. It’s the reason we fought against the rise of Communism and the Nazis. We perceive agency whether it’s there or not.

The Tao that can be named is not the eternal Tao, but anything that can think can be given a name, and we can imagine that anything can be made to think.

Even now my language tends in an agent direction; the patterns and agency we see in history are difficult to discuss in terms of pure philosophy. A true discussion would necessitate bringing up all the intimate details of the peoples of the times thus criticized, and I legitimately believe that people can’t process the applied logic of Communism without turning dictatorial and controlling in all the regular abusive ways. If this is the cost of living together, if your willingness to go to war over mere ideals is so high, then maybe that’s not a cost I want to pay. (And before you ask; no. I won’t seek refuge from the perils of human life in any human religion.) I mean it’s a good idea; the people who actually perform the labor should be recognized as the true owners of the means of production. Up to a point. Everything changes when the factory produces weapons. Now it doesn’t seem like such a bright idea for one type of worker to own the means of production and its corresponding military might. We go to war, half of us, for that exact reason: To stop weapons factories from spreading the ideals of the people holding the weapons.

There’s something I like to do with dystopias. I like to immerse myself in these hypothetical worlds and ask myself what I’d do to change it, if it really is not to my liking. (ie., if my ideals are actually real and could even apply to such a world.) In this instance, if I were forced to work at a weapons factory, I’d sooner die than create a weapon for someone else. Simple. I wouldn’t want to exist in such a world, so if that world wants to reject my existence from within it, then everyone is happy. This is not to say that there aren’t valid reasons I would make a weapon or could be made to participate in that process voluntarily, but I would never blindly produce something without some inkling of understanding about how it’ll eventually be used. In the end I always have sole control over the shape of the cog I’d take in any given system. The world being able to function without me is a feature, not a bug.

It seems as if abstract, but it really isn’t. There are people out there who would want me to be a weapons manufacturer or designer. I’m sure they would do anything in their power to get me on their side, but it all ultimately comes down to that: They don’t have any real power. Short of mind control, you can’t force me to pick a side. I’ll always search for the peaceful resolution, the chance to talk to the right people to get our differences straightened out in a mutually beneficial manner. Everyone else might feel like picking a side is the easiest thing in the world, (or else the easiest thing in human society) but I can’t. Give me access to the right people and I’m sure I can make them feel like picking the side they’re currently on is the hardest thing in the world.

I don’t want to have to talk everyone down, but more to the point: I don’t have that power. I can only wield my command of absolute neutrality, and spread it like a virus to the people around me. Anything else makes me a murderer by proxy, at least by my own standards. But that’s not realistic. (I’m lying; it really is. Beware my all-consuming neutrality. It’s coming.) The world is entitled to its own cultural premises and ideals, and that’s ultimately what I love about it. It’s not the best thing to acknowledge, but if we mean to examine history in its actual context, it must be accepted at all times. Anything else invokes executive bias.

I seek to divide myself from the equation wherever possible, but many times I find that I just can’t. I’m human, same as anyone else, and ultimately I write these posts for a reason. But an analysis of history shouldn’t be some personal essay on how I live my life among other people. Or maybe that’s exactly what it needs to be, to be relatable or relevant or emotionally charged. Something that makes it bind in the mind and will never be forgotten once it’s heard.

It’s awful, it really is. I can’t stand the fact that I have to make this decision. I’m writing this for the sake of all humanity, or all cultures, at all times and all places. I want to believe in humanity, but it scares me. It’s potential for evil, as well as its penchant for causing evil while seeking what it considers “good.” The only constant in all of this is that the larger a group of people becomes, the more dilute its capacity to practice its principles without becoming hypocritical and betraying its most basic values. Even Confucius stop saying things eventually. It’s my decision to make, what I’ll say, what impact I want to try to have. I know this essay will have an effect, but to what degree? And most importantly, why?

I can’t decide to speak out because I believe in humanity. That’s not good enough. Whatever scale my ideals grow to, that’s not enough. I’ll have to look the crying wives in their eyes as they curse my name over their dying children. The impact my words can have cannot be overlooked. My decision isn’t to have an influence, but to delegate and defer the decision itself; I write what I write so that you may use it however you wish. For whatever good or evil cultural means you people seek to seek. I will expose my knowledge and perspective to the world only in that I recognize that it was the world’s decision to make, not my own. What evils and weapons I spawn by my pen, I take responsibility for only in recognizing that it was not my responsibility to control everyone’s perception of history. Then, only then, can I look her dying child in the eyes and say, “This was my fault.” Because I’m only human. As human as the rest.

I guess this is what I takes to overcome that bias. I, as you will, have to accept all that has come before and all that will come after. I cannot consider it my place to judge the peoples and cultures of the world as worthy or unworthy, or evil or good, or misguided or competent. Each person has that power of decision on their own, apart from what I do or influence, and my sole capacity is to ensure with maximum clarity that you will be able to see those decisions and their corresponding actions in their true context. Their real context.

I’ve decided, I want to see that. I want to see the world where our perception of history becomes uncolored, and all the good and evil and perils that follow from it. I want to see the world though non-executive eyes, as it comes to see itself through non-executive eyes. I want to see the world where everything happens because the people doing the things they did were informed and aware. I want to see the truth of human nature, not this cloudy, polluted atmosphere of agent bias. I want to see humanity in all its complexity, whether its nature is diluted or compounded by my message. I want to have seen and known how it all played out in the end. I want to see history.

I want to see the anger, bitterness and hatred, sorrow and pain in your eyes when you reach for that weapon after the last breath of life leaves your child’s body.

If that were the truth.

No, it’s all so twisted. That’s really just my ideal. No, the truth of this world is that you’ll send your sons off to war because they welcome it. You’ll grieve for your daughters, but honor your sons. Whatever politician misspoke, whoever is responsible for starting it, whoever felt slighted or outcast. All the authors with all their pens, none will be held accountable. You’ll never see the pain. I’ll, never see your pain. It is all taken for granted, and when it’s taken from you, that, too, is taken for granted. The sorrow of the world is in never seeing what you’ve done to it.

The truth is, I haven’t killed anyone. I won’t be held responsible. Whatever I did, even if I were to confess my sins to you, you either wouldn’t understand or would readily forgive me because my blame, my fault is so low in comparison to all the others who had a hand in what happened. You grieve for both, but you honor your sons because it is perceived that your daughters didn’t need to volunteer to fight alongside them. I would have you not have to grieve, if I could, if I had so much power, but I can’t, I don’t. Your choice, their choice, all choices, are their own. I can’t choose for everyone, near as I often wish I could.

We’re all accountable, so none of us are. We’re all human, so none of us are. We all have so much to offer, so none of us can. We all have everything we need, so we need for nothing. While others starve. Because we’re not all in this together, and our poetry itself becomes a weapon. Skewing our perception in hopes of a unity we can never reach. I am not responsible, much as the Basilisks of the world would hope to some day hold me to.

It is by my own profession that I say: That’s not good enough.

Eras do not have an attitude; time travelers have attitudes toward eras.

How much does your attitude color your perspective? How much does your perspective color your attitude? How much of your attitude reflects in those who do not understand how your perspective is colored? How much of the attitude your observe is your own perspective colored back at you? How much color, can you really see?

I am a time traveler, but not the kind everyone wants me to be. I travel history in a purely observational sense; I look, without transmitting. I see, withing visiting. I know, without watching. I observe in my mind, in ways that would sooner sever the soul than acknowledge what really exists. I see through introspection, through what I would or could become, in another time and place, and what kind of person really exists there.

But you can’t see me, see me.

See me, seeing you.

The time travel I do can never be observed, unless I choose to speak about it. Only I can record my observations, because only I can see inside my mind. Only I can see into my soul.

But that you would listen.

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adventures-in-transmania · 4 years

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Let’s talk about misgendering. I know I’ve addressed this before. It used to be a constant sore spot from the time I came out to the time I started passing as male.

High school was a joke. I knew I was trans at that point. I was reluctant to talk about it with the cisgender male friends I had, seeing as they weren’t exactly supportive about the name I preferred to go by. Online was a welcome reprieve, I didn’t have to show my face, I could talk to people. I felt bad about ‘lying’ for some time to some pretty decent friends, however, once I actually talked to them about /why/ I did it, they became the most supportive people in my life at that time. I’m not quite sure what would have happened without them. My family wasn’t the best, I’m sure I’ve gone over that repeatedly.

I got to college where a classmate brought me into their circle of friends, most of which happened to be queer. Even those who weren’t were super supportive (or certainly knew how to pretend to be-again, another sore spot that I’ve gone over repeatedly). It was nice. I didn’t realize that initially and introduced myself as my deadname by wrong pronouns. I had to reintroduce myself and while some people didn’t understand why I didn’t just do that in the first place, they went right along with it, just like they did with the several other people who did the same. I was so used to going by my legal name, by my legal pronouns, I didn’t think I could do anything else. The name thing was something to get used to, not only for those around me but for myself as well. The pronouns, people kept apologizing. They still do sometimes. A quick apology is okay. Ideally, just the correction is necessary. I misgendered myself and deadnamed myself so often at first. I have talked to trans people who had the same issue, I’ve talked to trans people who said they’d known for as long as they can remember and didn’t have this issue. It depends on the person.

In high school and for the first part of college, I wasn’t really all that dysphoric about the lack of facial hair, my body shape, my voice, etc, etc. Hell, I was okay with never starting hormone therapy. It wasn’t a sore spot. I was still all for top surgery; breasts just get in the way, tbh. But it was expensive and I didn’t have the necessary support.

However, after going to counseling, talking to some other trans people (one trans woman in particular, tbh), a switch got flipped and suddenly I was aware in a way that was much more painful. I wanted the flat chest, I wanted everything that would make people think I passed as male without question. A peer referred to me as ‘he’ for the first time without saying ‘she’ first and things just /clicked/. I felt relief and anxiety. I felt gender euphoria. By that point, I believe I was in the process of legally changing my name. The university had quite the time with it, but the professors seemed to not remember me from the first two years I spent being quiet, so they seemed to have an easy time adjusting. My advisor, I’m pretty sure didn’t even come to know me as my deadname.

I realized I wasn’t genderfluid or non-binary. I was a transgender man. I invested in a binder. The first time I put it on, I’m pretty sure I cried or came very close to it. I was still hiding this stuff from my parent, because of a lack of support. I would bind occasionally to start with, it wasn’t a necessity. Everyone around me knew I had breasts, it was kind of hard to hide DD boobs. I wasn’t supposed to start HRT while living with my parent and grandmother, so I got a bit depressed, believing there was no hope of ever achieving that goal. It wasn’t a big deal before, but now it was. It was becoming a chore to explain to people around me that just because I appeared to be a woman, I wasn’t. I wasn’t good at confrontation. My friends were great (well, except for some instances, but again, beating a dead, traumatized horse). I relied heavily on their support, their attempts at not misgendering me, at not deadnaming me. I had a classmate that graduated with me from high school that I thought would pose a problem, but he was fantastic. I know it was harder on him than the rest, considering he’d known me from such a young age, since before we had a concept of gender, part of living in a small town, and he lived probably 2000 ft away from me for the majority of our lives, not that we were close.

At work, I had several older women who tried their hardest. My department manager wasn’t the best, but the effort was made and I could not ask anything more. She was infamous for the long apology, the one I’ve come to hate. It’s nothing personal, I promise, but every trans person knows it takes time and effort. You do not need to go into the whole speech. We’ve heard it before. Hell, most of us have said it before, whether it be to ourselves or others. We understand it takes time. We understand that you met us under different circumstances and that it’s hard to change your perception of us. But the more you do it, the less you have to think about it. Whether it be name or pronouns, the more you make the effort to refer to someone with the correct pronouns, even if it doesn’t match your perception of us, it will come more naturally and eventually you won’t even have to try! How do I know? Because I looked in the mirror, compared myself to every other cisgender male I saw, pointed out all of the areas people would consider feminine or masculine. I analyzed every move, every thought I had. I categorized things as masculine or feminine (in a very binary way of thinking, which is harmful in of itself). I nitpicked myself. I practiced and practiced. No matter what I did though, I couldn’t change my voice, my breasts, my first impressions on people. They perceived me as a woman and I could not change that, no matter how I acted. I could see how trans men fall into the toxic masculinity thing, and I did myself on some instances. I’m trying my best to be better now, but it’s easier when you pass.

I worked in customer service. I didn’t correct customers because they saw me once and that was it. It was pointless. So I got misgendered a fuckton. It hurt, sure. But I forgot about it, most of the time. I tried talking to my transgender parent about it and got indifference or the argument “they couldn’t possibly know,” as if I didn’t already know that. I was looking to them for support, not for them to defend everyone else. I knew logically it made sense, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt any less. It didn’t mean I didn’t deserve support from someone who I thought would get it.

The rare instances I’d get gendered correctly would make my fuckin’ week. I’d be happy the rest of the day. Getting misgendered was just another ‘eh, whatever’ moment, especially at work, or for anyone just meeting me for the first time. I had classes I was out in and my peers were rather great with discussion. I particularly remember touching on trans issues in sociology and having great discussions with a variety of people. They corrected their pronoun usage once they realized I may have looked like a woman, but I outed myself as a trans man.

In my experience, women had a much easier time with the acceptance. I had a handful of men who also accepted me, but women seemed to have less of an issue. I felt more comfortable around men in middle and high school, just because I got along better with them. But after that, women felt safer. Whether they perceived me as a woman or as a transgender man, I felt safer in their presence rather than men.

In the same vein as the legal name and pronouns, I had issues with restrooms. I felt uncomfortable using women’s public restrooms and I felt forbidden to use men’s rooms. The incident with my cisgender men who called themselves friends and who I considered supportive certainly destroyed any progress I’d made. There were times, I’d either put it off or walk across campus just to use the one single stall restroom. I felt uncomfortable having to use a stall every time. It was bad. I left college in June of 2018. I stopped talking to pretty much everyone from college at that point. I stopped counseling.

Before that, however, I left my job with some supportive coworkers. I talked so openly about being trans, those who weren’t supportive were surrounded by people who were. I was terrified. I left this job to take one with my aunt, who didn’t know I was trans, who didn’t really keep in contact with me.

I started in August of 2018. By the end of October, I walked into an appointment I had with specialty care and got my first shot of T, unbeknownst to my parent, my grandmother, my aunt, my current workplace, which I’d only been at for a few months. I wanted to come out before that. I needed to. I was so tired of being misgendered and just broken down. It hurt and I had nowhere to go with that hurt, no one to talk to, no one who got it. My conservative aunt didn’t know, I worked with many older people, older men especially. I was terrified. I couldn’t talk to my transgender parent about it because I’d get the whole speech “you have to understand...” I understood! They didn’t know any better. When I tried to talk to them about anything regarding trans issues, it was them making excuses for cis people. Like, I get it, cis people can’t be expected to suddenly ‘get’ it, but I sought out to complain to another trans person who I thought would get it. The fact I didn’t even have that outlet, it was discouraging, to say the least. If another trans person, if my parent didn’t ‘get’ it, what chance was someone else going to?

I started HRT and suddenly it wasn’t an option anymore. They’d notice. I needed to be out. I should have told my aunt first, I shouldn’t have taken the job without telling her, I shouldn’t have taken the job without telling /them/, them being my three male managers. I was terrified.

I talked to my parent about it. They offered no advice. They left the option up to me. To be fair, I didn’t give them an option with the HRT. I wasn’t supposed to start it while living with them and I did. They were disappointed I didn’t tell them prior, but I think I would have made the same decision given the circumstances. Their condition was that I shave if necessary and keep my voice high for my grandmother (the second of which I did not do, but it didn’t seem to make a difference, she didn’t notice that).

I wore a button at first that said “ask me about my pronouns” or “use male pronouns.” It was a big store that day. At the end of the day, I came out to my aunt, who said “niece, nephew, it doesn’t matter,” which was nice at the time. It was definitely a response I didn’t expect to get, but was happy about. I wasn’t really someone the managers were keeping tabs on, so it flew under the radar for quite some time. In November of 2018, probably a month or two after I came out to my aunt, I was a passenger to a travel store with another coworker (a team leader) who I apparently felt comfortable enough to address the issue with. He’d helped me more than any other person at this job and seemed like a decent guy. I figured he’d at least understand the dilemma I had, given other circumstances. I either didn’t use the women’s restroom and avoided the men’s room, or got over my anxiety (thanks “friends”) and insisted I use the men’s room. It wouldn’t have been bad, but I worked with so many different people in so many different places. A lot of the places didn’t have gender neutral options and I didn’t want to make my coworkers uncomfortable. However, after starting HRT, it was clear I would eventually pass to our clients and it would become unsafe to use the women’s restroom, if that was what they agreed upon. Luckily, I live in NY where the state law is people are able to use the restroom of their gender identity, thank you NYC. Unfortunately NYC doesn’t offer protection up in our very conservative area. When you pass several Trump 2020 signs in small towns, you feel a little unsafe as a transgender individual.

This coworker offered what I would have considered unconditional support. He even offered to talk to our managers on my behalf. While I asked him not to, as I thought I should be the one to talk to them about it, he did anyways and it made it somewhat less awkward. He was sooo god damned supportive, more so than any other cisgender man in my life offline had ever been. I went into our office probably a week later to talk to the three managers about it, only to have the wind taken out of my sails when they said he had already brought it to their attention and it shouldn’t pose an issue. I had spent an entire week planning what I would say in my defense, because that’s how I thought. In my last job, my manager offered to put a lock on the men’s room so I’d feel comfortable, which I never took her up on. This wasn’t exactly an option in this job and my managers didn’t seem to have ever worked with other trans individuals, so they wouldn’t have really had the forethought or sensitivity training like my last manager to have thought of something like that.

It still wasn’t exactly that easy. I didn’t want to cause issues so I would keep an eye out to make sure no one else from our company would be in there before using the restroom. It was torturous at times, it was unfair, to be completely honest. I hated that I had to do it, I hated that I felt the need to do it, I hated that one person who made me feel so uncomfortable in male spaces that I still, despite passing quite well (I haven’t gotten misgendered by a stranger in months) STILL have minor anxiety about using men’s restrooms. I’m getting better, but I still brace myself for the confrontation that may occur. I’ve had several male workers who have either seen me exit the men’s room or been in there with me but haven’t caused an issue. I have a handful of circumstances I remember in particular. One being an older gentleman having no issue seeing me come out of the men’s room. I don’t think I ever came out to him, but he didn’t even hesitate. I was terrified he’d have an issue with it, but he just treated me as he usually did, nice as could be. I’m pretty sure he stopped referring to me with she/her after that. Another instance I waited to make sure another male coworker wasn’t going in on break because he would always refer to me as she or her. That supervisor, the one who’d shown “unconditional acceptance,” followed me in not thirty seconds later. I had a slight panic attack. I wasn’t exactly ‘passing’ at that time, and it was certainly another coworker, not a stranger. I couldn’t help but think back to that time with ‘friends’ where they were okay with it until suddenly they were faced with the reality that they would be sharing ‘male spaces’ with me and suddenly they weren’t okay with it. I didn’t want to, I couldn’t go through that again, not with the one person at this job who seemed to not only accept me but was able to talk about serious stuff like that, while somehow making it seem a lot less serious. I waited as long as I felt socially acceptable before exiting the stall and proceeded to wash my hands and leave.

Skipping ahead to probably a couple months ago, that same supportive coworker (ally, if anyone deserves that title) got excited over someone gendering me correctly. This, after months of people gendering me correctly. It was still super validating and kind of him. It was nice to see someone else excited over a source of gender euphoria for me. I may have brushed it off at the time because of course others who hadn’t met me before were calling me by male pronouns, I passed well enough. But I think it’s harder for those who met me with their perception of being a woman. I don’t think they’re able to see past that perception as easily as people who didn’t have that perception to begin with. That’s why I don’t mind too much if my coworkers misgender me occasionally, as long as it’s followed by a correction, no apology necessary. I get it, you met me and thought I was a woman, and I didn’t correct you then. However, if you don’t correct yourself, you will get me correcting you. I’m done being misgendered mercilessly in front of clients, ESPECIALLY when I’m the one running the inventory. I know I pass well enough to clients, I haven’t been misgendered by clients in probably ~8 months, unless they hear one of my coworkers say something.

That leads me to today. Since 2020 started, I’ve been rather aggressive in correcting people about pronoun usage. I was quiet before, to the point that people may not have heard me. However, I now have facial hair and a pretty deep voice. I’ve been passing for at least 6 months now. They’ve had time. If you do not correct yourself, I will loudly do so for you. So, I’ve had rather very little sleep in the last week or so, working and all. I was a bit manic this morning. An older gentleman misgendered me (not the first time, probably won’t be the last) and I corrected him rather publicly (”I’m not a girl, thank you!”) in front of several coworkers. The supervisor, that ally I mentioned earlier, came up to me probably 30-60 minutes later, apologizing for that guy. I had no clue what he was talking about originally. I was over it after two minutes. After being misgendered for 6-8 years, it’s not something you hold close to your heart. He asked if I wanted to know, I, of course, said yes. After he informed me, I felt the need to explain some things. I’ve never had someone apologize for someone else. Especially a cisgender man apologize for some other cisgender man. I’ve talked to this supervisor about some personal things, too, and I like to think he gets it to the extent that he can, just like I can sympathize, but not entirely understand the things he’s got going on. It’s an understanding that I don’t have with many other people. It’s nice in that environment. I’m not sure why he felt the need to apologize, maybe the fact I was so loud about it, but I wasn’t exactly “upset” by it. Rather, I want the correction to be made, because then hopefully he’ll correct himself next time, and the time after that, there may not even need to be a correction. He seemed to think I took it to heart that this person misgendered me when 1. this person misgenders me a lot, 2. I expect this person to misgender me a lot, and 3. I take it to heart every time a person misgenders me. I mean, sure, if certain people were to begin to misgender me, yeah, it would hurt, especially after all the time they put into not misgendering me. But this guy is not and will not be one of them. It was such an insignificant event but I guess my response went above what was expected? Despite being told that my response was completely valid? It was just an odd exchange, although I still appreciated that thought and the fact he listened to my reasoning. That person had no reason to apologize on behalf of someone else, though. I’m rather sorry he felt the need to.

#Misgendering #Mention: HRT #Hey work sucks I know #Real life #Family and coworkers

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