#POEMS THAT HAVE EMOTIONALLY DAMAGED ME | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

muzzleroars · 7 months

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I remember you saying that the angels had a Jellyfish style brain but that got me thinking,

Can they regenerate limbs after they've been lost? For example an angel looses their arm would it regenerate in a few months/years? Or with their holy light could they just make a replacement? Like a limb made out of the same stuff their wings and halos are.

On a different angel connected anatomy note, I've always imagined their wings being significantly more fragile then the rest of their body's. Like at one point i think you said that their wings and halos are the first part they loose after their fall.

Henceforth, maybe the wings and halo's are pure light

i think the physical form of the angels in ultrakill is sort of intriguing, given that the game shows us that blood is the great equalizer (we all bleed, even gods) and there is a distinct physicality imo to the universe presented here as a whole. this world, while being non-euclidean in nature, is also sharply concrete, and the angels to me operate on a similar principle to that of hell - they have a physical form that can be felt, can interact, and can be damaged, but are not set whatsoever. they have a base form that was given by god and the higher up the angel, the closer that form comes to the typical "humanoid" mold (or, as angels conceive it, god's image), yet they have a wonderful capacity to twist and change it as needs must. this is only hindered by them having a limited amount of ethereal "clay" that they can work with (divine fire made into flesh, with sparks running through their muscles and licks lighting over their organs), so losing a limb is still losing a limb. they can't regenerate it on their own, but an angel gifted in healing can easily re-attach the limb - raphael is the best doctor of heaven, and within god's power there is really no wound or affliction he can't repair save death itself. i just like the idea that nothing in this world can escape the bounds of the material despite angels believing themselves to be above such things and that a body, whether made of cells or fire or metal, has limits and is not merely something that contains a soul but is wholly part of the living organism it makes up. they are all their bodies, and even angels must take care of their physical selves as best they can.

and yes!! the halo and wings whither away from fallen angels with the wings first losing their ability to fly and becoming exceptionally painful, then the halo gradually deteriorating as their fallen traits begin to appear. to NO ONE'S surprise, this is influenced by paradise lost - at the beginning of the poem, lucifer is still crowned with his "glory", or his halo, and he appears scarred but virtually the same after falling to hell. however, by the time he infiltrates the garden of eden, his halo has faded and his appearance has changed so much, the angels who first capture him no longer recognize him (satan ridicules them for this, but it is in fact gabriel who points out it's not their fault, as satan is nearly unrecognizable as lucifer by now) BUT otherwise i did want "fallen" to be literal, and i think of an angel's wings as supremely important to them, with flight being their actual primary mode of movement. i also did think of them as being made purely from their divine light too and so could no longer stay in an angel who's light has been taken - what remains of gabriel's in the au for a time is a sort of afterimage, turned black and white as they are no longer "alive" and so no longer operate physically or emotionally (ie, they no longer reflect his emotions) gabriel can still utilize his wings for a time, but only in very short bursts and with great agony, but they eventually must retire as they fade away to skeletal remains.

#it's something i really like about the world in this game tbh #it's all taking place on this divine scale #but it remains stubbornly physical in nature #like. it's all the same. weird and fucked up but the same nonetheless #even angels are something physical in this world #they have their light and they can teleport and they can make constructs #but even abstract virtues have a body that bleeds #so the physical and the divine are linked in this world imo #cake answers

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300iqprower · 9 months

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Hypothetical Rank Ups No. 86-88: Jing Ke

[Okay I know I usually do these in order of Passive - S1 - S2 - S3 - NP, followed by the same priority of the less necessary "EX" rank ups, but I'm gonna move the S1 to last for this because it's a complete ground-up rework that'll take a lot of explaining. So instead it'll be Passive - S3 - NP - S1]

New Passive:

Qin Slayer (Augmented) -Apply Special ATK [Qin] to self (33%). -Immune to Immobilization from [Qin] enemy skills. ((Unlocks after clearing Lostbelt No.3 Section 13))

Self Explanatory really. Honestly EVERY assassin deserves an Oberon style ??? unique skill that reflects the kill(s) that made them famous, particularly since it allows a way to offset the natural damage penalty assassins have to deal with...even though they're, ya know, specialized killers. 33% effectively brings the damage up from a base .9 to a base 1.2, which I think is a fitting enough offset. The immobilization immune is reflective of how things went the second time around between the two in Lb3.

Insolent A -> Insolence Towards the Sun

Increase own Quick Card effectiveness (3 times, 3^ turns).^ Increase own Critical Strength (3 times, 3 turns^). Gain Class Affinity half-advantage against [Ruler] class (3 turns). [Quick scaling increased to 20-40%]

Pretty simple here. As always i cannot overstate how bad Quick has it, and that's made even worse when the only quick buff you have is both 1 turn AND only a max of 30%, so we're raising that slightly to 40% (but with the same base amount of 20%, to place more emphasis on leveling the skill to get its worth) and making both the critical and the quick buff split from one turn, to three attacks across 3 turns. Same number of hits, but with much more flexibility, and that flexibility is needed because if you're using Jing Ke as intended then the new effect makes it so you want this skill active as often as possible, emphasizing individual precise strikes that rely on both specific color and criticals rather than a constant boost to strength

Now against ruler enemies, Jing Ke gains both offensively and defensively the 1.5x advantage that extra classes typically get (such as what Rulers have defending against the standard non-berserker classes, or Alter Egos have when attacking cavalry classes). When combined with their new passive this also means they have near full advantage against any Ruler enemy with the Qin trait at. How oddly specific. 1.8x base damage means by default they're just as effective at taking out a certain peacocking emperor as any berserker, but without the berserker's weak defenses.

Name wise, I'm particularly proud of this one. Not just with the parallel's to Jing Ke's recurring connection to the moon through their poems, but also just the idea of that idea of "Insolent towards authority" taking up a few notches in scale to match them standing up to the "one true human". The idea of standing up to something that's all encompassing and omnipresent, that is the center of the universe, something that is unfathomably bigger than oneself, and still managing to defy it.

All I Do is Kill B+ -> EX-

Deal significant damage to a single enemy. Grants self On-Death buff (2 turns). [Activates First] - When defeated, Decrease NP Gauge by 2 and inflict Stun on a single enemy (1 turn). Reduce your HP by 2000^. [Demerit] [Caution: This can kill Jing Ke if her HP is below 2000!] <Overcharge> Medium chance to apply Death for a single enemy.^ Gain Critical Stars.v Restore a large amount of NP Gauge to yourself. [NP Refund scales with overcharge at 20/28/35/43/50%. Instant Death chance scaling increasing to 50/75/100/125/150%. On Death debuffs will default to last enemy to attack Jing Ke, or failing that the rightmost enemy. If Jing Ke dies from her own NP and the target survives, these effects are applied to the surviving target.]

God Jing Ke's NP ticks me off. Such an emotionally moving concept, such a significant event, and it's just....a mediocre damage single hit NP whose main use might as well be generating a star bomb. I'm not saying its the only NP like that but god it's the one that's always irked me since day 1. So yeah, this one had a LOT of rewrites before I finally settled on what it ended up as.

The damage is unchanged, and we're also getting one of the rare times I'm nerfing the base abilities by bringing the number of crit stars down by 10 to 10/15/20/25/30. Not only was this effect redundant, given they're a triple quick unit with a star bomb skill already, but anything I want to give this NP would be too much if I let them generate THAT many stars, and I very much want to take things in a different direction. You could frankly argue that I should just get rid of the star bomb on NP entirely and the only reason I'm not is because while Jing Ke is a triple quick assassin with a Quick Np on top of that, they have the dreaded year 1 hitcounts - including a 1-hit NP - meaning they're completely gimped for both NP and Star generation So on the subject of NP generation, that's why they get a massive refund on their NP now that effectively makes them Assassin Medea in terms of NP spam, with the same base refund and significantly lower but still notable scaling with overcharge (7.5% as opposed to an entire additional 20% per level). Oh and her other overcharge effect is getting buffed but to have double the level scaling, but...well It's an instant death effect so whatever. So let's just move onto the hook of all this!

Put simply, Jing Ke now has 500-Year Old Obsession on steroids directly built into their NP. Rather than 2 turns NP seal and a useless DOT though, it instead immediately reduces charge by 2, which depending on the situation could be much more or much less useful AND it also ensures it doesnt make the CE obsolete AND even more than that allows the two to stack with each other should you so choose to orchestrate that scenario. Of course, this comes at a cost. The NP actually has a second nerf compared to before....though depending on how you view it, it might not actually be a nerf. Jing Ke now loses double the HP, at 2000 per NP. This combined with their new refund potential means they risk burning through their own HP, even recreating their own death as they strike out at an opponent only to die immediately after. Should they die this way, instead of being based on who last damaged them their grudge will instead target the one they used their NP on (assuming the enemy survived, otherwise it once again defaults to the rightmost enemy remaining).

SO, tldr, their np is now much less about the crit stars and more about spamming it until either Jing Ke or their target dies, and even if the former goes first it's not without the last laugh as they throw a massive wrench into any enemy plans to buy their remaining allies a moment of opportunity. Which is a perfect lead in to Jing Ke's completely reworked first skill:

Restrain A -> The Perfect Moment EX-

Increase own Critical Star Gather Rate by 200% (3 turns). Gain Critical Stars. Apply Ignore Invincible to self (1 time). Apply Evade for yourself (1 time). Apply Target Focus to all allies except self (1 turn). Apply Fated Hour (Opportunity) to self if there are at least two of this unit’s normal command cards available: -Locks currently dealt set of Command Cards (2 turns) -Decrease your Critical Star Gather Rate by 500% (1 turn). -Apply delayed buff: Increase own Quick Card Star Gathering Rate (1 turn). -Apply delayed buff: Gain Critical Stars after 1 turn. -Apply delayed buff: Increase own NP Strength after 1 turn. [10-40%] -Decrease own ATK by 35% (1 turn). [Demerit] [Skill cooldown changed to 9/8/7. Star bomb scales from 5-10, NP Strength up scales from 10-40%]

I love you deck manipulation <3 ...even if you along with the sheer number of other effects are forcing me to increase the skill cooldown by more than i'd like. But hey that's why it's a full on rework i guess. This is the first of a potentially reoccurring effect I've decided to call "Fated Hour." The general idea is Fated Hour always involves either shuffle or deck lock mechanics combined with other effects that reflect an attempt to recreate what could be seen as the servant in question's "zenith" or otherwise pivotal moment in their legend. In Jing Ke's case, they find that once in a lifetime moment to strike a seemingly untouchable enemy, and they take it. Naturally, this has the qualifier that Jing Ke must have the ability to launch a precise attack, meaning Fated Hour will only activate if at least two of Jing Ke's command cards is currently available (which in combination with an NP would mean an Extra Attack chain is available). If not, then the skill's effectiveness is drastically reduced meaning you need to actually plan this out by counting cards to get the skill's real value rather than bank on RNG.

Without Fated Hour, The Perfect Moment becomes, if nothing else, a powerful survival tool. For the current turn target focus is applied to all other allies and Jing Ke gains an evade charge for insurance against the likes of AOE NPs, as well as a single hit of Ignore Invincible for the same indefinite duration as the evade. Fated Hour wouldnt trigger simply from having an NP available, so this could be used to grant Jing Ke a temporary Ignore Invincible ST NP while they have less than the required 2 command cards available. That said, Fated Hour is clearly what everything really revolves around.

Laying in wait among their allies, Jing Ke spends the current turn preparing to strike. They decrease their star gather to nothing, both to prevent their own criticals drawing attention to themselves and to allow their allies a better crit chance. They also give up a hefty amount of their already below-par attack stat this turn in exchange for a an even heftier and much more valued NP strength buff the next turn; the aforementioned survival tools naturally exist to increase the chance they're going to make it to that next turn. This is all naturally in addition to the usual benefits of locking command cards. ...On that note, however, this is where it becomes important to count cards. The ignore invincible applies to the next attack from Jing Ke regardless of whether it is needed. This combined with the fact that fated hour requires you have at least one of Jing Ke's normal cards means in order to get maximum efficacy you'd HAVE to have no more than the minimum requirement of 2 of Jing Ke's cards available. Most of the time you won't need that ignore invincible in theory but the sheer fcking number of bosses they slap it on says otherwise but it'd certainly make dealing with a certain Ruler's NP much easier. How very fitting that they'd remain a particular challenge for Jing Ke to properly assassinate...but either way, Jing Ke will still receive a hearty buff next turn. Their actual attack stat will remain unchanged aside from the aforementioned NP buffs, and they're still reliant on their third skill for Quick and Critical buffs, but they'll have the tools to take full advantage of those buffs with a delayed activation on Restraint's original star bomb and a burst of quick-star-gather. The fact that the gather is color specific of course means there's yet another requirement to optimizing the skill, as you'd ideally need not only 2 of Jing Ke's cards, but specifically 2 of their quick cards for maximum damage. What's more, 10 stars is not enough on its own to guarantee two crits, in fact double that would be needed, so if you dont want to leave it up to chance you'll need to make sure that Jing's allies be it by card or skill can generate an additional 10 stars between turns.

This is all a very long winded way of outlining all the requirements needed to truly take advantage of ALL this skill now offers, but given all the new kit brings it's hopefully worth it. More flexible burst damage, anti-ruler F2P niche, sacrifice tactics, and now quick crit synergy with everything from ignore invincible to deck lock. I dunno if it rounds out to Ten Steps per say, but it's clear that when Jing Ke is allowed proper planning, naught will stay their pace.

#artist: JinGreyPaladin #artist: EnduranceEX #yes i am aware that Insolent is the localized version of a skill that's actually supposed to be #about Jing Ke getting drunk and violent. I dont care. I prefer to treat these characters with respect.#fgo #fgo meta #fate grand order #hypothetical rank ups #jing ke #my beloved....#without question the most time i've put into one of these since Jekyll and Hyde #i always feel like im forgetting an important tag but screw it it's 3am and ive been trying to get this out for months POST

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girlactionfigure · 1 year

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She knew she was “different,” telling her brother at one point, “What makes a few of us so different from others? It’s a question I often ask myself.”

She wrote:

“If I can stop one heart from breaking,

I shall not live in vain;

If I can ease one life the aching,

Or cool one pain,

Or help one fainting robin

Unto his nest again,

I shall not live in vain.”

She was born on December 10, 1830. She was labeled very, very shy, overly sensitive.

“Her Victorian upbringing included . . . doing domestic chores, and attending church. She spent her adolescent years studying locally at the Amherst Academy (1834–47) and at the Mount Holyoke Seminary (1847–48). Beginning at age 23, however, [she] began to withdraw from society and by the age of thirty, she became a relative recluse, spending most of her days indoors,” according to the Brooklyn Museum.

Some would say she became reclusive due either to her upbringing or from suffering from some type of illness such as agoraphobia (a disorder characterized by symptoms of anxiety in which the person afflicted perceives environments outside of the home to be uncomfortable or unsafe) or epilepsy. She was actually diagnosed during her lifetime as having "nervous prostration."

Although she had a brother and sister, she confided that her only companions were the hills, "the sundown, and a dog large as myself, that my father bought me. They are better than beings because they know, but do not tell."

There were rumors, however, that she may have loved her sister-in-law.

Many have also said she was preoccupied with death and dying, telling stories of the many people close to her who either left her or died. She would go through depressions, especially after the death of someone close, lamenting, "The Dyings have been too deep for me, and before I could raise my Heart from one, another has come."

In those instances, she would simply retreat to her room and disappear in her own little world.

No one knew what she was doing, some said she would sit for hours just writing in her notebook, about what, no one really knew.

When she finally died unknown to the rest of the world, of illness at the age of 55, at her request, her "coffin [was] not driven but carried through fields of buttercups."

Her sister had promised her she would burn all her correspondence, but she discovered a locked chest full of notebooks with nearly eighteen hundred poems. To honor her, her sister put a collection together and published the poems, one of which read:

“'Hope' is the thing with feathers -

That perches in the soul -

And sings the tune without the words -

And never stops - at all -

And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -

And sore must be the storm -

That could abash the little Bird

That kept so many warm -

I’ve heard it in the chillest land -

And on the strangest Sea -

Yet - never - in Extremity,

It asked a crumb - of me."

~~~~~

“Shy but rebellious, recluse but unapologetic and independent – she was Emily Dickinson,” wrote Rudrani Gupta in She The People.

Emily Dickinson was born 192 years ago today.

The Peace Page has shared several stories of Emily Dickinson in the past, sharing her words and her influence. This is a new story with new insights celebrating one of the world’s favorite poets. The Jon S. Randal Peace Page focuses on past and present stories seldom told of lives forgotten, ignored, or dismissed. The stories are gathered from writers, journalists, and historians to share awareness and foster understanding. You can find more stories in the Peace Page archives. We encourage you to learn more about the individuals mentioned here and to support the writers, educators, and historians whose words we present.

~~~~~

“Throughout the nineteenth century, the nation obsessed over male authors like they were rockstars. Men like Poe, Thoreau, and Hawthorne were often seen as brooding, conflicted, and emotionally damaged,” wrote Allie Little. “They played up a persona of living separate from society or suffering for the sake of their writing. At the same time, the United States had a handful of women authors being published and spread throughout the nation, but they weren’t often granted the fame and acclaim their male counterparts were. Famous American poet Emily Dickinson wrote actively during this time period, but the world never knew of her talent.”

“Emily Dickinson is considered one of the most famous poets in the history of American literature,” according to the Brooklyn Museum. “Though socially shy, she was outspoken and emotional in her lyric poetry (short poems with one speaker who expresses thought and feeling), defying the nineteenth-century expectation that women were to be demure and obedient to men. Her honest and uninhibited writing made her an early feminist voice, even as she maintained an outward appearance of submissiveness. Nearly two centuries after Dickinson’s birth, her witty and frequently subversive poems are widely read, taught, and studied.”

Little wrote:

“Being from an influential family, Emily and her siblings, Austin and Lavinia, were taught to prioritize education. Emily excelled as a student at Amherst Academy, and often attended lectures at Amherst College despite women not being allowed to enroll. As seen in her poetry, her brain absorbed information like a sponge. Her areas of interest included chemistry, botany, entomology, astronomy, and various other natural sciences. It was this study of the natural world that helped Emily put into words specific emotions that were difficult to explain in poetry.

“It was after her time in the Seminary that her reclusive habits grew. Leaving Mt. Holyoke marked the end of her formal schooling. Despite her desire to continue her education, this was the time in many young girls’ lives that they would find a husband and take on the role of housewife and mother. Meanwhile, in a letter to a friend, Emily wrote, “God keep me from what they call households.” Clearly not the housewife-type, Emily Dickinson never sought the attention of a man and had seemingly no desire to leave her father’s home to become a maid in another. Instead, Emily spent her time being a mediator and confidant for her siblings and parents.”

“Busy about the house and garden, she began to write verse. The narrow boundaries of “woman’s sphere” were deadly limitations for many women,” according to the National Women’s Hall of Fame.

“Somehow Dickinson found within herself the imaginative resources to exceed and shatter such boundaries. Although untaught and virtually unpublished during her lifetime, she became one of the greatest poets in the English language.”

“The world would not realize Dickinson’s true artistic talent until after her death,” according to the Brooklyn Museum. “After her death in 1886, her sister Lavinia uncovered almost a thousand of Dickinson’s poems bound with thread into numerous booklets.”

“Emily Dickinson died at the age of 55 in the same house she was raised in,” wrote Little. “At the time of her death, only seven of the nearly 1,800 poems she wrote in her lifetime had been published, and all of them were published anonymously. Few people in her hometown of Amherst, Massachusetts knew what she looked like, and her talent for poetry was whispered around town like a local legend rather than applauded and praised.”

~~~~~

Gupta writes:

“This American poet’s poems and distinct lifestyle as a woman embodied feminism at the time when it was still beginning to gain momentum. The most important characteristic of her poems and personal life was the affirmation of a woman’s identity, independence and agency over her life.

“Emily Dickinson was born in a family where the father was the patriarchal figure and women were expected to be confined to the kitchens. The gender roles were divided between men and women – men occupying the financial space while women were confined within marriage, religion, motherhood and domestic work.

“But what made Emily Dickinson defiant was her agency over her life, the right to have privacy and her vigour to challenge the dominant and regressive ideologies. She is known for living a recluse life, within her parental home, writing and challenging the social norms through her radical poems. She had privacy in her life which is a privilege for many women even today because a woman who is in love with seclusion or her own company will never allow any power to govern her life. How many women can opt to stay at her parents’ house, unmarried, throughout her life? How many women have the freedom even to choose not to marry and spend life in her own room drowned in her thoughts and passion?

“Emily Dickinson valued individuality and personal space which a woman in her time and even today are expected to sacrifice if she wants to get married and live a life of significance.

“She changed the definition of a loner woman, which has nothing to do with insufficiency to get married but to assert your territory and choices and be a true rebel.”

~ jsr

The Jon S. Randal Peace Page

#OTD #1830 #Emily Dickinson

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windlion · 2 years

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Malevolent Podcast Screamalong, Part 5??? Eps 15-17

Ooooh hints at traumatic backstory time!

I've got different theories on the back burner for Arthur's kid and/or wife. Would be interesting if Arthur's wife is the one who shoved John in the book and that's part of what changed him

The psuedopod named John can't quite separate from the whole colony huh

Arthur has a bit of trouble with victimization and priorities here

"I miss your method of emotional expression" "I don't."

John all "Maybe you wouldn't be so emotionally constipated if you just had a piano and could compose"

The meatsuit is taking some significant damage so far this ep

I hope you're up to date on your tetanus shots

John we talked about underestimating other eldritch entities

"Oh fuuuuck" "Yes"

Many problems, one solution. *flicks lighter*

Meatsuit really be going through it this time

"That was not a very well thought-out plan" No shit Sherlock

I've been through too many games where ANY resources are useful so watching them bypass loot is like "Noooooooo what are you doing"

BRING ANY WATER YOU HAVE Noooo

"Foolproof" ahahaha no

"What do we do" "Die horribly."

John all ". . . Uh how about not"

Lovely is exactly the right word for it. WORMS WORMS WORMS and that's totally what was on the desk in the boat because eyaaaagh

Arthur trying for the charisma roll!

That did . . . not really work

Each of you guys keep swinging wildly between kill everything-forgive things - and I can't really keep track of any logic behind it

Did y'all not remember your plot quest marker

"I wasn't enough." and John immediately up in arms like "who said that?!"

And you keep swinging between the "Do things / don't do things"

Always always going down

Arthur's turn to do the "Here's some existential terror"

"Can you give me more poems, please?"

Chirpy-thing had better not be evil *hard stare*

Or die horribly. We like chirpy salamander.

Seeing eye-demon is leaving out vital details

Plot points~~~

You guys really could have avoided a lot of that drama if you just threw dignity to the wind and flat-belly-squiggled to reach that

Aaaaand then things continue downward

At least when you're at the bottom there's nowhere to go but up???

It's one of your old friends, a chute!

Meat puppet is really taking a beating lately; you need another Wraith refresh

I would be bitching so bad about the "Quietly!" "You do this quietly!"

100% on Arthur's side of Read The Damn Book. Knowledge!

And that's how we're both going to die in Forbidden Fucked Up Fantasyland

"We're going to do this if it kills us" Mmmmmm not the best thing to say

Oh now you're on team Murder, you guys really do keep swapping

Many problems, one solution!

insert Jason Good Place Bortles gif

And then we get the traumatic backstory!

"I failed, that day" "You won't fail again"

Aw, John taking ownership/protectorship of this sad fucked up human

ohhhhh that doesn't sound good

Every time John does a "no that way" I imagine his left hand hauling Arthur to one side or the other

For once, upwards!

Arthur sorta waivers between low-key suicidal ideation and high key and with that poem reference. . . oof.

"Well you have me there" that was VERY fond <3

#Wind is a ridiculous creature #Screamalong #Malevolent podcast #eps 15-17 #100% would be doomed for reading the Forbidden Scripture whatever that will break your brain #just on the basis of *Fuck it it MIGHT help and I won't know unless I KNOW*

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zinniajones · 1 year

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Partial description of Sep 2 2022 river incident (Oct 22)

(tw near-death experience, drowning, fear, life-threatening danger, anxiety, trauma)

(copied from Twitter thread on October 22 2022)

I hope I haven't been unclear about this on here, but the near death experience from almost drowning has actually been far more severely damaging to me emotionally than I've made it out to be. Like, however well I make it seem like I'm keeping it together, it has been hard

(I am not sure I seem like I'm keeping it together. Idk)

I mean it's been two months and I am completely useless over this

I have had traumatic things happen that, while not as apparently severe as this, did pull a lot of unexpected things into my long-term memory from the surroundings. Things like remembering every word of a poem because I once completely blanked on it in front of class in 9th grade

That comes to bear on this issue because the event itself was bookended by two and a half hours of kayaking, and *after it had happened and I almost died and saw that* I immediately had to get back in and kayak down the river for another two hours in the same conditions

So that may be part of why I'm frequently thinking about the properties of the river, frequently recalling an image right in front of my face of what it looks like to be looking down the river, aware that this river is a very frightening place, and aware that it represents death

We know that at that point of the river the water level had to be deeper than 6 feet because Heather's feet did not touch the riverbed as she was treading water

Also nobody else there cares about any of this and when we asked others on the mostly unmarked river how long it was until it reached the end, they repeatedly told us "oh you're just about halfway!" at points that were actually anywhere from 3 to 7 miles

Suggesting that even they could not narrow down something like the length of a river beyond the range of somewhere between 6-14 miles long. Competent

Reviews of the kayak rental vendor indicate several people had to pull over out of the river and exit due to impassable conditions. At least one person reported exiting via land. This map shows multiple routes of land exit available immediately before the incident occurred

At the time before the event, including before we got to this segment which offered multiple possibilities of exit on land, I said this might be necessary due to worsening conditions and I was told by everyone present that this was not possible

So this was entirely preventable, and I actually tried to prevent this happening several times before it did happen, and others around me made sure those conditions would remain unchanged, and then I almost died, and then they told me I still had to kayak the two hours out. Any one person could have stopped this from happening to me and they passed on several opportunities even once it became clear that this route was now challenging even to experienced kayakers

Why would you go kayaking when you don't know how to swim, Zinnia? You know what, before we even got halfway I began to understand this was a bad idea too, and I tried to leave, meaning I tried to stop myself and, belatedly, make the decision you would want me to ideally make

So the ones to point the finger at in that situation would be, oddly enough, everyone who's not me

I tried to stop dangerous conditions from happening to me. When I wasn't allowed to, I tried to stop us from running into anything. When I failed and hit a tree and fell out, I tried to stop myself from drowning despite not knowing how to swim. I succeeded where others failed me. That's not me being irresponsible and not knowing how to swim, that's me taking the responsibility of trying to manage around that issue in several different ways throughout the day and during the event itself even if I haven't figured out how to swim despite years of tutoring. Responsibility doesn't stop and end with me, it also doesn't stop and end with just making sure you can swim. It extends to a lot of people and a lot of decisions. I'm still struggling to understand how I'm supposed to be so at fault for what happened to me. I didn't want to die. Have you ever just not wanted to die? It's such an experience to feel it happening to you, to know everyone saw it happening, and see that everyone just does not care and expects you to keep going down that way when you could fall out in another 20 meters and die again

Here's the thing: Right after it had happened I assumed they would take me seriously about the issues I had raised due to what had just happened and me being fairly correct about it being a problem. I assumed they would now understand there was a hazard. Not so. Do you even know what that does to your trust in people? To your ability to believe that any person cares about you continuing to be alive at all? I'm still trying to analyze from every direction some infinitesimally thin slice of that river and an instant in time where something that's still largely incomprehensible happened to me at the edge of my own existence. Everyone else seems scarcely aware anything happened at all

Can you just get over it, Zinnia? So I'm working on a definitive account of the event and what I saw when it happens ("void NDE"), I'm continuing to document all of the relevant circumstances, I'm reading the experiences of others, I'm looking through pictures of the river all the time, I'm drinking

What exactly am I supposed to do? Just have that not have happened to me? I already tried to stop it from happening to me. Briefly, the "near death experience" I had was that when you die you go nowhere, it was not the ones with feelings of calm and traveling towards light, this was reality and you stop existing when your body is destroyed and I saw it about to happen to me

I've had to *look* for people who've seen this and understand this feeling and I have found them, but only on occasion, and so this isn't an experience of near-death extreme psychological shock that's relatable to most people - or even most people who've almost died

I have never felt more fundamentally alone as a conscious entity in the world than I have since September 2 because I know now that when your self and everything you are comes to an end, there is no one and nothing else there, you are always alone when it happens to you

I haven't found anything yet that does a thing to put a dent in that feeling. I was alone, and functionally, I am alone because it can happen at any time and when it does it's going to be of foremost concern to me, because others won't be the ones who are annihilated

I'm literally just a floating point-of-view in a *frightening* one-story-house of reality with nowhere to go up or down, and it's ready to close in on you from all sides almost faster than you can realize it's happening

So, I'm sorry, I'm somehow supposed to *not* be thinking about that constantly? My chief task is now to indefinitely find ways of living the rest of my life without that being front and center every day? I'm not sure there's a way to not be very aware of that, but because I'm not sure, I'm looking for ways to address this just to make sure I've done everything I can that could make this somehow manageable in terms of mental health and being able to function

It's been 51 days now where I wake up knowing this with certainty about how reality works, knowing for sure that human life is finite and there is not "maybe a chance" you get to persist in some other form, and I knew all of these facts before, but now I know it's still so scary

It's so bad in ways that can't be conveyed without it happening to you, it's just the worst thing I've ever felt to the point that I'm thinking about it constantly, and I don't have that happen about a *lot* of very bad and frightening things that had happened to me before

It's a knowledge I had, now reinforced knowledge through something having happened that was outside the normal experience of reality. The traditional words for this are faith, belief, or spiritual experience, but this wasn't a belief or an effort of faith. It was forced on me

It was a transcendent experience that transcended life and existence into nothingness. I only believe in the annihilation. The fact that I still get up after all of that and tell myself "Well okay. Go fight transphobes" is a testament to some kind of absurdism

If you see pictures of a place and it looks like this, and you go there, you could end up like me. I'm not just saying you don't want to die, I'm saying you don't want to end up like whatever I am now

Not only do you need to make sure you don't die for as long as possible, you need to make sure you don't even get into situations where you're facing imminent death but survive because awareness of death is itself a severe psychic hazard

What I'm trying to warn you about is that once you've seen it and know what happens, you know it's everywhere and you will never be able to forget it or what it feels like. And it feels like that everywhere

Representative photos from others of the river, this is roughly what it looks like on the day you have this experience

Some parts of this video are also accurate to the experience of drowning in a river https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CM7nSuFrGZ0

#tw death #nde #void #void nde #tw drowning #near death experience #near death tw #Zinnia Jones #atheism #extremely strong atheism

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martianbugsbunny · 2 years

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OUAT Thoughts Pt.16--Episodes 12-13

I have watched through S2E13; spoilers DNI. Also, spoiler warning for those further behind than I am.

—Rumple von Stiltskin, what an idiot *affectionately*

—I still love Dr. Frankenstein’s world being in black and white. I also love that Rumplestiltskin is in full color when he visits. Also, those red clothes are fine.

—I’m sure they were chosen in a process similar to how Judy Garland’s slippers for the Wizard of Oz were changed from silver to red to show off the new color technology. Red does look so lovely on camera, especially when it’s saturated off its ass.

—Goshdarnit, Hook isn’t dead. He would’ve had it coming.

—Also, a guy this slimy? I don’t really believe that he could experience true love. First of all, who would fall for him? Second, has he ever felt a genuine emotion in his entire life?

—The paramedics that showed up to the crash site bring up an interesting point. Have some of Storybrooke’s residents gone through the proper training to become paramedics, nurses, doctors, etc., since their memories were returned, or are they just running on the memories of when they were programmed by the curse to do those jobs? Someone (I think it was Regina) even mentioned sarcastically a couple of episodes ago that Archie’s psych degree was given to him by the curse. Or if Archie breaks his glasses, is there anyone in town who has a clue how to fix them? Or if a glasses wearer needs a new prescription? And regardless of their capability, there’s no way any of the businesses in this town are entirely legal.

—I feel terribly for Belle. Sneezy had his life as a pharmacist to revert to when he lost his memories of being a dwarf. Belle has nothing to remember but being locked in the basement for twenty-eight years.

—She broke the cup! *is emotionally damaged*

—Dr. Frankenstein has somehow become a compelling and tragic character. I didn’t really care about him before, but now I want to see him get back to his brother. Also, if he and Red dated, I don’t think I would completely hate that. They kinda vibe together.

—If people who aren’t in the book (such as Frankenstein) got cursed, could we have Mary Poppins show up?

—I love that there was some shade about Frankenstein being the name attached to the monster, rather than the guy, in the collective human consciousness.

—Regina’s mausoleum office is phat. I mean, it was cool before, when it was in the mayoral building or whatever, but it gets extra points for being underneath a tomb.

—Anton is a really sweet guy. And I don’t blame him for being down on humans; I kinda hate humans sometimes too. And humans didn’t trick me into accidentally leading them to my house so they could kill my entire family and steal from me.

—Fricking Jack being from Wonderland burns me. And to have her be the person who killed the Jabberwock? She’s not worthy of such an honor. That poem was epic.

—I love that Anton’s got the dwarves to hang out with now. Also, Tiny being his dwarf name got me right in the feels.

—The oldest brother (at least I assume he was the oldest) was that big orderly—I think his name was Jerry?—from ER. Which is also a great show (at least until the last couple of seasons; then it kinda sucks).

—Mr. Gold Goes To The Airport™ was an awfully distressing segment. He can’t use magic; he almost forgot who he was; he has no clue about planes or airport security…it was terrible. Also, he’s right—having to take off your shoes is uncivilized. Bit of a side note, but I’ve never flown before, and I’m pretty sure I would also freak out if I ever do.

—I appreciate that Emma is being, if not quite nice, then understanding. She’s very brusque, but she’s a good person, and for someone often lacking in tact she’s pretty compassionate.

—Mr. Gold promising to look after Emma and Henry (for Charming) while they’re on their not-so-fun quest was nice. Even if he was kind of salty about it, his expression reflected that he was thinking of his own kid, which is exactly the right kind of human touch to give him.

—Charming’s brother was a proper asshole. A philandering, overindulgent, two-faced, thieving man-child. There is no redeeming quality there.

—Snow having a modern bow in Storybrooke amuses me. That, and the fact that she likes life or death adventures. She’s nuts *adoringly* I also love that she would rather stay in Storybrooke with Emma than go back to the fairytale world.

—I don’t trust the new guy. He’s going to ruin everything.

—It’s an interesting take to have Belle being essentially institutionalized for thinking she saw magic….IN A TOWN THAT IS LITERALLY MAGIC. It’s like if that Oz followup movie where Dorothy was in the asylum was set in Oz, and they were all trying to gaslight her because she lost her memories.

—At least it seems plausible that Mr. Gold might eventually get to see his son again at some point. That and Anton getting to be a lil bit happy are the two wins from these episodes.

Depending on whether or not I watch the Andor premiere tomorrow, I may not have time for OUAT. Also, Thursday I have an evening obligation to go to, so I probably won’t be able to watch OUAT then either. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ but sad.

#once upon a time #ouat #mr. gold #rumplestiltskin #dr. frankenstein #Captain Hook #belle #red riding hood #Snow White #prince James charming #both of them #should I call Charming David now?#anton #tiny #jack the giant killer #Emma swan #Henry #the seven dwarves #martianbugsbunny reviews

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abbyandhanako · 1 year

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Drabble: Love Poem

————————————————————

In the Plasma Frigate’s infirmary, Mark was snuggling with Glaceino and Flareino until he heard a notification on his phone, when he took it out of his pocket, It was texts from an unknown number.

“Hm?” He said, Mark was warned by Ghetsis and Zinzolin not to open any texts and voicemails from unknown numbers, he seemed nervous and scared, he put his phone on the desk and decided to tell Abby when she returned after picking Hana up from school.

When Hana and Abby finally returned.

“Abby…..I got a text from an unknown number….” He said to her nervously, pointing at the phone

Abby looked at the phone and picked it up.

“We should probably see Ghetsis about this, come on….” Abby said in a reassuring manner.

Mark nodded and went outside the infirmary with her and made their way to Ghetsis’ office with Hana following along.

Ghetsis was sitting in his office, sipping coffee and his Hydreigon resting on a cushion that was sitting on the floor.

“What is it?” He asked the two.

“Um…Sage/Lord Ghetsis?” Mark and Abby both said, then Abby soon spoke, “We are sorry to have disturbed you on such short notice, but Mark has received suspicious voicemails and texts.”

Ghetsis nodded then looked at Mark.

“If this is from Old Plasma or Hugh, there will be consequences.” He said to them firmly, he soon played the first voicemail.

It was a woman’s voice, Abby and Mark soon recognized it, the latter flinched.

Ghetsis recognized it as Sang-jo, Mark’s ex-fiancée, from what he knew from Mark and his mother, Sang-jo was physically, verbally and emotionally abusive towards Mark, even strangling him to the point he suffered permanent esophageal and windpipe damage and even inflicting injuries on him, this led to Mark’s Pokémon, Flareina and Glaceino being frightened of anyone who resembled her.

“Oh my dear sweet Mark, How I missed you my precious blossom tree…Oh please come back to me….I won’t say I love you but I want you back cuddling you and your Eevee twins…..My precious little Eevee boy….”

Ghetsis let out a snort and erupted into laughter, Hana began to giggle at that aswell, Ghetsis soon played the second and one.

“Oh my dear Eevee boy? Why are you ghosting me, I wish you’d sit upon my throne as your loving wife…..Please my dear Ma-keu, Come back to me, You’re the only one for me…..”

Abby began to snicker at that, T.K soon walked in holding a toolbox.

“What is happening here?” He asked, he saw Ghetsis trying hard not to laugh and the other two shocked and snickering.

Ghetsis soon played the third voicemail, the green-haired man was racked with giggles and he was wiping tears from his eyes.

“I have zero dreams or hopes anymore, I lost you along with our marriage, children and grandchildren, I was foolish and naive and only realized how much you meant to me….I wish to believe the golden throne in your heart only belongs to me…..I shall message you again, My beloved Eevee boy, Ma-keu.”

Ghetsis, Abby, Hana, T.K and Mark looked silently at eachother, soon enough Ghetsis began to snort and erupted in hysterical laughter, the three grunts and Hanako soon followed suit.

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” The Team Plasma boss and the three grunts soon laughed hysterically aswell as Hana.

Ghetsis nearly fell to the floor from laughing uncontrollably, Hana was giggling behind her hand, T.K was laughing while slamming his fist down onto the ground and Abby was laughing too hard to get up.

Mark, who was frightened now began to giggle and snort.

“WE RUINED HER WEDDING FOR THIS?! MYAH-HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Ghetsis said through hysterical laughter, “HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

The grunts and Hana continued laughing with the latter laughing even harder, Ghetsis was clutching his stomach from laughing so hard.

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” T.K laughed, he couldn’t imagine himself sending poems like that to Francesca, “OH MY FUCKING ARCEUS! THIS IS FUCKING HILARIOUS!”

Even Mark couldn’t help but laugh, in Team Plasma before the split, he couldn’t stand hearing her voice and was extremely frightened of her.

“Would you send poems like this to Goji-Pants?” Abby laughed, asking Hana, referring to Leo.

“Hahahahaha! No thanks!” Hana laughed.

Ghetsis soon read the texts.

“Oh my Arceus….Come back my sweet! Please break up with the wicked witch Abby and come back to me…..My magnificent fiancé! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I’M GONNA DIE….!”

After having a laugh with the cringy love poems.

“Abby, go post these online, It will teach that woman a thing or two about trying to get into contact with Mark.” Ghetsis snorted.

Abby nodded while snickering.

“Consider it done, sir.” Abby said as she and they left.

#mark jeong {{the unusual visitor}}#drabble #abby kadozawa {{the nurse of hell's infirmary}}#t.k xiong {{the cheek bruise}}#hanako mishima {{the lost purrloin}}#tw: mentions of abuse

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ashtrayfloors · 2 years

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fragments of mid-September

The between-season. Summer days, autumn nights. The pumpkins orangeing on the vine.

Mercury Rx. All my old issues & patterns coming back again. Doing weekly tarot readings for myself; drawing my lifelong stalker card. Three of Swords. Heartbreak, sorrow, strife. Same as it ever was. I don’t think I’ve cried this much since 2016.

Last week I burned the inside of my wrist with a cigarette. Haven’t done anything like that in years. I felt stupid & weak. But it felt good. None of my healthy coping mechanisms are working.

(I’ve quit smoking but still had a few cigarettes in a pack. Lit one just to burn myself with it. It was a fucking clove cigarette. Christ.)

Once again mourning the friends I lost in the great Friend Exodus of 2014. Once again wondering why? I won’t ever really know, & at this point the why of it doesn’t matter. I’m just lonesome. I want someone to come over with a bottle of tequila and an acoustic guitar, & we could pass ‘em both back & forth, drink tequila & sing old folk songs. I want someone to have a Jim Jarmusch movie marathon with. I want to sit with someone all night in a diner, alternately talking art & philosophy & just sitting silently, writing or reading our own things. I want someone to go to a copy shop with me & make Xerox art.

I feel very old & very young.

I’ve cut back on alcohol & caffeine & other than my lapse into self-harm I’m trying not to be self-destructive but god.

I miss being able to justify putting whiskey in my coffee every morning.

I miss hopping trains.

I need to finish my goddamn zine & I’ve stalled out. I’ve stalled out on a lot of things.

I’m bored & restless & uninspired.

Scratch that last one. I have hundreds of ideas but when I sit down to work on any of them it’s a struggle to get anything out.

At least writing-wise. Visual art is coming easier these days.

The kids are bored & restless, too. That makes them cranky, & then they act up, & I snap at them, & then feel worse about myself.

& they are relentless, always interrupting me. So even when I do start writing, I can’t get into a good flow.

I feel like I’m failing them and myself.

Then there’s all the car trouble & financial worries & all the stress from that.

I’m tired all the time but can’t sleep. At least not without ASMR & antihistamines, or BDSM & bourbon.

When I do sleep, I have fucked up dreams.

P.’s familiar issues are popping up again, too. Namely how he reads things I’ve written & think he knows who they’re about & when they occurred. I’ve tried to explain that the ‘you’ in many of my love poems isn’t one specific person, it’s a hybrid of various people. That the stories in much of my prose are a combination of fact & fiction, or that I write about stuff that happened years ago as though it were recent.

We’re having a yard sale a couple weeks from now, so I’m going through my things to figure out what I can sell. It’s hard for me to get rid of stuff. After all those years of having stuff stolen by vindictive roommates, having to sell stuff to pay the bills, having stuff damaged in flooded basements... I don’t like to let go of anything.

I’m trying to find a way through all this.

Trying to be gentle with myself, but not too gentle.

Gentle like: not beating myself up (emotionally) for crying a lot, or for snapping at my kids sometimes, or for that clove-cigarette burn.

But also tough enough to say: stop moping. Get over yourself & do something rad, or I’ll kick your ass.

Trying to be gentle with the kids. Letting them know every day that I love them, even when I yell; letting them know that I don’t always love their behavior but I always love them.

People have been really generous since I posted about the car/money stuff on my main blog, & I am so so beyond grateful.

After I write this, I’ll be finishing up my triptych for the zodiac-themed art show and submitting it.

I will finish my zine before MWPZF. I work on it every day, even if only in brief snatches.

I’m mapping out other writing projects. I have copious poem-notes. An idea for a short film; another one for a short story. Last fall I got an idea for a horror novel and have made a lot of notes about it since; I’m going to work on that during NaNoWriMo this year.

A week from today, I’m taking a one-hour online divinatory poetics course, with special guest CAConrad.

I’m planning out what to play on my next podcast.

I got a stick & poke tattoo kit so I can level up my stick & poke tattoo game. So far I’m just sketching out ideas; next I’ll practice on the fake skin. My first one will be a ghost. Followed by an oak leaf & a chicory flower. Then I’m going to fix/finish that compass rose moon I started all those years ago.

I’m letting myself be the mystical lovesick romantic dork I really am; letting myself romanticize everything, again.

Like the beautiful women I saw downtown last week—the tattooed mom & the butch dyke in overalls.

Like Thursday, turning the walk to the park with the kiddos into an epic fantasy adventure. The park was a strange & distant land. We had to walk because ‘our chariot had broken down.’ The neighborhood crows were messengers; the things people had carved into or written on the park benches were markings in many languages, left by fellow travelers through this strange land. & of course those walking sticks/wizard staffs we found.

Like the fact that I have apparently decided to become an amateur woodworker, at least for this one wizard staff. I spent hours after we got home on Thursday afternoon removing bark (it was weirdly therapeutic), and I’m planning on removing the rest of the bark over the course of this week, then painting it & otherwise decorating it.

Like sitting out back with P. late Thursday night, & seeing a huge blue-green fireball arc itself through the sky & down somewhere northwest of here.

Like Friday night, how we couldn’t make it to the bonfire & night hike at the Eco-Justice Center, so we had a fire in our backyard fire pit, then took a night walk around our neighborhood. The streetlights through the trees made leaf shadows on the houses; the front yard lights made diamond shadows on the sidewalk.

Yes, I’ll make it through. Now I’m just waiting for October. Cross my fingers, cross my heart, & hope to die.

#ashtrayfloors #dear livejournal #september #mercury rx #crying #self harm cw #loneliness #bad things #small good things #romanticizing everything #plans #waiting for october #three of swords

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beth-march · 2 years

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I always start your fics thinking I’m mentally and emotionally prepared for whatever I’m about to read but there always comes a point where I’m like oh Neptune I didn’t prepare for this ‘Against all odds, Fez makes a life for himself. It is quiet, and humble, and lonely.’ I had to take a moment to regroup. You’re such a beautiful writer and I’m always in awe! Thank you for sharing your work with us ❤️

That is SO funny, I love that so much. Thank you for reading my fics and I apologise for any emotional damage I might have caused.

Thinking about Fez in a peaceful routine post prison did bring me a strange amount of solace, if of a very sad kind. There's this poem, "a good day" by Kait Rokowski, that really inspired me, which is focussed more on depression as a holdback, whereas Fez is, you know, a felon, but I thought of the way that day to day life is described a lot while writing those sections.

I cannot thank you enough for your kind words. I'm so happy to be sharing my works, thank you for reading them 💖

#asks

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threenorth · 11 months

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Last time I was here I was trying to make poetry, unfortunately the potential of mental health crisis does somethings I've had to learn from...

So today I hope my words are poems and not harmful...

3 days with you heaven was wonderful, until I wrecked the heaven years later, 3 days it could be in hell without you, what's 3 days on top of the past few years without seeing that beautiful face.

All I wanted was your happiness, I guess I should of said with me at the end because now I don't know what's next and that's just as exciting as It was before,

Ying and yang.

I've had Ying or Yang now I'm Yang my Ying.

There is 12 hours of sun, there's 12 hours of darkness, I don't fear darkness I fear the sunset and sunrise because sometimes I wonder whitch one I'm gonna get today.

---

Sometimes I wonder if I made a character if I go full circle from being knighted as a hero in knights ammour, to the vilian where the sword was my own, to victim trying to heal from my self sabotage, back to trying to weild a sword that I don't feel I am worthy to lift anymore.

Sometimes I wonder, what came of the girl in the tower, maybe she had books and knew when I said it was okay she knew it wasn't that she knew I knew that I was in a mess but I couldn't tell you anything that I was afraid would do damage to you, so in the times you weren't with me you think unfortunately I was stuck in a place I didn't expect I'd be.

Bewteen the future of truth and the past of decisions yet to be made.

Maybe just maybe this decision could be the worst decision of my life, you wanted closure and I gave you it, or your testing me and honestly it's the worse test to give me, I want still be with you and I love you like it was only yesterday but I know I had my chance I told myself I'd never let it happen again, but I'm not doing so well some days and overs I'm over the moon, because you gave me my greatest gift of my life.

You once told me some of your poetry some of those words still haunt me, but only because I failed to recognise it was me...

I was beginning to slip away, but I didn't see the signs and I didn't want you to worry about me. In the end I forgot the road has two sides and we were in the same lane.

There's many things I'd do differently if I could have the time machine I wear around my Keychain, I have a few things from our relationship and friendship but it seems some of those things are in the broken pecies we leave behind that we try put back together and try to build ourselfs,i never felt comfortable in a suit, but after years of being in one every sunday I'd wear a suit to my corporate job if you wear jeans In a cafe.

I don't know what I am currently, nor do I try to put lables on it because I'm currently in my present but once this memory fades in insight will I find the key to my questions.

To the love of my life, there is no one on this earth like you, but I know there's plenty of me.

I'm sorry I wasn't the man you wanted at 6'4 but you were everything I wanted and still want I guess I settled to easily and I'm happy to admit in love at first sight, I made a song about you, even when I only knew so little about you.

Maybe we are star people, future, past and present are all different stages of our evolution.

I look up the stars and I cry sometimes were so far away physically and emotionally but so close on spiritual level my twin flame burn on my love, I know you have your reasons no matter what they are, I learn from my suffering I once was a whimicaial now I'm a stotic, maybe the pain I receive remind me to never change.

I miss you more than I'd ever be able to write, but a poet said like the sun misses the moon... see you next eclipse.

Bewteen the future of truth and the past of decisions yet to be made.

You once told me some of your poetry some of those words still haunt me, but only because I failed to recognise it was me...

I was beginning to slip away, but I didn't see the signs and I didn't want you to worry about me. In the end I forgot the road has two sides and we were in the same lane.

I don't know what I am currently, nor do I try to put lables on it because I'm currently in my present but once this memory fades in insight will I find the key to my questions.

To the love of my life, there is no one on this earth like you, but I know there's plenty of me.

Maybe we are star people, future, past and present are all different stages of our evolution.

I miss you more than I'd ever be able to write, but a poet said like the sun misses the moon... see you next eclipse.

Today was a slow day kind of nice to relax but I can feel my thoughts, with the air being so less it slows down my thoughts and I can see within myself all the grey I usually don't with my anxiety.

I really want to get better but instead I focus on getting a better job to get a roof of my own, I want to make art, but I study business.

I want many things some are easier then others, some of the others are more needs then wants but I can't figure out whitch box they fit into.

Maybe I'll box in both because it's another word for important to me, like how I boxed my memories under don't reopen yet now I'm stronger I reopened some again and that one part of that movie, replays in my head with Simon and Garfunkel.

It's spring time here, back home the leaves are falling like stars of trees where as flowers are starting to bloom both in soil and in mind.

I don't know what to do or say if you ended up in front of me I think I'd cry but then I'd also be so happy to hear your cakkle from all the dumb shit I've been up to since the last time I saw your hazel eyes looking at me.

I brought you chocolate again, you are my dopamine, adhd is a dopamine deficiency but you make every moment feel like a beach sunset.

Does your apartment have room roof access?

I still want to sit on a roof and look at the stars.

I'm at 6000 feet, it's hard to breath, it's hard to walk a mile but your worth it but some risks I can't afford like hiking I'm sorry not this time, I also herd you could be at the fort, money is tight my love and please don't blame yourself for the actions that might come.

I just wish I remembered the right words to your heart but I think it starts with a kiss, and has slowly then all at once written in the bite, and ends with we choose the love that we deserve...

Maybe I'm to left to right to write what's left to be corrected by the wrong to be correct to be right in a poem that's left to write in a right world where I am left.

There's quite many things that I remember most out of everything when I think about you, that I don't think I've ever told anyone but that's a secret between me and the stars.

Maybe under the milky-way the secrets I've kept that I should of shared and the secrets that revealed them self's will be intertwined once again.

It's almost 6pm, here in the mountains, it's almost noon back west at the sea level island, I remember when the tables where switched that it was midnight for you and 6pm for me and I sent you to bed, I hope you know before I knew my own problems I tried my best to understand yours, I hope in the time bewteen you found answers to things that I didn't know yet, and the answers I do now, you were always so brave and I just Steve diving on grenades some that didn't go off and some that did more damage then I thought.

I often think about things, maybe I should stop doing that but then a life of a poet would only be a philosophical debate.

As I've gotten smarter I wonder how stupid I can be, I told you once I like smart people, at the time they were most accepting to individualism and now as I can suffer at English you have mastered three different languages and I'm as stupid.

Forrest Gump, that movie was your favourite you asked me all my favourite parts and I said everything but right now the white feather it keeps me following my stories inside of a book with each chapter being written year by year day by day.

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a-shared-experience · 1 year

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I find university to be riveting. I wonder to myself what life would have been like had I experienced this sooner. Where and who would I be. I would not be me who I am today which I think would be tragic. I notice a familiar face and snag a seat beside her. We sit in a circle and begin the morning with medicine. We are taught that when you smudge with sage you should always start with the top of your head - from infancy to around age 7 that part of your head is soft and represents a connection to spirit. Then you sage your eyes so you can see the beauty of the day, your ears so you can hear the messages you’re meant to receive, your heart so you can open up to the universe and allow love to flow and then proceed to move down your entire body focusing on any ailments, physically, emotionally and spiritually. The room was filled with folks who work in cultural healing, housing for at risk populations, nurses, social workers and myself who does overdose response. I learn that the first law of many indigenous cultures is called, “ SAKIHITOWIN” , which means love. The word , “ WISAKACIHOWIN” loosely translates to: your spirit and whole being feels deep pain, deep pain that ripples” - J.Cardinal and E. Roan.

We discuss how each persons language of love is different and that love can be disrupted, sometimes for generations. The teacher tells us of her own experience growing up with a father who struggled with active addiction. How sometimes we aren’t even aware that we’re angry, we don’t know that it’s ok to feel that and many people will ask of us to stuff it down inside, to be quiet. That all it takes is one person to say it’s ok to be angry about what happened to you.

They play a meditation which includes a poem they’d written for their father after he passed. “ it’s not your fault” , they repeat.

I grow uncomfortable shortly after I’m instructed to get seated comfortably. My chest grows tighter, my fists clench and I bite my lip the second I feel my eyes fill up with tears. I don’t allow myself to be upset. I swallow it down, I look at the ceiling. I glance around the room. Other people are crying. It’s so obvious who’s had adverse experiences and troubled relationships with their own fathers. I’m angry. It’s not your fault. I’m angry, it’s not your fault. I repeat silently in my head.

We learn that anger is our human response to trying to make sense of a traumatic event. It’s the first processing point. When we are traumatized and also when we are triggered as a result of what’s happened to us- our body reacts with over 1500 chemicals to protect us from danger.

I begin to recognize how many feelings I can physically feel from the upset of my pain.

We light more sage and I follow it with my eyes as it billows to the sky.

I still struggle to know what to do with so much.

They teach us about the invisible backpack theory. How if you placed ziplock bags containing rice , rocks, etc and loaded the backpack up with a bunch of ziplock bags representing the ways we’ve been hurt, our losses … it would take its toll on us physically to carry it around every day. Our shoulders, our back, our knees would ache.

Pain is such a profound thing- we all carry it.

I think I align so deeply with indigenous culture because unlike western medicine they have remembered that pain damages our spirit in ways that many doctors or therapists cannot even fathom to treat.

And yet it is there we must begin and end with.

#traumainformed #pain #healing

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her-and-words · 1 year

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Never knew what love was

So this is how it feels like being inlove with someone. I feel like a teen being inlove for the first time, because I’ve never felt this feeling before. It took me a long time.. but I have learned what it is to love someone unconditionally and what being inlove truly feels like, not attachment, not attraction, not infatuation but actual true love. You’d think you knew love until someone comes along to make you realize you never knew true love at all until that person helps you to finally understand what true love really is. I just came to a realization that I never knew what love was my whole life. Even if I thought I knew, none of it was ever real love. I might’ve been infatuated or attracted before, but to hold a deep and absolute genuine love for a person is something that just now awakened in me. It’s like I am just now understanding the whole culture of romantic love. I am just now understanding what it’s like exactly to be emotionally tangled up with someone. I am just now understanding what really love is. Most people got attachment issues, while my problem for a long time was not being able to feel anything for humans, not being able to feel any type of connection with anyone. It’s like I was so numb from love for a long time. It made me rarely connect with people anymore. So I’d always feel bad for those who try to because there's always this distance with me. I cannot be touched, it seems, in certain ways, which was unfortunate for the people that were interested in me, and for me. My trust issues wouldn't allow me to see humans on a different light, my past experiences with people made me so blocked off from opening up my heart to anyone, whether it be platonic relationship or romantic one. I didn’t realize that subconsciously, I was so damaged that I’ve been so shut off to everyone, I was so centered on my wounds that I lost interest in new relationships. I didn’t realize that my lack of trust in humans created a cage in my heart that wouldn’t allow me to let anyone get close to me for feeling like they will only hurt me like everyone in my past did. It affected the way I perceive love and relationships. For a long time I couldn’t relate to lovers, I forgot what it’s like to have special feelings for someone. Until in the most unexpected way, this person came and before I even realized it, this person has opened up my heart, because of this person, I’m slowly learning to put down the walls I built around my heart to keep others out and it made me realize how beautiful it is to open up again, to open up my heart again. For a long time, I couldn’t relate to people who are in love, I couldn’t relate to every lyrics of love songs, I couldn’t relate to poetry written about love, until this person came, and this person has helped me understand the meaning and feeling and relatability behind every lyrics of love songs and the sense in every love poem. Before this person, I used to listen to music just to enjoy the melodies, now I listen to music to savor every relatable lyrics, reminiscing the person who gave meaning to all of it.

-Roxanne

#thoughts #words #writings #reflection #reflections #contemplating #contemplation #love #romantic love #romance

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rockislandadultreads · 1 year

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Black History Month: Nonfiction

The 1619 Project edited by Nikole Hannah-Jones

In late August 1619, a ship arrived in the British colony of Virginia bearing a cargo of twenty to thirty enslaved people from Africa. Their arrival led to the barbaric and unprecedented system of American chattel slavery that would last for the next 250 years. This is sometimes referred to as the country’s original sin, but it is more than that: It is the source of so much that still defines the United States.

The New York Times Magazine’s award-winning “1619 Project” issue reframed our understanding of American history by placing slavery and its continuing legacy at the center of our national narrative. This new book substantially expands on that work, weaving together eighteen essays that explore the legacy of slavery in present-day America with thirty-six poems and works of fiction that illuminate key moments of oppression, struggle, and resistance. The essays show how the inheritance of 1619 reaches into every part of contemporary American society, from politics, music, diet, traffic, and citizenship to capitalism, religion, and our democracy itself.

All That She Carried by Tiya Miles

In 1850s South Carolina, an enslaved woman named Rose faced a crisis, the imminent sale of her daughter Ashley. Thinking quickly, she packed a cotton bag with a few precious items as a token of love and to try to ensure Ashley's survival. Soon after, the nine-year-old girl was separated from her mother and sold.

Decades later, Ashley's granddaughter Ruth embroidered this family history on the bag in spare yet haunting language - including Rose's wish that "It be filled with my Love always." Ruth's sewn words, the reason we remember Ashley's sack today, evoke a sweeping family story of loss and of love passed down through generations. Now, in this illuminating, deeply moving book inspired by Rose's gift to Ashley, historian Tiya Miles carefully unearths these women's faint presence in archival records to follow the paths of their lives - and the lives of so many women like them - to write a singular and revelatory history of the experience of slavery, and the uncertain freedom afterward, in the United States.

Between the World and Me by Ta-Nehisi Coates

In a profound work that pivots from the biggest questions about American history and ideals to the most intimate concerns of a father for his son, Ta-Nehisi Coates offers a powerful new framework for understanding our nation’s history and current crisis. Americans have built an empire on the idea of “race,” a falsehood that damages us all but falls most heavily on the bodies of black women and men - bodies exploited through slavery and segregation, and, today, threatened, locked up, and murdered out of all proportion. What is it like to inhabit a black body and find a way to live within it? And how can we all honestly reckon with this fraught history and free ourselves from its burden?

Between the World and Me is Ta-Nehisi Coates’s attempt to answer these questions in a letter to his adolescent son. Coates shares with his son - and readers - the story of his awakening to the truth about his place in the world through a series of revelatory experiences, from Howard University to Civil War battlefields, from the South Side of Chicago to Paris, from his childhood home to the living rooms of mothers whose children’s lives were taken as American plunder. Beautifully woven from personal narrative, reimagined history, and fresh, emotionally charged reportage, Between the World and Me clearly illuminates the past, bracingly confronts our present, and offers a transcendent vision for a way forward.

A Black Women’s History of the United States by Daina Ramey Berry & Kali Nicole Gross

In centering Black women’s stories, two award-winning historians seek both to empower African American women and to show their allies that Black women’s unique ability to make their own communities while combatting centuries of oppression is an essential component in our continued resistance to systemic racism and sexism. Daina Ramey Berry and Kali Nicole Gross offer an examination and celebration of Black womanhood, beginning with the first African women who arrived in what became the United States to African American women of today.

A Black Women’s History of the United States reaches far beyond a single narrative to showcase Black women’s lives in all their fraught complexities. Berry and Gross prioritize many voices: enslaved women, freedwomen, religious leaders, artists, queer women, activists, and women who lived outside the law. The result is a starting point for exploring Black women’s history and a testament to the beauty, richness, rhythm, tragedy, heartbreak, rage, and enduring love that abounds in the spirit of Black women in communities throughout the nation.

#black history month #black history #black authors #nonfiction #non-fiction books #nonfiction reads #library books #reading recommendations #book recommendations #reading recs #book recs #tbr #TBR pile #to read #booklr #book tumblr #book blog #library blog

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