The song of Achilles killed me, if we were villains had no business walking all over my dead body. I can’t believe I’m literally crying over a bunch of tattooed trees
So, right now, I’m on vacation and when I put “Rainbow Boys” down I felt a sense of accomplishment and excitement.
This book was a re-read but much needed after reflecting on my past coming out this summer.
When I came out, these were the books that got me through my teen years. I actually gave my original copies of the series away thinking that they could help someone else but not realizing what they gave me initially. A sense of community, strength and hope.
I don’t think I’ll ever let my copies go again.
I feel like as an adult within the gay community, it’s hard to find your “people” unless you go out every night or are putting yourself out there consistently in various ways. I want to start doing that more but I’m still finding my people in books and music and movies. That human connection I crave. Now I am no fool, I know “ain’t nothin’ like the real thing” but I still get lost in these stories of resilience, love and courage from my youth. It makes me so proud.
What Alex Sanchez gave me as a teen is the same thing he gave me as an adult: a home. A place to feel understood and safe.
The Psychology Behind Raskolnikov | Jordan B Peterson
Nice lil' throwback to before JBP went completely off the rails and embarked on his political crusade - back when he was much more interested in exploring the human condition via psychology & philosophy than he was in owning the libs lol
I want to shove the world into a dark corner and tell it to 𝐆𝐨 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐟𝐟. I want to scream out in all the ways it has let me down in hopes that somebody hears me and tells me it's all going to be okay. I want to crumble all the mistakes I have made into the palms and watch as they fall through my fingertips as nothing but dirt. I want to ask why I have such a burden to bear when all I've asked for was love. I want to understand others' heartbreak without becoming angry with how it doesn't compare to mine. I want to wake up as a version of myself who does not live with this loss etching itself deep inside my heart. I want to see the world for what it can be, and not for all that it has not been.
Self help books are overrated. To quote the legendary comedian George Carlin ”If you're looking for self-help, why would you read a book written by somebody else?” and “If you're reading it in a book, folks, it ain't self-help. It's help.”But no one can deny the success of these self help books.
The names of some of these self help books are insane. My favourite ones are ”The monk who sold his ferrari”and ”Think like a monk”. Which monk should I think like? The monk who sold his ferrari? I am sorry but selling a ferrari is not one of the things that I would want to do at age 20. Then there's the famous book called ”The 4a.m club”. Here is the thing, I respect people who can get up at 4 a.m and do productive work, but to be able to go to sleep at 4 a.m and wake up at 6 with the intention of coming to college and spending 7 hours here listening to lectures requires another level of patience and dedication which these morning people will never be able to achieve.
Then there's another book called ”Who moved my cheese? ”... I don't know bro. Stop looking at me. It's probably Jerry. Get yourself a cat.
But my two absolute favorites are “The subtle art of not giving a fuck” and ”The secret”. The subtle art is basically buddhism but for bros. It's full of stories explaining to you why you shouldn't give a fuck about anything. But here's the thing, if you write a book about not giving a fuck about anything- then isn't that counterproductive? You spend a lot of your time and energy writing a book about why no one , including you shouldn't give a fuck, but in the process of doing so you actually give a fuck.
What an accidental fuck!
The secret is amazing. The book is called secret but they tell you what the secret is, which is again dumb. But according to this book you can wish for something so much ,put that energy into the universe and it will come true. It doesn't work. Trust me I have tried it. I have been wishing for a ferrari for 20 years of my life but all I have gotten is books about stupid monks selling their Ferrari's.
The people who read self help books are my favorite kind of people. They just look so fucking gullible all the time. They read a good self help book and they decides to change their lives completely. It's like taking new year resolutions every two months. These people think that their life would miraculously change if they woke up at 5 in the morning and changed their bedsheets. They are so adorably gullible.
But being a self help writer is an amazing place to be in. The level of desperation in people goes up everyday, thus increasing your market size. You can never run out of business. I think more people should consider this as a start up option. Write a book, if it helps people it's well and good, otherwise buy yourself that ferrari!
I’ve talked about this before but imagine what it’s like for someone in a country/place where eliot is Top Most Wanted and then your tech guy finds a breakout star baseball player on their visual scanner that looks EXACTLY like spencer. but…there’s no way that’s him, right???
and then the next year it happens again but this time it’s some one hit wonder country singer kenneth crane that has like 78 tween-run fangirl blogs dedicated to him. you see a grainy video of him being chased by a horde of screaming teenage girls and ??? no way Eliot Last Thing You’ll Ever See Spencer is a country singer star just. signing pictures of his face right…?
a few months later your intern shows you footage of an eliot lookalike who is in san lorenzo talking about how there is dog fighting in the presidential palace and you just. sigh. because of course. a scant few days later the political geography of the country changes drastically and damien moreau is imprisoned. …interesting
and then a year of silence goes by. he still shows up as blips on the radar but he must have a good hacker working for him because his tracks on the internet are expertly erased.
every time you ask through interagency channels some random interpol guy talks in (condescending?) riddles at you and it also somehow feels like he’s threatening you
and then your friend who recently got into foreign hockey teams sends you a dropyourgloves video of someone called jacques the bear. you immediately get a headache (and watch some more videos because even you can admit this guy is a good hockey player)
and you know he’s a Bad Guy but it’s been admittedly a bit entertaining seeing what claim to fame he will come upon next. and his most recent actions over the few years make you wonder.
a few months later your phone pings because multiple heads of state evacuated from DC. the reason? eliot spencer was in town. you hear two days later a bioterrorist was taken down by… the report was redacted. your hacker tells you spencer and two teammates were behind the successful operation. which, huh.
not even a full year later it is released that spencer is dead and… you don’t know how to feel.
Week 12 of my Inner Jedi Notebook journey.
The prompt:
Rey learns much from the sacred Jedi texts that were once housed on Ach-To. What are some books that are important to you, and why?
My answer:
Jane Eyre, by Charlotte Bronte. Jane Eyre is the first “classic” book that I fell in love with. I first read it in the ninth grade and loved it. I learned that not all the classics are boring; my…
Sub Bucky and a breeding kink 💀 dead unlived it's one of my favourite things 😌
This is pretty high up there on my list of dream fantasies 🥵 these are two of my biggest weaknesses, don't even look at me rn
One of life's greatest joys is cuddling with the other person's head resting on your chest so you can play with their hair and rub their shoulders. I love that shit, having someone else's body weight on you is so comforting.
I imagine that's something Bucky would really enjoy too. It's so soft and sweet and tender and getting to feel cared for would really appeal to him.
But that's up until his hands work their way under your top, up over your bare skin so he's able to cup your breasts and bury his face between them while he's getting his hair played with. Life's pleasures don't get much simpler than that.
After a few moments he shifts slightly, tugging the neckline of your shirt out of the way to give himself space to kiss and nip your skin. All of a sudden he's desperate and it's beautiful to watch.
"Please." He whispers between frantic kisses, flicking his tongue over the stiff peak of your nipple before engulfing it with his warm, eager mouth.
"Please, what?" You tease, tugging on his hair just a little for emphasis.
He groans, frustrated by his own lack of coherence, pulling his mouth from your nipple. "Please let me put a baby in you."
That's not what you were expecting but fuck, he makes it sound pretty appealing.
"Bucky-" You begin but he cuts you off, giving your other nipple the same attention as he gave the first. God, that's distracting.
"You'd make. Such. A pretty. Mommy." He whispers, kissing his way down your body until he reaches the bottom seam of your top. From there, he pulls it off, letting it fall to the floor before removing the rest of your clothes.
"You'd look so pretty with a little baby bump." His huge hand rests on your bare tummy, imaging how your body would change.
"I want it, Buck." You mean it too. It doesn't sound like such a bad idea when he's taking his clothes off.
"I know you want it." He groans, rubbing the tip of his dick against your soaked core. "Y-you're so wet."
He presses his hips forward, sliding inside you and you can't explain it but you swear it feels different this time.
"Don't even think about pulling out." You cup his face in your hands, keeping his eyes on you and you almost worry he's going to fuck himself senseless into you. "I want you to make me a mommy. You're going to give me every single drop of cum and when it starts to drip out of me, you're going to fuck it back in."
His head falls onto your shoulder, sobbing a pathetic moan against your already hot skin. The pace of his thrusts matches his need, his hips slamming into yours and when he finally gives in, he cums inside you with your legs clamped around his waist, making sure he couldn't pull out even if he wanted to.