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prototypelq · 5 months

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The Most Unreliable Narrator I Have Ever Seen

soooooo I had a Cyberpunk-obsessed phase pass recently, and this time Johhny Silverhand's character caught my eye. His story, more specifically, and how... inconsistent he seems, depending on each source.

In the game, Johhny acts like a bastard for most of the game. He panic-rages on his first meeting with V, throws many threats around, but is later beaten into the background with the blocker pills Misty gave to V. Even Johnny's friends' are well, they react Loudly to his return. Y'know, make it known his presence alone provokes a lot of anger from them.

Even during his first appearance, when V gets thrown into Silverhand's memories of his SAMURAI concert, the only real thing V recalls is the all-consuming rage that he felt, which he tried to shout out through the microphone, but it never felt like enough.

And doesn't this sound weird then, that the only thing Johnny does throughout the game after that first meeting is help V out? He learns about the Smasher guy hideout at the docks (he does that through dubious means but that's Johnny for you), he helps V out when the seizures become worse, he calmly agrees to Any decision V makes, despite V clearly Not being in any real state to oppose him in the finale of the game, he plans the whole thing with "Alt" so V can get his body back at Johnny's own expense, from the beginning, and he doubles down on that claim at the end of the game.

Do you see the dissonance? The egoist rockerboy that admitted to using his friends to getting what he wants, and the downright self-sacrificing hero and a friend that is Johnny at the end of the game? People change, sure, but this divide is very massive and too sudden, so I wanted to dig into that. And what I've stumbled upon, with the help of canon Cyberpunk materials like the Red sourcebook (or, more specifically, LayedBackGamers' reading of the canon books and his lore videos on different topics), is that

Johhny Silverhand from Cyberpunk 2077 is the Most Unreliable Narrator I've Ever Seen.

Count with me here:

Johhny's personality in general. No matter what your interpretation of him his, it's impossible to ignore that Johhny is very much a people person and he exploits that knowledge and charisma to suit his own goals. If you choose to trust him, then you might have already been played.

2) Johhny has been alone, only his lovely self for 50+ years inside the Arasaka chip. Don't ask me how he is still even remotely sane, I haven't got a clue (hopefully the time as a construct without outside stimulation flies differently and he hasn't felt those 50 years in real time). The thing to mention here, however, is that, being alone with your thoughts and emotions for a long time, having nothing else for entertainment, is a great opportunity to rewrite your own memory of events or emotions you've felt.

3) Lack of a body. The aforementioned constant rage, that was the dominant emotion is Johnny's life (before Alt, at least, if Never Fade Away is anything to go by, and I mean, that's literally a love ballad), is a symptom of his PTSD from his too-young years serving in the corpo war, same as his signature silver hand. I'm not a specialist here, but I do know PTSD, especially for war veterans, is a physiological illness just as much as it is a mental one. Johnny's body literally had trouble living normally after that experience, and knowing this bastard - he never managed to treat that. Existing as a personality construct frees him from the many bonuses of being corporeal, but it also free him from the physiological side of PTSD. His day-to-day existence is fundamentally different from that of the Johnny Silverhand that the world knew 50 years ago, so yes, as a 'time traveler' or a source of information and comparison about the 70's and 20's of cyberpunk world Johhny is not a good source.

4) The chip with Johnny is literary inside the head of another person. The characters in game question, multiple times, just which decisions is V making on his own, and which of them might be Johnny's doing. Not consciously, no, but V and Johnny are clearly not your simple neighbours. They are not your 'close friends that start subconsciously copying each other' too. It is quite possible that the chip with Johhny is adapting to the 'hardware' it is running on, so it is specifically implementing parts of V's personality into Johnny, to minimize the 'friction' between the personality and the body it is supposed to inhabit. Everyone say hi to existential horror)

5) How does Soulkiller ever work? Is there data on how much the resulting engram actually resembles the person it tried to copy? How did the process of copying Johnny go? I can answer the last one - very badly.

Death of Johnny is told in excruciating detail in the Cyberpunk sourcebooks. Johnny died on the floor of Arasaka tower, torn in two by a shotgun blast from Smasher. There is no information on how much time it takes Soulkiller to create the engram from the brain, but it better have finished doing that before Johnny's brain started dying from a lack of blood and oxygen, and he clearly didn't have much time either, considering bisection is not the best for bodily fluid preservation, so it's a wonder the engram even works properly. Plus, during the initial heist to steal the chip with Johnny, the chip was damaged further before the idiots decided to stick an unknown harddrive into their heads to preserve it. Basically, it's nothing short of a miracle, that engram-Johnny is actually a whole damn person, that he can function, think and feel properly (well, as much as Johnny can do those things)

It is very sad that V can't talk to Johnny about this, as the man does blame himself over things he hasn't even done, and he had done enough emotional damage to himself and people around him without that kind of burden on top of it.

6) Johnny's memories are literally false. The attentive reader had to pick this up in my previous point - didn't Johnny die in the hands of Arasaka after they interrogated him? Nope. Nope, and I can say that confidently because,

(drumroll please)

Cyberpunk tabletop sourcebooks! Mike Pondsmith, the creator of the Cyberpunk universe and the TTRP series of games, has worked closely with CDPR writers during the production of the 2077. He oversaw everything, and he says that 2077 is in the same cyberpunk universe too, it's not an 'alternate reality' or anything.

Johnny Silverhand died while trying to buy time for his friends to escape, from a shotgun shot from Adam Smasher. That's it, he died on that floor, there was noone to interrogate, no rooftop helicopter he ran for.

The sequence of 'memories' we see from Johnny's POV in the game is a mishmash of two different assaults on the Arasaka towers, yes towers there were two of them. There is a great video explaining all the small and Major details Johnny's version of events got wrong, because we have the sourcebooks and the text inside. You may accuse me of holding a 'holy canon' argument ... and well, yeah, this is kind of holy knowledge, as it was written for gamemasters.

Still, some of the things in Johnny's version are Major, and while the media certainly covered the whole story extensively with corpo propaganda (oh, btw, Johnny didn't bomb anything, he probably didn't even know there was a nuke involved, he is literally just a scapegoat), there are some holes that a citizen of this world might know and wish to poke. The aforementioned Two Arasaka towers, or the absence of the legendary solo Morgan Blackhand from Johnny's story. Interestingly enough, there is a radiostation of Maximum Mike in-game, who is actually just pretty much Mike Pondsmith, and he does propose a couple of questions the 'official' version of the attack doesn't cover (like, where would a rockerboy even get a nuke, he might have been popular, but that's not just something you find without military contracts, and that means corporations). Another thing is that since Arasaka owns Soulkiller and has had the engram for a couple of decades, it is quite possible they are the ones responsible for messing with Johnny's memories.

So uh, yeah, Johnny is the Most Unrealible Narrator I have ever seen. Johnny of 2077 is most certainly not the Johnny of 2020's, but this might be a good thing. Maybe the 'real' 2020's Silverhand could never have made the progress the engram did, or become such a good friend and companion for V, or maybe he could have done those things too. We'll never know. I really love this story anyway.

#thanks for reading #johnny totally deserves a second chance at life after this why cant he and johnny show alt the finger and delta out of there #so v could live out his days and then johnny would take over #on the other hand johnny is a great example that being an engram is not the end so maybe v could come back in some sort of form later #after giving alt the finger #btw thats not alt either that's probably just an ai that caught little wind of actual alt and just calls itself her #also alt herself might be alive but that story is WEIRD so no idea #cyberpunk lore is great i had an amazing time listening to it and discovering new things #mike pondsmith is also amazing heard a cyberpunk red campaign he mastered and listening to him has been a blast he is a true storyteller #cyberpunk 2077 #cyberpunk red #legends of night city #mike pondsmith #johnny silverhand #phantom liberty #this is the first and last time I praise cdpr after that back to hate for the ps4 version of the game i go #and for refusing to update the game for that platform and for not releasing the dlc for it and for upping the system reqs even higher #ill live to see actual 2077 before I get access to hardware that can run that shit #btw existential horror enjoyers I sure do hope you have heard of SOMA )))#oh i also dont think johnny was that bad in life either like he was bad but rogue and kerry are clearly happy to have him back so the game #must've shown just a very low time for him he had to be a good friend to earn that kind of loyalty still could behave like a bastard tho

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antaripirate · 5 months

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I have this scenario in my head where because Kell is such a dumbass there would have been a time (probably not long after he introduced Lila to Kay) where they were fucking, and she moaned out Kay because he was wearing the mask or they were roleplaying etc, but Kell forgot for a moment because Kay was so new and was like ‘I’M SORRY WHO????’

#this is probably not as funny as i found it lmao #but it seems like the shit he’d do #they’re both so silly #kell has so many identities he struggles to keep track #no wonder he’s always having some sort of existential crisis #god i love him so much #so so much #adsom #a darker shade of magic #shades of magic #kell maresh #lila bard #kellila #the fragile threads of power #threads of power

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heymeowmao · 1 year

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长月烬明 | Till the End of the Moon E35 ° I’m not afraid of turning this stone. I just don’t want to live in the dark.

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goosessideblog · 5 months

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Thinking about A Square being returned wrong. Mirrored. Irreversible

A Sphere fucks up, and puts him down in the wrong direction, wrong side up. It's not like he remembers, but A Square certainly does. When he wakes up- it's too late.

The third dimension never phased him, but what about something so intrinsic as your own body, flipped the wrong way? The world becoming upside-down, having to relearn to navigate the places you called home. And it's such obvious proof of the third dimension, but what if it's all in your head? No one can tell with your features being confined to a corner, you can only try to explain the distress you're going through, but if you try you'll certainly be deemed a madman.

We know his knowledge changed him, but what if it changed him physically? In a way he can never return from? He could've passed it off as the strangest dream, denied it's truth, lived the rest of his life at peace, but how do you disprove something so concrete? Would he think himself insane too, after a while?

Someone let me access a two-dimensional being i have a hypothesis that needs to be tested

#cipherspeaks #flatland #be cautious reading my next tag; its first offence is being an esoteric reference and its second is being homestuck #anyways. its kind of like in HSETAU when SS flips karkat's sprite turn-ways and he has an existential crisis about it. does that to A Squar #can you tell ive been thinking about mirrors lately. i used to be content believing the seventh and eighth directions are a sort of-#-inwards/outwards but then light chose to reflect off certain surfaces in a weird fucking way and i no longer get the easy way out #i still think fourth dimensional gravity (if it exists) would be a constant pressure from every side; both inwards and outwards- and by-#-extent think i should be allowed in the fourth dimension. please ill be so niceys i just want to experience the ultimate weighted blanket #my organs will be fine probably -but the fact is that direction is a separate and mentally damaging thing #uuuuuugh. fourth dimensional beings if youre reading this PLEAAAASE let me be your apostle id be so good at spreading the gospel and i-#-won't even bring up the fifth dimension please please please please plea

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coldercreation · 7 months

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Hi, I'm new here and I really love your Let Me Try series. Can I ask who did you created first? And what made you create them thanks! If you don't mind me asking :) sorry if you answered this already!

Hello and welcome!!<3

Ohh I actually really had to think about this?? Either my memory is really bad or I genuinely just wasn't paying that much attention back when I started writing the first bits of LMT... Because I can't really remember where these specific lads came from? Obviously I didn't foresee how much time I'd be spending with this series in the future and how important these characters would become to me :')

It was supposed to be a quick thing to get me writing again, so everything kind of developed from there with time. I did do some character / background planning etc before I wrote anything, as that's just how I've always rolled with writing and creating characters.

I don't remember too much, mostly that I hadn't been writing in forever, like in years and years, and I really just wanted to get back to it. I do remember being super nervous about posting the first part!🙈 I genuinely thought no one would ever find it, considering it's original work and not a part of some big popular fandom that'd automatically have an audience. I remember thinking; okkk so I just wanna write something and maybe get some feedback on it, and although I'm not really a No-Plot filth/smut writer, filth is universal, so even if it's original work someone might come across it if I make it spicy... big brain moves loll

And then I lured a bunch of yous in with the filth just to punch you in the feels with the later parts of the series >:)

The first one to be created was Nathan though, that's for sure! But I don't remember why how where what etc. He just came to be, and then he was vibin' for a bit, and then I made him suffer a lil because... I dunno, I just felt cute like that 😭 xx

#Thank you lovely xx #I'm having a crisis of some sort #probably the existential sort ??#after realising the over 400K word count #and now realising that I posted the first part of the series in 2019 ???#2019-06-15 #4 years and 4 months ????#first of all #that's like 100K a year #I need to feel more accomplished than I do holy shit lmaoo #but secondly #4 years 😭😭😭#also I'm pretty sure?? I had never written anything spicy before this ??#really just came out unprovoked and all guns blazing 😭

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sacrilegious-skeletal-scribe · 2 months

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the average nutritional value of road salt and the inside of a 9 millimeter casing

i have a secret

i have a secret and i’ve never managed to look my father in the eye while admitting it

and i’d rather spit in your face than tell it to you in confidence

the kind of secret you drag bodily into your grave and hope your stomach buries before the dirt gets that far

i have a secret i’d rather die than tell you and you’re about to figure it out

two and two make four, you can do this slugger

and there is glass in my fingers and slush warming itself on my ankles

and you're staring me down with shaking fingers

and between the two of us i’m pretty sure you’d vomit first if i smiled with my whole mouth

and you’re still just fucking standing there with my life in your hands like it was hard to grab

(i’m wondering idly if there’s enough money in my wallet to palm to you)

(enough to ask you to pull the trigger wavering between my right eye and collarbone)

(the odds of it hitting somewhere solid enough to kill me fast)

(the potential energy of a prayer so i can die, godless but quickly)

(god let me die quickly. god please turn the knife from somewhere i won’t see it coming)

there are spots in my memory like cheap film reel and there’s blood on the ground between us

and i can’t remember whose it is

there’s a copper smell in my mouth and ringing in my ears and i think that might be real

but there’s this look on your face like i bit your mother, or maybe just you

and there’s blood all over the fucking place

and despite who’s holding the gun i don’t think it’s mine

streetlights are creeping down the alleyway like overbearing parents and they’re glinting roughly off every surface they can reach

yellow-white fuzz growing off windows and chainlink fences and a tire well

i can see the back half of a car around your wobbling knees

some old tanker halfway up the sidewalk and throughly in the mouth of the alleyway

i think i'm blacking out and i am so fucking scared i am about to miss my own death and

(i can’t stop staring at the grey-green car)

(paint glittering like soft chalk, somewhere between colors and my legs twinge underneath me)

(cramped and clawing and aching softly, the body willing the spirit to stir, to rise)

(to cross pavement like a dead man, to stumble, upwards and over)

(to rap a line of knuckles against the window, to see if it would break, if anyone is still sitting inside)

(if anyone is about to hear a murder from all the distance of two-hundred feet and a corner office)

(i can’t pull my gaze away, even as the muzzle flashes with the streetlamp mold)

(black then grey than white-gold and gone, sunk into the sea of dark static that surges when i turn my head that far)

(i haven’t been able to see out of my right eye for a couple of minutes now)

it’s not snowing

it’s not snowing anymore

i don’t know why it matters

why relief lives in a clear, starless sky waving down at a blood-smeared alleyway

where my knees hurt and my teeth hurt and i am not in any pain that is going to mean anything

i don’t know how much of me is mixed in with the grime and the slush and the gravel and i’m starting to suspect it doesn’t matter

because i’m pretty sure i’m gonna die here regardless

because it’s skin to cold to nothing, because i cannot feel my mouth

enough of my throat left to know i am not speaking aloud

enough of me left to shiver and ache and watch you from somewhere on the ground

even as the wind tugs hair loose from the smear of blood spilling into your eyes

as mine sting and blister under the care of spilt ends and a breeze made of glass

and i’m starting to think the glass isn’t real

(It’s shredding my mouth and melting in my throat)

(cool and thin and lukewarm while it pools in my stomach)

(a faint whistle from the mouth of the alleyway, deadened in this brick maw of service doors)

(i am half dead and slack jawed and overwhelmingly grateful)

(because from this angle i can slide my gaze far enough over to meet yours)

and i much prefer the version of this encounter

where you are gifted the view of my death

and not just the view of you killing me

#poetry #existential dread #kinda?#it's more of a general #existentialism #than anything else #it's about dissociation and blacking out and the thin visual line between road salt and black ice #i don't know. i'll probably post gore or something next time productivity's been weird #but i promised not to attack myself for that sort of stuff #so i'll see you next time #as always #to you

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justsomeguycore · 3 months

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ten year anniversary of it occurring to me that things were probably not going to start looking up for me is probably coming up around now

#was saying this as a sort of joke before realizing that i’m basically just saying like #i probably had my first real existential depressive episode then #and have really only ebbed and flowed between pretty depressed and less depressed since then #never really being not depressed at all #low grade ambient depression at best #kind of fucked! lol

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elisaenglish · 5 months

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-Hermann Hesse, Steppenwolf-

Draw us dreams of one eternal. Per noctem in nihilo vehi...

#writing #quote #love #life #art #meaning #existential musings #all eternal things #love in a time of...#more than words #laid bare #inside of me #vanish by night into nothing #deeper side of you #intertextuality of sorts #this is how it goes #probably should've been a poem #elisa english #elisaenglish

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littledreamling · 2 years

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Dreamling Inception AU where Hob sinks further and further in the Dreaming, delving through the layers and dimensions of Dream’s realm until he loses sight of what’s real and what’s fake. He knows he can kill himself in the Dreaming to wake up, but he’s convinced that he’s in the Waking; he’s not ready for Death’s gift yet. Not even Dream can force him to return to the Waking, but he can plant the idea that he’s dreaming in Hob’s mind, deep in his subconsciousness, buried in the dust and love of his childhood home. So Hob becomes obsessed with the idea that he’s in the Dreaming and he and Dream “commit suicide” to return to the Waking world.

Except that idea is still there. It’s still hidden in those ancient rooms, convincing Hob that he’s still in the Dreaming. Once again, Dream can’t disavow him of this notion for several reasons, not least of which being that he’s the one who planted the idea in the first place. Hob thinks that his entire life, his entire perfect life, his job at the university, his fellow professor friends, the New Inn, everything is a lie, is a dream. Cue Hob begging Death for her gift, not because he wants to die, but because he wants to return to the Waking, wants to return to his real life.

You can choose how angsty that ending gets

#sorry this is dark #and angsty #I’ve just been thinking about it for a while and it fits really well #what would make a man who can’t die beg for death? questioning his reality would probably do the trick #inception spoilers #sort of #I mean the movie’s been out for like ten years #so idk if it really counts as spoilers #it’s one of my favorite movies of all time #this could even be read as platonic instead of slash #I made one (1) post about breaking Hob and then decided to see how far I could push him in every post since #he’s just so squishy and maleable because he’s such a softy #I want to put him a blender and see how long he can dodge the spinning blades #put that man in an obstacle course of existential crises and horrors beyond human comprehension #I want to see his mind completely shatter under the weight of his own existence #the sandman #sandman netflix #dream of the endless #morpheus #hob gadling #dreamling

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trans-leek-cookie · 3 months

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can someone teleport me to the poolrooms and shoot me so my blood is staining the pristine tiles and water. Nothing should be alive there

#Jesus Christ I just realized that ur cells might temporarily live on after You The Person die. Like i guess it depends on what counts as #Alive but even when ur heart stops I'm guessing ur red blood cells might stay active???? Not to mention the bacteria in your gut #Me: wouldn't it be so cool if there was blood in the poolrooms bc they're so surreal and pristine and the blood would both break that #And yet be perfectly fitting moreso than any living being? Wouldn't that be cool?#(realizes that even after ur brain shuts off your cells probably won't die in perfect sync and some might survive even briefly after YOU di #And that's what causes some sort of existential anxiety attack) what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck #Seriously though sorry if I sound like an edge lord but i want to put blood in the poolrooms bc it sounds so beautiful. The red blue #Contrast and the staining of the tiles itches my brain just right. It's not something you could make a story about it's something you have #Take on it's own. Like you have to let it be an image whether written or drawn it can't be (primarily) a story. Like there's an implied #Story (who took a gun into the poolrooms) but you have to prioritize the spectacle rather than the series of events #Does this make sense? Writing about someone being teleported to and murdered in the poolrooms is fine but #The simple... It's not shock but the way a dead body with deep red blood either laying on the tile or floating in the pool #There's a story but the story pales in comparison to the single snapshot of the moment. I should've been a fish #Like a pufferfish with a beak so I could eat clams I saw a pufferfish eat clams in person one time and it was fuckin incredible literally #Life-changing. It's just like ok. Yeah ok thats right that's how it's supposed to be. I understand now

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slugandthorn · 1 month

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pain and agony of having so much to learn to make more things but I need a job/further schooling to learn but I have to have made the things first

#.txt #Painful cycle unable to find value in my art but I already gave up and I'm already trying again some one needs to make this easier #And I think my life would be simpler if I just focused on drawing over 3D and tech anim but the time it would take #To function at a professional level as some sort of concept artist.#Also fine artist and concept artist community is well. Unfortunately unbearable.#Lacking so much animation experience in 2D and 3D I'm having trouble focusing on it to move forward.#The most experience I have is in 3D character art at this point probably but inability to finish things which also plagues #Every other concentration. As well.#I am sitting alone in the room trying to find something of value to express and it will never reach anyone. Existential dread like.#I think it's the searching for storytelling skills limiting me because I do not have the competitive nature #To be that into raw technical skills. Which is killing my ability to make a portfolio.#If I had more time to just keep on keeping on at my part time job I think I would just make the graphic novel I want to make.#To have something expressed and in the world. And then I could actually focus on technical things.#But this thinking has just become a roadblock it is not feasible but I do have several paths planned I just have to.#Recognize what is useful to me. But not just giving up anytime I have a new idea.#My interest goes between implementing animation within a greater scene and also the technical minutia I think is whats killing me.#Making multiple portfolios at once. Which isn't so bad bc ideally I'd be doing generalist work. But generalist means more time limitations.#My brain is convinced it can just work past time as a factor. Which is how we reach the problem I am having now (need money).#I think something I need to recognize is I've always thought my perspective and understanding of stories held some value.#But that only stands from my own perspective and it does not have value outside of that.#Even if it does reach other people it does not retain interest. And while it benefits me internally. I'm not making a career of it.#Which is fine.#I think the things I valued from story can still be found in technical skills. And anyone can develop a technical skill with some time.#If I keep my focus.#I think that's something close to a resolution I've been looking for. Been needing some profound change in my life and I think the desire #And constant failure of communication has been what's preventing me from moving forward.#I want to go out and do things. That is possible. Focus on skill and ability. Maybe the other stuff will come later.#Digesting this and hopefully not spending my days sleeping anymore.

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phoebespenglers · 5 months

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i have homework. im tired and the sheets have been stripped from my bed for over a month and im too lazy to replace them so i sleep on a bare mattress every night. my room is a disaster. i need to do my laundry. i need to shower but i need to go to bed at 10 for school but i haven't done my homework. im tired. i need to get out of bed and brush my teeth. im tired. i don't want to go to my algebra class tomorrow. i need to write. i need to read the hundreds of fics i put on hold. i need to take more responsibility. i need. to do my homework

#oh fuck after writing it all down. why am i living like this um.#okay. Okay im fine. probably #bee.txt #this was meant to be some sort of poetry but now im just having an existential crisis

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drchucktingle · 4 months

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my masks

hey there buckaroos. due to all of the attention the TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION situation has gotten i am going to take a minute to talk about my personal way as an autistic buckaroo. im going to tell you about my masks.

im doing this for a few reasons, some are good FUN reasons full of love and some are not so great.

lets start with the GOOD STUFF. first of all, i am talking about this because speaking on my way can help other buckaroo feel more comfortable speaking on there own way, ESPECIALLY if they are good at ‘passing’ for neurotypical like chuck is.

unfortunately the NOT SO GREAT reasons im talking about all this dang stuff are two fold. reason one: i have been put into a position of having to explain and justify my needs and boundaries by the TXLA. this is not something that i WANT to be taking up all of my time, but when large organizations do not make space for those who they have pledged to support, it puts us smaller buckaroos into position where were have to defend our existence. it is not plesent but it is necessary.

the second NOT SO GREAT reason is that ‘passing’ bisexual and autistic people like myself are ALWAYS just seconds from being gatekept from folks both outside and inside these communities. there will probably be a day on chucks deathbed where i take off my mask and say hello to this timeline (mostly so you can all see how handsome i am under here but I DIGRESS). i KNOW with absolute certainty (the same way other bi and autistic buckaroos are probably nodding along right now) that when that day comes i will STILL be accused of ‘not being real’ and ‘faking’ because i ‘dont look autistic’ and i have a beautiful ladybuck partner in sweet barbara.

ALL THAT IS TO SAY, i am taking a moment today to talk FOR THE RECORD about my neurodigence and my particular needs. hopefully i will not have to keep diving this deep every time an organization takes a discrimantory action against me, but i will also say this: at least it is a good fight on an important battlefield

anyway buds, here is the story of my way on the spectrum

when i was a young buckaroo i knew that my thought process was different. i could socialize easily, which is unique in contrast to many autistic buds (it is a spectrum after all), but my social ease was for an interesting reason. I ALWAYS KNEW WHAT OTHERS WERE ABOUT TO SAY. it was like a strange ‘human game’ where someone would say one thing and i would think ‘well you actually mean something else’ in a sort of logical way (this is why i later related to DATA from star trek so dang much). at first i remember thinking ‘well i am just NOT going to play along with this human game’. i quickly learned neurotypical buckaroos do not like this, that there is a BOB AND WEAVE to social interactions that must be learned.

later i realized ‘actually if i WANT to make friends and prove love is real then i can do this like an expert because i can SEE the game where most cant’. this got chuck many buds and took me on many adventures. please understand, i am not saying these connections are not important to me, they are just different. they are full of love, but i express this in my own unique way.

HOWEVER, while growing up i felt disconnected from this timeline in other ways, like an alien or a reverse twin trotting along in a world that is not quite my own. i did not feel emotions the same way my buds did. they would get upset over the ‘human game’ interactions and i would not be moved at all, HOWEVER i could see the way sunlight hit a window and start crying my dang eyes out over the beauty. so my emotion was still there and VERY STRONG, i just felt it in more existential ways (like hearing the call of the lonesome train). these days that feeling has progressed to where i am pretty much in a constant blissed out state of cosmic emotional connection (make of that last sentence what you will, but it is the truth). when i make existential posts online i am not just FIRING OFF SOME CONTENT, i really mean every word. this is really my trot.

anyway as a young buckaroo these feelings made me worry sometimes. i thought about various mental health dianosises and marked the parts and pieces that matched with myself. am i this? am i that? sometimes, instead of just being’ different’ i worried i might actually be ‘wrong’.

when i saw david byrne on letterman in my younger days i immediately recognized something connected to myself. i thought ‘wow this is the mystery being solved before my very eyes.’ i could hear it in the music of talking heads too. i started doing research and realized that i might be on autism spectrum, something that was later confirmed by a therapist (back then the diagnosis was called asperger's). it was a glorious and fulfilling moment. i was SO EXCITED TO BE AUTISTIC LIKE MY HERO. i felt very cool because of it, and i still feel very cool because of it.

one of the big reasons i talk so much about being autistic these days is because i want to make sure OTHER buckaroos can have that same moment that i did. they can see chuck and think ‘wow i really like this autistic artist, maybe being autistic is cool’

so what does an average day WITHOUT wearing the pink bag look like for me?

my thought process is exactly like ROSE from CAMP DAMASCUS, which is part of why i wrote the book. we have the same stim (complex order of finger taps), we prepare for social interactions the same way, we analyze things in the same logical trot that neurotypical people might think feels ‘detached’ but for me feels natural (certain reviews of camp damascus are very funny to me in this way. you can tell when a reader is just very confused by existing in an autistic brain for 250 pages.)

from the outside you would not be able to tell that i am on the spectrum. in fact you would probably find me very socially adept.

the problem is, all of that masking can take its toll. i spent years trotting in and out the emergency room, talking to confused doctors who could not figure out the chronic phantom tension and pain that radiated through my body. i eventually accepted the fact that i would either live a life constantly on heavy painkillers or just stop living altogether.

eventually, however, i started noticing a correlation between the way that i felt, and the space that i allowed for chuck and the pink mask. i was exercising that tension, allowing my mental mask of neurotypical existence to take a rest. i started practicing physical therapy and this time THE RESULTS STUCK because i was approaching from two sides, MIND AND BODY. after a while, i got my pain down to about 5 percent of what it once was. i still have flare ups in times of stress, but the healing has been very real and life changing.

lets get VERY specific now. if i attended the TXLA confrence without a mask and gave my talk i can tell you this: i would do a dang good job. i can work the heck out of a crowd and (not to reveal too much about my secret way) I HAVE BEEN KNOWN TO DO THIS ON OCCASION VERY WELL. however, going home from this event i would very likely be in pain. i would likely need to do physical therapy. i would likely need to stim for a while. i would NOT be emotionally fullfilled in the same way. in other words, without my pink mask i can charm the heck out of buckaroos, but THE SPACE OF CHUCK TINGLE IS NOT THE SPACE FOR THAT. the pink bag is a place for me to not have to put up with that tension. it is a place for me to unmask mentally by masking physically.

this pink bag space SAVED MY LIFE and i am not going to risk blurring these lines. if and when that ever happens it will be MY decision, not someone elses. that is my boundary. the part of me that neurotypically masks could handle a library conference in a purely technical sense, but the part of me that chuck represents absolutely cannot and should not be asked to do that without the pink bag. unfortunately, the complexity of this point makes it even MORE difficult for me to think about and takes up even more of my time, because it forces me to START QUESTIONING MYSELF and my own needs. to be honest, that is the most insidious part of other people questioning your identify and refusing to accept your accommodation needs without ‘proof’.

the thing is, while all of this discussion of disability and accessibility is important, i have a much larger point to make by writing these words.

a conference should not uninvite someone with an unusual physical presentation or a strange way of speaking REGARDLESS of it being classified as a disability. it does not matter WHY i look the way that i look and wear what i wear. i should not have to spend all day writing this post instead of writing my next book, just because my sensibilities are unique and my presentation is unusual.

fortunately the solution is very simple: let other people be themselves. its not hurting you to simply accept and nod at the buckaroos you think look strange. let us exist

#actually autistic #chuck tingle #tingleverse #buckaroo lifestyle

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luulapants · 1 year

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Existential despair is so common in a person's twenties, I think, because up until that point, we've had a pretty clear road map for what's expected of us and we haven't had much reason to question that map. There are still a few milestones outlined for us (start a career, get married, make babies) but more and more young people are entering the post-school world and realizing:

A) that career thing just isn't happening like they said it would

B) I'm not ready to get married/I don't want to get married/marriage isn't the sort of life-altering event that it used to be

C) I'm not ready to make babies/I don't want a baby/I can't afford to raise children right now (see point A)

And in the absence of these milestones to shoot for (which one could argue weren't the promise of fulfillment they claimed to be in the first place), what we're left with is this aimless abyss of "the rest of our lives" sprawling out ahead of us with no indication of how it will go or what we should be doing to shape it. Young people start their first jobs, find they hate them, and think to themselves, "Is this it? Am I just supposed to do this job until I'm too old to do it or die first?"

Which is, yeah, really fucking depressing!! So here's my best attempt at an alternate roadmap for young people that don't vibe with the old model. Please feel free to add in your own suggestions!

Learn how you work and what you want out of a job. Unless you've been in a job-specific training program that gives you hands-on experience, your first jobs should be experiments. Learn how a full-time job feels for you, what elements are more or less difficult. Different workplaces have different cultures and expectations - what do you need out of a job environment? Do you need to find fulfillment in your job or is it enough for it to pay the bills and leave you time to find outside fulfillment? Do you want to climb a corporate ladder or are you content to hunker down as long as your bills get paid? This period of experimentation is exhausting and may feel like it's consuming your whole life.

Learn how to make time for things outside of work. Adapting to a full-time work environment often leaves you feeling so drained that you can't do anything but go home and collapse on the couch every day. That's fine - for a little while. But it can also become a habit. You need to learn how to do things after work or you'll go crazy. Go to a trivia night. Start an exercise schedule. Take a class in your community. Find volunteer work. Join a band. You will find that putting more things into your day makes you feel like you have more time, not less.

Find a community. Making friends as an adult can feel impossible. Where do you find these mysterious friends everyone seems to have?? This goes along with #2, though. As you start regularly attending the same activities, you will find that repeat interactions with the same people turn into friendships or at least friendly acquaintances. Say yes to invitations. Get involved in your local community. Strive to be connected enough to bump into people at the grocery store.

Unlearn bad lessons. We all internalize some messed up things when we're growing up. As you start off your adult life, that's the time to actively work at unpacking the things you've brought with you from childhood and deciding which things are helping you and which things are harming you. This might mean therapy or joining a spiritual group or reading new things or just making special time to be in your own head.

Learn the lessons you missed. In this, I mostly mean practical things. "Adulting." Areas of your day-to-day practical life that are causing you extreme stress are probably related to a knowledge or experience gap. Do you hate cooking and cleaning or were you not taught how to do it properly? Are you afraid of making medical appointments or is it just something new you're not used to? Does money make you queasy or do you need to learn how to make a budget?

Find something fulfilling. This can be your job. It can be volunteer work. It can be faith. It can be a hobby. It can be creating things. It can be challenging yourself physically. It can be activism. It can be going for walks in nature. Everyone finds fulfillment in different places. If you're not finding it where you are, look somewhere else.

#adulting #advice

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terriblysheepish · 1 year

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every so often i just wake up and i have so much fucking intent. like there is the intent to work. the intent to read. the intent to write and read. the intent to do hobbies and cook and go out and care about things and just do shit. i have so much intent in my fucking body that it overwhelms me and i just sit in the living room or on a bench somewhere and just short-circuit because my physical body cannot handle all of the fucking intent.

#then i lowkey fall into a deep sort of melancholy at the passage of time and yadda yadda and the existential dread fucks me up #is this a problem?? it's a problem. it's probably a diagnosable problem #but i'm not ready to go see a doctor yet #therin talks #full disclosure but this is one of those days

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tossawary · 4 months

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I think it would be fun to do a "character swaps with older version of themselves" fic with Moshang. A post-canon Mobei-Jun who has been happily married for a while (probably at least 50 years old) accidentally touches some plot device artifact and time travels, swapping places with his 20ish-year-old self. Older MBJ wakes up in head disciple Shang Qinghua's bed where his younger self had been napping.

Younger MBJ lands in his own palace, where he is quickly found and fawned over by Older SQH, who can't help but think this MBJ is so cute. The System quickly confirms for Shang Qinghua that this situation has been sorted into a "multiple timelines" thing, so SQH doesn't have to worry about "protecting the timeline" by doing anything like hiding the fact that he's MBJ's husband. (So, there's an alternate timeline younger version of Airplane Bro now? He's just going to... ignore having an existential crisis about it. Yeah.)

Which is great because Older MBJ would not have thought about this at all as a potential issue. Older MBJ also thinks Younger SQH (Younger Airplane Bro) is incredibly cute and has no problem informing him that they're married in the future. Younger Airplane Bro is trying to figure what the fuck is happening, but he's having trouble thinking over the sound of how MBJ only became hotter: MBJ didn't get much taller, but he did get wider, heavier, more muscular, and hairier. Holy shit. Older MBJ doesn't even have any problems passionately kissing Younger SQH just to prove that they're married. And he smiles! He's so gentle and communicative! Comparatively!

("Luo Binghe is the Demon Emperor in my time," Older MBJ says. "Ah? Who's Luo Binghe?" Younger Airplane Bro lies very badly. "Hmmm, so you did know," Older MBJ says, and then makes some comment about LBH's husband that makes Younger SQH go, "HIS WHAT NOW?!")

Younger MBJ is trying to be cool, not really confused or scared, and Older SQH spoils him rotten by showing off the home that they're made together and how well the palace works to serve and defend MBJ. Linguang-Jun can't show up here because SQH will light him on fire if he shows his face. Younger MBJ doesn't even really like his SQH yet and is also struggling with how good Older SQH looks: a little taller, broader, relaxed and easygoing, answering all of his questions and explaining important things to him, dressed like a beloved demon lord's spouse, efficiently ordering everyone around. "Call me Gege," Older Shang Qinghua said with a wink, and it went straight to Younger MBJ's defenseless heart; he is developing new kinks immediately. Help him.

In the end, after a few days at most, they manage to switch Older and Younger MBJ back without too much issue. Older SQH is a little annoyed that his husband kissed an alternate timeline version of himself, but mostly because he sure would have liked that experience when he was only a disciple! Okay, SQH may have pet Younger MBJ's head and pinched his cheeks and hugged him and brushed his hair a little and shamelessly lavished him with good examples of human affection, but it's not the same!!!

Younger MBJ and Younger SQH in the alternate timeline are left in SQH's tiny head disciple house, completely flustered, sitting next to each other and barely able to look at each other. What. The. Fuck. Eventually, Shang Qinghua manages to say, "Uh, do you want to make out?" at the same time that Mobei-Jun says, "We should get married as soon as possible. Tomorrow."

#tossawary svsss #moshang #fic ideas #mobei jun #shang qinghua #long post #moshang character time swap AU

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