I feel like a lot of people, especially cis people or trans people who's eggs haven't cracked yet think that trans people just know these things. Just know that they are trans, that the reason they are uncomfortable in their body is because they have dysphoria, and while that may be the case for some people its not for all people. I didnt know I was trans for a long time even though I had lots of trans friends because I didn't realize my experience and theirs lined up. I didnt realize the uncomfortable feelings meant something, I didn't realize my hatred of my body meant something, I didn't realize transitioning would make me so happy. It took a long long time to figure that stuff out, and I managed to do it because I had a lot of support. But coming out and coming to terms with your gender and your body takes time. Whether you are trans or cis or both or something else, you deserve to be happy. Experiment with clothes and expression, find the thing that makes you happy. That's all we're ever looking for isn't it? To be happy?
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Shadowbringers is about learning how to live.
Your enemy is stasis- everything and everyone is stagnant, they wait and wait for something to happen, but don't do anything to make it so (because the ones who tried before failed, because they don't know what to do/how to do it). People don't change, they don't try, not really. The crystarium is doing well, it's independent and sustainable, but it doesn't have the reach or power to do much outside of Lakeland. The Exarch is more-or-less confined to the city (because of the tower, because he's waiting for you), so even if he had power elsewhere, he'd be limited with how much he, personally, can do.
Eulemore is filled with mindless indulgence, there's no hardships or labour or anything but luxury for the free citizens, and the bonded only have to worry about fulfilling the task(s) they were brought for. The outside world doesn't matter, hard work doesn't matter, personal fulfillment beyond indulgence doesn't matter, everything exist solely in the moment. The people out in Kholusia have pretty much given up, they stay close to the city in the hopes that this time they will be picked, this time they will be saved. They wait and wait and do nothing but wait. The ones who try to live on are dying out or eventually give up and join the rest in waiting.
Ahm Areang, Rak'tika, even Il Mheg are all just waiting for something, anything to happen. They go day to day, surviving simply because it's all they can. Nothing changes.
Until, of course, you should up. You, who causes a ripple of change simply by existing, who can move the immovable by sheer will. You showed them that things can change, that things can, and will happen, if they just try. You show them that they can make things better, that there is an option besides waiting for a slow death, if they'd just grab fate by the neck and tell it "No. We are doing this my way".
And they do. They rally up together and do what they thought impossible. Not all their efforts succeed(not immediately), but they tried. They tried, they failed, and they got up and tried again and again until it did work. They take the chances, not knowing how it'll turn out (because it's not about whether it fails or succeeds, it's about having tried).
They learn how to try, little by little, and every step they learn what it means to really live.
Endwalker is about learning how to love life.
Your enemy is nihilism- the idea that nothing matters, that there is no real joy to be found that isn't snuffed out by misery. A concept that denounces greys in favor of a black-and-white view where black is all encompassing. Everywhere you go, people are doing what they can to survive, but refuses (or maybe are afraid to, or maybe never knew they could) try to actually save themselves. The Forum plans for escape, to leave their homeworld behind and take whatever they can afford. They will live on, but they won't be saved, no one is saved(and even with escape they aren't safe, Despair is everywhere and She will not stop until all has become Nothing).
The Loporrits love Etheirys, but in the way Winter loves Spring. They know about it, they are so close to it, but they are distant. They're strangers, they've never met. It's love, and it's pure and true, but it's also just love. It's surface-level(because the surface is all they had). Their love is pure but it's instinctual. Programmed. They love because they don't know how to not love. They want to save it's people, save us, but they don't know what it really means to save, so they create refuge instead(because that's what She told them to, because this is how love works for them).
The people of Garlemald are terrified, they are victims of extreme indoctrination, the (deserved) push-back their army got proved them "right"(that we are savage beasts to fear, that they are but prey in the maws of rabid dogs). They want to be build-up again, but what's left for them now? The world hates them(and it's all their fault, the ones who see past the propaganda know this, but who will listen to them?) and they are dying. It's so cold and the fuel is running out. They won't accept help, because they've been filled with the idea that there is no such thing as pure kindness from "savages"(and they are too prideful to question it, to break apart from the illusion that they are surperior, because they're terrified to face the truth).
The sky screams, the earth wheeps and the foundation of existence is overtaken by Despair, misery is around every corner and who knows what will happen now? Where do we go? What do we do? We live and live but for what?
What's the point of it all?
That's the question, and the answer is everything. We live because there is joy to be found. Because there is beauty in the world. Because there are stars in the sky. Because flowers bloom in spring. Because cats purr. Because waves crash against the shore. Because of every single little thing we can see, hear or feel. Because we love and are loved. Because there are things to do and discover. Because why not?
And you tell them this, by letting them see that there is more to life than the little they have seen. The Forum has closed it's eyes to anything but it's own kith and kin, everything outside of Old Sharlayan is irrelevant(non-intervention, always non-intervention) and it takes the entire world coming and telling them "We are here. We are alive, and we will make tomorrow happen." for them to realize they have slowly been killing themselves and what they stand for(you pride yourself on knowledge, but where is your wisdom? What do you truly know of things outside your own bubble? You do not know that which is lived because you refuse to aknowledge anything but the written word).
The Loporrits see Etheirys itself, they experience it's corners and valleys and learn what love can really be. They want to save it, truly save it, because they love and this time it's informed, it's personal(I love you, I love you, and I want you to know I love your loves too).
In Garlemald everything is slow, unsteady and complicated, but it's changing. They're changing. With every person who accepts help the illusion of supremacy and "purity" melts away just a bit, and the wall standing between them and us breaks a little(it will never vanish completely, years upon years of oppression and subjugation and conquest don't disappear like that, but it's a start).
Shadobringers is about learning how to live, but Endwalker is about learning how to love life.
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In a Week by Hozier ft. Karen Cowley
“The raven is death, obviously. When I die, I want a good tombstone—something right spooky. LT’s got something against the underground, though you’d think that would be just his kind of place. That’s alright. He needs to, he can cremate me. It’s not exactly Catholic, and Mam would turn in her grave, but God is a unicorn and no one is pure anymore, so. What’s all that got to do with me?”
Johnny “Soap” McTavish has a journal. Had. It is his no longer.
Simon “Ghost” Riley had dreams—awful ones, the kind that sank claws into his lungs, dragged him into sleep, and then sent him careening out of it. He still has dreams, but they’re different, now. Better. Johnny’s pages have folded themselves under his eyes and gotten into his head, brighter and more infectious than anything else has ever been. It’s more than the past, that rotting carcass behind him, and more than now. Now is nothing. Now is ash. It’s like, it’s like—blinding, is what it is. He’s a blind man.
It is biblical now. Ghost has read it backward and forward and sideways and inside out. When he runs out of things to read, he reads them again, and when that is not enough, he reads between the lines.
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The weirdest thing about going to college for teaching in the united states is the giant CANYON of disconnect between what we're taught and what we actually do in a classroom.
like we're taught how to diversify methods of instruction in order to most equitably reach the diverse populations of our classrooms and inspire them to do their best writing/reading/speaking (im an English teaching major) but then in reality the students in your classroom are insanely below the level they need to be at in order to engage with age-appropriate lessons for them
we're taught how to take common core standards and transform them into meaningful and deep lessons but we're only given 45-90 mins of planning per day (if we're lucky) and the rest needs to be done outside of school or after hours if you can't do it quickly enough, and teachers are always expected to do research outside of the classroom, as well as collaboration, tweaking of lesson plans, etc.
we're told that students crave learning and they crave fun projects and they crave kinesthetic exercises, but then when I try those things in the classroom everyone complains and halfasses their participation, and im lucky if half of them actually pass something in, whether its an assignment, a test, a project, or an assessment.
we're told that we need to have open communication not only between teachers but between teachers and admin and parents, but then im lucky if one of the ten parents I email about their kid failing emails me back, and im luckier if admin takes a behaviorally disturbed student out of my class for insulting me or other students.
like... i guess my point is that teaching education is so idyllic and utopian, and actual classrooms are a goddamn nightmare of behavioral issues, lack of time/resources, exhausting interactions with students who don't want to be there or participate, and insane expectations from students, parents, and admin alike.
Like... no wonder the teaching field is hemorrhaging teachers right now. How can ANYONE work under the insane conditions we're forced to try and teach in. I'm so tired and I'm not even out of school yet. It's actually psychotic.
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