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autumnhobbit · 3 months

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Hi! I was hoping you could talk more about not having friends (at least those around your age), like the reasons behind it and how its impacted you? I'm asking because I get it all too well! My three closest---and, let's be real, ONLY---friends are women I met decades ago, and none of them live within two hours of me so I hardly ever see them at all. Plus, they have lives of their own, and a lot of our friendship is based more on habit and history than anything we share in the present, you know?

Well, I actually did have a decent group of friends in high school, & growing up I felt like I had a lot of friends because you know how it is when you’re a kid, you see somebody and find them interesting, they’re your friend, you both like the color yellow? You’re friends now. But it feels kind of surreal sometimes to think about the fact that I had a friend group in high school because I see myself as such a loner/so fundamentally unlikeable that it kind of doesn’t make sense that I had several friends who I knew from other people did genuinely like hanging out with me.

I’m sure people would like to blame my being homeschooled but frankly I think I had maybe too much unencumbered social interaction as a homeschooled kid, if anything I think the way it was treated was more, hey, the other kids are the same religion as you and are also homeschooled so do whatever there’s no problems. I still dealt with bullying, I’m sure I to some extent bullied others myself. I grew up in a pretty tight-knit homeschool group that had its own dramas and messes and when the official ‘group’ fell apart we still all hung out and went to each others sacraments and such. Anyway, the reason I think it’s relevant to mention is because basically every friendship I had was from this group.

I had one girl I considered my best friend growing up because we had known each other literally our whole lives and we were both the oldest girls in our family, and as previously mentioned were both Catholic & homeschooled. And I was way invested in it. Like, we were gonna be in each other’s weddings type stuff. And I always assumed we’d stay friends. But when we got to being around teenaged she got way big into school (her parents made all the kids get into college early and take dual enrollment/sign up for every scholarship & award) and they never had time to hang out. And even when we did, I was finding that I had different ideas about what I wanted in my life, and she couldn’t understand that & also couldn’t accept it. I feel now that I was somewhat defensive since my viewpoint was so hated in the for some reason weirdly obsessive white-collar community that was the homeschool group, but I would have been accepting of her plans and choices if she had been accepting of mine. But eventually I got tired of always being criticized and beat over the head with my ‘wrong’ decisions and I just stopped initiating, and as soon as I did it was like. Radio silence. Once in a while she’d still talk to me if we were in the same place (some of our siblings are still friends), if she wasn’t busy with her boyfriend. And then she didn’t talk to me at all, and she moved and we haven’t spoken since.

I had other friends in high school, but one by one everybody else moved and got married and started their lives, and I just couldn’t. I was stuck at home with my abusive dad messing all my attempts at independence up and I had no job prospects & didn’t want to go to college. Nowhere to go, nothing to look forward to.

Looking back, I acknowledge part of it was my fault, because I’m one of those people who just assumes that if you want to talk to me you will, and if you don’t talk to me it’s just because you don’t want to. Some people stayed in contact when they left and are still friends with them today. But I didn’t have the capacity to reach out at the time, if it had even occurred to me, so I just let things die. Now I know that from their end it must have looked like I didn’t care too much about them, either, so of course they didn’t talk to me. It’s something I regret, but can’t change now. My problem isn’t lack of caring about people, it’s lack of knowing what my place in anyone’s life is. And I’m still not great at that, tbh. If somebody says ‘we should get together sometime’ I don’t know whether to push for it, even if I miss the person and want to see them too, and so things just slide and before you know it I haven’t seen someone in seven years.

Nowadays I just genuinely don’t know many people my age, and I don’t see them, even. My assumption is people my age are either busting their asses working, in graduate school, already have kids, or what have you, and none of us have the time or energy for others who aren’t in our lane already. Zach’s the first friend I’ve made in a long time, and I probably wouldn’t have if he hadn’t initiated because he saw & was interested in me. And it’s a source of stress for me, because at the same time that I have so much baggage with friendships and feel really jaded and lonely like I’m just not worth being friends with or other people aren’t worth my effort for nothing, I believe friendship is worthwhile and sacred and important and that cultivating them are incredibly important life skills, but I just. Don’t have it in me to do it, and it really feels pointless and hopeless to me. I have some great internet friends, but you can’t at the drop of a hat go antiquing, or go try that new ice cream place, or go to a movie or go to the park, or take a walk or do housework, or any of the millions of things I’d like to share with people. Mostly, I just miss talking. You can’t have the same sorts of conversations with older adults you can have with someone your age who’s going through the same things you are. I have no one to tell when I got my dream job, or promoted. I’ll probably have no one to tell when I finally get a house or a dog, or have a kid, or write a book, or any of those things. And I know I need to change it before it’s too late but I just can’t find the drive to when I’m still so effed up from the last time.

I wish this were more positive or had some sort of ‘but,’ but right now, for me, it doesn’t. I pray sometimes, when I think of it, for God to help me find a good friend, or maybe someone who needs a good friend, and to recognize it and jump on it when I see it. But so far it seems like that’s just not something I can have for right now.

#personal #i’m sorry this is so long but i’m genuinely fucked up on this topic lol #hopefully no one i know sees this #i don’t know if this is helpful at all but it’s the truth so maybe someone will at least not feel like they’re #particularly diseased in this way like i do

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jenniferdiazisatransgirl · 11 months

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Random Story

Hey everyone,

So I’ve previously mentioned on here that I ran away from home when I was 17, but it is actually more complicated than how I make it sound.

Basically, when I was 15 I came out to my Mum. It wasn’t the first time I attempted to come out. My Mum shut me down angrily the first time, which took place nearly a year prior. She tried to convince me it was all in my head and that I’d grow out of it. She didn’t do this in a polite manner though. She didn’t come off as a concerned parent. She angrily yelled it at me.

When I tried coming out at 15 it was no different and I got kicked out 2 nights in a row. The first night I ended up at my grandparents’ and the second night at my Dad’s. I guess the one thing my Mum did each time was made sure I had somewhere to go each night.

Those proved temporary solutions though. My Dad sadly didn’t have the room for me to live with him and my grandparents had too close a relationship with my Mum, it was easy for her to manipulate me from there. There was a small period during my last year of high school where I lived with my grandparents and my Mum continued to manipulate me and invalidate my identity.

The situation as it was unravelling at home didn’t escape the attention of my school. I arrived at school two days in a row without school uniform and my school books when I got kicked out of home 2 nights in a row. Additionally, one of my friends outed me and so the entire student body knew. That inevitably made it up to the staff at the school.

It was a Catholic school, so I was actually pretty scared of the staff finding out. Catholic schools after all have a reputation when it comes to LGBT+ peeps. Granted, I may have made my judgements based on American Catholic schools.

I remember one day, I was in an RE lesson and we had a substitute teacher. At this point, I kinda floated between hanging with the guys and the girls and well the class had a very interesting split. The girls sat at the front section of the classroom. The guys sat in the back section. I kinda situated myself in the middle.

The guys were being idiots though and throwing stuff about the classroom and the substitute teacher said that all the boys (me included) had to stay behind and pick up the stuff that had been thrown. By this point a lot of shit had been building in my head with the home situation. Things at school were mostly okay, but being lumped in with the boys especially when I hadn’t been involved in their stupidity was the straw that broke the camels back.

I left the classroom on the brink of tears and as I entered the stairwell for my next class I just broke down crying. Two girls spotted me and escorted me to my next class, where once I was sat down a few students approached to comfort me. As our teacher entered the class, he asked what was wrong and I just said, “Everything in my fucking life is wrong.”

So he tells this lass and lad who were stood next to me, attempting to comfort me, to take me to the Bungalow. Now, the Bungalow was the place the extremely bad students went, it was where a punishment called Isolation took place which is like the next step up from Detention.

Anyway, my brain is just like, “Okay, I’m being told off for swearing at a teacher. That is what is happening.”

I was seated in a room on my own though and a few minutes later, the Key Stage 4 Pastoral Manager enters. I only knew her as the Head of Detention (not actually a role at the school) though and taking into consideration this is a Catholic school and I was in the Bungalow. The next words out of her mouth shook me to my core, “Now *deadname*, I’ve been hearing rumours about your sexuality.”

I’m not proud of it, but I was terrified of being expelled and I wanted no reason to make the situation at home worse. I screamed in fear, “I’M NOT GAY!”

She calmly went on though and said, “Don’t worry. We just want to support you.”

The school had been monitoring my situation for sometime it seemed. They had made sure most of my teachers had a need to know knowledge of whatever was going on with me, they had already spoken to my Head of Year, Headteacher and the Head of Child Welfare at the school. They were just awaiting the best time to intervene. It turns out they felt me swearing at a teacher was the best time for that and doing it in a place where they generally dealt with the worst behaved students 😂 They maybe should have thought that one out a little.

Anyway, they got a more in depth idea from me of what was going on at home and they got in touch with the local LGBT+ youth group I was attending. They also got in touch with the Local Authority and Social Services.

The 4 agencies had various meetings together and eventually decided that I could not continue living with my Mum. They agreed that I needed removing from her care. However, I also wasn’t in immediate danger. So they sought to put me into supported housing. From this point Social Services took the lead trying to get that in place.

This was a long process though and lasted into college. By the time I was in college, the team dealing with this was my college, the local authority, the LGBT+ youth group, a counsellor, my GP, a mental health professional and social services. All resoundingly on the same page, that I needed removing from my Mum’s care. Also just for you Americans reading this, college is not the same as university in the UK. University is the one with dorms and stuff. College you still tend to live with your parents. You go to college before moving onto university.

It took until the end of my first year at college and I was then eventually removed from my Mum’s care and placed in supported housing.

And this has all been building up to some utterly ridiculous. So one of the first things I had to do in supported housing, was apply for Income Support and Housing Benefits. As part of this process, you have to go to the Job Centre to discuss your claim and hand in ID, etc. And here’s the thing, to get your claim approved you have to have a “justifiable” reason for leaving home.

I explained the situation and why I had left home. They then asked if my Mum had expressly kicked me out and said I couldn’t return. When I said, “No.” She responded by saying it wasn’t a good enough reason to leave home and that I can’t just decide I don’t want to live their anymore.

This being in spite of the fact this was arranged by Social Services, the Local Authority, the LGBT+ youth group I attended, my school, my college, my GP, a counsellor and a mental health professional. She told me it wasn’t a good enough reason to leave home. When there is that level of agency support that lead to you leaving home and like, I got into supported housing via referral from Social Services.

Like it was ridiculous. I don’t know how I managed to get passed that. I know I did, as I did get my Income Support and Housing Benefits but it was kinda ridiculous.

And I know, I got extremely lucky. I had a lot of support in getting where I am today. The house I live in now, I have lived in since I was 18. I know a lot of LGBT+ young people still end up homeless.

I actually do help people where I can too. One of my roommates ran away from home when they were 18. Like me they are trans and don’t have accepting parents. Knowing the process they’d be faced with, I offered them my spare bedroom. They’ve now lived here 7 years.

The thing I was sorta building up to was being told that leaving home due to homophobia and transphobia from my Mum was apparently not a good enough reason to leave home though. Especially given the multi-agency support I had to leave home, that struck me as ridiculous.

#trans woman #transgender #LGBT+#trigger warning #transphobia #my life #miscellaneous

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josefavomjaaga · 2 years

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@northernmariette inquired after the third child born to the Soult family after the end of the empire, during Soult’s exile. The photo above shows this daughter's gravestone in the now abandoned Golzheim Cemetery in Düsseldorf. Yes, the grave apparently still exists today, which is at least a bit unusual for the resting place of a child who only lived a few months and whose family soon moved to another country.

The inscription is given in "Beiträge zur Geschichte des Niederrheins. Jahrbuch des Düsseldorfer Geschichtsvereins 6":

At the central aisle of the old churchyard here, where the child was buried, is a memorial stone with the following inscription:

Domine, refugium factum es nobis.

Ps. 89. 1

Marie Louise Caroline Léonie, née le 27 Janvier, morte le 25 Septembre 1817,

Fille de M. Jean-de-dieu Soult, Duc de Dalmatie, Maréchal de France etc.

et de Dame Louise Jeanne Elisabet, Son Épouse.

Nicole Gotteri mentions some more details: engravings of a butterfly opening its wings on one side of the stone, an overturned torch on the other, on the backside Soult’s coat of arms.

Little Caroline (this seems to have been the name she was called by) was born on 27 January 1817, at 8 PM, in Alleestraße 7, Düsseldorf, where the whole family had rented a seven-room-apartment, according to contemporary newspapers. They lived a very retired life, were – of course – under close surveillance by Prussian police, but also well respected by the locals. As a matter of fact, two members of the local Prussian government were witnesses at little Caroline’s baptism on January 29, in Düsseldorf’s oldest catholic church Sankt Lambertus. Godparents were Soult's mother Brigitte and his younger brother Jean-François, represented by little Caroline's two older siblings, Hortense and Napoléon-Hector.

Even though the exile was a time of trials, in a way it may also have been a happy time for them: the family was able to spend a whole year together, and for the first time the older children really got to know this father, whom they previously had only seen sporadically for a few days between campaigns or during short visits into enemy territory. The birth of the baby, occurring right during this time, contributed a lot to this happiness. According to Gotteri, Soult referred to her as »this divine creature« and claimed she reminded him of another child’s face in one of his paintings (he did not state which).

It was not to last. In July, Hortense transferred to a Paris girl's boarding school to complete her education; Louise accompanied her there before returning. Napoléon-Héctor so far had attended the Düsseldorf Gymnasium and in September was preparing to return to Paris as well. And right at this time, little Caroline fell dangerously sick. She suffered from terrible convulsions, starting at the time when her first teeth were showing. We know this from a letter Soult wrote to Hortense in Paris, on September 25, at the bottom of which Louise wrote:

I am heartbroken [navrée de douleur] about your angelic sister.

Caroline died the same day, at 10.30 PM. Her mother only found the strength to write to Hortense on October 4, a very long, and apparently very confused letter testifying to her emotional turmoil. It’s clear both parents were in extreme distress about this loss. Louise having born a child at the age of 45 (!) - Louise was born on 27 Mai 1771 – must have seemed like a miracle to them, a consolation for the troubles they had to go through, and also for all the time they had lost as a family. It was like they were starting over, together now, with this new family member.

And now Caroline was gone.

Your father and I are in the deepest pain and we will always, always mourn Caroline [...] An hour before her death and after the most horrible convulsions, she still recognised my voice and held my arms; afterwards, she breathed her last with tranquillity, as if she had already been in the bosom of the divinity.

Soult himself wrote to Hortense:

Think unceasingly, my dear Hortense, of the exhortations your mother makes to you, make them the rule of your conduct, and give us the consolation of seeing you justify our hopes. I pray God to watch over you. [...] Always count on the tenderness of your unfortunate father.

Photos: Church Sankt Lambertus and former Golzheim graveyard, today a public park

#napoleon's marshals #jean-de-dieu soult #louise berg-soult #düsseldorf 1817 #second restauration

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truthseeker-blogger · 1 year

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Spare change, anyone?

• She grew up poor

“I grew up on the $4.99 salad bar at Sizzler—it may have cost less back then (to be honest, I can’t remember)—but what I do remember was the feeling: I knew how hard my parents worked to afford this because even at five bucks, eating out was something special, and I felt lucky,” she wrote.

Meghan also added that she started taking on odd jobs when she was 13 “to cover odds and ends.”

• "Meghan Markle's claims that she 'grew up on the $4.99 salad bar at Sizzler' in her 'poverty letter' to US politicians faced serious questions today after it emerged she previously bragged that as a schoolgirl her estranged father Thomas Markle regularly took her to one of LA's most famous restaurants where celebrities gobble up $55 steaks.... Ms Markle shared a picture of its famous sign above a vintage Mercedes with the caption: 'I used to have lunch with my dad here after every tap & ballet class. Happy. Thank you. More please #mussos #hollywood'. The restaurant, opened in 1919 and famed for its grilled meat and fish, is a world away from the cheap Sizzler salad Meghan claims to have been brought up on and is loved by Johnny Depp, George Clooney, Harrison Ford, Brad Pitt and Keith Richards. It also features in many movies including Quentin Tarantino's most recent movie Once Upon a Time in Hollywood, starring Pitt and Leonardo DiCaprio. Its current menu shows Filet Mignon for $55 and a ribeye for $54 as well as seared scallops for $32 and a salmon fillet for $31. Lobsters are priced at the cost they were bought that day. While Mr Markle may not have paid that much for his lunch, but menus from the 1990s show a meal for two would cost up to $75 - 15 times more than the $5 Sizzler salad she said she lived on. Meghan is likely to have gone to Musso and Frank over a number of years, because friends at her $16,000-a-year private Immaculate Heart High School said in 2018 she did dance classes for 'three to four years' in her teens. One critic told MailOnline: 'She has receipts all over her Instagram contradicting her poverty letter'. Another wrote: 'She went to one of the most expensive schools in Los Angeles - but they couldn’t afford to spend more than $5 on a weekend dinner. I mean, during this time, Thomas was working on a hit TV show and had won an Emmy. WTH is she talking about?'"

I will also redirect to the college section where it says in her court papers that her father supported her into young-adult hood. No mention of a job at a yogurt shop at 13, which very much would've been relevant.

"As a student at Immaculate Heart, Meghan was a star in the classroom and in drama class. She was also named Homecoming Queen at the private all-girls school. After graduating from the Catholic school, Meghan Markle earned a degree from Northwestern University."

Now from Immaculate Hearts website:"Tuition for the 2022-2023 school year has been set at $19,800 plus fees."

https://www.immaculateheart.org/high-school-admissions/affording-ih Adjusting for inflation tuition in the mid 90's would be about $10,188.44. (Inflation calculator). Minimum wage in 1995 would be around $4.25 in the US. Now outside the 750,000 lottery winning, what was Thomas making?

"The average Lighting Designer salary in the United States is $55,936 as of September 26, 2022, but the salary range typically falls between $45,431 and $68,467. Salary ranges can vary widely depending on many important factors, including education, certifications, additional skills, the number of years you have spent in your profession"

So use our handy dandy inflation calculator and the average lighting designer made about $30,606.02. Now by that time Thomas had won two awards, and had somewhere around at least 20 years experience so he would've been making more than this, guaranteed. So $4.25 x 40 = 170 and 170 x 52 is 8,840. So average yearly earnings of most Americans was probably between 10,000 to 15,000 a year per person, give or take. Thomas salary if he earned average pay was 2 to 3 times that. The rule of thumb is that an upper class income is roughly 50% higher than average, placing Thomas by himself in no less than an upper middle class bracket even with Meghan's tuition deducted. None of which taking into account her mother's income as a Social worker/Travel agent.

Not counting those infamous dance classes and family vacations. There's a link to an article by the Chicago tribune below but here's a taste. (She also lists herself as an only child.)

"I got the travel bug quite early," says Markle, who portrays Rachel Zane on the series. "My earliest memories are of going to Mexico twice a year and Hawaii quite a few times. We never did conventional family trips like Disney World. Hawaii and Mexico were closer for us than going to Florida or the Caribbean."

When eating out 3 or 4 times a year off the dollar menu is a treat, that's growing up poor. Meghan grew up upper middle class at worst. Complete and total nonsense. What poor person can afford Mexico twice a year? Asian Spas? Dance classes? You're not taking swim classes unless they're free, and private school, forget about it.

https://www.chicagotribune.com/travel/ct-xpm-2013-02-12-sns-201302120000-tms-celebtrvctnct-a20130212-20130212-story.html (Vacation Article)

https://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-5137785/Meghan-Markle-revelations-friend-knew-best.html (More vacations)

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villanevehaus · 1 year

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How do you stay so consistent with the characters? I’ve never once read a line in your fics that seems out of character, everything is so seamlessly integrated. second part of this ask

First of all, this is a massively impactful compliment about my characterization(s) and I will be thinking about it for probably 10-12 business days so thank you for that!

Secondly, I really wish I had a better answer for you, but I truthfully don't know! I'll give some general things I've noticed I tend to do with characters, though?

In my other response to your ask about the writing process and outlines I mentioned having a character's timeline established in order to inform their actions and I think that might be the biggest factor in consistent characterization? Although TME features by far the most complicated versions of Eve & Vil I've ever written, I still have a sense of what happens to the characters before the first chapter in every other story.

In Borrowed Boots, the way that Ox acts around Eve in terms of visibility (being careful about being caught, being mindful of safety in ways that Eve may not be) is shaped in part by her experiences with Anna and how the fallout of that impacted her life in Reno- consciously or not, she's trying to help Eve avoid that same kind of social alienation. In Eve Undone, Eve doesn't recognize her attraction to Villanelle as more than platonic because she has no frame of reference for real attraction: her parents are strict and Catholic, so it made 'sense' to follow in their footsteps and marry Niko, a strict, Christian man & pastor. Even if I don't have an outline/timeline for these renditions of their past (TME has 10+ pages, My Sweet Girl and Thin Walls have nothing because it's so straightforward), they still shape the characters and how they'll react to different events.

I think in all of my stories but especially TME (and definitely My Sweet Girl's later chapters) I take advantage of the formatting to control how the reader interacts with the story's information through the characters' perception. The obvious is simple: writing events and facts.

[Eve notices that Villanelle's hair is in an elaborate style of braids that come together at the back of her neck and wonders if she did it herself.]

This is both a description of Eve's physical actions (noticing) as well as her internal thoughts (wondering).

Most of the time I'll format explicit thoughts/inner monologue stuff with italics as a clear indicator- maybe they're asking themselves a question, or mulling something over:

[Why Alana? Why not me?]

I'll use it to also act as a memory, too:

[If you can call what she does journalism.] isn't just Villanelle's thought, it's an echo of something Eve said previously.

It can get really fun when there are a few more complexities: in Oksana's chapter, she doesn't have the perception of events that an adult might have because she's a child- but you, the reader, do. You know Vilen is dead, but Oksana doesn't fully understand that that's what happening, so she wants to wait for him to wake up. I think this makes it both more impactful and more in line with the character of Villanelle as an adult because it fleshes her out more and kind of builds on that Show, don't Tell aspect I talked about in the previous response. I'm Showing you that Oksana is a child through how I write her (not having a complex vocabulary, not understanding certain words, having a childlike innocence, etc) instead of simply Telling you that she's a child but writing her in the same way that I would write her as an adult. While Oksana and Villanelle are the same person, they're different characters that are in some ways pieces of the other. Oksana- the child who was beaten, starved, forced by desperation to eat human flesh, and watched her uncle die- has nightmares about all of that, but Villanelle- the woman who was formed around Oksana, top of her class in medical school, ultra-successful surgeon, highly sophisticated serial killer, revered and respected psychiatrist- doesn't, because they didn't happen to Her, they happened to who she isn't anymore.

Another aspect of this is character beliefs and truths! A super good example is from My Sweet Girl is when Nelle is at the peak of her psychosis.

There's no more rigidity or consistency of formatting here! Her perception of everything is distorted because she's in psychosis, therefore everything (thoughts, internalizations, memories) is formatted as an objective truth. Pink is another character's [Helene's] dialogue from previous chapters, yellow is a previous thought, and green is something that the reader knows is impossible... but to Nelle, it's just reality. In a less extreme example from TME's Bill chapter, Eve doesn't think to herself [I should have listened to him], it's formatted as an objective truth [She should have listened to him] because in Eve's perspective it's not a thought, it's the truth. I think this has the power to massively impact characterization because it offers another Showing aspect into their thoughts and feelings without being Told about their thoughts and feelings.

And! Physicality is a huuuuge thing I rely on. I don't Tell you that Eve is uncomfortable, I Show you her fidgeting, wringing her hands, crossing her arms, pacing, avoiding eye contact. Unless it's happening through the phone or with some other obstruction in the way, conversations are so much more than dialogue!

I hope this kind of answered your question? I think before typing this all out I was of the mentality that the way I write characterizations is pure vibes but maybe there's a lil more to it oops.

#tme posting #asks #anon33 #yet again i am surprised at just how many brainworms i have #process

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beaversatemygrandma · 1 year

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So my older younger sister is in town for thanksgiving. The college one. The goth who proudly walks through a catholic school wearing pentagrams and shirts with 666 on them. Great kid. Well, once she got a job at the restaurant next door to my work, our social lives became oddly connected even tho we never hung out with each other, just the same person in his opposite circles. And this person? The mentioned fuckboi who crashed on my couch for like three months and brought me and some other girls together. If anybody remembers the story of the fuckboi and all that, my sister has the fucking continuation of it and I’m still SCREAMING over the development in the Same Fucking Story because fuckboi is still on his bullshit, but now with my sister’s ex best friend from high school.

So, after the whole act the fuckboi pulled with me and those other two girls from panera, he slipped over to the arby’s next door where he was the slightly elder ‘i’m possibly in college’ type of person. (You know, you have the high schoolers, ‘college’ kids, and then everybody over 25. He went from being the just graduated fresh out of school one to the ‘college’ one. And he picked up another few girls.

The worst part is: Boi was a manager there. The same boi who decided that he wasn’t moving with his parents to another city and decided to live on my fucking couch.

He didn’t stop the fuckboi shenanigans. Now, with these fresh out of high school girls and him being in his gap years, he ended up settling into a relationship with my sister’s friend. Now, my sister, being the good friend who very much knows about what this guy did with me and my friends, she goes to her friend and says “He cheated on his ex, and is currently cheating on you.” etc etc. To which her friend vagues her on tiktok about “Knowing *fuckboi* would never do that to her” meanwhile my sister is just like, “K. this is your problem now. Bc he’s fucking this other girl i know.” Then fuckboi joined the air force, gets ‘military married to’ her, still sleeping around but he’s ‘absolutely dedicated and loyal’ to this girl. And this girl left all her damn friends behind bc every one was like ‘he’s not good.’

And. well. he’s not good.

Then as my sister tells me this story, she digs up the evidence of the vaguepost and shows me it. Fuckboi has gone from kinda cute, kinda weird, kinda hot, to looking like he just got drafted and kinda weird-looking. (He has a damn clean shaven face and a buzzcut and i do not know this man and cannot believe that i previously was a partner of his)

Anyways, he’s in the Air Force now and still fucking around literally everywhere yet engaged to some girl he’s been dating for less than a year. I’m still screaming about this. I don’t know who that man is anymore. It’s only been two years since his last girl (same one i was friend with) got sick of him and kicked him out and I’m becoming convinced that he can’t afford to live on his own without a girlfriend with a home because his parents went across the state so he keeps getting girlfriends to live with all the while still being a fuckboi.

And the Air Force. It at least explains the box of flight simulator gear i had sitting in my dining room for three months.

ENGAGED. HE’S 21. WHAT ARE WE? cHILDREN?? TF ARE YOU ENGAGED FOR?

He hasn’t deleted me on snap yet and there’s a chance i could really fuck something up if i wanted to. But I’ll let this girl live in her deluded happiness with him until he messes around with my sister’s life again.

Also, suddenly remembering the time this boy told me I had a ‘bad boy complex’ because he was such a bad boy and that’s why i had feelings for him, not like he was a close person to me who i was sleeping with or anything. Bad boy. He called himself a bad boy. Dude. You don’t know bad by a long shot and are literally a lawful citizen in EVERYTHING other than your cheating and that you can drive 90mph in a fucking prius. Just because you were sleeping with somebody who was 22 when you were 16 and drinking doesn’t mean you're a ‘bad boy’. (It wasn’t me, he was 18 when around me and STILL Boasting about that.)

He was a rich kid who came to the south part of town to sleep around more after his whole adventure there. I can’t even with this kid.

#taks speaks #i swear. i can't even say i saw this development coming #it hit me like a damn truck on the freeway #anyways have a ramble pretending to be a storytime

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nicos-archive · 2 years

Text

Chapter 2 of the catholic school au

[Text: 1.0]: Hey so I can’t stop by the school I got dentition again

[Text: He’ll Spawn]: Ohhhhh I’m telling Elly~

[Text: 1.0]: Don’t you dare!

[Text: 1.0]: Anyways

[Text: 1.0]: I told my friends I had a twin too and they got excited. Maybe we should have a party or something?

[Text: Hell Spawn]: One step ahead of u bro

[Text: Hell Spwan]: I’m thinking if we can’t have it at our place we go for karaoke

[Text: 1.0]: cool

“Well it looks like my brother has detention again.” Jennifer announced.

“He seems to get those a lot. What’s his problem?” Kat asked as she came out the stall.

All she could was shrug her shoulders in response. She supposes she would use this time in the bathroom waiting on her friends to come out to fix her makeup up. Sadly, her school didn’t allow it. She wondered if it was a catholic school thing or a girls only school thing. Maybe a mix of both. Either way, she has no prior experience to help her come to a conclusion.

“It’s probably just a boy thing. I mean, boys are always trying to prove themselves.” Flora says in a huff. The other two girls can only just nod in agreement.

Flora then fixes her uniform as the other girls come out the stalls.

“It’s a shame, though. I wonder what the boy version of you looks like.” Dianna sighs.

“You act like I’ve never shown you a picture of him.” She sighs in turn.

“I’m sure a picture doesn’t do it justice. Plus, in person we get to see how alike you guys are.” Lina adds in.

She has to resist the urged to roll her eyes. Why do they have to make such a big deal about this?

“Regardless, I’ll meet back up with you guys in bible studies.” Jennifer said.

“What about Study Hall?” Flora speaks up as the group makes their way to the hallway.

“Sister Beatrice is out visiting the Convoy I think, so she asked me to play piano during the choir's practice.”

“I didn’t know you could play the piano! Who knew you were hiding so many secrets!” Diana gasped.

“That’s because you forgot I was a part of the band.” She responded quickly.

“Oh.”

The girls just laughed at the back and forth.

“Honestly, Dia you would lose your own head if it wasn’t attached to you.” Lina then empathize her point by poking her younger cousin’s head. All she got in turn was a glare.

“Whatever.” Diana huffs.

“I bet you she forgot about the report in social studies.” Flora said.

“Wait. That was due today?” Diana shouted.

“Good luck!” Katya said before Lina and Jennifer followed her. The first two being a part of the previously mentioned choir. Leaving Diana with an amused Flora. Well, at least she was going to Study Hall.

#orginal writing

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aquarianpriestess · 2 years

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Awakening

Today I want to talk about where all this started (yes, I’m aware it’s been a LONG time since I started this blog haha SORRY!!). I wrote this a while ago but it’s just been sitting in my drafts.

I’ve always been a very spiritual person but there was a point in my life that I strayed from it in a formal sense. My relationships with people weren’t doing well as I kept surrounding myself with more and more people who just weren’t good for me. They themselves were not bad people, just not people I meshed well with. I kept to myself a lot in high school, then in college, I was blessed to find a few wonderful people who kept me sane, but ended up in another group of people who were toxic for me. I let myself believe their opinions of me defined me. That, somehow, popularity meant their way was the best. It really broke & wore me down. I let it steal my identity & confidence for a while.

Shortly after graduation, I started working at my current company where a similar pattern was emerging. I was involved in a group of people that made me feel like I wasn’t good enough. One person in particular essentially chose me as a friend and we ended up really close. We hung out often, talked on the phone, etc. But then a few “more popular” girls came into the picture and suddenly I felt like I wasn’t worth her time. Almost like she made it a point to avoid me so she didn’t lose any “cool points” lol

At this same time, I was dating a guy in our group. He’s a great guy, but we did not work well as a couple. We fought constantly. In retrospect, I think it’s because we brought out each other’s insecurities, which I actually see as a blessing. He unintentionally saved me from my own chains and I’m forever grateful.

I was getting to the point of feeling the most lost I had ever felt as these relationships grew more painful. I placed more and more blame on myself for not being good enough. For not being knowledgeable of the “mainstream” stuff.

Then, in October of 2014, I was at brunch with some of these girls and ended up being the topic of conversation upon leaving the table for a few minutes. Gossip. It’s such a hurtful, empty thing. A mode of filling a void with dead air (AKA unfulfilling lol). The girl who I had previously been so close to informed me of this hours later but would not tell me who spoke about me because her friendship to me wasn’t worth losing her popularity with the ones who talking behind my back. I confronted those involved which turned into a big mess but also a blessing. Not too long after, the core girls of that group had a HUGE falling out because of - you guessed it - gossip. I’ve since found way better friends and maintained friendships with those wonderful people from college I mentioned a little bit ago :)

Here’s where everything changed. A few weeks later, my roommate asked me if I’d be her friend’s date at a wedding. It was a Catholic ceremony, which is the religion I grew up with (more on that later), so it was refreshing to get into a church.

I’ve been to countless masses, but this mass in particular was different. When the priest said “Christ has died, Christ has risen, Christ will come again,” I instantly had a revelation. These words meant something SO different in that moment. To me, it was a realization that Jesus isn’t going to come back as an individual... no no no. He was coming back through each individual. He comes back through us when we realize our own internal strength, power, divinity, and light. That WE carry the answers to peace through eternal, unconditional love. It’s generally referred to as Christ Consciousness.

This realization has changed my life. And on that note, To Be Continued lol

A few topics to come:

Christ Consciousness without Blasphemy & the current Perversion of Spirituality today through the mainstream

The Nature of Satan, His Demons, and Hell (it’s not what you think, and no, this isn’t about Satanism or Satanic Worship... I promise it’s Christian Friendly lol)

My relationship with organized religion and how it shaped my beliefs today and strengthened my relationship with God

My Twin Flame Journey & How/Why I moved on without throwing it all away

How this is all playing out in the world today (I can really only speak to the United States because it’s my direct experience & culture)

Whew... I’ve had a LOT on my mind hahah but these are a couple things you can expect

#spiritualawakening #religion #growth #friendship

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truecrimecrystals · 2 years

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Alicia Navarro has been missing since September 2019. The young teen was just 14 years old at the time of her disappearance. She lived with her family in Glendale, Arizona and was a student at Bourgade Catholic High School. Alicia is described by her family members as a sweet and intelligent girl. Various reports state that Alicia is on the autism spectrum and struggles with social anxiety. Prior to her disappearance, Alicia preferred to spend her free time at home on her Xbox. She enjoyed gaming and was very active in the online gaming community. During the early morning hours of September 15th, 2019, Alicia left her house. She never returned, and her family has never seen or heard from her again. Alicia's mother Jessica Nuñez noticed that something was amiss around 7:00 AM. The back door to their house was opened, and chairs were stacked against their backyard fence. Jessica then went to check on Alicia but found her bedroom empty. A note was left behind that read "I ranaway [sic]. I will be back, I swear. I'm sorry." At that point, it became clear that Alicia snuck out of the house and had stacked the chairs against the fence so she could climb over it and exit the property.

According to family members, running away is extremely out-of-character for Alicia. She reportedly preferred to follow a strict routine, which is common for people on the autism spectrum. Due to this, it seemed incredibly unusual for Alicia to leave on her own accord. Her mother told reporters that "in the past, [Alicia's] sweetness had been taken advantage of, and online predators had attempted to make contact with her." Alicia's family fears that this time around, an online predator was successful in grooming and luring Alicia into running away. It has been difficult for investigators to track Alicia's online activity, as she brought both her laptop and cell phone with her when she left her home. There has not been any digital trace of her since she left.

Alicia and her family members got along well, and before vanishing, she never indicated that she was unhappy or wanted to leave. However, Alicia's mother Jessica noticed some changes in her daughter's behavior during the months leading up to her disappearance. Alicia had a new-found interest in comic books, classic rock, fitness, and protein powders--all things in which she had never previously shown interest. She also began using fragrances and makeup, which she never liked to use in the past due to her sensory issues and desire for a strict routine. With all of this in mind, Alicia’s family fears that these new interests were influenced by an online predator.

An article on Alicia's case from uncovered.com states that the last sighting of Alicia was reported on September 20th, 2019--five days after she ran away. The article says "someone who knew Alicia personally mentioned to her mother and investigators that the day before, on September 19th, they saw Alicia at La Pradera Park, a park approximately 1.5 miles away from her house. Multiple witnesses corroborated seeing a girl that looked like Alicia." Some of these witnesses mentioned that Alicia was seen walking with a black man with several visible tattoos on his hands, neck, and face. There have not been any other confirmed sightings of Alicia since the early days of her disappearance. Alicia's family members believe that she fully intended to return home. Although she brought her laptop and cell phone with her, she did not bring the chargers for either device. Alicia also did not bring any extra clothes. It has been theorized that a predator lured Alicia out under the guise of gaming together, and said predator forced her into sex trafficking or harmed her in some other way.

Alicia remains missing today. Her family continues to fight to find answers about what happened to her. If you have any information that could lead to Alicia's whereabouts, please go here to submit a tip.

#alicia navarro #missing child #missing girl #missing person #unsolved disappearance #true crime #true crime original #tcoriginal #online gaming community #true crime research #2019 #arizona

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siriusmydeer · 3 years

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smut req: being risky with sirius in the showers in the locker rooms after his quidditch practice (omg gia im sorry lol)

caught in the act

sirius black x fem!reader

summary: you and sirius get caught in the locker room showers together.

word count: 1.5k

warnings: penetration, pet names, dirty talk, teasing, choking, getting caught, exhibitionism, mentions of voyerism.

a/n: in my catholic school, during math class, writing smut. sounds v gia to me.

“darling, you don’t want us to get caught now d’you?” he crooned into your ear affectionately and in faux-fright as his hand danced around the hem of your skirt that had been pushed up from his needy touch of your skin. his lips previously nipped small marks of blooming red hues at your neck, his presence evident at your short puffs of air and small splotches of red transitioning to violet on your neck by the minute; his tongue previously drawing dainty swirls on the flushed skin under your ear, your whimpers only persuading him to continue in the public area of the gryffindor locker room.

his fingers buried themselves gravely underneath the hem of your black lace underwear, just at the sight of your jutted lip in limited-patience for his warm touch. your flushed-skin feeling the calloused pads of his fingers glide flawlessly through your cunt. the sight of him beating away bludgers belligerently without the bare amount of effort it usually took others was enough to have you clenching your thighs together as you cheered for the gryffindor male.

he caught the hint as soon as your legs crossed whilst he was mid-flight and sirius caught sight of the impatient recurrent bounces of your leg, suddenly taking several missed opportunities to tease you to the point where once he had finally landed you were anxiously clawing at his uniform in the quidditch lockeroom. “ahh— patience puppy.” he began to chastise you at your desirous whines while pulling on the bottom of his vermillion-hued uniform.

“please— i need you.” it was like your small plead was a rapid switch in his creativity-roaming brain, trying to contain every single sound while students chatted amongst each other just outside the locker room. it was almost a guarantee they would hear— at first sirius wanted to refrain for your sake of embarrassment, as you were a prefect, but now all he wanted was to be buried inside you with the whole of hogwarts students who yearningly pinned after you, hearing how he could make you feel at his very decree.

his hand grasped onto the column of your throat, slightly catching you by surprise but before even uttering a word of confusion he hastily placed his lips on your own; his own desperation taking over his clouded mind. without a warning be shot his tongue directly into your mouth, tasting your recurrent mango lipgloss directly onto his tastebuds every time he kissed you— it was familiar like your tongues greeting, similar to old friends, just tremendously more passionate.

the next thing you heard was the clatter of metal, feeling the small tinge of discomfort at first, realizing you were now pinned up against a vermillion locker with sirius’ small scribbling along with smeared ink all over it. your lips that were once melding like glue, and tongues prodding each other were seperated for a moment. at the anxious flick of sirius’ wand, hot water was streaming from the closet shower, the glass fogging up in merely seconds that could slightly cover up your bodies from any peering eyes that could interrupt the both of you.

you both glanced at the other for a moment, his pearl irises hastily gaping on every detailed aspect of your face; your eyes, the creases in your eyebrows, the pout of your lip, it all drove him absolutely mental in the best way possible. his hands now rapidly opening the buttons of your uniform top, as well as your pleated skirt. your own hands nimbly tugging the maroon and gold jumper off of his torso, pausing for a moment to appreciate the sweaty streaks that were glazed onto his clenched and over-worked abdomen from the quidditch practice he had partaken in.

the heavy sound of the water pouring out of the stream that directly landed onto the ivory tiled floor was heard amongst the teenagers heaving breaths as you both rapidly disarrayed each others clothing and made way to place yourself’s under the searing stream of water.

you hair was clinging to the nape of your neck as you were in a familiarly lustful position with your boyfriend, this time under the scorching shower head; sirius’ hand grasped onto your throat yet again, pressing you against the shower wall in the midst of a passionate kiss. the stream gliding through your body’s, chest to chest, without any room between the couple.

the prod of sirius’ prick was felt directly on your inner thigh, taking tutelage of the situation you placed your legs in a lock behind his back— in the direct position you had been desperately aching to be in for the past hour and a half of watching sirius stride through the air effortlessly on his broom, and his uniform sticking to every nook and cranny of his torso showcasing his an structure to every female sat upon the quidditch stands; a tinge of jealousy still remaining from all the girls fawning over your boyfriend.

“you’re sure?” the murmur was barely coherent, but it was still heard from the close proximity that you both had been sharing for the past ten minutes. the vibration of his words directly hitting your pouted lips as he patiently waited in response for your consent to continue. “yes, need you, please.” you confirmed with the anxious shake of your head.

aligning himself he took the tenacity to steadily push himself into the warm walls of your cunt, you body clenched suddenly as he waited for you to adjust to his substantially sized prick inside of you. he waiting for the shake of your head to continue before he took it upon himself to hold you against the wall of the shower and pace himself in the deep walls of your cunt before starting a paced speed before gaining velocity.

pure skin on skin being shared between the two teenagers, the thrilling feeling of adrenaline shared thickly through each other’s kisses running directly through your blood stream like recurrent laps around the quidditch pitch at the mere thought of someone watching sirius claim you for himself in such a public area. the sound of the falling patter of water mixed with the slap of each other’s skin was prominent; the lingering sounds of hoarseful grunts and moans from the rapid pace that was set from the beginning of his thrusts and only continued as he edged you both further to release.

“my desperate little puppy, begging for me.” the mockery of his words had begun, while he thrusted deeply into the walls of your clenched cunt. your brain bleary in pleasure, too distracted by the way he was inside of you too even nod at his words, you could barely even acknowledge his voice; only finding the will to whimper subconsciously as it travelled from the crevices in your throat directly into his ear.

“cant even mumble a word f’me, getting all fucked out are you?” he began to question your unresponsive figure, he knew you couldn’t answer and just further got off on the fact that your only focus was how he euphoric he could make you feel all at once. the squeeze of your neck from his hand, that had remained on your throat, at the sides evidently brought you to where you were as he awaited your response to his mocking words.

“yes— yes i am.” you finally muttered as the quick broil in your belly started to swirl through your bloodstream recurrently like lightning bolts ready to loop around the crevices of your spine and finally ready to spill into the depths of your awaiting cunt.

the twitch in sirius’ cock was predominant as he was close to his release as well after teasing the both of you for such premeditated amounts of time, “gonna cum, gonna finish.” you hummed into the coagulated air, that was dense from the steam of the shower and the arousal that set into the ventilation system, as he pushed one final thrust inside of your trembling figure the squeak of the door rang through your ear like violent alarms bells ringing like someone had stolen one of the most pristine items in the world.

while in the midst of your elated orgasams both overcoming your sweaty bodies being coated in the scorching water of the shower, while the feeling of sirius releasing into you was overcome in arousal. the tinge of fright started to become more prominent as the seconds ticked of whom had just walked in on you and your boyfriend intensely having sex meters away from them.

“sirius? where is he” you heard the familiar whisper of the quidditch captain, james mother fucking potter, the boy who could never shut his trap walk in on you and sirius having sex. he whistled in thought as he padded in around the locker room in a stroll for his best mate. his eyes starting to crease at the clothes scattered across the floor.

you glanced at sirius with wide eyes as the footsteps became more coherent to both your ears, sirius paused at the whistling numb down, his body frozen inside of you as a small skid was heard on the ground and a heavy sigh following.

“sirius, in the showers? really mate?”

taglist: @sirius-animagus @ronbrokemyheart @aricela @kirascottage @five-cups-of-coffee @myloveforluna @abbott27 @hufflepuffsfordraco

just a reminder i have a seperate tag for nsfw so if you wanted to be tagged in nsfw content go check out my taglist in my navigation!

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thunderon · 3 years

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O knowledgeable one, as someone who isn't Christian and is not at all interested in God and has zero understanding of biblical references why is the name Wake significant?

*looks around* who, ME??? i don't know about "knowledgeable" but i do have fifteen years of bible school under my belt and dated a catholic girl for like 3 years so i'll give it a go. im hardly the first person to do analysis on wake's name, but i have yet to see someone specifically talk about “wake” and “the sleeper” and all the biblical implications behind it so i guess i'll do it. i personally made a few extraneous connections that i haven’t seen examined anywhere so im going to hit on those right now. this isn’t so much a theory post as it is filling you in on some background of specifically the biblical significance of wake’s name.

buckle up anon because you are about to see the result of what happens when you ask a lesbian who was put through 15 years of church about the Bible.

first things first.

as it’s been previously pointed out: Awake These Valiant Dead is a Shakespeare reference from Henry V, but that’s only one line. i think people are missing the biblical reference from Henry V.you can read the full page here if you are so inclined (x)

but before line 138, where Wake's name is from, we get this excerpt starting on line 121:

“For in the Book of Numbers is it writ:

“When the man dies, let the inheritance

Descend unto the daughter.”

Gracious lord,

Stand for your own, unwind your bloody flag,

Look back into your mighty ancestors.

Go, my dread lord, to your great-grandsire’s tomb”

this has some major implications, so let's unpack it.

as a non-christian, you are probably asking: what is up with the Book of Numbers and why do you think it's important?

basically, the Israelites were held as slaves in Egypt and were liberated by this guy named Moses. Moses is tasked with taking the Israelites to the Promised Land (which is basically a paradise where God said the Israelites can go and live). the book of numbers is recounting this journey to the Promise Land. in the bible, the Israelites find the Promised Land, which is called Canaan (hmmm where have we heard that name before?). the Israelites send 12 spies to scout the land and the spies come back and report that it’s “overflowing with milk and honey” (i bet you’ve probably heard that phrase) but there’s also these giants living there. the Israelites get too scared to take the land, which pisses off God and he goes “fine. y’all can die in the wilderness then. this land will be for your next generation since u guys wanna pussy out”. okay that’s not verbatim but it’s the gist. the book of numbers eventually ends with the Israelites needing the cross the Jordan River and the Promised Land is left for the next generation to inherit. obviously muir draws on these aspects from canaan house and the river in her books. now back to the quote i pulled from Henry V and Wake's name:

“For in the Book of Numbers is it writ:

“When the man dies, let the inheritance Descend unto the daughter.”

this i think the daughter is referencing gideon (the daughter of both God and Wake). as to what exactly her “inheritance” is... i think we’ll have to see. but the closing line:

“Go, my dread lord, to your great-grandsire’s tomb”

well, all im saying is that tombs have kinda been a bit of a big deal with these books.

side detour (im going somewhere with this so bear with me)the book of Numbers immediately followed by the book of Deuteronomy. now why is that relevant? Deuteronomy and my gal, Judith Deuteros.

The book of Deuteronomy is basically a shit ton of laws for Christians. which Judith is the exact personification of. she literally spends all of her appearances in gideon the ninth arguing for order, the following of Imperial Law, etc etc. now in the book of Dueteronomy, an interesting order is given. starting in Deuteronomy 12:29, the worship of Canaanite gods is forbidden and the order is given to destroy their altars and to execute the Canaanites living in Canaan. this parallels Judith in Canaan House killing teacher and wrecking the place. i think Muir foreshadows that Judith will play a pivotal role in AtN. in the bible, there is actually a woman named judith, who i think is the namesake of our judith. the actual Biblical Judith kills an invading commander via beheading him. originally i assumed this was meant to be Teacher, but from Judith’s defiance of BoE in AtN, im not so sure. and at the end of AtN, Marta says “she’ll give them hell” which i think really means something. but i could go on about that but i’ll stop here.

now back to your original question about wake. an interesting additional name for wake that i think carries additional implications is when ortus dubs her “the sleeper”. biblically, the relevant quote is Ephesians 5:14:

“Awake, sleeper,

And arise from the dead.”

this is just so in your face ya know? commander awake, the sleeper, rising from the dead. im sure you get where im going with that. now. with that being said i’ll talk a little about the non-biblical stuff. i was a massive Edgar Allen Poe fan growing up and so i immediately picked up on Muir's references to Annabel Lee, The Sleeper, etc in HtN. the closing lines from The Sleeper are as follows:

“Some sepulchre, remote, alone,

Against whose portals she hath thrown,

In childhood, many an idle stone—

Some tomb from out whose sounding door

She ne’er shall force an echo more,

Thrilling to think, poor child of sin!

It was the dead who groaned within.”

now. that is the second quote about wake that references a tomb and now we have the mention of a sepulchre. THAT has some motherfucking implications. especially because in the poem “Annabel Lee” she's famously said of having a “sepulchre by the sea”. John refers to Alecto as Annabel Lee and harrow describes the tomb on the ninth as follows

“Beyond the doors there’s just the rock,” she said. “The rock and the tomb surrounded by water...The water’s salt, and it’s deep, and it moves with a tide that shouldn’t exist. The sepulchre itself is small, and the tomb...”

again. IMPLICATIONS. i know there’s also the argument that this is all a decoy and Anastasia is the body on the first etc etc. i still don’t know what to think. these are just all pieces of a puzzle ive been holding onto and think are neat so im sharing them with you. i know this is just a hot mess of everything but that’s how i operate sorry. feel free to ask more questions and i would LOVE to answer anything for you :)

#asks #the locked tomb

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iampikachuhearmeroar · 3 years

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yknow while this hellsite continues on the whole religion discussion thing, i’d like to jump in on it with my experience particularly with leaving catholic school.

like aside from my angsty pop-punk/emo etc teen phase (which’ll obvs be weaved into story later on) that led me to have different views from the church and aside from the whole sexism thing that i endured over my year 10 formal/junior prom in 2010 and 2011 from staff there….. i found it within myself incredibly hard to leave there… mostly because i’d known literally 1/3 of my year group at catholic school since kindy/kindergarten or some other point in primary school.

this affected my choice to leave and it was quite tumultuous inwardly. knowing the safety and predictably of the people i was with for all those years was a comfort to me. i knew their parents due to parent mixer bbqs that we’d have after mother’s day and father’s day liturgies- although i hated the mother’s day ones mostly, due to personal reasons. but to leave that comfortable place for overly loyal, kinda sorta shy (although everyone who knew me at that school wouldn’t’ve described me as shy bc i was a very loud show off because of drama class 😅) and by year 10, very lonely, highly socially anxious and depressed, teen me was terrifying. it meant losing her friends and stability and she obvs hated that thought. it meant leaving the one one place she ever felt good at something, drama class.

obviously, after she did leave for public school, she visited the catholic school on a few separate occasions, to try and keep the connection “alive” or whatever the fuck she wrote in a fake deep status on her fb (that i now get in my fb memories every year lmao). but it all ended pretty badly, when everyone from that school stopped talking to her once high school finished. no one invited her out. or if people did try to invite her out, like a couple of people did, it always fell through…. and it made her feel like she was just a bad luck charm or whatever other low self esteem talk she was telling herself. there was quite a few moody statuses around that too lmao.

but yeah. leaving catholic school was a massive thing for me back then, because even though i hadn’t gone to church on sunday for literal Y E A R S at that point; i still had a strong pull to that school because i’d known SO MANY kids at that school from primary/elementary/grade etc school, regardless of their year group level. because if there’s one thing catholic school was good at, it was networking 😂. you knew everyone, and everyone knew you. it was safe, it was sound, so i didn’t want to leave.

but once you leave, you lose your friends and what almost felt like an extended family (although they obvs weren’t). but at the same time, i’d grown to hate the safety and almost insularity of the school, because as i mentioned earlier, you felt like you could predict how people would react or behave in class/events etc.

i felt the above distinctly, because as i’ve mentioned plenty on here, from years 7-10 i was a very emotionally demonstrative kid. in some classes (mostly religion and PE when i was bothered to participate) i’d end up in shouting matches with the teacher or other students…. or y’know just have a casual meltdown in the middle of class, which many people saw as “attention seeking” behaviour. i felt watched, i felt ready to snap, and to quote the ever present All Time Low i felt like the bridge lyrics from “therapy” (which was/is quite obviously somewhat partially about the price of fame and hollywood imo- but that went over teen me’s head at the time lmao):

“arrogant boy, love yourself so no one has to, they’re better off without you (better off without you). arrogant boy, cause a scene like you’re supposed to, they’ll fall asleep without you; you’re lucky if your memory remains”

like yes. i’ll admit those bridge lyrics being applied to this time is rather overdramatic, in hindsight, but hey. that was teen me for ya lmao. and don’t even get me started on applying ATL’s song “sick little games” to this at the time as well 😂😅. anyway. from all the “lms and i’ll tell you what i like about you” trend statuses that people were doing back then on fb, i’d gained the tag of “cool/chill girl”, my crush rich boy, once called me “outrageous” because of how loud i was and how willing in years 7-9 to scream out stupid song lyrics like “i want to fuck dog in the ass” by blink 182, fight song by marilyn manson and then idek probably my humps by black eyed peas at the top my lungs through the very few halls that that school had 😂😅. i was being purposely and annoyingly offensive most of the time.

but eventually, once it came to things like one of the girls in my group wanting to run for vice school captain and the other girls in my group A L W A Y S being given leadership positions (LPs)….. while i always had to apparently “repent” my behaviour by being made (in theory from my teachers) to sit alone at lunch because of my “embarrassing” and “unseemly” behaviour at the so-called “training”/ “retreat” days we had for things like being peer support leaders for the new cohort of year 7s etc etc. i felt like everyone was just waiting for me to leave…. and that they couldn’t stand my “embarrassing” presence and that i’d ruin my friends chances of being selected as co-captain or whatever other bullshit LPs they wanted to run for. but still. i felt like i couldn’t leave. just. how do you leave a bunch of people that you’ve known for so long???

and even when my teachers were nice enough to give me a chance in a leadership position once; in that dastardly bullshit internet safety workshop thing that they should’ve literally just hired a professional workshop co. to do….. but to save money they used students in my year group instead. so, instead of being marked by my teachers on this program; i was marked by the catholic education office. they had a lady come in from the ceo to judge/mark us while presenting…… and this lady went off at teen me for “not being professional, responsible and respectful” or whatever the fuck the woman told 15/16yo me…. which teen me then fired back with “i don’t have to be fucking professional and responsible!!!! IM FUCKING 15!!!!”.. so from then on i was never given an LP or any other type of “peer support” role against my friends who were littered with offers for them. mind you, i did call a whole room of 14 year olds “a bunch of cunts” or the like and then stormed out thinking that i’d made a solid point, so the CEO woman had a good reason 😂😅….. again in hindsight.

of course there was also the bitterness of teen me being angry at the english dept for not giving her a spot in the top class of english in her half of the year. but as i’ve said previously on other posts, i’ve forgiven this because i did essentially fail one shakespeare in class assessment in year 8 or year 9 😂. but i strongly felt this during my time at catholic school bc my friends believed that i should’ve been in the top english class too lmao.

but aside from those troubles and foibles, i still found it incredibly hard to leave. to leave the perceived closeness of that group of girls, who would sometimes walk me down to the office and sit with me in “purple room” while i waited for the teacher that had to act as my therapist almost lmao. even though i always told my friends to leave me be and go back to class bc i felt bad about dragging them out of class for so long.

but yeah. with all the above behaviour, the song lyrics to me at the time made sense bc teen me just felt so pressured to fit into the whole “funny, cool, outrageous girl” bs box that people had put her in…. but at the same time she wanted to escape it bc she was just *flyleaf voice* SO SICK of being laughed at instead of laughed with (atl weightless reference here kids) just because… like she DESERVED to be taken seriously for fucks sake, and not a be a “monkey do funny dance” person… she obvs felt this the most in drama class. where in the shakespeare unit, she picked a medley of romeo and juliet and taming of the shrew monologues to do for her monologue. although she nearly did lady macbeth throwing herself off the tower, to be hella edgy…. but she opted not to do that in the end. but she picked serious pieces bc she was sick and tired of being classed as the one trick pony go-to funny person.

okay. this really went off topic. but y’all get the point??? the decision of leaving catholic school was a hell of a ride for little 14-16yo me. it was confusing, terrifying and tied up in years of being overly judged and feeling like people wanted me to leave bc they were sick of me. it was tied up in years of mid-class meltdowns that had become kind of routine for me to have, and that people were just brushing me off as “attention seeking”…. but also ironically waiting for me to snap at any second for another wild shouting match or walkout; which would then make me look like i was “unruly” or “untameable/unmanageable” or whatever the fuck….. but i couldn’t take that anymore, for the final senior years. i HAD to leave it.

again it was hard to leave for loyal little teen me, despite how lonely and isolated she felt. why leave your friends when you’re comfortable??? but also: why stay in this toxic environment where people are just waiting for you to either shut the fuck up and put up with it or just blow up and absolutely lose your shit??? that’s just unhealthy asf. and the only unruly thing that’s happening here is the complete lack of mental health help or management in the aussie education system; but most especially in religious schools.

#life #about me #shut up ilona #ilona’s catholic school memories #ilona’s catholic school rants #sorry it’s another tl;dr in the feels post lmao

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dontasktheradiodemon · 3 years

Text

Ghosts and Guns (4/23/2021)

Alastor a.k.a. Leal @usedhearts and Alastor a.k.a. Astor talk about their experiences seeing ghosts when they were alive, which is a great conversation.

And then they talk about how Astor keeps getting stuck third-wheeling with Leal and Alastor a.k.a. Alexa, which is not a great conversation.

usedhearts

He'd popped around a couple places in the hotel, looking for Astor, and finally found him. Leal stepped out of the shadows into the mini makeshift greenhouse.

"You remember when we talked about ghosts? Back when you taught me about the internet? I've been thinking about that lately!" Yes, no preamble, no hello, just straight into it without announcing himself. But he DOES have two thermoses in his hands, wonder what's in there. Probably something for Astor.

"I brought soup!" Definitely something for Astor.

dontasktheradiodemon

"Oh, delicious!" He held out a hand for a thermos. Who needs a preamble? Clearly this show has been broadcasting all day and he only just tuned into the middle.

Astor himself had been in the turned-sideways ship annexed onto the hotel, where he's been keeping his garden: a grand total of two okra plants and one bell pepper plants. They really don't need a whole lot of fussing at, but he feels neglectful if he doesn't do a bit of fussing anyway.

But it certainly left him time to entertain a guest. "Yes, I vaguely recall! Why?" He opened his thermos to inspect the soup.

usedhearts

Upon inspection he'd find Creole style Yakamein soup, with extra meat. Leal summoned himself a chair, settling into it. He gave his own soup a sip before he started.

"You told me abou your experiences with spirits when you were young and it got me reexamining some of my childhood and I think I may have been seeing ghosts before I was haunted personally!"

dontasktheradiodemon

Ooh, delicious. He sipped at it like it was just a cup of coffee.

"Really!" His brows went up. He wasn't surprised to learn his alternate was more sensitive to spirits than previously thought, but he *was* surprised his alternate was figuring it out so long after the fact. "Well, do tell me about them!"

usedhearts

"I think the reason I never noticed was because I would _see_ them but with my attention span, I wouldn't think anything strange about it. I remember a few incidents clearly though-- like this one time when I was out in the bayou when I was a child, I came across a gentleman who I now know was wearing a confederate uniform. He was just staring off into space. I asked him if he was alright and he didn't respond-- so I just turned and left."

Leal shrugged, taking another sip of his soup. "The things children will overlook, huh?"

dontasktheradiodemon

“The man lost his cause and has been dredging the bayou for it ever since.” He scoffed derisively. “Now, that’s interesting, though! I only rarely ever saw them! I almost always heard them—that was usually how I could tell the living from the dead, I didn’t see them.”

usedhearts

"Yes, that's why I think I mistook them for living people! All the times I remember, before I was being haunted personally, they never spoke. I only saw them." He shrugged.

"Perhaps that's one of the key differences between us, the way we experienced hauntings."

dontasktheradiodemon

"Perhaps so!" He paused thoughtfully. "Or maybe you were also surrounded by invisible ghosts you couldn't hear and I was surrounded by silent ghosts I couldn't see? Maybe we both had twice as many ghosts as we thought we did! Hah!"

It wasn't easy to drink noodles out of a thermos, but by god he was finding a way. "Did they ever approach you? Interact with you?"

usedhearts

"Hmm..." His head tilted and he took another sip of his soup-- sluuurp there goes a noodle of his own.

"There was one time a woman approached me, and seemed to be trying to ask me something, but she had no voice. I tried to help her and I ran to get a pen and paper, but when I returned she was gone."

dontasktheradiodemon

"Only once? Huh. The rest must have realized you wouldn't be much help to them." Huff. "I wonder if she's one I ever met. Did she look like she might be a relative?"

usedhearts

"Only once that I recall so far, who knows what else my memory will dredge up!" Leal laughed, then tilted his head. "She did look vaguely like Maman, but there were a lot of women in the neighborhood that looked vaguely like Maman, so..." He shrugged.

"Now I'm wondering if I saw any during the war-- one would think that would be a hotspot for hauntings, hm?"

dontasktheradiodemon

"Oh, was it ever! I tried to talk a couple of fellows into spying on Jerry and reporting back! They said they were officially off-duty and they weren't going to fight any German ghosts for me." He laughed. It was the laugh of somebody who had taught himself through deliberate effort to find this funny.

"I had a friend named Joseph who died on the first day of shelling. He stuck it out the week with me before moving on. Now that was a dependable pal."

usedhearts

That caught him off guard, and Leal blinked. "Wait, Joey? Didn't he die on the last day of shelling?"

He was a little shocked that they'd known, possibly, the same man. But they _were_ the same person, he really shouldn't be surprised. "You know, I probably saw tons but never registered it, because anyone covered in blood and staring into a middle distance would've just looked shell shocked to me!"

dontasktheradiodemon

Astor gave him a surprised look. "Joey Landry? Never stopped talking about his fiancée what's-her-name, started with a D? No. First day. At least, in my spin on things." But if Leal knew who he was talking about, Astor doubted it had been different.

"That really was what it was like. I heard so many screams I couldn't locate, I never knew if I was hearing the dying or the dead. Sometimes I had to ask if anyone else heard that scream too, and they'd ask, 'which one?' It's the only time I ever wished I couldn't hear spirits."

usedhearts

Leal snapped his fingers, his brows shooting up as he pointed at Astor. "Yes! That's him, the very one! Joey Landry with the fiancée! Oh, always felt for that poor girl after he died....you SURE it was the first day?"

He stroked his chin as he thought. "I saw him around but he got real quiet after the first day....didn't jabber anymore. I just thought he was shell shocked at the time, not shell _dead_. But then he disappeared."

Leal took a breath and then another sip of his soup. "You know....I think you're right."

dontasktheradiodemon

Astor nodded. Yes, he was sure it was the first day. “He spent the next week grieving for himself. He made me write down a whole list of things he wanted me to do on his behalf. I think I only did three or four of them. He dictated a letter to his girl, I made sure she got that.”

usedhearts

Leal's smile tightened and he looked down, arms crossing over his chest. His thermos floated next to him, as if he never let it go.

"Well, that puts a whole new spin on things. I didn't do anything for him, I didn't even know he was dead until he disappeared at the end of the week. But now I definitely know that I saw ghosts on the front. A lot of them. Maybe I'd repressed some of it before this, but I sure do remember it now."

dontasktheradiodemon

“Well, you didn’t do anything, but on the other hand you didn’t promise him a dozen things and then break three-fourths of your promise, did you?” He laughed ruefully. “Did you repress it or did you just not understand it? Everyone saw hellish things out there, after all—if you don’t have experience with ghosts, how do you sort them out from the rest? I imagine most times they looked better than their corpses.”

usedhearts

"Exactly-- I saw so much horrible shit, how was I to sort through it to find that some of the shit was actually from cows instead of pigs?" That was a messy metaphor, but it had been a messy time.

"I think I'm only able to sort through it now, some hundred years after the fact, because so much time has passed." He took his thermos back from the air and took another drink of soup. That helped, good food always did.

"I think I fired on some German ghosts, too. I remember a couple shots that I _knew_ were dead on, but there wasn't confirmed hits...."

dontasktheradiodemon

He let out a genuine laugh. “Oh! Those fellows were having the worst time out of anyone! Imagine being one of those boys: not only are you on the frontlines, not only are you *dead,* but some stubborn doughboy is *still* shooting at you! Some days you just can’t catch a break!”

usedhearts

Astor's laugh made him laugh too, a surprised noise at first, and then a few more natural noises. "Oh, yes, that would be terrible wouldn't it? They think they're out of it and then ZOOM! There's a bullet whizzing through their ghost-head!"

dontasktheradiodemon

“Just when they start thinking, ‘Well, at least it can’t get any worse’...!”

His laughter slowly petered out. “It’s a pity you didn’t get the nice side of seeing spirits. I’m surprised Ma didn’t raise you with that.”

usedhearts

"Well, it was hardly her fault-- Catholic school does that to a boy." He snorted and shook his head.

"After a year of that, I didn't want to hear anything about _anything_ spiritual. She did teach me things, but I made it clear that I didn't want to hear about that. She, being the loving mother she was, agreed to not talk about it with me." He sighed.

"Nowadays, I wish I had let her."

dontasktheradiodemon

He nodded deeply. “That’s right, I remember you mentioned that. Funny, the big differences little changes can make. Spirits were just a fact of my life long before I started school. Even if I *had* been turned off of religion like you—well, what does religion have to do with the fact that great-grandma sang to me when I couldn’t sleep, or that my father’s kin thought my French sounded funny and old-fashioned because in between visits I practiced with a spirit? To me, the difference between a ghost and the Holy Ghost was as big as the difference between a bite of flesh and a communion wafer. But would that have been the case if I’d only seen them instead of hearing them?” He shrugged.

usedhearts

Leal nodded in turn. "See, I never had that. No one but Maman sang to me, no phantom voices talking French. I had things a child's mind wrote off as 'weird but whatever'. It just goes to show that maybe if I _had_ heard them, I might've trod a path closer to yours."

He sighed, finishing off the last of his soup. The thermos disappeared into a portal as his head cocked.

"I don't think I've shown you the rifle, have I? Not after our...tense chat. Here." He flared a bit of magic, and pushed it into the ring hidden beneath his glove, and-- poof! There it was, a lovely, alien, magic sniper rifle. He held it out to Astor. "Here, hold it, it's got a good weight."

dontasktheradiodemon

Tense chat. His smile wilted slightly. Right. He’d nearly forgotten all about that.

All the same, he accepted the rifle. “Well, now, that’s an interesting contraption, isn’t it?” He hefted it up. “This is one of those ones built to shoot people a mile away, isn’t it?”

usedhearts

Leal noticed that wilt. He made a note of it. "I haven't tried firing it THAT far but it does get good distance! The way you fire is that you charge it up with your magic and then just shoot it out! Makes reloading a hell of a lot easier."

He took a breath. "And, apparently, you _can_ make it non-lethal. I didn't know that at the time, and my magic tends to make the 'bullets' rather explosive. Hence, why I didn't want to fire it at you."

Another breath. "I'm sorry, again, for not being clearer about that. I didn't mean to muck things up, it all just happened so fast. Have you spoken to Alexa about it?"

dontasktheradiodemon

“We’ve talked.” He offered the rifle back. “Magically charged. What do you know, a gun that makes the gunman do all the hard work! Still, interesting concept for a magical focus. And I’m sure you can do some interesting tricks with the ‘bullets’ that way.”

usedhearts

That didn't offer Leal much in the way of _what_ they talked about. "Talked like our talk that happened right after, or a talk like we're talking _now_?" Might as well ask for clarification.

"Yes! I've got the 'explode on contact' thing down, I've been trying to see what else I can do with them." He took the gun back and dismissed it back to the ring.

"I also wanted to apologize if Alexa and I have made you feel...awkward, when around us."

dontasktheradiodemon

“We talked about it the day of.” And Astor didn’t intend to offer Leal much in the way of what they talked about. It wasn’t his business to share if their alternate hadn’t shared it.

His smile thinned further. “Yes, well. Unless being a pest is my goal, I don’t particularly enjoy feeling like my presence is the only thing preventing my current companions from doing whatever it is they’d rather be doing.”

usedhearts

He glanced down, his own smile thinning, his hands folding in his lap. "I know it was never _my_ intent to make you feel like that. And I doubt it was Alexa's either."

Leal took another deep breath. "I like having you around, I like being around you, you're my friend, and Alexa and I should have thought about that before....thermoregulating around you like we do. We're an odd bunch, us Alastors, but I think _that's_ probably a little odd to see, even from us." He laughed humorlessly.

dontasktheradiodemon

A long, slow blink. “‘Thermoregulating’?” Let’s just get that out of the way first.

usedhearts

Oh. Yes, there was that. He hadn't explained it yet, had he?

"I run hot, Alexa is always cold. When we....." God, he didn't want to say the word. "_Cuddle_, it evens us both out. It's nice."

dontasktheradiodemon

Another, slower blink. “And... short sleeves and long johns weren’t solutions you thought to explore first?”

usedhearts

At that, Leal rolled his eyes. "Why do you think I toss off my coat at the drop of a hat? It's not just that, it's...." He huffed a bit.

"You know that feeling, when someone touches you and your skin wants to jump ship? With Alexa, there is no _that_ feeling, at all. It's just....it's nice." And he crossed his arms again. Don't mind that blush dusting his cheeks, he's not embarrassed at all.

dontasktheradiodemon

“So, the ‘thermoregulating’ bit is a convenient excuse to cuddle without openly admitting that you want to cuddle.” He spread his hands and shrugged. “It’s actually very obvious that what you’re doing is cuddling. There’s... I’m afraid there’s really no ambiguity.”

usedhearts

"It's more an excuse for cuddling and the reason we started cuddling in the first place. But that's what we're calling it, our Thing, thermoregulating."

He took a breath. "We've both agreed to stop doing it around others, though. It was--" He gave a brief nod toward Astor. "Making things awkward and neither of us want that. So next time all of us are in a room together, me and he will be on our best behavior, I swear." He held up his hand, the other over his heart.

dontasktheradiodemon

Their *Thing.* Astor nodded. “Well, I’d hate to impose on your Thing! Particularly if this means that you’ll be spending dinner parties wishing you were somewhere else where you felt free to cuddle?”

usedhearts

"No, it's not--" Leal took a breath again. "You're not imposing on us, Alastor. Both of us _like_ spending time with you. We just....got preoccupied. It's our fault, not yours."

dontasktheradiodemon

A nod. “All right.” Like he doesn’t quite buy it. “Whatever you two feel is appropriate.”

usedhearts

Leal stated at him, eyes narrowed just a tad.

"Are we...okay? Do you want to, I don't know, share your feelings, or anything?"

dontasktheradiodemon

His brows knit. “*Share* my *feelings*—? Who in the world have you been talking to?” That was some therapist shit right there. “You’re still invited to the holiday potlucks, if that’s what you’re concerned about.”

usedhearts

Oh look at that, the blush is getting worse, his smile twitching.

"Good, good. I'm going to still send you fresh seafood and bug you, too, you know. We're still _friends_."

dontasktheradiodemon

Astor studied his alternate’s face critically. What *was* all this?

He’d always taken it as an unspoken given amongst alternates that getting cagey meant *back off.* They were entertainers, not journalists. If an interviewee balks at a question, a good talk show host redirects the conversation to something more free-flowing that the audience can enjoy; he doesn’t prod deeper and drag out more tight-lipped answers while the audience loses interest. A half-assed answer *is* an answer: it says *change course.*

And any alternate of Alastor’s ought to know that. So why was Leal pushing about Astor’s *feelings*?

Neutrally, he asked, “Would you like to share *yours*?”

usedhearts

Leal's brow furrowed-- he hadn't been expecting that. Share _his_ feelings? There was nothing in the world he wanted to do _less_. He just wanted to be sure that things were alright between him and Astor-- maybe Val was rubbing off on him.

"Not particularly, no," He said, giving a wry chuckle.

"I just...want you to be reassured that you don't have to--" He shrugged. "-- sit out or anything when I invite others into shenanigans. I'll be sure to be clearer about things in the future."

dontasktheradiodemon

He gave Leal a meaningful look—yeah, well, there you go, nobody wants to talk about their feelings.

"Duly noted." Noted and discarded. He couldn't imagine attempting that again.

usedhearts

"Good." He took a breath and stood, his chair disappearing.

"Then I think I'll be on my way. If I remember more ghost encounters I'll be sure to let you know."

dontasktheradiodemon

"Do! I'd be interested to hear more about your experiences." Finally back to a safe topic—but he feared the damage was done.

"Oh! Do you want your—?" Alastor held out the thermos he'd been drinking. About a quarter of the soup was left.

usedhearts

Leal held up his hand, shaking his head. "Oh no! You keep that, it's fine."

Leal gave a little nod. "So long, Alastor! Until next time!" And he melded back into the shadows whence he came.

dontasktheradiodemon

"And to you, Alastor." He tipped his thermos to Leal.

And then he was alone. He sighed and sipped at his soup. He had the sinking feeling that could have gone better.

#chat log #usedhearts #((this conversation happened before Astor started asking people about rushed relationships yesterday))#((knowing Leal would assume Astor was talking about him & Alexa; but better than letting Leal suspect Astor was talking about himself))

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skippyv20 · 4 years

Text

What if? A Timeline Deep Dive

Hi Skippy & Friends-Pilgrim checking in. Have been watching from the sidelines and today it seemed like good idea to quell this gossip that she is going to the fancy ob/gyn hospital in Bev Hills for a second baby doll. Was there a fake bump under the apron in the side photo at the cooking a last week’s cooking extravaganza? No cradling going on. The Access interview with Father Greg Boyle founder of Homeboy Industries (1988) that supplies support to former gang members and previously incarcerated men and women, is a word salad alright with tons of extra dressing. Be forewarned to avoid indigestion if you dare to watch it but I gleaned something interesting as he babbled on and on about them. He recalled getting to know a 20 year old MM when SHE AND HER MOM attended tamales cooking classes at Homeboy with the chef a couple of times. Hmmm, I wonder if this was a place encouraged by parole officers for a newly released convict to reconnect with a daughter and make their way back into society? I suppose we could crunch the numbers. An approximate birthdate-MM claims 1981/38 until Aug 4th when she turns 39. OR, 1977, which makes her 43 turning 44 on Aug 4th. Let’s go with 1977, as she graduated from high school in 1995, making her the usual age of 18. So if Doria did 8 years inside, (the reason that MM lived with her father and was cared for by her older half sister) Doria might have been released in 1997, when MM is 20 years old. Boyle mentions her attending the all girls Catholic school where she claims her early philanthropic interests began. I tried to find the info we had come across regarding this conjecture about Doria. There is public info in the CA system I think. Very interesting that she and Doria go to THIS place to take cooking classes when MM is being raised as a little princess on TV & movie sets and taking trips to London as a teenager who is now supposedly attending tony Northwestern University hanging out with rich girlfriends. Not very classy! Also, LCC’s book excerpts are interesting but for me but a bit like milk toast. I was hoping for something to chew on. It does finally give us credence I believe. We should never be dismissed. Be careful out there…the germs don’t care who their host is…Over & out from Cape Cod.

Thank you....very interesting....I shall ponder....😊❤️❤️❤️❤️

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faranae · 4 years

Note

If you don’t mind me asking but how can the word queer be used as a positive thing to say about the LGBT community, As every time I hear it it has been used in the negative way.

First thing’s first: I’m very sorry that’s been your experience Nonny. I don’t mind you asking at all, but it’s just not an easy question to answer.

Here’s the thing: I’m not an educator. I’m just one queer dude trying to fight for the right to identify myself as I see fit without being tackled to the floor and accused of being a “cis white neurotypical homophobe” for it. (I do wish I were exaggerating, but my inbox has been hella wild this week and I can assure you I am maybe one of those things, possibly two but I am honestly just not ready to dive into the technicalities of what qualifies as cis right now.)

As for your question: I can give my own take on things, but I’m the first to admit it will be biased.

Story time! Long post incoming:

I hail from a tiny village in Ontario, Canada, where I was raised by my grandparents.

Where I grew up in the early-mid 90′s and beyond, queer was used as a slur just as much if not less frequently than gay, lesbian, dyke, butch, twink, and any number of currently acceptable(?) LGBTQ+ terminology. Consider this my point of argument, I suppose: A good portion of the stigma is absolutely based in locale/environment. In my personal history, they were all bad. Especially since baby Fara was raised in the Roman Catholic school system.

Then came the opportunity to leave: I was accepted into a specialized arts program at a high school in the city. I moved away, and nosy neighbours and an unshakeable reputation were traded in for public transportation and being lost in the crowd. It was the best thing to happen to my baby gay life.

Ninth grade was a wild awakening. I’d already known for years that I wasn’t exactly “normal”, but the sudden exposure to all of these divergent teenagers was really something. I was quickly adopted into this massive group of queer peers, and there was a lot of education in that short year as I learned about myself and others through them.

We were the group of kids that took up a good third of the cafeteria every free period, playing Magic: the Gathering and euchre and singing songs and laughing amongst each other. We were the theater kids, the artsies, the techs, and the nerds. We outnumbered the jocks and other social stereotypes by a decent margin. A quick social media check on my part shows most of those kids identify as LGBT, queer, or otherwise allies in their adult lives.

Those kids taught me that queer was a weapon for us as much as it was for “them”. Someone on the bus calls you gay? Turn on your heel and plant an innocent kiss on your best friend’s cheek. Don’t be vulgar, but absolutely fight for what you believe in. Some were… Considerably more aggressive in their acts of expression. Queer was ours. It was what we made it. What that old lady on the bus said with disgust, we held over our heads with pride.

A lot went wrong after 9th grade. My mother pulled me from the arts program and as such I was sent to a brand new school elsewhere in the city. What happened there made it very clear that experiences are not universal. Where I’d previously had a massive group of support and strength, I found myself forced back into the closet for my own safety.

Not only was “queer” a negative expression once again, it was violent.

Within a week of reluctantly admitting to a counselor at this new school that I wasn’t straight, I was very publicly pulled from PhysEd and assigned an isolated changing room for the rest of the semester. Only a few days later and my new peers suspected I was “one of the gays”, all without me saying a single thing in public about it.

Make no mistake: I was a shy, quiet kid for the most part. I tried to be brave and embrace the change as I’d learned from my peer group at the first school. I made the mistake of wearing a pride pin to school after that; my quiet little rebellion against what they’d started to say about me. I held my chin up through the glares where I could, and shot coy smiles at those who used those words against me like they were supposed to mean something unforgivable. I even called a few girls pretty out of spite. (They were actually quite pretty, but also very ugly on the inside.)

My “cocky” and “unapologetic” refusal to be insulted was met with a group of girls beating the everloving shit out of me while I waited for the bus after school that day. All because I was “queer”. I didn’t go back.

A lot’s happened since then: I dropped out of high school and got my GED as soon as I was legally able. I found my tribe again after that, and reconnected with a good chunk of the original crowd. I discovered there was a word and culture based around my take on how relationships should be (polyamorous). I got married. Had a kid. Bought a binder. Did a lot of living and made a lot of mistakes. Still am.

I hunted for literal years trying to find one word, one flag, one identity that fit me. What I wanted. Where I belonged. I was especially sore about it whenever Pride Month rolled around:

(From the end of pride month in 2018)

Most terms that seemed to fit always had some exceptions or exclusions that turned me off or disqualified me from using them by saying I straight-up wasn’t welcome. It was only in the past couple years that I finally said “fuck it” and settled on “Queer”, an identity I’d had since ninth grade but always wrote off as “too vague”. I hadn’t realized that it wasn’t vague, it was intentionally inclusive of anyone who wanted to use it.

And that, that’s the important distinction there I suppose. Are there those who don’t want to use queer or find it makes them uncomfortable? Absolutely, and that should be respected. We all have different experiences; different origins that paint our perspective of what is and is not acceptable. To some queer is power or comfort, it’s rebellion, it’s a fist in the air screaming that we exist and aren’t going anywhere. To others, it just digs at old wounds. To another group, they read that it was a bad word online and dug their heels in.

The problem lies in that only one side of this argument seems to be respecting those distinctions. If one does or doesn’t want the Q in LGBTQ to apply to them, that’s their choice. You don’t see gay dudes up in arms saying “There shouldn’t be an L in LGBTQ since I’m not a Lesbian and I don’t appreciate people implying I am.” Or you shouldn’t see that, anyway. And yet we see that very thing happening with the Q.

Members of our community are being pitted against each other by people who have no business instigating such fights. The same rhetoric and strategies are being used to shove queer out of the spectrum as are being used to exclude aro/ace and bi folk, and trans to a point as well.

The culture itself is being twisted. People aren’t looking into why and how queer has come back into the spotlight as a “slur”, when we’ve been peacefully using it ourselves and reclaiming it since the late 80′s. Hell, we were “queer” before we were ever “gay,” with that use of the word originating in the 1800′s (gay popped up as an alternative to homosexual in the early to mid 1900s).

In 2005, when same-sex marriage was legalized nationwide here, we threw parties and held each other and cried at how far our queer butts had come.

In 2020, I look at the next generation on social media and see them screaming that my identity is now an unforgivable and homophobic slur.

I hope you can understand where I’m a little skeptical and even bitter here.

We’re going backwards, and it hurts.

So yeah. Queer is seen differently by many people based on our experiences and exposures. Unfortunately that paints it in very different lights in different corners of the community.

I am queer. At no point will I ever apply that label to another person who doesn’t want it to be. In my experience anyone who implies that “the queers are trying to force you to be queer too” is either very ignorant, very misinformed, or malicious in their intent.

It’s no different than the “foreigners are going to take our jobs”, “gays will corrupt our children”, or “foreign religions will take away our freedoms” arguments. They are started and spread with malicious intent, and latched on to by those who don’t yet know any better. It’s why civil discussion is so, so very important.

Thank you for asking so politely, Nonny. I’m sorry that I couldn’t do much more than give some personal anecdotes, but the use of the word queer is something that isn’t entirely black and white for anyone nowadays. I can’t just pull a bunch of citations out of my butt and say “this is why it’s a good thing”, because it really is subjective you know?

Besides, this is my blog, not my old Comms class in college. Nobody’s convincing me to write a full APA-compliant essay on the subject unless they’re paying or professionally grading me on it.

#Queer #Trigger warning #long post #story time #AskFara #Anonymous #fara rants

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