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brin-guivera · 4 years

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(via Ten Favourite Characters from The Untamed)

ten favourite characters from the untamed

It’s been a while since I did one of these type of posts (outside of Top Ten Tuesday anyway) and as a small celebration for hitting my 1000th post on the blog (this very one, as a matter of fact!) I have decided to do a post based on my most recent obsession The Untamed!

I have already talked at length about this series in various posts (and did a review of the series here) but I thought it might be fun to share with you my favourite characters. This is based on the live action televised drama – not the web-novel / donghua series or other platforms where it has appeared.

I do like a lot of characters in this series (even some I’m not supposed to like – hey, they are great characters even if they are not good people!) but there are some that are my extra-special favourites.

10. lan jingyi

I love all of the juniors really, but Lan Jingyi made it into the 10th spot because he is the “most un-Lan Lan to ever Lan in the history of Lan” – thus spake the fanbase! Most of the Gusu Lan Sect and calm and peaceful, serene and tranquil. Lan Jingyi is snarky and impatient, with a short fuse and temper. However, he also has a kind heart and is extremely loyal.

I like him a lot because although he does share the Lan clan’s beliefs he goes about it in a completely different way! He is definitely an individual and we need more of those!

9. lan xichen

Lan Wangji’s elder brother and one of the Twin Jades of Lan. Lan Xichen is a gentle and kind-hearted soul who is very trusting, almost to a fault. He is also extremely protective of his younger brother and does his best to help the aloof and distant Lan Wangji make friends. Lan Xichen has a keen ear for music and is known for being able to diffuse tense situations.

Lan Xichen is the perfect older brother – caring and supportive. Although he can be a little bit naive, he is kind at heart and a genuinely good person.

8. wen qing

The best doctor the Wen Clan has, she is a strong and capable woman, slow to trust but quick to help where she can. Wen Qing is forced to serve the power-hungry Wen Ruohan who has a hold over her through her younger brother Wen Ning. She is aloof, cold, and above all extremely intelligent. Initially, she distrusts Wei Wuxian but gradually warms up to him because of his kind and helpful nature.

Wen Qing is a great character – she is capable and powerful and not necessarily warm but cares about others in her own way. Once you have her loyalty you never lose it.

7. wen ning

The shy, gentle, and timid younger brother of Wen Qing, who suffers from a strange illness due to being exposed to the Ying Iron as a young child. He is fiercely loyal especially to Wei Wuxian who was one of the few people to show him any kindness outside of his sister. When the Wen clan falls from power, he is turned into The Ghost General, and becomes Wei Wuxian’s right hand man (as his powers of demonic cultivation are able to control Wen Ning’s powers when they emerge).

Wen Ning is a total sweetheart – he has this horrible reputation yet is the purest soul to ever live. I just love him to bits!

6. lan sizhui

A disciple of Lan sect who is raised by Lan Wangji when his family is taken from him. He is a calm and gentle person who is very mature for his young age and is able to wield his abilities carefully and with great skill. Lan Sizhui’s past is a mystery to him but he feels an undeniable connection to Wei Wuxian and Wen Ning when the former is returned to life.

Lan Sizhui is a total dear – he really is the bestest boy! Genuinely warm-hearted and giving, he also is very capable and has everything it takes to be a powerful cultivator.

5. jiang cheng

Opinionated and hot-headed, Jiang Cheng has been raised with his siblings Jiang Yanli and Wei Wuxian (who was adopted into the Jiang clan after the death of his parents). Jiang Cheng cares very deeply for his loved ones but he is not great at showing it. He has a bad temper and often lashes out at those he cares about (who ultimately recognise that this is just how he shows affection). He dotes upon his nephew Jin Ling even though he often appears strict and sharp-tongued with him.

Jiang Cheng is probably the most misunderstood character. The breakdown of his relationship with Wei Wuxian, and his inability to see how his own actions (or inactions) also led to the tragic events that he hates his brother for, sours his character for a lot of people. Personally, I like him, warts and all, though I do get why many of his critics dislike him. He isn’t an easy character to like but I do like him all the same. 😉

4. nie huaisang

Nie Huisang is initially a contemporary of Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng in their school days at the Gusu Lan clan’s annual seminar. Seen as weak and unskilled, he is well-known for his supposed incompetence. Nicknamed the ‘head shaker’ and referred to as ‘know nothing’, he doesn’t have the best reputation. After the death of his brother Nie Mingjue, he becomes the leader of the Nie Sect.

Nie Huisang is a very intriguing character. Although depicted as being incapable (he carries a fan instead of a sword) there is more to him than meets the eye. Showing rare moments of cleverness and keen intuition, he nonetheless crumbles (and usually faints!) when things get tough. But is it all an act? It is hinted that there is more to him than there first appears – this is then further confirmed in the spin-off Fatal Journey. I really like him as a character, even just the hints you get in the main series. He is definitely one of my very favourites.

3. jiang yanli

Jiang Cheng’s elder sister (by blood) and Wei Wuxian’s adoptive elder sister, Jiang Yanli is a kind and caring person who does everything she can to protect her two brothers. She is the emotional heart of the trio and cares for them deeply, often providing support and cooking for them their favourite meals when they need cheering up. She has strong feelings for her arranged match Jin Zixuan and is devastated when he repeatedly snubs her. Eventually, he comes to care for her and they marry and have a child Jin Ling. Losing Yanli is what tears apart Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng, she really appears to be the glue holding the triad together.

Yanli is such an amazing character and did not deserve her fate whatsoever. Her story is tragic and could have been preventable. Alas, it was not meant to be…

2. wei wuxian

Wei Wuxian is the main protagonist of the story. He is a disciple of the Jiang sect and has been raised as a sibling to Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli. He is irrepressibly cheerful and mischievous as a youth, yet also very clever and deeply loyal. He cares deeply for his siblings and comes to view Lan Wangji as his soulmate and life-long confidante.

Due to the Wen clan’s machinations, he ends up pursuing demonic cultivation – a fact that puts him at odds with all of the other clans. He is also the only one to show the remnants of the Wen clan any kindness after their fall from grace and this too puts him in opposition of the other clans, including his own family. When he is defeated, he is mourned by no one; except Lan Wangji who feels remorse for not standing by his soulmate.

Wei Wuxian (or Wei Ying but it feels to personal to call him by his given name – only Lan Zhan can call him that!) is a character that is easy to root for. The television show smooths out some of his more problematic actions so he really is a victim and did not deserve to be vilified the way he was. His return after sixteen years reunites him with his Lan Zhan, who is no longer afraid to stick by him, no matter the consequence. Wei Wuxian is such a relatable main character – you cannot help but feel for him and want him to get his due, finally.

1. lan wangji

Lan Wangji (birth name Lan Zhan) is the second young master of the Lan sect. He is viewed as cold, strict, and distant. Considered difficult to get along with, a real ‘fuddy-duddy’ according to young Wei Wuxian. However, his aloof front hides a good heart and an ever-prevailing sense of justice. Due to his actions in taking down the Wen clan, he is granted the title of Hanguang Jun (roughly translated to Light Bearing Lord). His abilities cannot be faulted and he is considered a cultivator without equal.

Although they could not be more different, he becomes close with Wei Wuxian and recognises him as his soulmate. However, he is torn by his regard for the demonic cultivator and the rules of his peers. Unable to help him, he is devastated when Wei Wuxian is killed and carries that guilt for sixteen years. When they are reunited, it is clear that Lan Wangji will stand by Wei Wuxian, not matter the cost.

Lan Wangji, oh Lan Wangji, how I love you so… I did not foresee him becoming my favourite character when I started watching the series (the live action was actually my first introduction to this world). I was prepared to be a Wei Wuxian fangirl through and through (I kind of am though Lan Wangji is still my number one). There is just something about Lan Wangji though. He isn’t an easy character to get to know. He is very aloof and closed-off. However, when you peel that back you see the layers of sadness and how solitude has really cut him off from everyone else. This is like catnip to me as I love the tortured characters. Wei Wuxian, for all the external crap he goes through, is still underneath a positive and upbeat person (no matter how many times it gets beaten out of him). Lan Wangji… there is just something so lonely about him. I cannot help but love him.

***************

And that there is my top ten characters from The Untamed! I didn’t include Jin Guangyao on this list (even though he is a great character – I more love to hate him than love him!) Hope you have enjoyed me rambling on about them. I love this series so much and I am probably boring everyone to pieces but I just can’t help but talk about it!

**I haven’t mentioned a few of my other favourites such as Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen but I didn’t want to spoil their story, I may do a separate post about the Yi City arc at some point…**

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myoddramblings · 4 years

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the world, coronavirus and people

Well the world’s infrastructure is crumbling around us as we wait and watch from homes in self-isolation. This is the state of the world in the midst of the coronavirus. Depending on where you are in the world, it may not be the midst of it. Yet.

There are those in places such as China, which went through a peak in February and are coming out of the worst slowly, despite numbers of imported cases still remaining there is a sense that there is a lessening of domestic transmission creating a sense of fragile hope that there is a possibility for recovery. Then you look at places such as Italy which is currently the “scary” place. The one whose daily death numbers are quoted in conversation as a reminder by and to those who are scared but fortunate enough to not yet be there. These are places that are currently taking and have taken maximum (a relative term) precautions of quarantine and lockdown and where the full enormity of the crisis have been understood only due to the extent of spread and have been forced into these measures.

Then we have those who are yet to be affected on this scale, that are seeing initial numbers of cases growing and we observe their reactions to this. There are those across Europe closing borders, the Netherlands, Germany and the USA in Northern America to prevent cases being imported. In airports testing is undertaken and in some countries all incoming passengers are put into quarantine. There are extreme measures put into place to avoid spread and contagion on the levels that has been seen elsewhere. Places that have managed to contain it thus far but balance on this precipice of fragile stability until cases can no longer be contained. The “yet” is what is terrifying for these countries, witnessing the effect on other economies and being aware of what will come.

There are two wide categories of reaction to the virus which can be seen: those who want to continue as much as possible as normal (whether they are at-risk or not) and those who are changing their lifestyle around the virus (whether by choice or not). There is much criticism from those in the latter to those in the former, but the reality is that for all of us there will come a point where we all are part of the latter. The main reproach towards those continuing with their daily lives is the disregard that they have for those at risk and the impact that they have by potentially spreading the virus further, selfishly so. I disagree with this label. It implies malicious thought, but it is not malice that drives this. It is fear. All of us are aware of what is coming, whether it has happened, is happening or is yet to happen. We all know life has to change, the only difference is that some of us want to hold onto that sense of normality for a little longer. For the younger generations in particular, this may be the first time that the news around us directly affects us. The financial crisis was something that happened, but to me (not applicable to everyone) it was something I heard on the radio, that went on in the background whilst life went on. 2020 has been a year of horrifying news stories, the Australian bushfires, the rising political tensions between China and the US, but again whilst terrifying to hear about, they were other, things that were background noise to our ordinary lives. This is something else, something we cannot avoid or ignore. Those deemed selfish are aware of how life will change for them. They are just attempting to hold onto normality up until they have to accept reality.

Everywhere we have seen the money pouring in to support the crumbling economy to avoid a total collapse, with figures already quoting numbers worse than the 2008 financial crisis. The thing is, in this case it is not man-made, the panic of the financial crisis was (not purely) financial, the effects were on people’s livelihoods whereas now it is on people’s lives.

The current situation can be likened to any number of horror movies where the world erupts into panic but the reality is so much more gradual in the little changes in people’s actions. We see it in our shops where people’s stockpiling in preparation for shortage has only made it a more imminent reality and breeds further panic. We see it in the masks that have become commonplace and the hand sanitisers that are now out up everywhere to give a sense of control, that if we just wash our hands it will all be fine and it’ll just go away soon enough. The real fear comes from the reality that no one knows when this will truly be over. We hold arbitrary figures in our minds, fourteen days in self-isolation, six months until university opens again, hoping that normality will return soon enough for us all to return to everyday routine at some specific date. Aristotle’s words seem especially appropriate at this point in time as all we know is that we know nothing. From world leaders to the scientist working on a vaccine, no one truly knows anything about what will happen to the world.

The truth of the world is that it runs on people. People and their expectations and reactions and actions are what drives everything. The financial system, at its core, simply works on predicting expectations, of how people will react to key events and preparing for this. So how do we prepare for mass panic? The collapse of Northern Rock is often quoted as the beginning of the financial crisis in the UK which was due to a bank run, the cause of which is panic. Nowadays preventative measures are taken so that the financial system does not reach that point again but the reality is that fragility remains. The economy runs on people and how they behave.

But now it is not the economy that is failing (not that that isn’t also happening) it is the people. The pandemic brings fear for our lives and our loved ones that we cannot ignore. Every realisation of another person close to me in danger makes the situation more and more grave but also brings me to the realisation that we are all helpless. Our literal only option as people to stop the spread of the virus is self-isolation and social distancing. At the time where you want and need people around you is when we must stay apart for the sake of those same people. Isolation becomes separation as friends head home across closing borders with promises to keep in touch but with the knowledge that for some we don’t know when we will see each other again. There is no certainty when every day there a new announcement and last-minute flights are booked at extortionate prices to avoid being stuck for God knows how long away from home. A farewell is a privilege at this point. There are so many goodbyes that will have to do for however long it may be as we head into isolation. Can we really blame those “selfish” people for trying to stay normal for as long as possible in a world that is becoming more and more abnormal by the moment. That is not to say that they are justified in acting as they do but the condemnation towards them should not be so harsh without some understanding of why they are doing so.

Heading home myself for a presumable six months, there was a sense of normality I expected. Not even that, just an awareness of what it would hold for me, regardless of how the virus spreads I knew I could expect a solid period of inactivity on my behalf. In complete honesty, isolation at home for me holds very little difference to how I would spend my time regardless of the virus. What I did not think about, though I was aware of it, was the impact of the virus on my parents. As healthcare workers there is a certain tension there and likely in the whole system that further drives the fragility of the world, and the UK in particular, home. We as people consider the strain on them and the risk they put themselves at as individuals but they must consider the wider impacts. One (unexpected) positive patient does not just mean that those in contact are now at risk but also that they are out of commission, leaving even fewer behind in an industry that needs more. here are appeals for retired workers to come back to support the NHS but even at the current levels of infections in the UK there are cracks in the system. The lack of funding which was public knowledge to all before the crisis will slowly be the demise of the system as pressure increases on these workers who are personally taking precautions that the system cannot afford to provide them with. Doctors and nurses are having to pay out of pocket for proper protective equipment that is not provided. I cannot claim to be any type of authority of the working and reasoning of why the operations are running as such but I can only assume the funding is being held for the peak of infection but the reality is that peak is only being drawn closer and more extensive with the rate of infection likely not only being higher but also unknown amongst healthcare workers than suspected due to the way the situation is being handled as well as the fucking mess that the whole thing is. The world runs on people and as those who are most key at this point in time (and always) are being recognised, they are also most in danger themselves and unlike the rest of us, their isolation affects not themselves but those who need the most care. The strain on the healthcare system will only increase in the coming months before we come out the other side, whenever that may be.

These key workers are being recognised but also others who are often disregarded in society; the shop workers, delivery drivers and so many others who make up the fabric of society but are not viewed in the same way as the healthcare workers. The recognition of the work that these people do is coming out with the slow realisation that the economy runs on these “invisible workers” who cannot work from home, as so many of us are now doing, and still have our lives continue in the way that they are.

People. It has already been mentioned here but people are what everything depends on. And that is one of the few good things that have come out of this. People are coming together, going where they are needed, set technicians from offering up their skills to build hospitals, companies reassigning production to those things most in demand, initiatives for students to assist the elderly and vulnerable in the community who cannot survive self-isolation by themselves. People are coming together for the important things. So many are in self-isolation, and even though physically apart there is the knowledge that we are all together in this situation, doing our best, whatever that may be.

The world runs on people. Remember that.

21/03/20

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leonawriter · 5 years

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A Halo of Flames

Read it on AO3, part of “The Other Side of Sacrifice”

Fandom: Final Fantasy VII

Characters: Vincent, Genesis

Notes: Part of the Sombre Morrow ‘verse. This side-chapter goes with chapter seven of the main story.

Summary: Vincent had been sure that the mission should have been simple. But then, there’d been fire.

...

"In essence, the mission is a simple one. We enter the reactor, we destroy what needs to be destroyed, and we leave."

That was what Genesis had said, back before they'd headed up, just that morning.

"There might be more people about in the daytime, but it's still less risky than night, when it becomes a beacon to everything on the horizon."

Which Vincent had just nodded at, because if this had been a mission that he had been sent on as a Turk, then he would have considered the same things. Location, risk assessment, plausibility of cover-up. Capabilities of whoever he was partnered with, or if he was alone.

It was at times like those that he found it hard to question the still rather unbelievable story that Genesis had come out with; that he was a time traveller, someone from the future, there to prevent something horrific... which involved Sephiroth, somehow.

Most of the time, however, it was still hard to reconcile the idea with the vaguely immature, often rude, individual who had kicked open the lid of the coffin he had sealed himself in, and who had kept reciting poetry whenever the mood took him.

In the end, however, his personal opinions on the matter didn't count for much, as whether Genesis, a boy who had been created using similar, even if not the same means, as Sephiroth - since he knew enough that he had to be taken seriously, and more than anything... he understood.

The claw of Vincent's gauntlet clicked relentlessly at the computer he was attempting to make work, forcing his way in using old codes that he was amazed still worked, that Veld hadn't changed long years ago.

Some part of him wondered if he should feel guilt over this, a breach of trust, a breach of his oaths to the Turks... and yet, Shinra had broken its ties with him the moment that Hojo had shot him in the heart.

Perhaps it was another sin to add to his growing list, but with what was possible, even just from what he knew from direct experience - the way that Lucrecia had fallen ill - Jenova was dangerous.

The sound of metal against solid glass could still be heard from further in, and Vincent paused, wondering about the raised voice, an anger in it that he had seen glimpses of before but never to this degree, but ultimately decided not to move to see if anything was wrong, just yet.

It was just the two of them, after all, and Genesis could take care of himself.

Perhaps this would even be good, he thought-

And yet, the shouting did not abate, and Vincent briefly closed his eyes at the memory of what the very man in that room, with that... virus... had said that Jenova was capable of.

One more press of a button, and his job was done. For as much as he could do, with the new and updated systems that he could only barely recognise from around twenty years ago, of course, but it was still something.

Something metallic groaned further in, and his eyes narrowed, feet taking him into the inner chamber regardless of what the original plan had been.

Arrived in time to see glass shattering-

"-You took my FUTURE from me, DAMN YOU."

-and before he could open his mouth to speak, there was fire.

Materia had existed for as long as anyone could remember. They were the natural resources and memories of the Planet itself, after all. Vincent had used them before himself, even if not often, and he'd seen Fire used.

This... was like nothing he had ever seen before.

Genesis, still attacking the motionless form of Jenova, alternating between sword strikes and miniature explosions of fire, stood surrounded by the still-sparking wires that had once held the being that had been the crux of Hojo and Lucrecia's research in place, glass still falling in a glittering rain around him.

Vincent's hearing could just about pick up the words of what had to be LOVELESS, recited with far more personal rage than he had previously thought possible.

Flames licked at all corners of the room, with the white heat centred around the man in the red coat, creating an ungodly halo. As if there were something positively inhuman about him, his anger-

(Something inside of him flickered briefly into awareness, unsettling him enough that it was all he could do to watch as yet more burned, yet more fell apart around them, as he stood frozen and afraid of what this other being inside of him could possibly want, could possibly do, if it was given control.

Genesis had said more than once that he knew exactly what Vincent was capable of, but no matter how often, for Vincent, that was all in the future, and none of it had happened, and he didn't know, how could he know, if any of these beings would do more harm than good.)

A bit of falling debris fell close enough to make him duck aside, a sharp breath enough to make him realise just how much smoke there was, and Genesis was still attacking the thing, even when the glass itself was melting.

Voice already hoarse from twenty years asleep, and now worse with smoke inhalation of his own, Vincent called out Genesis' name, knowing that he had to make this stop somehow, even if he hadn't been able to stop anything that had happened all those years ago, Genesis was here, and he had said that there was a point in trying.

The man. He realised, now, as he called out again, as Genesis' sword twitching, now, as he backed away somewhat from the remnants of the tank Jenova had been kept in, limbs seeming even from this distance to be weighted and heavy, turning around with none of the finesse that Vincent had started to become used to seeing, glowing eyes that seemed to simply stare without seeing, flickering a blue contrast with the red of the flames, while everything else was in darkness.

Genesis stumbled, once, then again, a cough wracking his body, and fell - and would have fallen further, harder, if Vincent hadn't caught him to make sure that he wouldn't wind up a red mess in the heart of the reactor, with all of his dreams come to nothing.

It was all Vincent could do to drag them both fully out of the reactor, pulling out the most powerful potion he could find, opening it up, and forcing it into the man's throat.

Certainly, it seemed as though there was nothing he could do, which did not create more sins by his own inaction; he should have moved faster, done something sooner... questioned the plan.

Always, it seemed, the same things, and as always, he was the one who came away relatively uninjured, safe and unhurt compared to those who suffered more.

Little of the colour returned to Genesis' face, despite the strength of the potion. He still felt worryingly still.

I should have moved sooner, crossed Vincent's mind again.

He brought out another potion, this time using some on himself, knowing that he would have to carry the SOLDIER, and his sword to boot, back down the mountain somehow without being seen.

And yet... despite all of his concern for the man he was carrying, one thought made him stop in his tracks, the realisation something that hadn't truly felt real up until it hit him with all of the gravity of its weight.

I wonder, that thought said, if with Jenova gone... that means that Lucrecia can... even if she's gone, perhaps... her son can still have a chance.

Her boy. Lucrecia's son.

The same boy that Genesis had spoken of in passing, with both admiration and fear in equal measure. Who he had known, did know.

If... there is one thing... that I hope might lighten my sins, it is that maybe... I could know that anything we've done today might have saved him, in some way.

Genesis' breathing wheezed, rattling in his chest, and Vincent found himself hoping that his one wish in the world didn't come at too great a cost.

#ff7 #ffvii #ff7 stuff #genesis rhapsodos #vincent valentine #to change a sombre morrow verse #Leona fic

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reece-c-parker-blog · 5 years

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Gay Culture; A Blight Upon Itself

How this ethical quagmire has metastasised across the lives of our lost boys struggling to find their place as men.

Originally posted on Medium

I hate being gay. Statistically speaking there would have to be a few of us. The numbers, I’m sure you’ve noticed, are kept conspicuously quiet. No, there isn’t a vast conspiracy. It simply doesn’t fit narrative.

My pubescent years fell as the millennium turned, amidst the rise of the gay normalisation movement. This time saw the rise of Will & Grace, Queer As Folk, and Queer Eye For The Straight Guy. It was a great time to feel included. Just not for me. These programs were an entry-level concept of what it means to be gay for the metropolitan audiences of the east and west coasts of the United States. The AIDS crisis had drawn the eyes of mainstream western audiences to the existence of the gay community. There was no better time to finally address what could no longer be ignored.

I had tried to engage, during these years, with the material that was expected of me. They were telling my stories, after all. Painting the canvas of life with the experiences I should experience, and feelings I should feel. Expect they didn’t. They proselytized with tired stereotypes and the bigotry of low expectation. I soon found homosexuality a talking point in my social circles — as nothing more than a kitsch cliché pulled in for reference, then reshelved until needed. Gay men weren’t making the punchlines. They were the punchline.

This was a moment of the first of many disconnects. Where I, through failures of character and assimilation, couldn’t bond with my peers. As the industry grew, and the prevalence of gay characters onscreen continued to impress focus groups, so grew my dejection. But as the list gorged itself with new examples of progressivism, and the insertions became further tokenistic, the rise of groupthink assured this lens had become a prerequisite entry point to what it meant to be gay. Suddenly, so vanished the hardships of the few — gay culture was at the mercy of almighty corporate.

Now here we are; Expected to worship towards the cultural meccas of preselected gay figures championed not for their contributions to the realms of medicine, literature, or technology, but instead to their servile attitudes in representing the hedonism that bore their fame. Gay conversation has fast adopted an adaptation of Godwin’s Law, where as a conversation increases in duration, the probability one of the conversationalists mentioning RuPaul’s Drag Race approaches 1. Though, it’s more than this. It’s the exclusivity of language attached to those cultural expectations. While language has long been in flux, flitting to the verbal needs of its speakers, allowing our language to be shaped by corporate interests masquerading as representatives borders on Orwellian. Shade, Read, Sickening, Tea, Fish, Clock, and a series of disjointed ramblings have become the core exchanges of the gay communiqué. The expectation of this adherence, a cruel hand to play for young men seeking freedom from the limitations clasped to them during their formative years. To escape the shackles of their prison, to fall into the loving embrace of a new turnkey. Oh, but this time it’s different. This isn’t some hallway bully. This one wants you. But only if you be what it wants you to be. Only if you buy its products. Only if you wear its styles. Only if you speak with its voice. And only if you, in the innocence of your youth, surrender in your entirety.

Even an article like this risks defilement through the accusation of homophobia; for calling out the failures of a community through its inactivity of service and protection of all its members. For the suggestion we have a culture of ceaseless pandering to those most visible and easily pigeonholed would net me a gay excommunication. It simply cannot be said. It’s an inconvenience too burdensome to address, and so instead we commit to the monotonous busywork of feigning outrage by the perceived slights issued by positions of power. As if, by the consternation of the gay masses, the notion things aren’t too bad is too hefty a price to concede. Understandably so. Without a rallying struggle against the alabaster crowned, black suited boogeymen, all that would be left for the LGBT community would be to accept responsibility for the establishment of reasonable behavioural boundaries and the regulation of its members. A price too high, indeed.

In many ways it reminds me of the Arcadian Pan, whose submission to lust-filled tawdriness is emulated to a design by metropolitan hook-up culture. A youth swept away by the propagandistic idiom of ‘It Gets Better’, without the nuanced discussion of whether or not this is even true. After all, Grindr recently ranked top on the unhappiness scale, with a 77% respondents rate of user depression post usage. No surprises why. In the constricting nativity of my youth, I had dabbled, seeking conversation, which at the time was perceived to be a remedy to my loneliness, from the most populated aggregate. Within one working day I had been labelled as a faggot, by a member of my own community — for simply failing to supply him with what he wanted. The entitlement. As if I were nothing but a monkey tasked to perform by an organ grinder. Words carefully chosen, as his organ was the recipient of my expected performance. It is in this shadowy field where the ego is unleashed, freed from the shackles of civility. Where an otherwise unremarkable citizen may scale a hierarchy sheathed from the view of their heterosexual peers. Where the 1% isn’t measured by economic prosperity, but instead by the congregation of required physical traits and social capital to be granted worth. Note, ‘granted worth’. As worth within this community is not an immutable characteristic inherent to the individual, rather a bestowed upon status via the idolatry of its membership. But remember. It gets better. As if the exchange of the verbal assaults of your schooling for this is somehow, by definition, superior. Of course, it is. This time it’s a choice. An opt in.

But is it? Every year when the Sydney Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras sweeps Sydney’s city streets, I can’t help feel it serves as a charming veneer — an underbelly surviving on the laundering scheme of ‘good intentions’. How respectful we are, in recognising the hard work and good character of our Australian Servicemen and women. And so we should be, their contributions are worthy of recognition. Though for some, and in numbers enough to escape the descriptor of a powerless minority, the parade and those in it are merely puppets. A necessary encumbrance to be endured before the night blooms, and the incubi feast. And feast they shall — while failing to recognise such a diet consisting of thin amoral gruel could provide anything other than little sustenance. This is not to say the Mardi Gras fails in its purpose. A brotherhood, and sisterhood, or similarly disenfranchised individuals finding solace amongst the mutual understandings of their peers is an integral cornerstone of any counter-cultural community. My query remains, why does the LGBT community repeatedly allow this message to be bastardised and accessorised by the overtly sexual?

And it is the same, hollow-toned degeneracy which snakes its way through all visual and auditory signposts, toxifying the channels of expression. The invention of preventative HIV measures has garnered responses from activist campaigns such as ‘You can fuck raw, PrEP works, no more HIV’. A delicately phrased example for a youth burgeoning into manhood. A wretched expectation of what is to come for both themselves, and their future. The normalisation of pharmaceutical dependence to enable sexual deviancy — have gay men fallen so low, they would prefer the assistance of big pharma to maintain their deviancy, rather than changing their behaviours? But of course, that is an opinion unheld. Unstated. Should that question be uttered, the tested formulaic response had already been embossed across social media. We get enough hatred from outside the community, we don’t need any hatred from within it. An interesting deflection. One that disarms all criticism. Even if it is legitimate.

One-night hook-up culture is leaving an alarming amount of young men feeling trapped. Yet, little in the way of option is offered for an alternative. Prudism is projected onto those non-participatory figures more inclined to other forms of connection. To the point, albeit most likely a problem on my behalf, I have felt rejected purely for my unwillingness to participate. The larger point is; no one should have to. The trading of bodies in a conceptualised marketplace as currency may serve the purposes of immediate pleasure, but the model itself has only been in operation for just over a decade. A time barely long enough to map the cognitive changes amongst habitual users. I often hear the espousal ‘It’s just a bit of fun’, when I vocalise even my least controversial concerns. A dismissal that I have oft found confusing. As if detachment and promiscuity held no hidden consequences. Though the citation of psychology holds little sway in this field, as it lacks the grounded and well secured architecture of reasonable discourse — instead, it’s an emotional beast. These members, with the impetus of their own desire, have decided it is fun. Thus, fun it is. Though I would argue, it takes a certain type of man to revel in such a state of emotional displacement, and not one I would imagine, many would go out of their way to willingly associate with.

For the first three years of my adulthood, bambi-like and with the same naive idealism consistent with those of that age, I was blessed with a boyfriend. Three years, you may have noted, came with an expiry date. When we, still growing, reshaped ourselves into markedly dissimilar people from who we were at the commencement of our relationship. Still, I have found these years to be the fondest of my life, and resultantly the greatest limitations to my understanding of the gay community. To be succinct for the first time in this passage — I loved him. And though this love found a place to rest, the memory of its impact remains too profound to sully with the pursuit of anything less.

But this anecdote has painted me with the status of a malcontent. One, whose bitterness and internalised homophobia, governs my actions and sews hatred and salt into the faultless fields of the LGBT. A community which celebrates the union of an autistic child and a boastful killer while they bond in front of a portrait two letters shorts of spelling rohypnol. A community who cannot stand accountable without proclaiming their victimhood — ensuring the aberrant social victimisation perpetrated within their community is kept out of public sight. Should you ever have believed racism were a plague long extricated from your neighbourhood, feel free to log into your gay phone app to source the mantra, ‘No spice or rice’. I’m sorry Mr. Rogers, It isn’t a beautiful day in those neighbourhoods, nor is it a beautiful day for those neighbours.

What is to be done? A start, perhaps, is a discussion free of the tedious pejoratives usually held in reserve for ‘The Other’. For too long the gay community has projected bad intent onto its naysayers. Understandable. But know this, a concession isn’t a loss. It’s a sign of maturity. So in the invocation of this request, I wonder — will the change prove too arduous, or my brethren too stubborn?

#gay #gay culture #essay #opinion #medium

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cyberneticpeoplespolis · 6 years

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Inaction and Liberalism

I write this mainly in response to Ti Lamusse’s excellent On Building a Revolutionary Organisation. Since this was shared as an internal document in Organise Aotearoa I wanted to generalise some of the critiques of organisational liberalism and add some of my own, in order to analyse the inertia that paralyses many left organisations.

Organisational Liberalism:

No doubt many of On Building a Revolutionary Organisation’s critiques of liberalism within the party come from Mao’s seminal Combat Liberalism directive of 1937. You don’t have to be a Maoist to recognise this as a vital resource for any organiser, and a good source of self reflection for anyone who worries about their ego influencing their activism. Combat Liberalism’s central message is that there are multiple forms of Liberalism. The Ideological strain is something most socialists are already intimately familiar with, and can be generalised as the ideology of individualism. Political and Organisational Liberalisms stem from this ideology, and they can paralyse any organisation in a number of ways. Mao identifies eleven types of organisational Liberalism:

Inability to criticise friends when they are wrong.

To gossip rather than make public criticism.

Playing it safe and ignoring things that don’t affect us.

Finding our own opinions more important than those of others.

Engaging in personal attacks.

Ignoring incorrect views

Forgetting we are Communist and never agitating.

Allowing the masses to be harmed, and doing nothing.

Working half-heartedly, without plans.

Considering ourselves better than others out of pride.

Being aware of our own faults and doing nothing.

To say that organisational liberalism infects the left isn’t a personal criticism of anyone. Everyone internalises liberalism to a certain degree, as liberalism is a reflection of the cultural hegemony of capitalism. It is a creeping influence of petty competition and personal interests into politics, and the only defence is mindfulness and introspection, along with robust democratic structures when that is not enough. Organisational liberalism can take the form of members taking on too many responsibilities at once. What at first appears to be selfless devotion of time and energy to organising can in truth be an inability to see our own weaknesses and limits due to pride. This kind of liberalism easily takes hold in a left where a small group of organisers have to spread their energies very thinly across multiple projects and movements. It can be the inability of activists to criticise their own parties because of the social pressures and benefits of being in such a tight-knit group. Looking to the party for our social and emotional needs goes hand in hand with this, as does the problems that come with cadreism - the idea that the party must be incredibly cohesive, small and ideologically pure.

Finally, Liberalism can take the form of “cultural problems” within an organisation. An uneasy atmosphere of unspoken party lines, ignored arguments and domination by unelected leaders. A lack of criticism and introspection allows for these problems to occur. Note that freedom to criticise is different to the “Freedom of Criticism” that Lenin spoke against - he was specifically railing against the treatment of all criticism (especially ideologically liberal criticism) as equal to radical criticism.

Fetishising Membership

Treating the desire to gain members as a form of Liberalism may seem odd when Mao’s 7th form of liberalism is “To be among the masses and fail to conduct propaganda and agitation.”

However the fetishisation of membership is much more of an issue in the modern context of a socialist movement divided along historical lines that date back a century or more. There are points that many of us will never agree on, and they are not invalid arguments simply because they are old ones. But the vast majority of these historical questions - what happened in 1863? 1905? 1929? 1968? - are extremely distant to the majority of working people today. There are deep contradictions in the socialist movement, and a lot of them will be worked through only in practice, experimentation and struggle, but to not work with other tendencies wherever practical is liberalism. Our own parties are not as important as the broader task of raising consciousness. Gaining members is not as important as raising consciousness, and ultimately basing the success of the party on membership deeply misunderstands where our appeal lies. Two people blocking a small path between police and an oppressed group raises consciousness more than a party of thousands that submits to reformism and liberal infighting. A party in its naive infancy can embolden workers in a city much more than a bigger organisation that has long since alienated themselves from workers and fellow activists, through infighting and toxicity. Ultimately having members counts for little if members aren’t utilised well, with sound theory and a culture that fights organisational as well as ideological liberalism.

Members aren’t drawn to a party through a thousand text messages and the feeling that they are a contact that the organisation desperately needs in order to perpetuate a revolving door membership of burnt-out students. Members gravitate towards parties that inspire through their actions. Organise Aotearoa appeared to have instantly gained a highly respectable number of members when it first formed, only to find that many lost interest after months of inaction.

Democracy

Any activist would do well to read Jo Freeman’s (Joreen’s) The Tyranny of Structurelessness. It’s an excellent dissection of how anti-democratic structures take hold in unstructured organisations, and how a set of seven principles is necessary to ensure equality. It pairs well with Combat Liberalism and when reading both it is easy to see how many of the problems Joreen describes originate in organisational liberalism, as the egocentric individualism of liberalism easily leads to tyranny in unstructured parties. The seven principles Joreen describes are:

Delegation: assigning authority through democratic procedures.

Responsibility: delegates need to be responsible to the other members

Distribution: authority needs to be spread evenly to prevent monopolies.

Rotation: authority can’t be permanent and should be subject to recall.

Allocation: roles should be assigned based on skills, which members develop together.

Diffusion of Information: every member should be told as much as possible.

Equal Access to Resources: every member should be able to request resources.

Since a certain degree of liberalism is unavoidable when working under a capitalist society, it’s important to have processes in place that prevent the liberal tendencies of members from subverting the organisation. Structure is essential in keeping organisational liberalism from flourishing, and anywhere that structure isn’t clearly visible and observed by members, liberalism will find a way.

Aotearoa’s leftist organisations seem to do a particularly poor job of principles four and six. Speaking from personal experience, transparency and clear structure are the main things that make left parties appealing to me. Any party that doesn’t clearly tell you who is in charge, and how their power is limited, probably has something to hide.

Internet Socialism

This is a more minor point, but a concrete reason as to why our leftist parties are so inactive. Internet activism offers a lot in the way of catharsis and aestheticised politics (more on that later), so much so that it’s easy to feel as though a lot has been accomplished without any real movement. Meetings are much more useful, democratic and deliberative spaces for discussion than the internet. Facebook’s structure in particular leads to anti-democratic structures in the form of unelected admins, facilitators and regular posters who can drown out anyone else. I’m no luddite, but until we make our own digital architecture, the structure of our groups will be defined by the enemies of our movement. Until such a time comes that we can fight against the de-neutralisation of the internet, it can only supplement rather than replace our in-person organising.

The depoliticisation of aesthetics.

This is perhaps the most esoteric of my arguments as to why we’re gripped by inactivity, and yet I see this as a recurring theme in what I’m told by people who are relatively new to left activism. We should be listening to new activists most of all as they have the most to tell us about what radicalises people in the present moment.

If there’s one thing that marxist meme pages have taught us, it’s that aesthetics, specifically aesthetics that are appropriated by politics, actually radicalise people. This makes a lot of sense in the context of Walter Benjamin’s work on the aestheticisation of politics, which he described as a fundamental precursor to fascism. Conversely, the appropriation of aesthetics by politics is a redeeming factor, a radicalising factor that marxists can utilise. Fascists obscure politics from the material plane by turning it into an art form, and we need to respond by bringing materialism into art. I keep hearing from new leftists that marxism should be fun, vibrant, and with defined aesthetic sensibilities. This is often ignored by the more serious voices in the room who take it as the naivety of newcomers, when it actually scratches at deeper truths about what brings people to politics. We are artistic beings and we need to bring politics to where people are. The art world has already degenerated into an elitist agent of gentrification, so we need to democratise and politicise art in response, allowing it to infiltrate every space in the same way that capitalist art (advertising) infiltrates every corner of our field of vision.

Just this week I watched as a new leftist, a trans marxist who recently joined the DSA in the US, created a facebook frame that said “Communist Cutie” with a little love heart, and a hammer and sickle. The frame did the rounds so quickly that a council communist on the other side of the world, with no connection to the creator, had applied it to their own profile within 48 hours. That is the power of politicised aesthetics, and it is very telling that it was a new leftist that best exhibited this. Aesthetics is how we normalise our politics, how we make the depoliticised think about us in a new way.

There is no excuse for inaction. There are so many tools available to us that the only question is where to begin, and really, anywhere would do.

"Every step of real movement is more important than a dozen programmes"

#Jo Freeman #mao tse tung #liberalism #liberal #walter benjamin #aotearoa #leftism

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marvelleous · 6 years

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we might as well lay down and die

breaking my holiday hiatus to wish @philcoulsons a very happy birthday. here’s a philinda fic about celebrating the holidays. title from happy new year by abba. you can also read on ao3 here.

Even after all they had done for the world, in the name of protection, no one would ever truly understand the magnitude to which their actions impacted the lives of all those on earth.

It was easier before, when their duties consisted of covert operations, targeting terrorist organisations like Hydra and monitoring the occasional gifted individual. S.H.I.E.L.D. was always designed to be that way, to deal with problems before they even came up, to keep secrets about things that were deemed too strange to be conceivable for the rest of society.

They were supposed to be spies, not soldiers.

Then they were forced into the shadows, given no choice but to continue to operate with limited resources and a bounty on their heads, feared and hated by the very people they were still dedicated to protecting. Mistakes were a frequent occurrence, given the choices they had to make with very little time to truly consider the repercussions of their actions, and as a result, they do unleash horrors upon the world, leaving all of mankind in a panic. Had they been more cautious, maybe Hydra would not have had a chance to latch onto them like a virus, multiplying in the darkness, completely unseen. If they had taken just a moment to clear their minds after the events on the Iliad, they could have contained, or at least minimised the terrigen outbreak before it began.

Hive, AIDA, the Framework, all could have been prevented had they done something, had they been careful, accepting a slower method of solving their problems, rather than rush in and start a chain of events that by all means, appear to be endless. But the thing is, even after the problems they have caused, the issues that have escalated due their action or inaction, they find a way to make things right.

They save the world because they are the shield.

It doesn't matter whether or not they are recognised for their accomplishments, for that has nothing to do with their dedication and loyalty. Each and every single one of them is content with this life in the shadows, knowing that at the end of the day, they have played a part in protecting those that cannot do it for themselves. They're a band of misfit heroes, completely unrecognised, but they remain together for the same reasons, even if they didn't set out with such things in mind.

Of course, things are a little different when they're all together once more, back on earth, after what feels like a lifetime of pain and agony. After a series of catastrophic occurrences piled on top of one another, like falling dominoes, until they find the finish line.

At this point, they all just need a break. Phil, well, Phil really, really wants that break. From the day that he signed up, his loyalty towards S.H.I.E.L.D. has never changed, never wavered, but it's been a rough year, and they all deserve time off.

A lot of it.

But a little vacation time is better than nothing at all.

He's the last to leave.

They have a makeshift base in another old SSR facility, but this one is by far more run down, and the little supplies that were stored there decades ago are long past their use-by date. It doesn't matter though; what they needed most was a place to hide, somewhere they could just hit pause for a minute, because as much as time has caught up with them, they haven't had a chance to catch up with anything else. They're fugitives, but that's not a new development. It's almost insane to think that after all they have sacrificed in the name of good, that they should be prosecuted for their actions.

But that's the way the world seems to work now, given that Captain America himself has been labelled a war criminal, it's no surprise the organisation that was inspired to continue his work is suffering the same fate. There are no second chances, to give up intelligence, trade secrets for their freedom, but Phil knows that none of his agents would do so. They would give their lives to the service of S.H.I.E.L.D, like he had, like Melinda had.

Her death had only been one of the several horrible events to take place within the last twelve months. He and Fitz were trapped in an alternate dimension, and then Melinda had been kidnapped, and then they all were, by a crazy android who locked them in a virtual reality, and now none of their minds are quite right. Jeffrey Mace died a hero. They'd escaped one prison for another, fought their way out and destroyed their captor, but not without paying a price.

He had a particularly hard deal to live up to, but he was prepared for that. What he wasn't prepared for was being forced into the future, with his team, to prevent an apocalyptic event that had not yet taken place in their time. Fighting to get home was hard, but being ripped away from his team once more to pay up his end of the bargain with the Ghost Rider was one of the most difficult things he had ever done. They would survive without him there, but the need to protect them had always been strong, and it was hard leaving without a goodbye.

Phil wasn't afraid this time.

He knew exactly when he would be able to return, and it was only a matter of surviving until that moment arrived. His team were not shocked by his return as he had expected, only relieved that he was back, asking surprisingly few questions about his adventures.

They were all tired, no, exhausted, from all of their ordeals. The adrenaline from their fights against evil seeped away, leaving behind weary bodies and weary souls. He had no doubt that they could save the world again in a heartbeat, that they would do so if required of them, but it seemed that the universe was finally giving them some reprieve.

The tranquillity is almost unsettling, like the calm before a storm. Like something big is coming, something that might tear the earth apart, much like they had seen in a future that no longer existed. But they have some semblance of peace now, and Phil suggests that they split up, go their separate ways and enjoy their time off, that they would be called if anything came up. He knows they can't just go home, because they're wanted criminals, that Daisy has no one but them to turn to, but sometimes a little distance is good for the mind.

So he stays behind and watches them leave before he heads off himself, with no real destination in mind, feeling a little empty inside.

His apartment in Colorado is under a fake name, and it’s where he heads after visiting his childhood home in Manitowoc. It's his hope that no one will track him there, and for the first time in years, he learns how to live like a normal person. Well, relatively normal. He hides from his neighbours and always ducks his head, concealing his face with sunglasses when outside, but he cooks every meal for himself, does chores, watches the television.

It's nice for the first week.

After that, he's only reminded of how lonely he is, how little here is in his personal life because he's been so busy with S.H.I.E.L.D. all these years. He doesn't regret it, because he's seen the life he would have lead had he made another choice, and he much prefers this one, but he can't help wishing for something to happen so he can see his team again.

So he can see Melinda again.

She’s been on his mind, a lot more than usual, which is saying something, because there’s always at least a tiny part of him that thinks of her. They've known each other for so long, and aside from S.H.I.E.L.D, she was the one constant in his life. The only person he can truly count on.

He has no idea where she is, and despite his inclination to seek her out so they can finally sit down and have a proper conversation, he fears his presence may not be desired. She had lingered during her departure, staying to bid the rest of the team goodbye, offering him a tight-lipped smile before vanishing into the night, leaving an empty space by his side and an empty place within his heart.

Now, sitting alone in his unfamiliar apartment, it hits him harder than ever. His purpose in life is to serve, to protect others, and as much as he needs a break from it, both physically and mentally, he finds it much too difficult to cope in an environment so mundane. It's stupid really, because this is what they have always been fighting for; a little peace in the world, to create a place where people can roam free without fear.

He’s grown so used to chaos and disaster that he almost doesn't know how to live without it. The thing is, after he comes to such a realisation, pinpointing exactly what it is about this lifestyle that is so uncomfortable for him, it gets a little easier. It's not that he's hoping for a disaster to occur, only that he's having difficulty adjusting to a new routine after three decades of constant action and little rest.

Phil knows logically that it's normal to feel this way, and he copes. He buys a tiny plastic tree with built-in lights, and all the ingredients for a celebratory meal, because for the first time in so long, he's able to celebrate the holiday season. When he downs a beer on Christmas Eve, watching the snow falling outside his window, he makes a little toast to himself, because against all odds, they've survived.

Though no one knows it but them, they saved the world, and that’s worth something.

On the twenty-ninth of December, Daisy shows up at his door, a hesitant smile on her face and a backpack in one hand. He doesn’t ask any questions, stepping aside to let her in, and locking the door behind them. She looks happier, less burdened than when he saw her last, and that brings him more comfort than he can describe.

He prattles on aimlessly while whipping up grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch, and it isn’t until after they’ve eaten that Daisy reveals to him the purpose of her visit.

“I’ve been moving around a lot,” she tells him, and he isn’t surprised, knowing she’s never really had a place to call home. He understands that, because he feels the same way, though if the saying is true, and home is where the heart is, then his home is out there somewhere. Two thousand miles away, if he is to make an estimate.

“You’re welcome to stay here.”

He has very little to offer, but a place to stay, somewhere safe, is still something he can provide for her. She doesn’t respond for a moment, a flash of surprise crossing her face before she can conceal it; a technique she hasn’t quite mastered from her mentor.

“There’s a spare room and I provide three meals a day,” he adds, hoping it might change her mind. Having someone to talk to might make things easier, and if Daisy is here, she isn’t out there alone somewhere, in danger. She’s a fully grown adult who is more than capable of protecting herself, but he can’t help but want to keep her safe. He said once that she was the closest thing he had to a daughter, and the same feelings are motivating him now.

“I might take you up on that offer, but there’s somewhere else you have to be.”

She hands him a folded up piece of paper, as if the contents will explain all the questions he now has for her.

It’s a child’s drawing he realises, depicting two stick figures, one very clearly a woman, if the black lines coming out of her head are supposed to be hair. Their stick hands are joined, and there are wide smiles on their faces. The top of the page is decorated with colourful scribbles, short lines forming circular patterns, but he doesn't clue into what any of it means until he notices the flask-like shape drawn between the two figures.

A bottle of Haig.

“I paid a visit to certain a little bird during Christmas, and she insisted I take this.”

He nods, a little absentmindedly perhaps, wondering just how many speed limits he’ll have to break to make it to Pennsylvania in time, factoring in the one stop he’ll have to make along the way to pick up a gift he more than owes. The crayon drawing gives him hope though, that this future is a possibility, and he's on the road within an hour, leaving behind a set of keys for Daisy and the feeling of despondency that has lingered since they all parted ways.

It's New Year's Eve, and Melinda is sitting alone in her childhood bedroom, grateful for a little peace and quiet. She knows that if she had chosen to visit her father, he would have company over, friends to ring in the new year with.

Her mother likes the solitude just as much as she does, and didn't bat an eyelash when she disappeared after dinner, wanting some time to herself.

There’s a lot on her mind, a plethora of thoughts are related to her career, and whether or not returning to such a life is worth all the pain and suffering. She could leave it all behind, settle into an ordinary life and not live with the constant and imminent threat of death. Her father was right though, that she would never stop looking over her shoulder for danger, that she had lived that way too long to lose those habits.

The conflict isn't only within her mind, but also her heart. She’s grown rather fond of her team throughout their adventures together, developed relationships with them that she isn't ready to just let go of. There’s also the matter of one man in particular, one man who she hasn't stopped thinking of since the moment she saw him last.

She misses Phil more than ever.

Even the mess their lives have been throughout the past yet, she could always rely on him to be there for her. She doesn't blame him for her kidnapping, or not realising she had been replaced for a robot replica. It wasn't his fault that she had difficulty expressing her feelings. She wishes she had stayed with him, that they were together now, as friends, or the possibility of something more.

It's confusing to her in a way things generally aren't.

Because she's okay with the way things are, doesn't mind if they remain friends for the rest of their lives. She wonders if she’s being greedy for wanting more, but she has no control over her desires. There’s a sense of longing that she’s always felt, but more intense than ever, and she’s so lost in her thoughts that she almost physically reacts when there’s a banging against her window.

She wonders if she has lost it when she sees the one person that has overtaken all her thoughts. Either she’s gone insane, or Phil Coulson has scaled her mother’s house to knock on the window of her second-floor bedroom in the middle of the night.

“We have a front door,” is the first thing she says as she helps him climb in, quickly shutting the window afterwards to keep the cold air out.

“I didn't want to disturb anyone.”

He looks so awkward, standing in the middle of her room, and she snorts, realising that even after all these years, he's still afraid of her mother. She doesn't say anything in response, simply beckoning him to sit down with her on the edge of her bed, wondering what on earth possessed him to pay her a visit like this. He takes off his heavy winter coat, carefully lowering it to the ground beside their feet. She looks at him; he's strangely silent too, and she feels all the things she wants to tell him on the tip of her tongue, secrets threatening to spill.

She can't do it though, she needs to hear what he has to say first.

“Why are you here?”

He laughs, and it's that soft, self-deprecating laughter that she hates, because he's worth so much more than he’ll ever understand.

“I missed you. I knew I would, but I didn't realise how that could make me feel. I've finally had some time to think things through, and… I still can't quite figure out where it went wrong with us. You're my best friend Melinda, and I've loved you for longer than I can even remember. It shouldn't be like this between us, we should be happier.”

He looks so tormented, and it's exactly the same feeling she has about their situation.

“I guess I know why I've held onto these words for all this time, because I was always so afraid of losing you, losing what we already had. You mean everything to me, and we've had so many close calls in the last twelve months, so many moments where I could have lost you forever. It made me realise that whether or not anything happens between us, you deserved to know the truth, about how I feel. I… I wanted, no, I needed you to know.”

He falls silent after that, and she allows herself a moment to process her thoughts, to truly consider what she wants. It's stupid really, because she’s known all along what it is that she desires, who she wants by her side in any situation.

“I missed you too,” she says instead, because she can't find the words to express how she truly feels. When she turns to face him, she sees an emptiness in his eyes that cuts through to the deepest part of her, and wonders if he’s mistaken her response as a gentle brush off.

He can't possibly be so foolish to think she doesn't love him, after everything she has done for him. All the choices that were made so she could be beside him, protecting him.

She watches carefully as he reaches into his discarded coat and pulls out and all too familiar bottle, a twin to the one they had been saving all that time.

“I know it's not the same, but I still owe you this,” he murmurs as he hands it over. She turns it in her hands, running her fingers over the label, when she feels him shift and stand, as if ready to leave.

For a moment, she considers telling him he's an idiot, but she thinks it's all too possible that he’ll take her seriously. She walks over to her desk, setting the bottle down, before moving to stand beside him. He's lingering, clearly not ready to say goodbye, and she never wants to see that heartbroken expression on his face again.

“I think that at this point, we’re way past a bottle of whiskey,” she whispers, allowing the confusing to cloud his eyes for only a moment before she pulls him down towards her, pressing a firm but chaste kiss against his lips. He looks a little shocked when she pulls away, but quickly regains his senses, a wide smile forming on his face.

“I love you.”

She thinks he says it just because he can now, and it surprises her just how much she likes hearing it, the words so genuine, bringing her more joy than she has ever felt before. He kisses her, a little more hesitant than she had been, gentle pecks against her lips until she fists her hands in his jacket and draws them closer together.

They tumble into her bed together as the clock strikes midnight, and she feels the fireworks between them as she hears the loud cracks sound in the sky, casting a multitude of colourful lights upon their bodies as they finally find what they have been searching for their entire lives.

Each other.

When Melinda goes downstairs for breakfast the next morning, leaving Phil asleep in her bed, she finds that the table has been set for three, her mother already sipping on a cup of coffee with her usual disapproving stare.

“You are lucky that I had earplugs.”

She feels an unfamiliar heat rising on her cheeks as she walks quickly back to her room, locking the door before climbing back into bed with the intention of never leaving. It might not be such a bad thing, she muses, as Phil wraps an arm around her in his sleep.

Daisy actually cheers when they return to Phil’s apartment in the New Year. She takes one look at them, sees that they're holding hands, fingers interlocked and everything, and squeals in excitement, reminiscent of the girl they had first met all those years back.

They convince her to stay, and it goes unsaid that they're a little misfit family that is better together. There's no telling how long the peace will last, and all they can do is enjoy it while they can.

She tears up when they give her a gift they had picked up on their way back, even if she is a little perplexed by it.

Why on earth would she need a pair of noise-cancelling headphones anyway?

#philinda #philinda fanfiction #aos fic #phil coulson #melinda may #otp: she means everything to me #type: fanfiction #originelle fic

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flynnmcdonnellwriting · 3 years

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The Birth of the ‘Troubled Estate’: A photo essay into Tom Hunter – ‘Holly Street Voids’

Documenting the effects of regeneration, artist Tom Hunter moved into Holly Street Estate, Hackney two years before it was demolished. Featuring four nineteen storey towers and nineteen five-storey buildings interconnected by a long ‘sinister’ corridor, Hunter photographed the last remaining residents of the community. Capturing the peaceful interiors of the resident’s homes, Hunter emphasises the individual presence of each occupants as representative of an old age of social housing that would quite literally be torn down and rebuilt. Paralleled to the neglected exterior of the tower blocks and the difficult struggle of daily life that came with it. Hunter expresses the importance of the resident’s welfare through his insistence to challenge the stereotypes around estate (Figure 1). As he states, “It was rough and violent and there was graffiti and rubbish everywhere, but then you went into people’s homes and it was a warm experience – meeting these people who had put pride and effort into their homes and bringing up their kids”.

Figure 1: Tom Hunter, Holly Street (1997)

Before being demolished, Hunter hosted an exhibition on the 19th floor, covering the whole room with his photos. Following the resident’s evictions from the estate, Hunter returned to the empty apartments capturing the anguish of departure in his series ‘Holly Street Voids’. Emphasising the fundamental disruption, Hunter symbolises the empty tower blocks as a paradigm failure in Britain’s social housing policies in photographing the slowly decaying and vacant rooms. Almost dystopian the images take on even more poignancy, given the idealistic utopian vision the tower blocks once been created under (Figure 2).

In the 1960s British architects hoped to learn from the mistakes of the 1920s and 1930s with the invention of new architectural forms that sought to recreate the social fabric of working-class communities. Taking influence from Swiss-French architect Le Corbusier they favoured a more modernist vision of 20th century living; the ‘streets in the sky’ were born. Made up of endless footbridges that connected blocks of apartments, the intention was to recapture the convivial nature of the historic streets and neighbourhoods that had once sat below. For all their good intentions, their application proved disastrous. Built on an inhumane scale, the tower blocks were high-density ill-equipped homes with poorly designed communal areas that hindered any likelihoods of residents building any sense of social capital. It’s often cited, that London suffered more damage as a result of property development and misguided councils in the 1960s, than Hitler had managed to inflict during the whole of the war.

Figure 2: Tom Hunter, Holly Street Voids (1998)

In 2017, Hunters series was exhibited at V&A’s Museum of Childhood. Entitled ‘Searching for Ghosts’, Hunter collaborates with fellow artist James Mackinnon and photographer Mike Seabourne exploring social housing in East London. Working with local residents who had lived in the area for over ninety-years they present an intergenerational project that shared stories of East London communities. Today only one tower remains at Holly Street, as Hunter explains; “They wanted to knock down all four, but the old-age pensioners were very vocal and said: ‘We want to live in the tower blocks, we like the views’. They loved the fact they could get a lift and the community feel. They thought it was much safer, which was completely the opposite of what I thought they would say.”

Built between 1966 and 1971, the estate became a key target for Tony Blair’s regeneration programme; having lived nearby in Mapledene Road while growing up. On the 2nd June 1997, a month after his landslide victory, he made his first public speech at Southwark’s Aylesbury Estate; “I have chosen this housing estate for a very simple reason. For 18 years, the poorest people in our country have been forgotten by the government. They have been left out of Government except for the purpose of blaming them. I want that to change. There will be no forgotten people in the Britain I want to build. For a generation of young men, little has come to replace the third of all manufacturing jobs that have been lost. Behind the statistics lie households where three generations have never had a job. There are estates where the biggest employer is the drugs industry, where all that is left of the high hopes of the post-war planners is derelict concreate”.

In order to rescue its most marginalised communities and seize the ‘New Britain’ it proclaimed New Labour sought to create ‘a different kind of community’ that would integrate them into a new globalised economy. In the same way Thatcher used the field of housing as a vehicle to enact her roll back of the state, Blair seized upon it to carry out his vision of the future as he embraced the new globalised economy that had shut so many previous communities out. This social exclusion through a lack of access to employment and recourses, as well as the ability to compete resulted in the convergence of the ‘problem estate’. This short-hand analysis would define Britain’s neighbourhoods as areas of unskilled individuals where economic inactivity had resulted in collective cultural behaviours ill befitting of employability.

‘Derelict concrete’ estates such as Holly Street and Aylesbury became potent examples of the growing stigmatisation towards Britain’s left behind neighbourhoods. Portrayed as a crime hotspot, to many Aylesbury Estate is most recognisable from Channel Four’s 2004 ident. Embodying every trope of urban decay from graffiti-ridden walls and littered walkways, the ident presented a threatening dystopian vision of its ‘streets in the sky’. It’s important to note however, that Aylesbury was less a ‘problem estate’ but rather an estate – like many others – that had problems. A sentiment that was shared by its residents. Being one of the poorest inner-city areas of the capital it had come to house a proportion of mostly black and ethnic minority communities; as well as being used as reception area for refugees and asylum seekers. Rejecting the media portrayals, they produced a more positive representation of the estate, highlighting the diverse social fabric of the community. As many argued, the estates problems didn’t lie within its individuals but in the years of poor upkeep and neglect; “Our lived experience of crime on the Estate does not match the myth – and this is borne out by the statistics. We need to counter these pernicious negative stereotypes. We are not going to be bullied into giving up good sound insulation, light, views and space because of exterior neglect and delays in re-housing growing families due to current housing scarcity”.

Despite refuting their community’s portrayal, the ‘troubled estate’ myth was important as it gave justification for the social engineering – the idea of mixed communities - that lay the heart of New Labour’s vision. By proposing a mixture of housing tenures, which critically included private ownership, New Labour believed that the injection of affluent middle-class owner occupiers would ‘lift’ estates benefiting them as a whole. Controversially it resulted in the demolishment of council homes that were then only partially replaced; in fewer numbers and less secure as they were completely unaffordable to those who needed them most. Aylesbury’s tenants rejected the proposed scheme fearing as much that it would lead to a middle-class takeover resulting in the reduction of space standards and diminished rights under new landlords. Understandably, they did not trust the council. In 1999 Southwark councils Director of Regeneration Fred Manson sparked fierce controversy after claiming that ‘social housing generates people on low incomes coming in and that generates poor school performances, middle-class people stay away’. For many it was easy to see it for what it was, as back-door privatisation. For the time being Aylesbury’s residents battle on.

Just a mile up the road, the Heygate Estate has been less fortunate. Demolished in 2011, residents were promised new homes as part of the regeneration. However, these were never built by the time they were ‘decanted’ from the estate in 2007 and of the previous 1,200 council homes, zero remain. Of the estate’s 1,034 households formerly renting from the council, now only 216 remain. Of the 2,535 homes that are now owned by the Lend Lease Group, only seventy-nine are social rented. Heygate Estate’s regeneration programme reflects a social issue that has hung over inner London for decades. With councils desperate to generate income while being surrounded by high priced properties, it’s hard to dispute it as nothing more than social cleansing.

It’s important to note that this isn’t a modern problem in London. In an ever-modernising 1960s Britain, the juxtaposing realities of the growing affluence and the surviving slums was ever more convoluted. For a country that was re-establishing itself as a progressive island of collectivist thinking, how could it carry on justifying such an archaic form of living. With a broad consensus towards the welfare state still felt, the politics of housing was once again brought to the forefront of daily political rhetoric. The general view held by many politicians was that in order to rid the cities of its slums they therefore had to build new housing both rapidly and on an unprecedented scale. Faced with growing waiting lists and a reduction in inner-city building sites, this led to many Londoners being rehoused in suburban estates on the capital’s peripheries. Known as the ‘London overspill’, this choice was one that was often unwillingly imposed upon them as it led to the break-up of support networks through that of the extended family.

The irony of New Labour’s ‘mixed communities’ scheme is that council estates have always been mixed communities that are home to people from all walks of life. While they disproportionately house many of London’s poorest citizens they are far from the ‘ghettoised’ caricature that is promoted by the media. There is of course a case to be made for the ‘mixed communities’ initiative. After all it was Nye Bevan himself who preached of the importance of council estates not becoming ‘colonies of low-income people’. While well intentioned, as there was undoubtedly a need to implement beneficial reforms to the decaying estates, it’s clear that New Labour pursued a neo-liberal agenda. In deciding to favour the market over the many, they essentially left council housing defenceless to rising prejudice; both against the underlining values that sustained it and the very communities that lived within them. By failing to challenge these attacks they left council housing open to the greatest threat that was yet to come.

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powerfulpositivethinking · 4 years

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Ending procrastination and putting action into your life

It does not have to be like that. You might be a laid back person, but that does not necessarily mean that you are lazy – there is a difference and I will talk more about that later. The major problem is procrastination – putting off things that really deserve immediate action.

Sadly, the biggest procrastinators rarely realise what they are actually doing and the damage they cause – and this is why they find it so hard to succeed in everything they do. At work they are “Business Prevention Officers,” in relationships they are “Mr or Ms no commitment” and in life they are “Maybes.”

There is something very descriptive about the word procrastination – I believe it says exactly what it does on the tin. Some even have difficulty pronouncing the word. Do it right now - PRO-CRASS-TIN-ASHUN - and you will see what I mean. It could well sum up why so many people will do, or try anything to put off or delay the job in hand – the things that really matter.

Procrastination can apply to any part of your life, your work, your marriage and all your other important relationships. It stems mostly from a fear of failure which in turn creates inaction – after all, if you do nothing then there is an assumption, consciously or unconsciously, that it is impossible to do wrong.

It is another link in the chain which you probably learned from a well-meaning adult or from your parents and it needs to be broken before you pass on the same level of inaction to your children. It is the lack of faith in your own abilities which gets worse when you are under pressure to deliver.

Clever procrastinators have even been known to invent a huge range of additional activities which are designed to hide their inactions, but sooner or later the inevitable will happen – the main task they have been dreading has to be completed – and they have probably run out of time.

That means you are then going to upset people who were relying on you. You have let them down and it was probably not the first time and they are now thinking that you are no longer up to the job, no longer the partner or friend they trusted – it is like a self-fulfilling prophecy which has come to pass.

Those who procrastinate frequently fail in their careers and personal relationships and the sad thing is they have no idea of the kind of people they have become. Procrastinators are not lazy or uncaring, quite the reverse, they just lack focus and commitment when they perceive or imagine that something is a little more challenging than normal.

Every warning bell in their body then unconsciously decides that this is one job too far and urgent evasive action is now required. It will occur again and again until you accept that just maybe you might be a procrastinator and look to do something about it.

But for the moment, let’s first focus on positive thinking and set about changing the basics. It starts with that fear of failure that has always held you back and prevented you from making solid work and relationship commitments. It’s also worth mentioning that some procrastinators also fear success – worried that if they do too good a job they will be asked to do more – different problem but same solution.

Check back in your life and start to ask yourself a few difficult questions – as explained earlier, few procrastinators recognise that they even have a problem to begin with so you have to be honest with yourself particularly if you are finding it difficult to hold down a job or sustain a relationship.

Were you discouraged by parents or other authority figures not to get out of your depth? Was there an occasion when it really did go wrong and you are now afraid of a repeat? Do you find it difficult to make decisions? Successful entrepreneurs recognise such challenges or failures as experience building and you must do the same. Where do you think it all went wrong, why do you find this aspect of life so difficult and most importantly, what can you do now to correct the situation?

It frequently helps if you are prepared to tackle the problem in an analytical way – not easy for a serial procrastinator, but as there is no pressure and everything to gain then please believe me when I say it is worth a few minutes of your time.

It starts by recognising that you might just be a procrastinator. C’mon, it is not so hard - this is your opportunity to be a powerful positive person and get rid of all that indecision and start your life afresh – ready to tackle anything that comes your way. When you become that person you will then begin to experience material success, your relationships will improve and a whole new way of life is yours for the taking

Find a piece of paper and a pen and write down that you are a procrastinator. You need to admit that you could be a ditherer and indecisive – you get the idea because we are going to set about correcting all those things. As you spell out the problem you must also add the solution. Write down that you now intend to be more decisive and that if you are having problems you will not be afraid to ask for help. Assert that you will not invent other tasks as a substitute for failing to complete projects.

When you are satisfied that your specification is just right then destroy that piece of paper as it will help to reinforce the ideas you have sown in your head. You have metaphorically sent a message to the Universe that you are ready for change and it only needs to receive it the once.

You are effectively writing your own personal message and you must state that that the new you is going to be a massive success - decisive, strong, a leader and someone who others will gravitate to for advice. You will be the one who tackles the bigger problems and hardest projects first. You will recognise that if you run into difficulties you will be quick to correct them before it is too late – and you will not be worried about asking for help, safe in the knowledge that it is not a reflection of failure on your part.

Use your imagination to see that you are a huge success, delivering incredible projects. See yourself as receiving praise from bosses and colleagues for a job well done. Visualise relationships improving with more and more attractive people coming into your life. Most importantly – please do not confuse procrastination for laziness.

This is of course how many people will always view procrastination – but that could not be further from the truth. None of us are the same – there are always going to be people more motivated, more dynamic and more driven than you. It does not mean that you are less committed or care less – and it certainly doesn’t mean that you are lazy.

You might be more laid back than most and you might like to take time to consider what needs to be done – that doesn’t mean that you are lazy either – so welcome the type of person you are and let’s move on, but be ready to give yourself a break because there could be other things that are holding you back right now.

Could be that you are feeling very tired at the moment. Maybe it’s been a bad week, month, year or even longer when everything has gone wrong. It’s your problems we are talking about here – anything from divorce, ill health, finances, depression – so an understandable lack of motivation is probably OK right now and we will talk more about that later because these things will pass.

The real problem is procrastination because some people will avoid action of any kind by looking for distractions. This also has nothing to do with laziness as we have already discussed – so could it be that you are simply unwilling or unable to do a particular job or you have no idea what action to take. May be you could be worrying about the potentially embarrassing consequences of a failure on your part.

Depression is also the direct route to inaction. When all you can think of is how bad you feel and how bleak the future looks then it’s not surprising that you feel demotivated. In such circumstances, the last question you need to ask is why am I so lazy?

Feelings of hopelessness and low self-esteem are massive factors for inaction. Add them to all the other reasons already stated – and if these apply to you – then you are not a lazy person, just someone who needs to think differently.

That could mean turning to mindfulness or meditation which is known to correct thoughts and can be very powerful in cases of negativity, but most people have no idea how to go about this and they do not have the time or the inclination to make it work.

There is really nothing new about Mindfulness. It has been around for thousands of years, practiced and passed down through the generations by Buddhist monks and it works by keeping people in the NOW – focussing on things at this precise moment.

The practice has been clinically proven to fight depression and anxiety – and according to some medical reports, up to 20% of individuals taking part in trials have benefitted - and there are a growing number of organisations willing to offer courses and advice.

Does it work – yes? Is it good for your mind and body – without doubt? So what are the downsides of Mindfulness? The short answer is time. You must be willing to invest part of your day – you will need, according to the experts, at least 15 minutes to meditate, some say up to one hour. This allows your thoughts to be put into perspective in a non-judgemental way - and in a modern fast moving world, most of us are sadly unwilling to make that investment.

It’s the very same reason why most people fail to get the results they need from self-help books, particularly those that involve daily exercises and affirmations and why most New Year resolutions fail by mid-January. You will be pleased to know that we do not recommend such things – because you do not need them.

That doesn’t mean to say that you cannot introduce Mindfulness into your life and daily routine and you can do it on the go, as you travel to work, during you lunch hour, as you tidy up the house, clean the car or whatever it is you are doing at that particular moment.

The secret is learning to control your thoughts and living in the now, enjoying this precise moment accepting that everything is how it should be. Let the dozens of thoughts coming into your head pass into the ether without comment or analysis – they are random and however pressing they may seem you can choose to return to them when you are ready ensuring that you dominate the agenda.

A good start is to forget about the past mistakes – there is nothing you can change as much as you might want to beat yourself up over it. Simply vow to learn from the experience however painful it was because it is now in your past and only causes you distress when you relive it. That simple process of acceptance alone will take you forward into the process of mindfulness.

As for the future – if you are practicing Powerful Positive Thinking then you will already have a strategy to take care of what comes next or you will have by the time you finish this article – so all you have to do is concentrate on what’s happening now.

Enjoy the moment and if you are sitting on a train or a passenger on a bus or simply lounging in a café, take the opportunity to look around, smell the coffee if you like, metaphorically and literally, look at the surroundings, take notice of colours and textures and as you do, thoughts will stream into your head and you will have an opinion about what your senses are telling you.

To achieve mindfulness you must control these opinions. It doesn’t matter whether you hate the colour of someone’s curtains or whatever else you are looking at. It doesn’t matter what you think about anything really at that particular moment – stop being judgemental, acknowledge the thoughts without any additional mental comment and let them drift away.

This is the lazy way to mindfulness because without realising it you will be in a mild state of meditation, it’s doing you good and you can do it any time it takes your fancy. Analyse it a bit further and you have probably allowed yourself unwittingly to relax in the same way on numerous occasions. It is just common sense – another key part of Powerful Positive Thinking.

You can do this during even the busiest of days and here comes the good bit. Because you have not locked yourself into a rigid programme of meditating at a certain time then mindfulness becomes a pleasure when you are ready to switch off and not another chore or duty you have to include as part of your 24 hour schedule.

This way you will slowly learn how to control your thoughts, you will become less judgemental, gradually you will learn to let go of the past and slowly – step by step – you will be living in the NOW – and that’s exactly where we all should be.

By living in the now you can correct your thoughts away from procrastination or laziness and focus on what needs to be done immediately. You will see the way ahead and the task in hand, you will not be afraid to ask for help if it is required.

Do not feel you have to practice all the time, just take a moment to relax, the odd few minutes here and there and slowly but surely you will become more positive, more incisive and you would have made another step forward towards personal and material success – so chill. You have vowed to be less of a procrastinator and most importantly, you have taken another step towards a more positive you.

The post Ending procrastination and putting action into your life appeared first on Powerful Positive Thinking.

from Powerful Positive Thinking https://www.powerfulpositivethinking.org/ending-procrastination-and-putting-action-into-your-life/ via https://www.powerfulpositivethinking.org

#Powerful Positive Thinking

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thisisdollydaydream · 7 years

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Third Person

Angelica’s Hope “They say I have bipolar disorder. They tell me that I am sick, that I need to be locked up in the mental hospital, and take these medications. I accept that when I'm in a low mood I am a danger to myself.”

Angelica had a misunderstanding with her boyfriend. He was impatient and failed to see her side of the argument. She suggested they go along to the psychiatrist in the hope that the she will relay to him what Angelica is failing to articulate to her boyfriend. Believing she was a danger to herself and others, Angelica's psychiatrist tried to have her committed to a state psychiatric hospital following what she believed to be “bizarre” comments and behavior.

“I don’t think like them. My boyfriend is way too worried about money. Money is worthless. I wanted to go to college but if you are not from an affluent background they make it difficult for you to get through. All this so you can memorize information. They teach you what to think, not how to think. Those who get good grades are just robots, all they do is repeat what the teacher has taught them. But I think the government is corrupt. I do not trust them. It's all about paying taxes, deducted before you even see your paycheck. But people do it so just to own material possessions and brag and be all condescending to those who have not. It is all phony. I want to write books for children, there are so many stories in my head. I want to study astrology and astronomy, but there is nowhere here that offers such a course.“

Angelica's ability to think freely – outside the box – and her deep understanding of her own reality, recognises how people waste their lives in a monotonous existence for the sake of fitting in.

Angelica is not sick; she is misunderstood, creative, and actually quite gifted.

Other gifted individuals such as Vincent van Gogh, Ernest Hemmingway and Kurt Cobain shared the same diagnosis of bipolar disorder, and gave us some of the greatest art of their respective times. Sadly, each of the aforementioned also ended their own lives due to the depressive pole of the bipolar complex, which brought about overwhelming suicidal tendencies upon which (sadly) they acted. Angelica had attempted suicide too. The first time at the age of thirteen.

“There are no people like me. No one understands me. So what is the point in being here? People are either in denial or bound by blind faith. I want to really understand the metaphysical possibility of our existence, but people just tell me to chill out. I just need an escape from it all and sometimes it feels overwhelming.”

Angelica asked to be taken off her medications because they made her feel like a rag doll, feeling nothing at all, just going through the motions of life. But in the psychiatric world, any patient who shares an opinion such as this is simply labeled “resistant to treatment”, and their medication dosage is increased. If you have the misfortune of having been "sectioned", the only way to be successfully discharged from psychiatric institutionalisation is to follow to the letter what the staff believes is best for you, entirely without your input. You have to follow orders and play the game, simply to get discharged.

Society and psychiatry have decided what normal is, with no scientific basis or understanding of the human condition, and then they tell themselves that they are saving people by returning them to a state of mental normalcy.

Angelica suddenly experienced the onset of skipped heart beats. Thorough medical research alerted her that her psychiatric medications were contributing to her skipped beats. So she stopped these medications, hoping to see a difference. Two weeks later, elevated blood pressure sent her to the A&E Department of the General Hospital, and she chose to be honest about stopping her meds because she was frightened they were making her condition worse. Understanding her own nature better than any of the so-called experts on staff, Angelica stated that her goals were to stop taking medications, then make an appointment with her psychiatrist for a review. But the doctors at the Emergency would not allow it! They promptly brought in two psychiatrists, whom Angelica was initially reluctant to speak to, but then realised cooperation might yield better results. The psychiatrists refused to believe that the psychiatric medications may have anything to do with the skipped heart beats she was experiencing, even though she argued it had only been two weeks and needed sufficient time to elapse to know this with certainty. The psychiatrists prescribed an anti-psychotic (Risperidone) for her and she agreed to take it, knowing full well that a bipolar patient's opinion held little value to these professionals. But on reading the Risperidone literature later on, she discovered that one of the side effects was...yes, skipped heart beats. Psychiatrists are merely attempting to condition people like Angelica to ‘be’ what they need them to be, to meet the expectations of society and to please the people who are empowered by government to run her life for her. This is why no one actually heals in the mental health system. They are repeatedly force-fed beliefs about ‘normalcy’, medicating them out of their minds, and punish and restrain them for expressing their most intimate truths.

“I was depressed because I felt alone in the world. Yet I did not want to be around people at all. What's the point if no one understands me. I want to be myself, which is why I am not averse to use of drugs and alcohol – it sets me free. I have come to the conclusion that addiction is the coping method for those of us who live in an illogical world. The injustices in life make me depressed and feel that life is not worth living. I’m not even sure I would want to be normal.”

She was doped up with medications that made her sleep all day and, rendered inactive by the drugs that were forced upon her, she gained excess weight in just a few weeks. For a girl with a history of anorexia nervosa, this is just tragic. Worst of all, she no longer talked about the things that brought her joy.

As far as the psychiatrist was concerned, Angelica no longer displayed “psychotic symptoms” which, in her eyes, meant that Angelica was clinically making progress. This is simply not right. This child is intelligent and bright, and the “mental health” establishment took that away from her. But, when we scratch the surface of psychiatric institutions, the sad reality is that most psychiatric physicians are inadequately trained even to prescribe the psychotropic medications they so commonly substitute for genuine care — and deep down, they know it. This society, this civilization is utterly insane. Obviously by that term I am not meaning their mental illness myth term which is saying 'unacceptable behaviour' is biologically caused by disease/'mental illness'. No. The insanity I refer to is when thinking becomes mechanical and loses contact with feeling, soul. To make it appear that those who were awakened/awakening are just that, crazy.

“I knew instinctively there was something inherently wrong with this society - one that despises everything from rebels, non-conformists, and anyone that dare questions the status quo. There is a disturbing trend to subvert individuals into one whole mass of neurotic ambitious idiots who have no idea that life is about more than a yacht they take out on the ocean for two weeks of the year.”

Giftedness does not always equate to what our society deems “positive” experiences. In fact, up to 20% of gifted adolescents drop out of the school system, displaying such “symptoms” as talking a lot, high energy levels, and impulsive, inattentive, or distractable behaviours. Notably, these symptoms of the gifted are remarkably close to the symptoms of a person experiencing the manic pole of the bipolar disorder.

And they are the same behaviors I observed in Angelica, whose only desire was “to learn about the world, walk among the trees, cure my ills by spending time close to the sea, to read, write, and draw.”

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