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mannatea · 4 years

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Excuse me I want the opinions about the apocalyptic humans are the real monsters please!

>Are you sure you would like to board this train?

Anyway, sure! I have a lot of thoughts. And opinions. And considerations. Hopefully this train of thought is worth the trip. All aboaaaaard!

Part I: This Mentality Doesn’t Exist in Just Fiction!

I take issue with this phrasing as a general rule because humans are still human. Calling them “monsters” for their evil deeds—something everyone is capable of performing, by the way—is just...asinine to the nth degree. Sure, we’d all like to imagine we’re not capable of Great Evil, but WE ARE.

I don’t want to dive into Purity Police Politics here, but here’s a question for (general) you: where is the line drawn? What makes a “bad” person “a monster” vs. just being a bad/thoughtless/careless person?

I think we can all agree that objectively some acts are evil. If you’ve been following the news this year, you probably have a million examples, but (TRIGGER WARNING FOR THIS LINK) here’s a particularly terrible one; they even call the abusers monsters in this news article. Why? I think you know why. They want to emotionally distance themselves. They want to believe that these people are unique in their ability to cause harm and suffering to another human being.

But WOWEE!!! Spoiler alert: the writer is just as capable of abuse as the people who committed the crime!!!!

Don’t get me wrong, I think most people are UNLIKELY to commit a crime like that, or even hurt another person with malicious intent or hatred in their hearts. But to pretend we are not all capable of it is putting yourself on a pedestal above the rest of humanity, and...I dunno. That’s awfully cocky.

Tumblr in particular loves to talk about toxicity and abuse, and they love to paint themselves as “better than” or “above” that behavior, but 1) we are all capable of toxicity, have been problematic in our lifetime, and have probably done something abusive to someone else at one point or another, and 2) we must remember that this is true of everyone else as well as ourselves. The important thing is that we strive to behave better, to learn to recognize when we are hurting someone else, to CARE THAT WE MIGHT BE HURTING SOMEONE ELSE, and to actively work to just be better/kinder people.

I totally get the desire to call a cruel, abusive, or evil person “a monster” but THEY ARE NOT. They are people. People are not infallible. Monsters by definition are imaginary creatures, but the abuse these people inflict is real. The crimes are real. The hurt is real. The effect these people have on those around them is as real as they themselves are, and to pretend for even a moment that it’s not, that they are somehow separate from you and I, that the rules apply differently for them than you and I, is just...harmful?

Because again, where do you draw the line?

Part II: Using Monster as an Insult

Monsters are creations, always, as they are by definition imaginary creatures. I think some might look to the Nature vs. Nurture Debate when it comes to criminal acts to try and justify their use of the word “monster” to refer to people like the abusers in the link above (aka: “society shaped them into that, it was never their natural inclination”) but that feels vaguely like cherry-picking to me, and I don’t like it.

Also, “Monster” is used as such a joking insult online these days (you’re a monster for dissing my anime waifu headcanons) it’s lost its bite if it ever had it to begin with. My beloved cat CiCi’s nickname was ‘Monster’ because the first Christmas I had her she rolled around on the Christmas presents and hissed at anyone who tried to move them. We also have an energy drink named Monster. Cookie Monster. Created ‘monsters’ with their own lore like werewolves and vampires and kelpies and Bigfoot.

So you risk one of three things by calling someone a monster: 1) it comes across like a joking insult/cute pet name, 2) you’re putting them on par with beings that literally do not exist except in fiction, and that half of this hellsite wants to fuck MANY people actually enjoy talking/reading about as part of an entire literary genre, or 3) you’re saying they’re literally not human beings and therefore not worth being considered as such.

None of these options are good.

Part III: “Humans Were the Real Monsters All Along!™”

Maybe when literacy levels were super low and only the wealthy had the leisure time and access to literature they could read for fun, this kind of reveal was Intriguing, but I’m here to tell you that it’s never been interesting to any person who has lived in the real world, like, ever.

I feel like for children this may be different (I dunno, as a child you don’t always understand what’s going on around you/are more likely to be sheltered from these kinds of truths outside of fiction), but I highly doubt that, say, peasants in 1620 weren’t well aware that humans were capable of evil.

Sure, they did the same thing we like to do and called people who committed particularly heinous acts ‘monsters’ (probably for the same reasons we do as well as because they wanted to believe they were safe in their communities and that their neighbors were also different and not capable of doing that sort of thing) but again you see the general level of denial:

This person is not like me.

I am different.

I must call them something else.

Which, yes you are different, but the difference is NOT in WHAT you are, it’s in HOW YOU ACT and the emotions you act upon!

Society has a history of doing this separation, and of revealing in fiction that humans are actually the real monsters, but again, those of us who exist in the real world already know that human beings are capable of great evil. Even if we are surprised by the level of vileness or not is irrelevant; we all know that logically this kind of thing happens in the real world and that human beings are responsible for it.

Part IV: Bad Reveal. BAD!

In some pieces of media, the writers go out of their way to be like, “THE MONSTERS WE’VE HATED ALL THIS TIME AND HAVE BEEN FIGHTING WERE ONCE HUMAN LIKE US. WE COULD BECOME LIKE THEM! OH NO!”

Which...lol.

Let’s look at zombies, a monster created for the sake of this kind of narrative. They were “once human” but are now mindless beings completely unaware of the hurt they are inflicting, even on those they might have known in their lifetime. Zombies can infect living human beings, turning them into zombies. The humans in these stories don’t want to become zombies, so they fight the zombies (with varying results, depending on the particular piece of media you choose to consume).

Zombie stories have a huge cult following; people love this kind of thing. On the surface you might think zombie stories fit the above narrative, and they do, but like...literally. “They were human once but aren’t anymore!” is almost never a reveal in these stories; it’s something everyone already knows and is actively fighting against.

"Humans are the real monsters” rarely has much to do with the zombies. It almost always occurs when a human in the group of survivors betrays the others in a big way.

The betrayer is then painted as the REAL monster here, the REAL threat. You might notice that lot of post-apocalyptic and/or humans-vs.-monsters fiction follows the same pattern: humans fight monsters, (optional ingredient: the monsters were once human!), and then they find out that Actually, Humans Were the Real Monsters All Along!

Again, anyone reading this post already knows that. They go out in public and see people who can’t be assed to wear a mask. “Wah it itches.” “Wah I can’t breathe.” “Wah it’s inconvenient for me and I’m not infected I know I’m fine!”

These same maskless fools would tell you to your face that the betrayer in these stories is a monster. They themselves, however, are not capable of hurting other people! They’re better than that! That person is a monster! They would never betray their allies. Except they do, every day, by refusing to wear a mask to protect other people from themselves. “Just in case” isn’t a good enough reason for them because it’s an inconvenience and they don’t like how it feels.

Sure, wearing a mask during a pandemic seems like such a small thing compared to, you know, betraying your fellow survivors in the apocalypse, but you have to consider context. If wearing a mask during a pandemic that has literally killed huNDreDS oF thousands is so inconvenient they won’t even wear it for the 3 minutes they are in the gas station...would you trust this person in a post-apocalyptic setting? Would they gather food for a physically disabled survivor? Would they literally fight to protect someone ill? Share resources fairly? You know if they can’t wear a mask for three minutes in a whole damn day they wouldn’t step up like that. They could easily end up being the betrayer in a situation like that. They’ve never been desperate enough to do something like that before, and they probably don’t think they’re capable of it now, but we know what they do when something is a minor inconvenience to them. Imagine a major inconvenience. Imagine their whole life being turned upside-down!

My issues with the reveal of “Humans are actually the real monsters!” are many, but the biggest issue I take with it from a writing perspective is that it’s almost never accurate when you look at the scope of the story.

Tens of thousands of zombies vs. one (1) betrayer: and you’re telling me the betrayer is the real monster? The bigger threat??? BULLSHIT. Sure, it takes a real asshole to betray people during the literal apocalypse, but that act doesn’t take away from the fact that they are human, LET ALONE the fact that using this particular point as a Big Important Reveal tells me you’re a shit writer who thinks you’re smart.

(For the record, you might have a character who will prioritize this and consider that betrayer the bigger threat, but we’re not talking about character development/motivations so much as overarching narratives the writer includes in the story separate from that.)

Anyway, I’m not saying stories with this premise in them are shit, I’m saying that this concept as a big plot reveal/climax of a story is shit. How can this even be a reveal worth revealing? Has anyone ever turned on the news?

Part V: Drawing the Line and Other Particulars

I definitely do not have the expertise or the experience to make this a detailed point, so please forgive me for that, but let’s talk about that line again, because this point absolutely cannot be overlooked.

Where is it? What makes one person who commits a crime or evil act a monster and not another? Is it the act committed? Their mental state? What about the mentally ill? What about neurodivergent people? What about children?

As an extreme example: is a woman who throws her baby off a building a monster? NO!!! SHE’S HUMAN and she did something terrible. We might like to say we’re different and we would neVeR do that, but we don’t know because we have never been in her shoes. We are missing context even the courts will never have or fully grasp. We do not know or understand her mental state no matter what the doctors say. Calling her a monster doesn’t do anything but put her in a separate category from the rest of us, which is harmful on SO many levels, starting with the fact that it means nobody talks to her, nobody gets her side of the story, nobody listens, and so we have no perspective, no understanding, no desire to learn.

Things like this are why it took so long for PPD to even begin to be understood, and why EVEN NOW women are afraid to talk about it and all related issues. I follow a ob-gyn on YouTube and the amount of women in her comments who thank her (oftentimes VERY emotionally) for openly saying it’s normal to not immediately feel a connection to your baby when they are born is mind-blowing. Not everyone will feel that! Sometimes you have to get to know your baby because they are an individual person and that is how love works for some people! But 5 years ago, 10 years ago, 20 years ago, 100 years ago: that was unthinkable to admit. You lied about it and you felt like a terrible person instead. What kind of mom doesn’t love their baby instantly? You must be the worst. Meanwhile, the woman you’re getting your information from doesn’t feel that bond either and is lying about it because she feels pressured and just as bad as you do. All this suffering, and for what?! Stigma. Being told you’re not human if you don’t feel like that.

Don’t you know the bond with that baby suffered from this issue, too? Don’t you think it affected the parent/child relationship for the rest of their lives?

Not everyone who commits a crime falls into a category like this, and maybe the woman in my example doesn’t either, but I hope your takeaway is that calling people monsters keeps them separated from other people to the point where their story becomes just as fictional as the monsters they are called, and when it is heard it is enjoyed as fiction, rather than seriously considered.

Let’s not pretend that this separation of humanity into “human” and “not human” based on the way someone acts hasn’t hindered progress in the mental health/medical fields for everyone. When people are not considered human they are not given human treatment, rights, consideration, or empathy.

Part VI: TL;DR:

we are all human and capable of doing bad things.

the difference between a bad person and you or I is a lot more complex and multilayered than “they did a terrible thing and I did not do that terrible thing.”

calling people ‘monsters’ for the bad things they do dehumanizes them and may:

strip them of responsibility for their actions by insinuating they were born that way or they aren’t actually human like you and I, and/or

prevent them from getting the help they need/from others who have not done anything bad yet getting the help they need

it’s not a good reveal in fiction

because most of us already know people commit evil acts,

and it is oftentimes is presented in a way that doesn’t actually make sense for the story.

Sorry that it got long and probably isn’t very well organized! I wrote it in bursts at work. But anyway yeah...

I don’t mind when characters feel this way about other characters, but to see it used as a narrative feature/reveal/et cetera in fiction is like, so tiresome. No shit, Sherlock. I turn on the news. I followed true crime for a while. WE ALL KNOW PEOPLE ARE CAPABLE OF DOING TERRIBLE, AWFUL THINGS TO OTHER LIVING THINGS.

Having *that* be your big reveal in a story is so childish it embarrasses me to see it. Wow, congrats on figuring out something at 47 that the rest of us learned on the playground before we turned 7!

#highwind91 #answered mail #tw: abuse #long post #idk i feel like posting this is a bad idea...??#oh well it's make idiot decisions day!#it's ok to reblog if u want thx for asking chi!

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wtfzodiacsigns · 5 years

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How to Tell the Signs Like You

Gemini: Witty and talkative. You may think they are always this way, but if they like you, you’ll see it in their eyes. They can be absolutely weird when talking to their crush. They let their guard down. They’ll try to treat you like just other friends if they don’t want to be too obvious about it, but still they’ll pay more attention to what you have to say. They can be touchy, similar to Leos, but more spontaneous. Be careful with Geminis, they look at love as an experience/adventure; they are most likely to lead someone on for the thrill of it. They’ll also be really supportive and encourage you to go after what you want. They want the best for you.

Cancer: Shy and so sweet. All of their friends are 100% aware that they like you. You can probably know more about how a cancer feels about you by observing how their friends act around you. They are not exactly coy, but more cautious; lots of soft eyes and smiles. They won’t hesitate to ask if you’re okay or how you’re doing, unless they doubt themselves. If you see them looking at you, they are trying to figure out what to say to you or a way to subtly interact with you. They fear rejection, so they are probably least likely to make the first move.

Aries: Lots of hugs. They will often challenge you, whether this is challenging your beliefs or trying to prove their worth by winning a game. They get jealous easily and may come off as harsh when they see you flirting with or giving attention to someone else. They will think about you more than they like to admit. They will want to be updated with what’s going on in your life, and will actually show interest in your routines/interactions with others. There is a good chance these guys will just tell you how they feel.

Taurus: They’ll ask for your opinions on things and will try to hold stimulating conversations with you. All of your quirks and bad habits will become cute to them. They will look at you like you are this special human being who must be protected at all costs. Sometimes they’ll make fun of you, but all good natured. You will consume their thoughts. They will compliment you on things they admire about you in an almost-manipulative way of letting you know who they want you to be. All earth signs are somewhat manipulative. Taurus’ are just so sweet when they like someone, please don’t hurt them, they constantly fear that once they open up, they’ll be misunderstood or rejected, so don’t be discouraged by a more reserved presence. This is why they want to know so much about you.

Virgo: They will challenge you, but not in the same way that Aries does. Virgos tend to display their more negative qualities (sometimes on accident) to see if you are worth their time. They tend to be very insecure, so they need to know that you will stand by them at their worst. They will certainly pick out your flaws if they like you and may be harder on you because they want you to be the best you that you can be. They may tag along with your friend group to be around you. They often misinterpret feelings so they may share the “hot and cold” nature that Capricorns have because they are paranoid. They’ll open up to you just a bit more than they would with others. They want to make sure you stimulate them intellectually before they get too serious, this is important to them.

Leo: They’ll probably flat out tell you that they like you. Everyone within earshot will know it. They get really touchy feely and will play games with you; footsies under the table. They will say some things and you’ll be like what the fuck are you talking about, but forgive them, it’s their way of being nervous, even if they don’t know it. They’ll want to be around you. They will make more eye contact than they typically would with other people. If they really like you, they’ll adopt this special “voice” which they will only talk to you in. It’s often softer, sweeter, and really irresistible. They can be SO protective (it’s adorable)!! They also try to impress you and it may come off as arrogant, but it’s actually so cute because they just want you to see how great they are.

Scorpio: If they give you any special attention at all, this is a good sign. Scorpios are typically indifferent to people who do not interest/benefit them in the slightest. Scorpios are known for their impulsive wit and charm, but can be a bit more awkward (in a cute way) and less witty around their crush. EYES, EYES, EYES. Expect intense eye contact and lots of “subtle” staring from a smitten Scorpio. They are very protective, sometimes even possessive over their crush. Their eyes will light up with curiosity or lust at the mention of you.

Libra: This is a toughie because Libras are generally very charming and likable people. A good way to determine whether they like you is by asking around- if a Libra likes you, they will never say no when asked by others if they like you (unless they have good reason). They will try to be around you frequently and will try to show you their best side. They will treat you differently than other people if they like you, so watch out for any soft voices or loving eyes that they save for only a special someone.

Aquarius: They will want to hang around you. They tend to be more reserved emotionally, but will mess around with you to cope. Like Gemini, they will encourage you to go after what they think is best for you. If you are currently interested in someone else, a crushing Aquarius will not be too fond of said person and try to convince you that you “deserve better.” They will not let conversations die. Aquarians don’t have the greatest attention span so they definitely admire you in some way if they hold conversations with you, especially over text. Lots of laughter too!! Lots of staring, they probably won’t even look away when you make eye contact with them. Actually, they may just laugh out loud. They are often more courteous of you than they are with others.

Sagittarius: They try extra hard to make you laugh. They can be very childish and just want you to see the adventure in everything. They will try to impress you with their random acquired skills, which can range from being able to identify every bird in sight to the capability of balancing a pencil on their nose for several minutes. Sometimes they stutter or are shyer around the person they like, which is a telltale because Sags are nearly always outgoing or at least projective of what’s going on with them. They will compliment you a lot. They will try to be what they think you want <—-Capricorns do this too, but they merely deduce your personality and accentuate the features they think you’ll appreciate. While Sags think they are doing what Capricorns do so well, they really need to find someone who will accept them for who they are.

Pisces: Think coy and giggly. They are the ultimate dreamers and will utterly want to share these dreams and desires with you. They can be pretty awkward, but it’s cute. They’ll try to look their best around you. They get a bit shy, but are almost always in a flirty mood; lots of poking and material stealing and cute doodles. They are the epitome of a “middle school crush” if you get what I mean. The boys tend to be this way more than the girls because sometimes the girls consider it childish. Sometimes. They are most likely to stalk you on social media. Pisces flirt immensely through technology, and are great at sending cute texts or messages. This is often because they stutter or withdraw in real life. If they are single and ready to mingle, you’ll know, with frequent sighs and several exclamations of “no one likes me” followed by insecure laughter. Basically, they’re cute.

Capricorn: They will be very hot and cold. One day, they can be outrageous and flirty and coy, but you can bet your life that they will go home and overthink it and the next day they will give their utmost effort to avoid you or seem indifferent towards you. This is because Capricorns have a superiority complex, and sometimes a crush makes them feel weak; they are afraid of getting hurt so they will never act too smitten for too long. This is why most Capricorns will not admit to their feelings until they are secure in the fact that you feel the same way. A Capricorn will also try to help you and give you advice, not because they think you are wrong or in need of actual help, but because they care about your well-being and want you to live the best life you can. They will try to impress you with their unique talents or philosophies. They can be very coy and charming. Intense eye contact (they honestly believe they can seduce you with their eyes). They are chivalrous regardless of gender; they love holding doors for their crush (like literally all of them do this). Side note: they will never forget a single thing you say or do. Ever.

Source: meetthesigns

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darlinvandijk · 5 years

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Pregnancy Prank

Concept: so basically I’m in love with Ruel and decided my beautiful Aussie boy needs more love and what better way to do that than write about him. So here’s him getting pranked and if you have any requests just dm and whatnot and I’ll make something for you!(also this is really long so sorry bout that) I hope you enjoy it :)

I walk around the apartment setting up cameras in the living room, bedroom, and kitchen for the prank I’ll be pulling on Ruel today. Once I set it all up, I go to our bedroom and hit record to film my intro before he gets back from the studio.

“Hello whores, today I decided to do the pregnancy prank on Ruel, since y’all always seem to want him in videos. Like ew gross” I laugh knowing just how much my fans love him and our relationship. I then proceed to show them where I tried to “hide” the pregnancy tests in the garbage can of our bathroom under some toilet paper, and then all the other little things I did to hopefully raise suspicion, especially since he’s been so busy lately that we haven’t had enough time together for him to think these changes are happening overnight.

I walk into the living room and kitchen to make sure the cameras have started recording since I know he’ll be home shortly, especially since it’s nearing 7:30 pm right now. Just as I’m about to get up and grab a water bottle I hear keys jingling outside the door of our apartment.

“Ohhh shit y’all it’s show time, get your popcorn and tissues because I’m about to emotionally traumatize this kid” I whisper shout laughing towards the camera hidden near the tv.

“Hey baby, I’m home” I hear him call out from our little entryway. I hear him put his keys and wallet on the counter of the kitchen before I hear his soft footsteps into the living room where I’m laying across the couch trying to look like I’m aimlessly going through some social media posts.

He starts to walk over to me to give me a kiss like he always does when he gets home, but I get up and go to the bathroom, jogging right past him as he watches me with a confused look.

“Sorry baby I have to pee really bad” I shout out from down the hall, trying my hardest to not laugh at him. Once I finish my fake bathroom break, I walk back to the couch and lay down, watching him stand there still confused on what just happened, he seems to get over it and walks over to me.

“I missed you today” he mumbles as he lays on top of me on the couch, wrapping his arms around my waist and pressing his face against my chest. I then proceed to fake wince and move his face off my chest.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” He asks while pushing up slightly to analyze my body for any injuries, but not being able to get a clear look since I’m wearing one of his hoodies covering my body all the way to the tops of my thighs.

“I’m just a little sore up there, that’s all. Don’t worry about it bubs” I smile giving him a quick kiss. He seems to ponder over what I said before getting a confused look on his face.

“Why’re you sore? Your period isn’t for another like 2-3ish weeks and I definitely didn’t do anything to make them sore enough like that last night.” He replies with a slight smirk about his little comment at the end.

“First of all, what? How would you know when my period is, and please like you even did anything at all last night” I tease him and then laugh when he fully sits up and pulls me onto his lap with an offended look on his face.

“I have an app that tracks your period, we’ve been together for like 3 years now, of course I’m going to keep track of something that turns you into a hormonal demon. Also uhm I’m pretty sure you weren’t saying that last night” he adds with a sassy eye roll towards me, I just giggle and get up to go to the kitchen to start the next part of the prank.

“Babyyy come back I need cuddles today” he whines walking into the kitchen, “what the fuck? That’s a lot of food bubs” Ruel says watching me load a plate full of various snacks we have in the house. Having known each other so well, he knows that I never usually eat like this, nor do I eat such strange combinations of snacks.

“I’m hungry Ruel, like what do you just want me to starve” I snap at him, trying my hardest to not laugh at his taken aback face from my sudden mood change.

“Okay baby calm down, I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant that like it’s more than you’d usually snack on and is also kinda weird. Like you want me to not question why you’re eating bagels with strawberry cream cheese and baby carrots on top” he says incredulously.

I make my way back to the living room and proceed to eat my strange meal, trying to keep my facical expressions at bay, because not going to lie, this bagel was disgusting. He makes his way back into the living room and sits next to me putting his arm around me on the back of the couch. He watches me eat my bagel with a weird look on his face, almost as if he was starting to put a couple things together.

“My love, I’m gonna ask you a question, buuut you can’t get mad at me” He states looking me in the eyes. I just give him a shrug and continue eating, waiting for him to ask me whatever it is he wants to know.

“I’m not sure how to say this but do you think you could be preg-“ he starts with a slightly scared look before I cut him off shoving my plate into his arms and start jogging to the bathroom.

“I gotta pee” I call out, before running into the bathroom and shutting the door. As I flush the toilet, I hear a knock on the door, so I open the door just to come face to chest with my tall ass boyfriend. He lightly grabs me and puts me on top of our bed while scanning me and trying to figure out what’s changed about me.

“That’s your second time peeing and I’ve literally been home for maybe 40 minutes at the most, you’re eating weird shit, your boobs are sore, like that’s not normal” he says while watching my face for even a hint of a reaction. I remain blank and just slightly tilt my head to act like I don’t know what he’s going on about.

“I don’t know what you’re getting all weird about, maybe you’re the one being weird ” I say avoiding what he’s trying to insinuate. He watches as I roll off the bed and go to the kitchen, grabbing myself some hot Cheetos and plain yogurt.

“What’re you doing? You just ate your other snacks and still have some of your bagel left, do you really need to eat this?” He questions while looking at me like I’m crazy, especially since he knows how much I hate plain yogurt. I decide to twist his words knowing it’ll catch him off guard and really throw him off.

“What? Are you calling me fat? Oh my god you must think I’m ugly and that’s why you don’t want me to eat any of these things, I should have known” I wail and proceed to let tears fall down my face at an alarming rate, as I shove past him and run into our bedroom. He stands there shell shocked for a moment, not noticing the small smile I had when I ran past.

He runs into the room just in time to see me jump on the bed and curl up in a ball under the covers. I hear his footsteps approaching and continue to fake sob into the bed, feeling him sit on the bed and lightly put his hand on my back.

“Babygirl, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way, I just meant that it was a lot of food to consume in a short period of time and I don’t want you to get sick tonight and end up not feeling well” he whispers softly into my ear as he leans over me, having taken the covers off of my face. I avoid eye contact as he slowly wipes my tears away.

Ruel sighs and takes the covers off me, pulling me into his arms once he realizes I’m not going to reply to him. As I have my face in his neck, I look over to where the camera is and give it a small grin knowing he can’t see what I’m doing. I put my face back against his neck and sit there as he slowly rubs my back and plays with my hair.

“My love, you know I didn’t mean it like that. You’re the absolute most gorgeous woman on the planet and I love every single thing about you. All your curves and how they feel under my hands, that pretty little button nose of yours, and your ass is also out of this world if I do say so myself” he softly says into my ear with a chuckle when he feels me smile against his collarbone. I then start laughing knowing how big of a headass he is and that he’s so cute thinking he hurt my feelings but I’m really out here fucking with him.

“Yeah it’s all good in the hood” I say as I stand up and act like nothing happened causing him to gape at my back because of the fact that I was sobbing mere seconds ago but am now fine. He proceeds to shake his head and walk to the bathroom, telling me he’ll be out in a sec.

I turn my head to the camera once he’s in knowing that it’s about to be showtime since it’ll be hard to miss the corner of the pink pregnancy test box and the fact that he already tried to question if I was earlier. I hear him mumble something from the bathroom before he starts fumbling with the lock and the door flies open.

“What in the absolute fuck is this?” He says holding the box and three positive pregnancy sticks in front of me. I notice how he doesn’t seem angry but rather scared and worried about the possible predicament we are in.

“Why were you digging through the trash can? Kinda gross if I do say so myself” I say while laughing nervously, which causes him to give me an incredulous look for trying to make a joke at a time like this.

“It’s not the time to be joking around, are you actually pregnant? I should have known from the way you’ve been weird as shit today. Oh god what’re we going to do.” He mumbles sitting on the edge of the bed, roughly brushing through his hair with his hands.

“Do you not want a baby with me.. I know it’s not ideal but I don’t know I just thought if anyone could get through this it’d be us.” I whimper with a couple tears rolling down my face. He immediately whips around and wraps himself around me to comfort me. I guess you could say I deserve an Oscar for the performance I’m giving right now.

“I love you. We will get through this, it’s going to be hard but I’ll be with you every step of the way. I promise and you know I don’t break promises my love” he mumbles planting a kiss onto my neck.

“I love you too, thank god you’ll be with me every step of the way, because having a food baby really is tough work my friend” I say seriously looking into his eyes. He sits there staring at me like I’m crazy, before sitting up and pulling away from me.

“What the fuck do you mean a food baby” he says clearly stressed out from the tumultuous events today. I start laughing and jump on top of him straddling his waist.

“I’m Ashton Kutcher and you’ve just been Punk’d baby boy. I’m not pregnant, this is a prank for my channel” I laugh while kissing all over his face knowing he’s slightly ticked off.

“You honestly piss me off so much sometimes” he mumbles as he watches me grab the camera and put it right in front of us. I wrap my arms around him and proceed to film my outro as he glares at the camera but still holds onto me since we all know he’s ObSesSEd with me. I then go and turn off the other cameras before going back to where he is laying on the bed.

“I’m sorry, buuut I love you and thank you for being so understanding and loving because it shows just how much you’d do for me and our future. We’ll have a baby one day, just not yet” I whisper peppering his neck with little kisses knowing it’s his weakness.

“You’re lucky I love you asshole” he mumbles rolling over and completely just cuddling me like the oversized koala he is.

“I’m more than lucky bubs. You’re the love of my life and you always will be” I whisper as I play with his hair and watch as he falls asleep with his head in the crook of my neck and arms and legs wrapped around me. My last thought before I drift off with a smile on my face thinking that wow I really am not only the queen of pranks but also the luckiest girl alive.

#ruel van dijk #one ruel #ruel #ruel imagines #ruel imagine #free time ep #ruelvincentvandijk #imagine #imagines #ruel one shot #one shot #x reader #ruel fanfic

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strangershield · 5 years

Text

The Impostor

Pairings: Platonic Daisy x Fem! Reader

Request:

could you write something for daisy during the recent season?

would you mind writing a platonic Daisy Johnson x SHIELD agent fem reader where Daisy and the reader were best friends, almost like sisters, and when the reader died on a mission post season 5 Daisy was devastated? Then around season 6 the reader comes back but is completely different because she was reborn on an alien planet and has never met the team and Daisy is struggling to cope with that?

Warnings: season 6 spoilers, death, memory loss, kinda sad near the end

She noticed her blank eyes first. The vast black, void of colour and emotion, that glazed her eyes like a film. Daisy’s own eyes glassed over as the world around her became a distant memory, foggy and muffled as if she was underwater. Yet she was at the SHIELD base, surrounded by her friends and her impostor of a best friend. The air in the room, once alive with electricity, had settled to a dull static.

“Daisy, what’s wrong?”

Jemma’s voice rose from the corners of Daisy’s conscious as the scientist began to step forward. Only then did Daisy realize that she was frozen, staring into (Y/N)’s eyes whilst holding her at an arm’s length.

“Daisy?”

She snapped back to reality, to time, with a sharp jolt. A dull thud echoed as she stepped back from (Y/N)’s body, her ankle rolling in the process. Thankfully May was near, catching Daisy as she fell for she was too in shock to react to her small stumble. Daisy crumbled in May’s warmth, indulging in her familiarity. The second of the pair stood rigid, holding her friend who had grown doll-like, unable to move. Small clicks and thuds bounced from the concrete floor as the others moved to watch Daisy. Their eyes flickered towards (Y/N), a gaze once consumed with joy now littered with apprehension.

“Daisy?” May asked again, staring anxiously through stern brows.

“It’s not her.” Daisy whispered hoarsely.

The others looked at the girl in question, confused.

“It’s not her.”

Everyone seemed to be pacing but Daisy. The now blonde had thrown herself (quite dramatically) upon the black sofa that occupied the break room as the others bombarded her with questions or theories. She either responded with a sound or let it fly over her head, for she was too emotionally drained to think properly.

The others were less enthusiastic about her lethargic state. Fitzsimmons bounced theories off of each other, varying from alien planets to a long lost twin. Deke occasionally injected his own thoughts, but mainly stayed glued to his phone as he tried to find any articles or social media posts surrounding (Y/N). May paced in front of Daisy while she waited for Coulson’s return. Paced seemed like an understatement, marching in a repetitive motion as she fired question after question.

“When was the last time you saw her?”

“Eh?”

“Daisy, I need you to-“

“I don’t know May!”

Daisy yelled, violently standing up in one swift motion. The room grew eerie quiet as everyone watched Daisy in awe, who was a completely different woman to the lifeless body that lay on the couch only seconds ago. May didn’t flitch, but she didn’t react either.

“I don’t...know.”

Just as quickly as she’d switched, Daisy had reverted back to her state of numbness and confusion. She felt like collapsing, the weight of her own body too much to bare as her throat closed over. Because she did know when she last saw (Y/N). It was hard to forget the day her best friend died.

May took a definitive step forward and placed an arm on her shoulder, squeezing gently.

“We’ll figure this out, okay?” She said lowly, although everyone heard in the room’s absence of noise. “In the mean time, you need to get a grip.”

“First you hold me up, which is basically a hug, and now an arm squeeze with a threat. What’s gotten into you today?”

“It’s not a threat.” May smirked, glad to see some of the old Daisy peaking through the girl’s damaged state.

Before Daisy could reply, the doors flew open to reveal Coulson and two guests.

“Coulson already filled us in.” Yo-Yo revealed as the three stepped into the room. She went straight to May, the pair immediately breaking out in a conversation of hushed tones, as Mack made his way over to Daisy. They didn’t speak, he only consumed her in one of Mack’s rare but legendary hugs. Daisy let out a sigh, burying her head in Mack’s warmth and familiar scent.

“You okay, Tremors?” He whispered, muffled as his cheek lay against her head.

Daisy didn’t reply, she couldn’t lie to Mack. He would see through her facade, and they were too good of friends to not be completely honest with each other, even when the truth hurt. Time stopped as Daisy listened to the soothing, steady beat of Mack’s heart, wanting to indulge in this moment of warmth and security forever. Unfortunately, she had demons to face.

“What’s the latest?” May asked, finishing her secretive chat with Yo-Yo.

Daisy reluctantly pulled away from Mack to face Coulson, yet he never left her side. Coulson quickly scanned Daisy’s face before addressing everyone, concerned about her wellbeing and overall stability.

“Unfortunately, or fortunately depending on your angle, Daisy was right. This isn’t our (Y/N).”

Daisy was punched in the stomach by an invisible force, completely winded. Whilst she saw it coming, the truth was still a bitch. A part of her had hoped that she was wrong, that it really was (Y/N). It was stupid, wishful thinking.

Everyone else seemed to be just as blindsided. Fitz buried his head in his hands as Jemma pressed her forehead to his back, the pair relying on each other for strength and support. Deke almost threw his phone but decided against the frenzied action, instead letting out a deep sigh and glaring at the floor. (Y/N) was apart of the team, so it was a low blow. Even May looked devastated, staring at any object or surface that wasn’t another human being.

“Did she speak?” Daisy wheezed out, staring directly at Coulson.

“Not much, but a little. She seemed pretty disorientated.”

Daisy stared at Coulson for a moment before she let out an incredulous, bitter laugh.

“You think she’s disorientated? That she doesn’t know where or who she is? She freaking stole (Y/N)’s face and is acting as some impostor.”

“Daisy-“ Mack began to warn.

“No, she’s not stupid or innocent. She’s not the victim. Why else would she come here of all places. Why the lighthouse, our secret base?”

Coulson stared blankly at Daisy, letting the silence fuel his thoughts.

“I’ll be honest, I don’t know. I’m still trying to fill in the blanks myself. But Daisy, let’s not villianise anyone yet.”

Daisy scoffed, pulling away from Mack to gain some personal space. The whole situation make her skin crawl.

“I may have a theory.” Jemma offered, her eyes flickering across the room to gage the reaction. Coulson shrugged and spread his hands.

“The room’s yours.”

“Where (Y/N) materialized from remains a mystery. My best bet is still an alternate dimension, an alien planet or some kind of clone. But I think she must have some memories, or at least feelings of familiarity. It would explain why she came here, to us. She may recognize us even if we’re strangers to her.”

“So you think she is attached to our (Y/N)?” May asked, knowing they were treading in dangerous waters.

“Perhaps,” Jemma answered hesitantly, “but I don’t want to imply too much with the little knowledge we have.”

“It fits with the doppelgänger and clone theory, being able to recognize the original owner or host’s thoughts.” Fitz offered, trying desperately to think of a reasonably explanation.

“We’re sure it’s not A.I?” Mack asked cautiously.

“Definitely, or at least 98%. It’s very advanced tech if it is an A.I.”

“It’s not A.I.” Daisy declared, surprising everyone with her sudden input. She became the new subject of interest, eyes fixated upon her.

“I looked at her. I spoke to her. It’s not A.I tech, but it’s also not (Y/N).”

“Daisy, are you-“ Jemma started softly, eyebrows creasing together as she looked at her friend.

“I know I have an emotional link to this but I know it’s not her. I know, Jemma.”

Jemma only offered a small smile of concern laced with sympathy before she turned back to Fitz.

The room became alive once more, a flurry of voices with no real answers or solutions. Only Daisy remained silent, trying to think logically about the vessel that looked like her best friend. It still didn’t seem real. Maybe that was her problem.

“Let me talk to her.”

Silence.

Everyone stopped and stared at Daisy once more.

Then the protests began.

Everyone disagreed, considering her request detrimental to her wellbeing...and (Y/N)’s. There were still so many unanswered questions and questions to still be thought of. It was irrational, unreasonable, dangerous. Those were Daisy’s favourite conditions.

“Please, I need to see her for myself again. Let me talk to her.”

She locked eyes with Coulson, knowing he would understand. Luckily, he knew her well. He nodded grimly, taking a breath before announcing his decision.

“You get ten minutes.”

(Y/N) wasn’t kept in a cell, she wasn’t a criminal. But she was a potential threat, an unknown case yet to be explained. Hence, the containment module seemed to be the safest place. Daisy looked into the room through the door’s small window, her whole body alive with chills. She couldn’t see (Y/N), not from this angle, but the white hexagon walls did enough to make her nauseous. Too much had happened in this room, to her and to others. And now a whole new memory was about to made, for better or for worse.

Taking a silent breath, Daisy set her neutral interrogation face and opened the door. She walked in steadily, finding (Y/N) sitting upright on the crisp, white bed. Looking at her again, Daisy’s breath was taken away. Same colour hair, same blemishes on her face, same eye colour. Yeah something was off. Her posture was too rigid, too robotic. Daisy kept her distance.

“Hi, I’m Agent Johnson. We met earlier.”

Daisy clasped her hands in front of her, voice void of emotion. When the stranger didn’t respond, Daisy continued.

“Do you have a name?”

“(Y/N).”

Daisy’s heart fluttered. The room started to spin as she comprehended what just happened. That was her voice. She has her name.

“Where are you from?” Daisy asked clumsily. She couldn’t call her (Y/N). Not yet.

The girl didn’t reply, and Daisy wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing. She let the silence continue for a moment longer before she tried again, becoming desperate for answers. Precious time was also ticking away.

“Are you from Earth? Another planet? Another galaxy?”

(Y/N) remained still, emotionless. It was a harrowing sight.

“I don’t know.” She finally answered. Something changed, and suddenly she was staring at Daisy with wide eyes.

“I don’t know.” Her voice has changed, from sterile and robotic to panicked and urgent. The blood in Daisy’s veins ran cold, her body acting on instinct and taking a step backwards.

(Y/N) was staring at her, piercing holes through Daisy with her eyes. Yet it wasn’t threatening, it was a plea for help.

“It’s...it’s okay.” Daisy stammered after she regained some awareness, trying to ease (Y/N)’s mind. The girl’s eyes screwed shut as she shook her head.

“No, no it’s not. I don’t know.”

“What do you know?” Daisy asked, trying a different angle.

She watched as the other woman searched her mind for an answer.

“I know my name. I know I woke up in dust, and only one thing was clear: you. I knew I had to find you.”

Daisy felt like she might internally combust. She was trying to keep her walls up, to remain indifferent to this stranger. But it was (Y/N). She had (Y/N)’s face. She had her voice. And now that it was clear that (Y/N)’s motivation was Daisy herself? Her walls began to crumble.

Digging her fingernails into the palm of her hand, Daisy took a step forward and lowered her voice, engaging in a new kind of intimacy.

“How did you get here?” She whispered.

(Y/N) wouldn’t look at Daisy, only at the floor or the opposite wall. Daisy’s heart sank.

“I found a ship, a plane, whatever you call it. It wasn’t easy.” Her voice was brittle and unwelcoming to any further questions. Daisy understood. After all, she had done some questionable things in her own past, and (Y/N), her (Y/N), had never judged her.

Before Daisy could reply, the door opened.

She swore under her breath as Coulson and May entered the room slowly. Daisy’s mind went haywire. She needed more time, she was getting through to (Y/N).

“Daisy, it’s been-“

“No. Coulson, I’m sorry, but she’s talking.”

“This isn’t up for a discussion.”

“Did you not hear me? She’s talking!”

“Daisy, calm down.” May warned as Daisy’s heart rate rose rapidly.

Why couldn’t they see that she just needed time? She clenched and unclenched her fists as she looked from Coulson and May to (Y/N).

She needed more time.

“Please.” She whispered in a hoarse whisper.

The room stood still. Eventually, Coulson stepped forward and placed a hand on Daisy’s shoulder, light and without force.

“Maybe after some lunch, okay?”

She visibly collapsed in on herself in defeat. There was no point making a scene and arguing, she was outnumbered and might remove herself from (Y/N) for good. She had one last look at (Y/N), sitting quietly with hidden eyes on the bed, before she left with May and Coulson by her side. She would be back. She had to come back. (Y/N) was counting on her.

In a cruel yet expected twist of fate, (Y/N) wasn’t (Y/N).

They all saw it coming, even Daisy. Yet the truth is a mysterious, often painful force of nature that will always prevail. For Daisy, the pain was worse than being shot in the stomach and being on the brink of death (which had happened before). She had lost so many people: Ward, her parents, Lincoln. Now (Y/N) was added to her list of ghosts, twice in fact. Losing her the second time was almost as worse as the first. Almost.

The silver chain gleamed in the warm light as Daisy sat on her bed, twirling the necklace in her hand. Her fingertips traced the cool metal, from each individual link to the paper airplane chain that dangled at one end. She watched as the tip of her index finger became misshapen as she pressed it further into the blunt point of the chain when someone knocked at her door. She muttered some form of approval, too mesmerized by the necklace to look up or open the door herself.

Jemma entered quietly, closing the door behind her with a soft and polite thud. She was fiddling with her own piece of jewelry, the ring on her finger twirling endless circles as the scientist gave Daisy a warm smile.

“How are you?”

Daisy let the question fly over her head. It was something she had been asked for weeks but couldn’t answer honestly. How could she? It felt like her insides had been quaked apart and stitched back together.

“I’m so sorry, that was a stupid thing to ask.” Jemma apologized immediately, her eyebrows creasing together as she spoke.

Daisy sighed and finally brought her gaze up to Jemma, still holding the necklace.

“It’s okay Jemma, you’re...okay. I’m kind of glad it’s you and not Mack for a change.”

“He’s still trying to get you to open up?” Jemma laughed.

“Oh yeah.”

Jemma rolled her eyes playfully, Daisy even managing half a smile. The moment died quickly, reality setting in.

“What, um...what do you want?” Daisy asked, blunt but honest.

Jemma slowly crossed the room and sat next to Daisy as she replied, trying to create a space of warmth and comfort.

“Well, I’m not here to be your therapist, but I thought I could lend you some advice.”

She waited to see if Daisy would refute or reject her offer. She didn’t.

The two sat arm to arm on the edge of Daisy’s bed as Jemma wondered how to begin. The dated yellow light from above bathed them in unique shadows and faded golden rays, lightening their faces but darkening their eyes and the hollows of their cheeks.

“I’ve lost Fitz a number of times now. We all know about the classic Fitzsimmons curse,” she nudged Daisy’s arm for comedic effect, trying to lighten the dreary mood. “But last time felt different. We weren’t lost in time or space or an alternate reality. I actually lost him. For good. And it...it was-“ her voice broke, tears suddenly forming in her eyes.

Jemma’s heart was large but scarred and bleeding. Some things she could never truly recover from, like Fitz’s death. The others never saw her break down, she maintained a facade and kept consumed in her work. But with Daisy, Jemma could be her unapologetic self. It was the beauty of friendship.

Daisy’s heart sunk for her friend as she leant across and grabbed her hand, squeezing it tight.

“I’m so sorry, I’m meant to be helping you not becoming a blubbering mess myself.” The two laughed somberly as Jemma began the wipe her tears away with the palm of her hand. She took a deep breath before continuing, voice slightly shaky.

“Losing Fitz was awful. It sucked. And realizing I could get him back...well, that changed everything. I could have my Fitz back, no strings or A.I attached. But I was scared. Scared it wouldn’t be him, that it wouldn’t work and he’d be a stranger. And, yes, he did miss our wedding and a few other key events, but he’s still my Fitz.”

Now it was Jemma’s turn to squeeze Daisy’s hand.

“Daisy, we all went through the Coulson saga, but I know what it’s like to actually lose and regain someone. I know. I understand your pain. And I’m here for you.”

Daisy’s knuckles whitened as she gripped onto Jemma’s hand as if it were life support. Her throat was tight and dry, so it took her a moment to speak.

“I...Jemma, I miss her.”

Something inside Daisy snapped.

She felt her heart break under the weight of losing (Y/N), twice. Jemma was quick to maneuver herself to cradle Daisy in her arms, returning the favor of comforting a friend with a broken heart. Daisy couldn’t breath, her chest heaving and aching with each sob. As she cried in Jemma’s arms, her mind replayed her final moments with (Y/N), the real (Y/N). She didn’t know if it made it better or worse, but there was no controlling her mind. The memories was all she had now, any glimmer of hope for a revival gone after the impostor incident. So Daisy sat with Jemma and did something she had banned herself from doing: she grieved.

“Daisy, I’m so sorry.”

“No, don’t say that. Don’t you dare say that!”

Every machine in the room was beeping, no matter how small or irrelevant. Agents ran behind Daisy in sync with the symphony of beeps as she surveyed the spread of maps, coordinates and vitals in front of her. It wasn’t good. (Y/N) and her co-pilot had lost an engine and were descending rapidly. Daisy was trying to think of a solution desperately, but time was flowing like water and everyone knew that the odds were not good.

Daisy’s thoughts were interrupted by a sudden and violent swoosh that came from (Y/N)’s end of the coms. Her stomach flipped.

“(Y/N), what was that?”

Silence.

“Oh god you better be alive. (Y/N) I swear-“

“I’m sorry I’m here! I’m here! I’m alive! Just a bit preoccupied by my crashing jet.”

In any other scenario Daisy would have laughed at her witty sarcasm. It wasn’t appropriate now.

Daisy breathed a sigh of relief yet still felt nauseous as if she was on the spinning, falling jet.

“Okay, well what was that?”

“I may have given Bailey the spare parachute.”

“You what now?” Daisy was consumed by rage and fear. “This is no time to be a hero, (Y/N). Your life is at stake.”

“I’m stuck!”

To Daisy, the room fell silent even though there were dozens of conversations happening in the room. It was only her and (Y/N).

She heard her friend conceal a sob in the disguise of a shaky breath, and Daisy felt like screaming in angst. She couldn’t do anything, and her friend was about to die.

“When our engine got taken out the front got damaged. My seat’s stuck, it won’t eject. My legs don’t look too good either, especially my left one. I think it’s crushed from where the side of the jet collapsed after impact.”

(Y/N)‘s voice was calm but far from fearless. She was panicking, and so was Daisy.

She only had seconds until impact, and both women hated how hopeless they were.

“Daisy, tell me something good.”

“(Y/N)-“

“Daisy please. Please distract me.”

Her plea broke through to Daisy, and she knew what she had to do. Pushing her own grief aside, Daisy focused on (Y/N)’s voice and not the flashing red numbers in front of her. She even smiled to sound more genuine.

“So you know how we brought Deke back from space?”

(Y/N) laughed. “Yeah, and he has a total crush on you. Why are we talking about him right now?”

“Well, did you know he filled my bed with lemons to express his love for me?”

“You’re kidding”.

“Unfortunately no. It reminded me of summer camp-“

“With Jason Higgins! Oh my god, that kid had it bad for me.”

Daisy laughed at the memory, her eyes filling with tears. (Y/N)’s breathing was intensifying as the ground grew closer and closer.

“He gave you an apple everyday.” Daisy continued, trying to distract her.

“Yeah, a Granny Smith which I hated. So on the last day of camp and I stole his beloved toy car and a black marker and wrote-“

Static.

Silence.

“(Y/N)?”

More silence.

Daisy screamed.

#marvel #agents of shield #daisy x reader #Daisy Johnson #daisy johnson x reader #mcu #aos #fanfic #fanfiction #angst #jemma simmons #request #writing #my writing

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secretkingdomjellyfish · 4 years

Text

Another day, another penny...

Here we are again. Life has become even harder with COVID doing the rounds and offing every poor sod and his granny. I actually thought I had already witnessed or experienced the worst of what humanity had to offer but no, life and society continued to surprise me. From the hypocritical ‘clap for our carers’ movement (The same people who clapped where the same people in the supermarket the next day sneezing on your eyeballs - two meter rule, people!!) to our world leaders and celebrities telling the world ‘we are all in it together’ whilst they lounged in their 20 room mansions. It was all a bit...shallow. Every month is like opening the world’s shittiest advent calender only rather than getting a nice little piece of chocolate behind each window, we get some new unseen horror unleashed on us.

Then came the BLM riots. Another black man was killed by corrupt cops who gave absolutely zero fucks about him or anyone else. People were, entirely and justifiably, angry and the protests began but then something else happened. I had already seen this phenomenon slowly creeping it’s way in with COVID making the rounds but I just put it down to me being bitter and angry at life, therefore my perception of people (I had already set the bar WAAAAAY low) was skewed.

I saw people take advantage of an entire society’s grief. I saw the vultures circle to loot and hate or to share their idiologies of hate and pain and recruit more angry, tired teenagers to do their twisted bidding.

I saw both extremes of the coin take advantage of the situation to spread that same hate and lash out at the other side. ‘Don’t look at us, look at what the other side are doing!’ I heard them cry. ‘The people protesting are just violent thugs, look at them causing all this damage, how else are the police meant to act?!’. ‘It’s not us, we are just so tired of the police taking advantage of us and I REALLY need these new Nikes’.

But then there were the people in the middle. The people who just wanted real change. The people who just wanted the hate, the pain and the injustice to stop. Those people marched and protested and wanted their voices heard. Who were seeing what I and many others were seeing and wanted to restore the balance. Unfortunately they were quickly drowned out by the screeching of the two extremes and it became a game of ‘who could sling the most mud to deflect from their own actions’.

To say I’m sickened is an understatement. I’m embarrassed and I’m ashamed. I’m ashamed to even call myself a human being. My heart is utterly breaking at how broken we really are, how much trauma has been ignored and how easily we are influenced by shiny, new things. How the media continually drives us, like the herd animals we are, to consume, to buy, to hate others that are different to us. To make us think that our little tribe, family, race are the best and everyone else is wrong.

Do me a favour. Find a story. Any major story and then go read/watch/listen to several different news outlets (on both sides of the coin - you know who they are) and see how they report it. I can assure you, it will be like watching a different story altogether. Don’t get me wrong, they all have the very basic facts but they simply cater to their audience. No wonder people think they are right, they are surrounded by others who think the same way. They feel a kinship in a really scary world. The leaders (not the real movements, not the real game changers) take with one had and point with the other.

Plato had it right with his cave anology. Those shadows that the people can see are just that. Shadows. Boogymen. Nothing more than smoke and mirrors. I get that the world is scary, I get that we don’t understand even a fraction of how the world works and I understand so SO well that it feels good to find others who think the same way as you and even if you ‘see the light’ and see the world for what it really is, there are few who will listen to you. Most of us took the blue pill because the truth is just too painful to bear.

However, a new pattern has emerged here. A much more dangerous way of thinking. We just don’t allow ourselves to be wrong, it physically hurts! Everything we do is so emotional today. Everyone just wants to think emotionally rather than taking all of three seconds to think about something logically and rationally.

Society is full of adult toddlers who have a tantrum when they are challenged. Rather than giving them our time, we should be giving them a sippy cup with chocolate milk and a nap. I get it, it feels bloody good to scream and be angry. To blame someone other than yourself or your leaders for the life you have lived. All those missed chances? Not your fault, not your parents or your leaders fault. It was those pesky (insert blameless minority here)

Now I can already hear many of you shouting ‘I hear you lamenting but I don’t hear you coming up with any answers’ but the solution is simple. The implementation is incredibly complex and difficult and (unfortunately I believe it is also impossible but I’m praying I’m wrong) will require everyone to do their part but the answer is so SO simple. Equality.

I don’t mean the bullshit ‘everyone should be treated the same’ that’s not equality. I’m saying EVERYONE should be given the same chances regardless of their race, gender, sexuality, sex, wealth. Instead, the world is incredibly unbalanced and unequal and I have strong feeling that mother nature is about to shift it back into balance because she is a bad bitch who is fed up with us just taking but not giving back.

In my teens I went through a phase (I can hear the sniggering in the back). I found wicca (I can now hear louder sniggering). Now this phase lasted about 6 months and generally involved me wearing a lot of black, buying some coloured candles and generally trying out some cool spells because I could now do motherfucking magic biatches! But, soon enough, it fissled out and I got bored and moved onto something else (mainly the grunge scene - they, just, like...got me, you know?). But, I took one of my very core beliefs away from it. As at the heart of this beautiful religion it was all about balance. Whatever you took, you had to give back and EVERYTHING came back threefold - you had pay the dammed ferryman (you always have to pay eventually and not always in the ways you expect) . So, you sent out good vibes? You got those good vibes magnified right back atcha! Kind of a witchy butterfly effect.

Furthermore (check me out with the academic phrasing..eh? eh?!) many of followers of Wicca believed that their main deity was simply like a multi faceted diamond with many faces and each aspect simply reflected a different religion, deity or belief system and that she was always with them no matter what deity they believed in. (disclaimer - It’s been a long time since I was involved in this so if I’m wrong, please accept my deepest and most sincere apologies) but, again, it kinda made sense to me at the time (and still does). When I first started, it was new, it was different and it gave me purpose but then the glamor kinda got scraped off and I actually had to do some hard work and, being a teenager, I was just not into that.

Now I know many of you are asking ‘what the hell has this got to do with the price of cheese’ but bear with me because the answer is, again, relatively simple.

It’s all about balance. We have taken but not given back for so long. As a society we think that being successful is hoarding as much wealth as possible, drinking champagne and eating caviar whenever we feel like it, occasionally giving a few quid to charity to show that ‘we’re in this together’ because that is what the media have us believe. That it’s the ULTIMATE goal to have your own private jet and generally just whittle your life away doing nothing but pamper yourself.

We think the only way to achieve this is to take it by force. To be ruthless and cutthroat and step on as many heads as we can to get to the top, right?! That’s always been the way it was done!

However, that might have worked for a while but, as a society we have kinda went full circle and are right back at the start - openly rejecting facts and evidence for emotion (well it feels better to believe in x therefore it must be x) and anecdotal evidence (if you crack an egg at the fulll moon whilst hopping on one foot, you will totally get rid of that cancer - it totally worked for a friend of a friend so it must be true).

Right now the world is a giant carnival game and we all know those carnival games are rigged as shit. Step right up, Steeeep right up! Come along, try your luck! Why you look like an amazingly (add appropriate adjective here) individual, I bet YOU could win - not like any of these other chumps. The whole thing is rigged in favour of the wealthy and powerful and, in all honesty, I completely understand. It’s in our very nature.

It’s been so insidiuous and we have been bombarded so much with this message that we now have an entire generation of very broken and exhausted individuals who think that surviving and living are the same thing. News flash. They’re not.

This is why we are in the situation we are in. We have simply been sleep walking and ignoring what is right in front of us. In order to move on, we need to accept some really hard truth and take a long, good look at who we are as both individuals and as a society. Honestly? I don’t think we are ready for that yet the other two options are to continue the way we are going and let mother nature do her thing or simply destroy ourselves in the process. We are quickly running out of options and I REALLY don’t want to be the guy who said ‘I told you so’.

Now before anyone starts with the whole ‘you’re so wrong because (insert appropriate defense here) just stop and think for three seconds. Let that knee jerk reaction go and give it time to sink in. Even read it again if you have the attention span to do so and then think. Is he really wrong? Maybe the truth just hurts.

TL;DR - society is really broken and there’s no easy fix.

#wtf #covid #blm #hardchoice #depression #anxiety #currentaffairs

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shawn-does-stuff · 5 years

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Shawn Mendes: ‘I’m 20. I want to have fun’

by Michael Cragg

Shawn Mendes is the red-hot poster boy of pop. His videos have been viewed 6bn times and he has more than 42m followers on Instagram. But don’t worry if you haven’t heard of him… just ask a teenager

Shawn Mendes is standing in his underpants in a suite on the fifth floor of a London hotel as a 200-strong crowd of screaming teenage girls gathers outside. “Everyone who doesn’t need to be in the room, leave the room,” he says politely but firmly, in a soft Canadian drawl. Pop’s current poster boy should be used to causing a stir. His #MyCalvins campaign (following in the footsteps of Justin Bieber in 2016) broke the internet earlier this year, inching the 20-year-old teen phenomenon – three US chart-topping albums, 30m monthly listeners on Spotify, more than 6bn video views – closer to tabloid supremacy and global domination.

At the Brit Awards that night, Mendes will cringe as presenter Jack Whitehall ribs him about “suspicious packages”, so it’s curious to hear him describe the Calvin Klein opportunity – and the subsequent results pored over by his 42m Instagram followers – as “a goal of mine at the top of 2018. As much as it’s a stepping stone for me to play a stadium, it’s a huge moment for me to step in front of a camera and take my shirt off. I don’t see one being less meaningful than the other.”

The air is thick with earnestness as we sit down for lunch in the hotel restaurant. I blurt out a question about whether he had to wear extra padding. “No,” he says, eyebrow raised. “They’re really good underwear.” Did they send you some free ones? “Yeah, I have boxes of them at home.” He lifts up the bottom edge of his T-shirt and pulls at the waistband of his underwear before quickly pulling his shirt back down. You’re not wearing them today are you? “Not right now,” he says sheepishly. “I should be.”

Mendes’s boy-next-door appeal and laser-guided ambition feels rather wholesome, with his sensitive, heart-on-sleeve pop-rock bops such as 2015’s UK chart-topper Stitches, positioning him as perfect boyfriend material in pop’s all important fantasy world. If Bieber is the unknowable loose cannon, then Mendes is pop’s picture-perfect head boy. But it’s clear that exposing himself so literally has its downside. “The last 48 hours have been so consuming, just reading what people are saying about me [on social media],” he sighs. Do you have to read it? “No, but there’s something about being human that makes you. I’m scared of social media and how much it affects me,” he continues. “It’s literally become infused with who I am.”

Last October he apologised to his 21m Twitter followers, claiming he was worried that what he was posting wasn’t meaningful enough. “For the first time I realised how many people are listening,” he says. He now monitors how often he goes online and tries to take regular breaks, using meditation to relax. “I don’t think of myself as conceited, but I definitely spend a lot of time reading about myself,” he says.

Mendes famously has three daily rules – going to the gym, two vocal lessons and never saying no to a selfie with a fan. He’s managed the first two so far and “took about 200 selfies yesterday”. Despite this, his rise has chimed with a shift in the upper echelons of pop – its recent exponents being anti-pop stars Adele, Ed Sheeran and (with her goofy dancing style and eternal quest for relatability) Taylor Swift, who’s now a friend. Even One Direction – whose blend of teen-orientated, guitar-led pop paved the way for Mendes – always felt like they were trying to play down the pop star element.

“The more open the world is getting, the more people are craving real,” he says. “I don’t think people want to see a made-up person. [In the past] there’s been a lot of dressing up, and I still think that stuff is amazing – like I’ll wear a sleeveless top – but at the end of it, when it comes down to you, I think it’s about being authentic.” For all this talk of authenticity and being like everyone else, I tell him, you’re also a pop star begging people to look at you. Do you have to believe your own hype? “Of course,” he says, his eyes darting over my shoulder to the mirrored wall behind. “You have to. If you wake up every day and say, ‘I’m OK,’ you’re going to just be that. If you wake up everyday and look at yourself in the mirror and say, ‘I’m great, let’s go sell out that stadium,’ then you will.”

You could say he’s been in motivational training for a while now, having started out as a 14-year-old YouTube star, uploading acoustic covers of songs (Bieber, among others), before switching to the now defunct social media platform Vine. He taught himself to play the guitar via YouTube tutorials at home in the small town of Pickering, Ontario, while one of his first public performances was in a plaza in Portugal where his family – mum Karen, a British estate agent, dad Manny, a Portuguese businessman, and younger sister Aaliyah – were holidaying. While his parents were shopping, Mendes hopped up next to a statue and belted out a Bruno Mars song. “I was sweating and I thought, ‘Dude, if you want to be a singer, you’ve got to at least be able to stand on this statue and sing,’” he says of that moment.

Where was that pressure coming from? “It was from myself, which is pretty much a big statement on my personality at 14 years old.”

While he says he loved school, his early fame – after signing to Island Records his debut single, Life of the Party, was released when he was just 15 – meant he was bullied. “People were cruel at first,” he says, clearing his throat and fiddling with the rim of a cup of green tea. “They just thought it was so stupid.” He’d skip school every Friday to attend influencer events in which social media stars met fans who already assumed they were friends. “I was taking 1,500 selfies a night,” he laughs. “You quickly learn that what you love to do is a job, but I don’t resent what I do. I don’t hate taking selfies.”

Success was rapid, with his third single Stitches breaking the US top five and peaking at number one in the UK. That same year he supported Swift on her 1989 stadium tour. How did he cope? “This life is more real to me than anything,” he says. “If I were to walk down the street and no one recognised me, I’d feel something was wrong. When I was really young [fame] morphed who I was. If it was to become normal, it would feel un-normal to me.”

From the outside, I say, the other recent pop artists who can relate to that are Britney Spears or Bieber, people who have had issues with growing up in the spotlight. “A couple of times I’ve worried about that, too, but outside of all this I live a really normal life,” he says slowly. “You have to make an effort to carry your own bags, drive your own car and not be afraid of the public. I don’t blame people at all who stay inside. I understand how it could be terrifying to go to a restaurant and eat because you’re scared someone’s going to take a photo of you.”

Is that more intrusive than a selfie? “I’ve been so lucky that fans have been taking photos of me eating since I was 15, so I’m a little bit numb to it,” he says, his tone rarely deviating from preternaturally calm. There’s probably an Instagram account called Shawn Mendes Eating, I joke (I check later and while there’s no account, there is a hashtag to follow). Can it feel as if he’s being watched? “I’m inherently [aware of] that all the time.” If it ever gets too much, he leaves rather than making a scene. Are you a people-pleaser, I ask? “Yeah, is that bad?” he smiles. “It can lead to failure, but if I fail trying to please everyone, then that’s OK.”

Mendes spends a lot of time contemplating people’s perceptions of him. Last year he publicly criticised a Rolling Stone cover story, expressing his regret that “the positive side of a story doesn’t always get fully told”. I assume it’s because the piece mentioned his penchant for smoking weed, a detail that had upset some fans. “That didn’t bother me,” he smiles. “Actually, I was happy about that because maybe it’s OK for them to understand that weed’s not a big deal.” He says he hasn’t smoked in three months.

Another part of the story focused on rumours about his sexuality. “For me it’s hurtful,” he says. “I get mad when people assume things about me because I imagine the people who don’t have the support system I have and how that must affect them.” (In late 2017 he posted an emotional Snapchat story: “First of all, I’m not gay. Second of all, it shouldn’t make a difference if I was or wasn’t.”) He sighs and says: “That was why I was so angry, and you can see I still get riled up, because I don’t think people understand that when you come at me about something that’s stupid you hurt so many other people. They might not be speaking, but they’re listening.”

He says the reason he criticised the article was over a small detail in which he mentioned Dua Lipa and her boyfriend, and how amazing it looked to be in love. “It made me seem so creepy,” he says. “If anything, the article made me realise your career isn’t over if people think you’re not perfect.” You could see how the creepy singleton tag might irk him, and also why it might stick – a lot of Mendes’s biggest singles play on the idea of him as the emotionally needy bloke who gets messed around and comes back for more.

Are you bored of being The Nice Guy? He splutters, clears his throat and sits bolt upright. “Yeah, I am! It sounds so stupid – to be a nice person is the best thing in the world – but, yeah, I’m 20 and I just want to have fun. What I don’t want to do is live the rest of my life thinking, ‘I wouldn’t do that because I’m known as Prince Charming.’ The second that someone corners you into a personality, you don’t want to be that person any more.”

Two weeks later, Mendes is onstage in Amsterdam. In keeping with the floral artwork for his recent self-titled album, a 50ft rose snakes up to the ceiling from the so-called B-stage where he’ll later serenade the throngs of teenage fans and nodding dads with a handful of ballads. Replica light-up roses (€20 a pop at the merch stand) bob about in the dark as Mendes runs through a hugely entertaining, PG-13 simulacrum of a rock show to ear-bleeding screams (“God I’m so old,” a woman sitting behind me yells as she surveys the crowd).

Keen to further align himself with the pantheon of rock’s smiliest exponents, tonight Mendes segues from a cover of Coldplay’s big-hearted anthem Fix You into his own, the Kings of Leon-esque In My Blood, a song that surprised fans by touching on depression. Tonight it’s transformed – with the help of a ticker tape explosion – into something close to catharsis.

“There’s nothing like being on stage – you feel like Superman!” he’d said earlier, claiming it to be better than sex or any high. “My goal now is to enjoy what I do more and more because otherwise it doesn’t fucking matter. I used to think it was all about the crowd, but I have to be happy within myself.” As he takes his millionth selfie, his face radiating pure elation, you believe he might be.

Shawn Mendes plays London O2 on 16, 17 and 19 April

Fashion editor Helen Seamons; grooming by Anna Thompson using Bobbi Brown and Monat; lighting by Michael Furlonger and Tilly Pearson; digital operator John Munro; fashion assistant Penny Chan; shot at 12th Knot, seacontainerslondon.com

#shawn mendes #shawn peter raul mendes #observer magazine #the observer

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sht-ccshippers-say · 5 years

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So since the tinhats have to follow each other with everything, kfs has followed Abby with their own essay response to the same anon ask. So time for another tinhat breakdown!

I was going to respond to an ask and reply found on @ajw720 blog (reblogged below), however, I thought I would do so as a post.

Both the ask and the reply are brilliant and state the facts as we CCer’s believe.

Just because CrissColfer shippers believe something does not make it a fact. A fact is something that is proven to be true. Nothing tinhats say can be proven. It is opinion and conjecture.

I found this transaction had a peacefulness to it which stimulated thought. To me this is what supporting D & C is all about. The words are sincere and non-inflammatory while stating personal opinion. This is how, in my view, asks and replies should be – sticking to the facts as we know it, while trying keeping emotion out of it.

When have tinhats ever kept emotion out of anything? If you were keeping emotion out of it, you would not be so angered by the mere presence of a woman who has never done anything to you.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I know keeping emotions out of things is hard. We are all human after all. The question is, how do express them? Negatively or positively?

I have been advised by several CCer’s to ignore what many call ‘hate”, but I prefer to call it negative emotion. These types of emotions are often meant to provoke or will provoke an equal response. To be perfectly honesty, there are many of our posts which, I believe, impact us CCer’s in an adverse fashion. In my opinion, these emotionally charged replies or independent posts makes us look bad.

“I prefer to call it negative emotion”....is this tinhat trying to gaslight their own fandom? Is this what is happening here?

And FYI, every single Tinhat/ CrissColfer post makes you all look bad. Because every single one stems from hate and is based in insults.

That said, I have to admit, I found what I call CCland through a nasty tweet from M directed at @ajw720.

Does anybody have any idea which tweet they might be referring to here? I haven’t heard this fabricated story from tinhats before. Seriously, Abby would be screaming about this 24/7, if Mia had tweeted her. Unless, of course, Mia was responding to something disgusting Abby had said. Also doesn't Abby constantly scream not to contact the “players” directly? This story here does not add up- like everything else in CC Fantasy land.

I do no know if @awj720 responded to that tweet, nor do I know what M was responding to (therefore you were making assumptions on something that you did not have all the information about) however, it captured my interest. Such word (M’s) tend to be defensive and defensive people usually have something to hide. <---- This here is exactly gaslighting.

I searched for @awj720 and what I found gave me reason to stop doubting what I thought about D’s sexuality and his love for C.

You found other people willing to validate your fantasies without any actual proof.

I have been involved long enough to see what is being said on the many sides of the CC discussion. Those who oppose us, call us ‘haters’ and we call them ‘haters’. They sprout nastiness and we sprout nastiness. Lately I have been considering my place in this fandom. A few weeks ago, I posted about ‘Hate’ and I found it disturbing how some in this fandom allow their ‘hate’ of one person or a group of people influenced their responses and posts. Hate is a negative emotion which consumes and blinds. As a Buddhist it is an emotion which clouds the minds to bigger and better things.

If you are so opposed to hate, then why do you engage with people and blogs who do nothing but hate?

We state we are here to support D & C. What is support?

But you are not actually supporting them in any way, unless we are talking financially when you purchase tickets, books etc. You are sustaining them in any way, or bolstering them or assisting them, because you are not a part of their life.

When I look at this list of words, I do not see negativity. I see positive. In my experience, I have found that negative emotion tends to breed two things: 1) usually negative emotion, 2) and, perhaps later, compassion. Positive emotion has a habit of breeding positive emotion. Anything that is negative can be made positive with careful thought and craftsmanship of words and deeds. It only takes one rash action to take something positive and make it negative. Reaction with emotion is easy but turning it into something positive can be difficult.

Let’s just add lots of words, when only a few would suffice, to make me sound like I know what I’m talking about.

Seriously, how long is this post?

Trashing a bar because of who owns it or ripping at what one person or photoshopping trashcans on someone’s face does not paint a good picture of us CCer’s. All these things galvanize those who oppose our point of view making them angry and replying in kind. I am going to be blunt–it is childish. However, we can take the high road and make something negative a positive. That takes calm thinking and careful play with words. The idea is not to respond or post kind but to use calm, thought provoking words.

So you are calling out your fandom, but I bet you are going to continue to reblog the people doing these thing, thus reinforcing their choice to be cruel and nasty. This makes you no better than them. Practice what you preach, tinhat.

Supporting D & C is not trashing those who control him but rather by looking at these words and using them to advocate, sustain, bolster, buoy, stand behind the two of them.

Yeah, again, you cannot actually do these things because you are not really there for them. Your platitudes are all for nothing.

I see us doing this by highlighting the fact D loves to sing. C loves to write. They both love to act and have each won awards. Yes, D goes to that bar to sing but he loves to sing. I believe he is there as part of a contract, but it is love of singing and his fans which keeps him from losing it.

You do realise that you are speaking negatively about Tramp Stamp Granny’s by implying Darren is forced to be there? I thought that you said people need to be positive, not negative?

Yes, there are things D (and perhaps C) must do for the sake of his contract and that is what is posted the most on SM. We do not see D or C out there enjoying themselves -It is only tinhats who never see these two enjoying themselves because your intense bias prevents you from doing so- (especially with each other- ummm, never with each other. Because they have nothing to do with each other.), or with friends unless it has been approved for release. (Well, we might if some passer by happens to capture it and post it.)

I have to remember that the media industry and the entertainment industry walk hand in hand, and they will not post or print things which hurt their brands. Thus, the common people see the PR story and they have to look elsewhere for the truth.

“Common people”. More gaslighting here. The common people, who are below those in CC Fantasy Land, right? Because anybody who does not subscribe to your version of the truth must be lower than you, right?

They find us, and then they see the negativity. Does that excite the or turn them off? I can’t speak to that, but we have to remember these things. We have to remember we CCer’s are part of the PR apparatus, even though we are volunteers and not backed by a massive industrial machine. We want to have the other side of the coin out there, but we have to play the game as well.

And now they bring in the tinhat inflated sense of self-importance trope. Believing that they actually play some kind of role in Darren and Chris’s life. You are not a part of the PR machine. You are a small fandom, sharing vile lies and insults. You are not playing any game. You are not making ant kind of difference.

To that end, the ask and reply I noted above, is an outstanding example of good PR from our point of view. It did not make me angry. It made me think. The result is this post.

When it comes down to it who is right, who is wrong. While I believe D is fighting to have a bigger say in his public life, he has an uphill battle on his hands. We must always remain aware that only those personally involved know the truth.

^^^^^^^^^^^^!!!!!!!!!!!! In this whole long ass post, there is literally one sentence that makes sense.

They have seen the contracts and know what must and must not be done. Until we see these contracts, or it all becomes public, all we have is our interpretations of pictures, videos, and comments on SM. None of his will stand up in a court of law. But wait? Didn’t you start this post by talking about the facts that CCers believe? Are you now saying that none of you have facts?

Then I have to think, what D & C, their REAL friends and families feel about what we post?

1. Real friends? You just said that only the people personally involved know the truth? You have no way of knowing who the real friends are etc.

2. THEY DO NOT CARE ABOUT WHAT YOU POST. THEY DO NOT SEE WHAT POST!!!!!!

Do they laugh or does he cringe because he fears the backlash? We have to remember that what we post has a ripple effect and we already suspect there have been repercussions.

There is no ripple effect and there have been no repercussions. You are not that important. Sorry.

I and others, have concerns matters will become worse as those who oppose our point of view dig in. Let those who oppose our views speak with negativity, because it only hurts them. Let us show them the other cheek and be crafty with our replies and posts. Again, this is a public forum and there are others, reading along or silently observing, who may or may not like the negativity. There are those who are watching our words for legal reasons such a lawyer from all sides. We must always be aware of repercussions.

Wait? What lawyers do you think are watching your words?

This does not mean we can’t state our opinions, but we need to do it carefully. If the end is truly on the horizon, we need to ensure we support D & C in a positive manner. A good PR team crafts the message with polish.

But when you state your opinions in a way that is cruel and insulting, that is a problem. And even if you don't say them directly yourself, when you are supporting those that do, you are validating them.

Now, to be clear, this post is a statement of my opinion and I know it may not be popular in some circles. However, I believe we be a positive force in support of our beliefs in D & C. If you feel your hackles going up, step back take a breath, have a tea and then go back to it. Craft your words well and with meaning. Do we always succeed in this, no. Am I innocent in curtailing my negative emotions? – HELL NO– Can I choose to change the way I respond to asks or posts – YES. Do I want to change – YES. I choose to do so because I think this is how we support D & C.

We have to remember, we are responsible only for ourselves, as individuals, because we have no control over what other individuals think or react.

Then stop putting yourselves in a position of responsibility over Darren, his team, Mia etc.

#this was all kinds of whoa #lol crisscolfer #crisscolfer #lol tinhats #tinhats #just love the sound of their own voice.

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cieloxcnco · 6 years

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una y otra vez - part 1 (richard)

parte uno

Words: 2,400+

Warnings: pretty much all smut and angst. modeled after a period of time with my on-and-off ex who everyone hates, so you might hate my fictional Richard after this..

A/N: so to keep up content, i’m editing some things i’ve already done to fit our boys. And no, I don’t think Richard is this much of a douchebag. *but* he *is* dominican, so I don’t doubt that charming little smile hides a lot. IN ANY EVENT - this is part 1 of a 4 part piece. I know this one starts a little slow but it gets a lot more involved later. Hope you like and stick with it!

Again.

Here I am again.

I sit up in the backseat of my car, craning my neck to see out the window to the street.

The streetlights are on, but it’s dark enough now to not be caught.

No movement of shadows yet.

I lie back.

He’s going to come. He’s coming. He’ll come.

I shouldn’t want him to come. I should have stayed away from him.

I have never known how to stay away from him.

I sit up on my elbows and peek again out the glass.

Still no shadows in the glow of the street-lamps.

He’s not coming.

Too long. Too, too long. Not just waiting in my car, hoping he’ll meet me. Too long living in our secret. Too long waiting for him at all.

His situation won’t change. His ways won’t change. He won’t change.

Buthewill.Hewillforyou.Onlyforyou.Ifyoulovehimenoughandgivehimtime,hewill.

Yes. Yes. He will. Maybe? No. Yes. He will. He said he will.

His hand belongs to someone else, and yet, when we are alone, I know the truth. or my truth. I know he is mine.

He knows I hate he is living away from me, that he spends his mornings waking up in the arms of someone else.

I bet you say that I don’t care, he had said between kisses on the fire escape last winter. I bet you say that I don’t even think of you, but God knows how wrong you are. So corny that it sounded like lyrics to a Backstreet Boys song. It had stuck in my head so much that I found out a week later that was exactly what the line was.

Those damn eyes. Those hypnotic eyes. They’ll make you believe anything.

TapTap against the rear windshield. I look up, startled.

Richard is smiling coyly down at me from outside. Those pearly white teeth have turned me to putty and he hasn’t even touched me. Yet.

I sit up and release the door handle to let him into the backseat.

He sits down on the rear cushions on the driver’s side. He’s not next to me but it’s already warmer.

Sorry, baby, he says. he always says. It took a while to get away.

I don’t want to think about what kept him. It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters. He’s here now. But I don’t say it. I just smile.

It doesn’t take long for it to turn into a frown. I have tried to fight the hollow pull in my chest.

He whispers, grabbing hold of my hand. Hey. What’s wrong?

I try not to chuckle dryly, my thoughts swirling. Everything.

I’m in love with you. You tell me you love me. You’re involved with someone else. We’ve loved in secret for years and I don’t want it to stay secret anymore. Why can’t I be on your arm like she is? What does she have that I don’t have? I feel like I have no value in your eyes. Do you just want to sweet-talk me to seduce me? Do you say ‘I love you’ just to get me to spread my legs? I wouldn’t be surprised, because it works. Why do I listen to you, knowing that you’re lying to me? But do you mean what you say or does it only get you what you want? do you know that every time you smile at me that my heart seizes up? If I tell you all this, would you slam the door behind you or just gently shut it as you walk away? Do you love me? Do you prove it? You ask me what’s wrong with this like you don’t know. What’s wrong with this? Everything’s wrong. Everything.

What is my only answer aloud? Nothing.

It’s stupid to lie. The only person it hurts is me.

No point in lying anyway. He can tell by the look on my face.

He kisses my knuckles in apology. Such a gentlemanly gesture for a man who is the opposite of a gentleman.

He runs his left hand through his hair, his silver wedding band glistening in the dim light. Baby girl, you know I love you. We’ll wind up together, I promise. We belong together.

His eyes make me believe every word. I try not to think too long about it so I don’t have the time realize he’s probably lying.

We both know all too well what his words do to me.

His mouth is on mine before I can think and his kiss feels like velvet on fire. smooth. powerful. inciting. enticing.

In just one movement, he consumes me he controls me. he possesses me.

He cradles the back of my head in his left palm and I melt at his touch.

I pause to breathe. Baby, I pant. I’m hesitating. I don’t know why I’m trying to stop. I don’t even want to. There was something I was going to say, but it seems pointless now. Just as pointless as stopping at all. I’m going to give in again in just a moment.

Listen, he soothes, It will be okay. I’m going to leave her. You know you mean more to me.

I smile and kiss his lips. I love you.

He smirks. So why don’t you get over here and suck it?

How romantic.

But his eyes sparkle and his smile darkens with lust and I want it. I don’t care that he’s taken. I don’t care that this is wrong. All that matters is he’s mine right now. Even if it’s only for this moment.

When I take him in my mouth, his left hand twists in my hair and his wedding band gets lost in the tangled tresses.

Baby. I love you. God, you’re amazing. That’s right- work your tongue like that.

And my name keeps falling from his lips. my name. not hers. my name. mine.

And I keep going so my name will be the only thing he will think of. Until he goes back inside to the after party and pretends to love her again. he’ll go back inside and be in front of the media and pretend to be happy honest faithful.

I’m too far gone to stop. I want more.

Too close to the edge to keep control, he pulls my mouth off of him with a pop.

You’re perfect, he whispers, shedding his jacket. My heart melts. Now take these pants off, beautiful. I want you.

No thoughts are left of him using tactics to get inside me. I just want more. His sex or his heart, I don’t care which. Aren’t they the same thing anyway? They are the same to me. Even if he doesn’t know it. Even if I deny it.

He’s still in his button-up shirt, his pants down just enough to be exposed. I’m in a t-shirt and denim shorts. I’m not in a cute cocktail dress for the party for the wrapping of his album.

I’m not prestigious enough for that. I’m not his wife. I’m his backseat fuck.

He pushes my shorts down my legs and folds me in half, both my knees against my right shoulder. I don’t know why I expected much foreplay. We never have much time.

You know how much I love you, right? he breathes against my lips before capturing them again. No. I don’t know. I sometimes don’t believe it. I sometimes try too hard to believe it. Sometimes I know I must be one of a hundred girls who he does this with.

But only now I believe it enough to answer. I love you, too. I don’t care if it makes me a fool.

And he’s pushed inside. GOD That’s perfect, us feeling as one. We must be meant for each other. He fits me like a puzzle piece.

I love you, baby, he grunts. I love you so much. He always loves me when we’re like this.

It takes me too long to realize that he is forgoing protection as usual. I don’t need a condom. The only protection I need is my heart to be shielded, some barrier to separate the physical act from the delusions of love in my mind. No Trojan can protect me from that.

Finally adjusted to our bodies connecting, he starts thrusting in  and out and  in and oh yeah, baby and  in  and  out and in and fuck, don’t stop I don’t think I’ve ever felt so much like an imploding star aglow, incandescent. about to shatter into millions of shimmering fragments. so close to the brink of destruction but ablaze with an unquenchable white heat.

It feels so good that I shut my eyes in pure rapture and even when I find the strength to open them, he’s not looking at me. He hovers above me, busy looking out the fogging windows to make sure we won’t be caught by anyone passing. He pushes into me until he’s buried to the hilt and groans deeply.

This is why women can’t have emotionally unattached sex. Men just seek the comforting physical feeling around them and they can find that anywhere. Women seek someone to fill them, complete them, and emotion can’t be absent from that.

I shake the thought. He doesn’t find that anywhere. He found me. He loves me. He wants to be with me. He loves me. He won’t spend forever living up to the vows he gave to her. He loves me.

You feel amazing, Richard huffs, his muscles tensing. So tight. So good, mami. He roughly and awkwardly palms my breast with his left hand. I throw my head back so I can’t see his wedding ring against my shirt. It’s not denial. It’s just not accepting the situation as everyone else sees it.

He’s repeating my name in every exhale now. He’s close. You want all of me, baby? That’s his favorite way to say it, asking me if I want him to climax while still in me.

Consequences should flood my senses. He’s married. He’s not mine. He can’t get me pregnant. He just gets off on the idea of me being at his mercy, taking all of him, cumming inside me. And I don’t fucking care. It feels too fucking good to care. I don’t realize I’m screaming, begging him to release in me. Common sense is lost.

He withdraws his body from me and I whimper at the new vacancy. I knew it wouldn’t last long. Open that pretty mouth, baby. I do. One Two Three spurts of his release onto my tongue.

No, I couldn’t risk that for you, he mutters, his breathing heavy. Well, how fucking considerate. Like it really matters at this stage of the game. I just smile and lick my lips. For what little time I get him to myself, I don’t want to fight.

I lie back on the seat cushion, limp and worn from activity. I know this was not about my pleasure. It’s his, always his and only sometimes ours. It doesn’t matter to me. I haven’t peaked, but ecstasy still courses through my veins. That is enough of a good feeling. I made him cum. I am happy that he is happy. And that’s it.

You have no idea, do you, he murmurs, our lips grazing. how much I love you?

My teeth are digging into my bottom lip. No, but I break myself for you. Is that love? I nod yes anyway. I wish I had the resolve to say it.

I know he has to leave. I know he has to go back inside, straighten his suit, wrap her in his arms like he is doing to me right now.

I know, he says as if he can read my mind. I hate leaving you, too. He doesn’t know. Not really. It’s a fraction of how much I’ll miss him.

He pulls a sample size bottle of his signature cologne out of his inside jacket pocket. He can’t smell like sweat and sex going back into the party, to be near her. He spritzes some on his neck and across the chest of his crisp white shirt. He always comes prepared to deceive.

I straighten my top and pull my shorts up. There’s a drop of semen on the collar of my shirt that won’t be easy to explain away.

I’ll talk to you later, okay? He just got here and already with the goodbyes. I nipped my teeth quickly against my tongue. Yeah, okay.

His eyes are sparkling. His wide smile is gleaming. His unkempt bleached blonde hair sweaty on his forehead a minute ago is still a mess but looks perfectly in place. I’m instantly molten, puddled at his feet.

So deceitful. So flawless. It is so typical for him to be so perfectly pieced together after this me to be so disheveled and broken.

I think I’ll be at another after-party Saturday, he hints. That means I’ll be parked behind a party venue Saturday night, waiting for him to fuck me like it’s some substitute for affection. Substitutes always pale in comparison to the real thing. like how egg substitute isn’t really egg, but it tastes enough like it for you to stomach. Right? He told me once she doesn’t cook him eggs for breakfast. She should. If she lives like it’s love, she has no idea the prize she’s won. Because he is a prize, right? He’s perfect, he’s all I want. He can’t be as imperfect as I am.

Don’t text me until I contact you first, he insists as he adjusts his silver necklace chain. A present from his wife.

I’ll let you know when it’s safe. He doesn’t need to say it. I know. It’s an unspoken prerequisite to our arrangement. If I go against this rule, he’ll be found out. God knows we don’t want that. It would fuck everything up. I would fuck everything up.

I care about him too much to destroy him like that. Guess he doesn’t have the same feeling about me.

But that’s forgotten again when he presses his mouth to mine. I’ll talk to you later. I know he will. This is all going to work out. I know it will. I love you so much, baby. I know he does.

And with a last daring kiss while he’s standing outside my car and leaning inside over me is he crazy? the overhead light is on- someone could see! go ahead, let them see the paparazzi! her! what if? they’ll find out soon enough. why prolong the inevitable? but how could you ruin him like that? it wouldn’t be only me. doesn’t it take two to tango? he steals me away again with just one whisper of a kiss against me and with the door’s quick click, he’s already gone and down the street.

and here I am alone.

again.

part 2 is now here

#richard camacho smut #cnco fanfiction #cnco imagine #cnco imagines #cnco fanfic #richard camacho

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shining--live · 6 years

Text

My Stance On Eiichi (and related discourse)

[WARNING: its long as hell]

Okay so right now (and ever since that Eiichi episode) the utapri fandom has a huge divide, and honestly? Well, idealistically, that divide wouldn't exist. But really, I'd be perfectly content if we could just tolerate each other, like can we at least do that? I think most of us want that. Yeah, I know, who am I to say this? I'm just one random asshole on the internet, I know I can't make a real difference, but y'know, whatever XD

So in my short absence I did spend time doing some things, watching the episodes, looking at defense and hate and analysis of Eiichi and such... And I got some asks, etc. But I don’t think my views have changed much...

I still personally feel like Eiichi wasn't supposed to become a villain. Really, I think the episode was ONLY meant to show the dark side of Otoya, so I blame the writers more than Eiichi for what happened. I still think that the scene where Eiichi and Otoya are singing together was the writers trying to say "They've made up. What Eiichi did isn't meant to be a permanent indicator of his personality, we just wanted drama for the finale." Of course, some people just take it as Eiichi not doing anything to make up for it, but really I think anger should be targeted at the writers, if anything. It's the writers that had Eiichi dig into Otoya's psyche, and break him. It's the writers that failed to make a proper conclusion to that conflict. If you believe it's being sweeped under the rug, it's the writers that did that. (But still I don’t promote like... harassing on twitter and such.) Personally, I have no idea what Eiichi as a character could do to make up for it, but what I do is just apply the Anime Logic™ that episodes never really have a long lasting effect unless shown or stated otherwise, which wasn’t, Eiichi and Otoya were getting along in the end, which makes me think it’s not supposed to have a long lasting effect on Otoya (or Eiichi) as a character.

But that's just me ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ and not everyone is like me.

I think that's the divide right there, between people who blame Eiichi for not apologizing, and people who blame the writers for not writing well.

Those who solely blame Eiichi for what happened seem to think that people who like Eiichi don't care about what he did, or think it's fine, or support him.

Those who blame the writers seem to think that people who hate Eiichi are just trying to control people's tastes, and say they're bad people.

Honestly this probably goes deeper than just Eiichi vs anti-Eiichi. This is like... A big divide in how we consume media. Many of us are like me and sit back, relax, and just apply Anime Logic™, but then many others like to look deep into it and find a good cause to fight for, or bring awareness to a social issue. Which, you know, is fine, society has issues and that must be talked about but...

When I say "Can we all fucking chill?" I mean it in multiple ways. Honestly, it is me kinda forcing my opinion that anime is just for fun on others but. I mean moreso can we just forget about our fucked up society for like five minutes? Anime IS meant to be fun... You don't have to constantly be fighting for a societal cause or anything, it seems exhausting, you know? I've always thought that it's in the interest of your mental health to put down the pitchforks and just ~relax~. Or "fucking chill" XD But really, I don't think I'll ever understand that mindset. Yet I can accept that it exists. Maybe it's that those people are stronger than me? They have the mental strength and determination to focus on an issue and say "I will combat everything about this, no matter how hard it gets." But not everyone is like that, either because they don't have the mental state, or just don't want to.

I mean... There are many reasons why people would like Eiichi. And no, it's not because they support abuse.

Sometimes it's because they've filled in their own ideas or headcanon. They take the scene where Otoya and Eiichi are singing together, apply Anime Logic™, asume that Eiichi made up for it in some way, and move on. They look at the good things that were shown about him. That he has determination, he's perceptive. That he's confident and isn't afraid to work and reach for what he wants. Or just that his appearance is nice, that his eyes are a pretty purple, or that he wears glasses. Or maybe they JUST LIKE HIS VOICE. The main idea is that these people just don't take the anime THAT seriously.

Or others like to analyze deeper... I've seen theories that it's implied that Raging Otori may be emotionally abusive to his sons (("you're losers" etc)). As far as I've seen, these people feel that Eiichi was able to see Otoya's suffering because they both wear a similar “mask”. Some think that he learned his behaviour from his father or experiences with him, and thought that he(Eiichi) could help Otoya because they are both hurting. They see Eiichi as a 3 dimensional character that royally fucked up. Sometimes also applying Anime Logic™ to that scene where they’re getting along, but it just depends on the person.

Then, some relate to him in some way (and this is kinda my way of looking at it.) Tying into Raging Otori's implied abuse, they relate because they develoed harmful coping mechanisms due to their own abuse, and imagine Eiichi learning and growing from this incident, like they may wish for themselves. Or regardless of theories, some may simply relate to his behaviour because they have hurt people in less extreme ways and tried to make up for it.

Honestly. When you waltz around and say shit like "Eiichi-apologists don't interact" it just FEELS like you're essentially plugging your ears and saying "anyone who disagrees with me is evil!" which just shuts down any conversation and breaks apart the fandom into factions, which is UNNECESSARY.

To me, it just feels like hating him and any other character is almost a waste of energy? When you hate on ANY CHARACTER, you inevitably add negative energy to the fandom. Either by upsetting people who like Eiichi, or reminding other people who hate Eiichi about their hatred. No matter how you look at it, it just seems to bring pain and negativity to everyone. ((If you want to talk about how what Eiichi did is wrong, that's different than just saying "Eiichi is irredeemable trash." I'm not talking about analysis and conversation, I'm just talking about plain old unbridled, unprovoked hatred.))

When you make the conscious choice to show affection for characters you like, it adds positive energy to the fandom. People who like the character are happy, you're happy, the only person who's unhappy is maybe someone who hates the character but like... You really can't please everyone? Idk... At least SOME people are happy in the second scenario...

I just think it doesn't hurt to be respectful. It doesn't hurt to understand that people who like Eiichi don't just go "yeah I love when he mentally breaks people." But it does hurt when you just assume things about people without knowing shit about them. It makes you look like an ass, and makes the assumed person think you’re an ass-it’s just an overall bad scenario.

Chances are, if you (politely) ask someone why they like Eiichi, they'll give a reason I gave, or even one I haven't mentioned or seen. And on the flip side, if you (politely) ask why someone doesn't like Eiichi, they'll give the reasons that everyone has been saying. We can have a conversation, we can come to agreements. Hell, we could do what the undertale fandom did to Sans and completely change his personality if we god damn wanted to XDD

No one side is right or "morally superior" This isn't an "us vs them" battle. We don't have to be at war, we are ALL fans of this stupid idol anime, so Can We All Fucking Chill?

I (And most people) will always agree that the writers should have done a better job. That Eiichi could have been handled MUCH better. We have Maji Love Kingdom coming out, so maybe the writers will have a flashback to the Eiichi/Otoya makeup? idk we’ll see. I’m pretty sure that heavens is gonna be in the movie so like.... We’ll wait and see, but no matter what happens in the movie I will never agree with comparing Eiichi fans to Eiichi's abusive behaviour, or just randomly attacking them.

Let people enjoy things.

Let people have fun.

Live and let live.

And "Can we all fucking chill?"

(Side note: I think I like Eiichi more now??? Like.. Out of all 18 he’s still in the bottom 10 but, he’s definitely in the top 4 of heavens now XD I don’t even want to like him this just kinda happened through reading shit about him.... smh...)

Also I’m a dumbass that doesn’t know all the fandom tags soooo. Sorry! XD

#uta no prince sama #utapri #otori eiichi #eiichi otori #jay space

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avahuang · 6 years

Text

Onzuiver: a play in one act

C: So say you are 18 years old and you meet this guy. And he’s good-looking—it doesn’t really matter, but it makes the story easier if the protagonist is good-looking. And you are too, but you’re insecure about it. And it’s your first summer in Boston, you’re interning, and he asks you out. And he takes you out for dessert on the second date, and you have sex with him, and yadayadayada. At first it’s all fine, maybe for a month or two it’s all fine. By “fine” I mean that you remain intact, critical, in fact a little bit detached. You’re along for the ride, but you haven’t been thrown into the water—you’re not immersed, you’re not drowning. And then you leave the city, and the two of you break up—rather, he breaks up with you over video call, he knows it’s not right, long-distance, whatever—and then it begins. The really interesting part. Because you feel something really remarkable, a kind of acute panic—you can’t bear to lose this guy. All of a sudden it becomes evident, the pain makes it evident, that you’re really quite attached, that you feel deep inside you somewhere between the sternum and your sixth left rib a kind of wild floundering. And you become convinced that this horrible agony can only be rectified by rectifying the external situation, i.e. the two of you must promptly get back together. You need to once again seal the envelope that has been ripped open. But he fights your efforts, and then you push back because you can’t accept the reality of a world without the person you’re now convinced you’re madly in love with, every single thing that is not him seems leached of life, totally incapable of holding your attention. I mean you read all the advice about being strong, no contact, respecting yourself and respecting your partner, really good advice, but it has no sway over you emotionally whatsoever, you’re so far from any anchor to sanity, calm, self-respect: for the very first time in your young life you are completely immersed. Completely at sea, all alone, and you know this isn’t a novel experience, people survive it, but the thing about the chemical insanity of youth is that everything feels so incredibly zoomed in and an experience like this—really being in love for the first time—swallows up your entire horizon like a giant crimson sun emitting incredible heat. Just imagine staring at a huge red sun that seems unbearably close to you—you can feel the uncomfortable warmth, you have the peeling burns on your skin—and all around people are telling you that it’s an insignificant thing, ignore it. And you wonder aren’t they flooded by the sunlight, can’t they feel that it hurts? But of course they can’t, the sun’s only there for you, and you feel isolated by this private phenomenon, you can’t really talk about it because you know there’s something shameful about the outrageousness of it, how divorced from reality you’ll sound. It’s like admitting that you think a novel with elements of magical realism is actually true, that you can live in a totally sane and functional world and then cats just come up and talk in human voices and giant suns descend and hover meters away from the ground. It’s madness. But that’s the funny truth of it—our emotional lives are madness, especially the first time we experience really significant events. Everything’s so wildly distorted and things that have very little impact on your life objectively have a massive impact internally. And because they have a massive impact internally they begin to change your real, external life in significant ways. Believing in that giant red sun actually alters how you act.

(Silence)

C: So for a long time you’re just trying to get this guy to love you. There are all these things that happen—you graduate, and you get a new job, and you move back to Boston—but these are not really things that matter to you at the time. There’s a part of you that acknowledges that they are new and profound, but the central fact of your existence, sad as it is to say, has become this guy. And remember, you’re still super isolated by this, because there is an objective world in which you are a high-functioning young woman, care about your career, care about your friends, are even-keeled and self-confident and cheerful, and it’s shameful to admit that you have a private obsession that’s totally consumed you. And the thing is that because this guy’s a little bit older than you and he’s been through the wringer already with someone else, had his heart masticated and spat out on the ground a couple of times already, and through unimpaired eyes understands that the two of you really are a bad match, he likes for your good qualities—you’re attractive, smart, fun to be around—but the phenomenon that you’re experiencing, this mad love which seems in the moment like the first real thing you’ve maybe ever felt, is totally one-sided. And he can tell something really serious and strange is going on with you, that you’re obsessed with him, and he’s bemused and a little repulsed by it. And he’s trying to be decent, but it’s confusing because you’re totally incapable of having an emotionally honest conversation with him--I mean, think about it, you can’t go to the guy you’re desperately trying to win over and say, you’re this giant red sun in my life and I think your heat is kind of frying me to death--so he can only observe from outside symptoms what’s going on, a good deal of it you’ve managed to internalize and isolate from everyone else, and you’re telling him all these totally bullshit things, trying to sound reasonable--I want to be with you, it’s okay if we keep things casual, it’s fine if we’re not a long-term match--and he really does like you some of the time, and of course it’s flattering to be the focus of such intense, seemingly irrational attention, it would make anyone feel special and powerful--so he keeps wavering between what he knows he observes in the objective external world and the pull of you--your urgency--and things continue like this for a while, time passes.

(Silence)

C: And then the really bad thing happens, which is that through sheer force of will and pure relentlessness you manage to convince him that dating you is maybe not a terrible idea and the two of you get back together. Yes, really. [looks at audience] And the thing is of course that no one explodes or dies, it’s all relatively anti-climatic after all this time, all this longing. The two of you aren’t really that compatible with each other, he was right from the beginning, in fact he’s kind of a shitty partner--hypercritical, hypocritical, jealous, emotionally unstable, just as he warned you. But because you’re so invested at this point and he kind of is too--after so much time and pain you both just want things to be stable for a while--you go on dates and have sex and message each other cute emoticons, the normal stuff, and you’re too needy and he’s too absent, and then after a couple of months you realize that you’re actually, uh, not really happy. You have what you want, this beloved person, this glowing ball of sun, and in fact most of the time it just feels kind of lackluster, kind of wrong. And of course there are really tender moments, transcendent wonderful moments, because there’s some inherent compatibility and quite a lot of attraction and he cares about you after having known you so long, it’s just the mere exposure effect, and so there are bright spots, glints of the light on the dark pond. But you begin to understand what’s actually been going on all this time, which is that you’ve actually been madly in love with a narrative layer on top of the real person, some idealized person who looks like your actual boyfriend, has the same blond hair, same crooked nose, and you’ve wedded all these fantasies to them, believed they are the answer to the mundane parts of your life, your dissatisfaction, thought they would elevate your life, save you from your uncertainty about your job and all your insecurities about yourself and your desire to find purpose, find meaning, be capable of one single independent thought separate from all the ingrained values that’ve been fed to you by your parents and society and all the capitalist institutions around you and all the mid-brow whitebread media you consume. But of course this idealized person doesn’t exist, godfuckingdamnit, you’re in love with someone who doesn’t exist and never will, and instead you’re stuck dating someone who you have all these confused feelings for because he’s become inextricably intertwined with the person in your head, you’ve been interacting with him believing that he’s this person all the time, and now turns out he isn’t, he’s just some 25-year-old who has good qualities and bad qualities like anyone else, and you see that it’s not going to work, I mean he’s not going to fall madly in love with you, and you guys could continue maintaining this thoroughly mediocre equilibrium, this relationship where neither person is miserable but both are kind of vaguely dissatisfied, but why bother? So the plot culminates in the only way it can, in a breakup, and you cry for a bit while listening to an Adele song and then you chug on with your life. And it takes a while to really be able to process and understand this experience, to articulate all of these things to yourself in a coherent way. For a long time you’re really ashamed of it, and then you realize how common it is, that in fact it’s just a kind of side effect of being that age the same way weight gain is a side effect of Lexapro: being swallowed up by your emotions and interacting with an idealized version of someone instead of trying to really understand who they actually are. So it felt in the moment Capital-S Shattering but now that you can zoom out you realize that it’s actually quite normal, and in fact some people never grow out of it. And then you’re hit with the final heartwrenching revelation, which is that now that you have sort of reprogrammed yourself into a healthy mature adult and you’re aware that you should never idealize your partners and probably never will again, you’re thoroughly insulated from that all-consuming madness, the heady temperature and magic. It was purely a production put on by your teenage hormones and that glorious feeling, which made every tiny thing seem so significant, which could alter time in ways that were beyond language, is not going to be repeated. You could date every incredibly cool person in the world (and for a period of time after the breakup you make a real go at exactly that), but you’re never going to feel the same way again because it was just an internal thing, a reflection of your emotional and mental state at the time, and you can’t replicate it. Tragic but true: adulthood cannot be undone. And so all that energy you put into the guy and into trying to win his love can’t just go into another partner, at least not right away. You consider the possibility that real adult love could be (well, more subtle hopefully) just as significant, but decide you’re probably not ready for it. And then you realize that all the care and thought and time--all that momentous effort--has to go into yourself, into the person who generated all of those feelings in the first place. You have to redirect your focus into your own life and address the emptiness and dissatisfaction that made you susceptible to this whole madness in the first place. It’s not a good revelation, it’s like looking for keys frantically all over the house and realizing two hours and one locksmith later that they were in your front left pocket--like what a waste, couldn’t I have just been a little less stupid in the first place? But all of us start out kind of dumb I guess, and all you can hope for is that every iteration of yourself is a slightly better iteration. That’s all we’re ever given.

(Silence)

#writing

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overbreakup · 4 years

Text

Breakup? Stop. Read These Top 5 Must Do’s.

Breakups are hard and stressful and it can feel like watching a building that had taken much time or many years of devotion and sacrifice to construct fall apart in slow motion within minutes. Nothing left to show but rubble and dust. In today’s society with the ‘grass is always greener’ mentality relationship breakups have become painfully common place for many of us.

Someone once told me that we never understand happiness until we have felt sadness, peace until we are faced with a struggle, trust until we are betrayed, hope until we know doubt. The truth is we go through all these emotions and more when living through a breakup. So what are the things you must do immediately in the first five days to give yourself the best chance of getting over your breakup?

1) Write a Letter to Your Ex

Now don’t get excited or worried or even anxious, remember you will NOT be sending this letter. I repeat, you will not be sending this letter. This exercise is designed to allow you the space and time to honestly get in touch with your inner most feelings, emotions and thoughts. So what should you write?

How are you feeling right now, in this moment?

What are you worried about?

Do you have any regrets, if so why?

What are your thoughts about the future, about your future?

Be very clear, write from your heart honestly and openly and get in touch with your inner most feelings, no one is judging you. Keep in mind you don’t have to be vindictive or mean as this will be counterproductive for your own well being.

2) Grieve

Yes grieve. There is nothing to gain mentally or emotionally in pretending you are not affected or hurt by the breakup (and if you are genuinely not affected then give yourself a pat on the back) but for many of us it doesn’t work like that. You are not a robot, you are a human being and this is a natural process human beings experience in face of loss or suffering.

Give yourself the luxury to grieve, whatever that means to you. If you need to cry, cry. If you need to take some time out from everyone, do that. I remember with my breakups I needed to go through it on my own, alone, in my space, in my way. I cried when suffering consumed me, disappeared into my heart’s darkness for as long as I chose. I had to accept the process and take responsibility for who I had become.

However, and this is a very important however, grieve to release the sorrow from your system but if the grieving continues for too long or indefinitely its going to become a habit, a habit that can disable you from getting up again for a very long time. It has been said if you do something continuously for more than 21 days it becomes a habit. Grieving in not a habit you want to create. In short, don’t drag it on.

3) Delete and Detox

This is one of the most crucial steps in helping you move on from your breakup and it also may be one of the hardest. Delete, delete, delete. So what do I mean by that?

Social media, delete your ex from ALL your social media accounts. I don’t mean just unfollow, or hide or block, I mean delete. Yes this maybe very difficult for you. What if they contact you via social media, what if they like your post, what if, what if, what if? Ignore the what if’s for now and do this for yourself. The sooner you cut all contact or any possibility of getting any information on them during this critical breakup period, the better it will be for you mentally and emotionally in the long run. Also delete his number from your phone, unthinkable maybe, but on this journey drastic measures are required to ensure you triumph above all. Go on you can do it.

4) Clean Out the Clutter

In order to move forward it is necessary to clean out all the clutter. By clutter I mean anything in your home that reminds you of your ex. Furniture, photos, special things that take you down memory lane or anything for that matter that may cause you to move two steps backwards instead of forward.

Take your time and go through everything, it might be painful right now but it better now than in the future. Put it away, throw it away, give it away, whatever you do just take that first step. If it helps rearrange your furniture or decor, do what you need to do to alter your environment in order to get over your ex.

Remember you cannot walk through a dark forest that has tangling vines ever inch of the way, you are bound to get caught in them at some point.

5) Write Your Feelings Down

Get yourself a journal, the physical act of putting pen to paper has shown to have enormous emotional and mental benefits. Each day try and write down how you feel. You can do this at the end of the day, at the beginning of the day or when you feel you are really struggling. Express your feelings, put them in your journal, get it out of your system.

The faster you release your negative emotions, worries or anxiety by journalising them the faster you can move forward with your day, better handling it, better managing it.

Remember, your happiness is the number one priority, full stop. So go ahead and take the necessary steps to help yourself. I know you can do it. You know, you can do it!

"You are a flower ready to bloom. Wake up! Do not let time pass you in vain." Mona Vayda

Visit my Breakup Blog

#breakups #breakup #breakup advice #heartbreak #relationship #inspiration

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delilahswritings-blog · 4 years

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All About Love by Bell Hooks

What is love anyway? Is it some sort of infatuation feeling of an opposite person or an attraction of HOW someone may make you feel when you are around them? The definition of love is an intense feeling of deep affection or a great interest and pleasure in something else. Some of us (definitely in the black household upbringing) have been in situations where “tough love” was displayed as a sort of affection. You’ve probably heard “Hurting you hurts me” or “I whoop you because I love you” which is really utter bs because if hurting me hurts you then why are you hurting yourself? Bell Hooks says, “To truly love, we must learn to mix various ingredients-care, affection, recognition, respect, and communication.” Hooks describes love not only in sense of fondness of romantic, but she describes love in all aspects such as political, spirituality, mutuality, community, and etc.

At the beginning of her renowned best seller, Hooks mentions clarity. Clarity is just another form of transparency. “Love is as love does. Love is an act of will—namely, both an intention and an action. Will also implies choice. We do not have to love. We choose to love.” In order to truly give love, you have to be as open to it as possible. But some people give love with an armor of defensiveness up to not only protect their energy but to make sure that they aren’t the first ones to get hurt. Trust and believe everyone gets hurt and does the hurting. “Everywhere we are learning that love is important, and yet are bombarded by its failures.” Does every failure of love dig us into a deeper hole of lovelessness, or therefore, the lack of desiring to love anymore? She insinuates “Men theorize about love, but women are more often love’s practitioners” meaning more so majority of men are born to think of capitalism, whereas the women are supposed to think more domestically. Can men not be practitioners of love as well as being in capitalism?

Our childhood plays a huge part in how we grow up to love as well. She brings to our attention that “many men never recover from childhood unkindness. Studies shows that males and females who are violently humiliated and abused repeatedly, with no caring intervention, are likely to be dysfunctional and will be predisposed to abuse others violently.” which in cause results in toxic relationships and friendships. “many men confess that they lie because they can ger away with it; their lives are forgiven. To understand why male lying is more accepted in our lives we have to understand the way in which power and privilege are accorded men simply because they are males within a patriarchal culture.

Men tend to be taught from an early age that “they should not cry or express hurt, feelings of loneliness, or pain, that they must be tough, they are learning how to mask true feelings. Even boys raised in the most progressive, loving households, where parents encourage them to express emotions, learn a different understanding about masculinity and feelings on the playground, in the classroom, playing sports, or watching television.” Now this isn’t a “male bashing” segment where I point out all the flaws of the male species because some women tend to be emotionally unavailable as well but how many times have you came across a man that was just simply not ready and more so focused on providing longevity for his family? 3 out of every 4 guys that you meet right? Now this is where things get interesting. Hooks says “Early on in the feminist movement, women insisted that men had the upper hand, because they usually controlled the finances. Now, even the wealthiest professional woman can be “brought down” by being in the relationship where she longs to be loved and is consistently lied to. To the degree that she trusts her male companion, lying and other forms of betrayal will most likely shatter her self-confidence and self-esteem” meaning that once she feels as though transparency is one-sided in the relationship, she tends to be hard on herself and thinking that maybe she is the one to blame for his actions when really…..it’s just how he grew up and how he’s programmed.

Hooks also speaks on love from a friendship aspect. Let’s be completely honest. A lot of us females don’t truly know how to be friends. Not saying this in a bad way but this is me saying……OWN UP TO YOUR SHIT! We tend to be so heinous towards each other and when someone tends to point out the flaw in said relationship, that’s when the shatter begins. A healthy relationship or friendship has accountability and healthy communication skills which some of us tend to lack. Does that make you any less of a person? Absolutely not but it does signify that you might have some shitty ways and possibly need to work on them.

In this modern day and age, a lot of people have become succumb to spirituality vs a specific religion. Yes, some of us may believe in higher being (Christ, Allah, Jesus, etc.) but we’re not forcing ourselves to be stuck to just one religion. Hooks speaks on the divine spirit and “religious fundamentalism is often represented as authentic spiritual practice and given a level of mass media exposure that countercultural religious thought and practice never receive.” Love is something that is felt from the spirit. “Spirituality and spiritual life give us the strength to love. It is rare for individuals to choose a life in the spirit, one that honors the sacred dimensions of everyday life when they have had no contact with traditional religious thought or practice.” Hooks speaks about love in a spiritual sense, sort of like in a Christ like manner. We all tend to be Christ-like at the end of the day, but even He became angry in some sort of fashion. It’s okay to be angry but don’t let it consume you to the point where you walk around with a chip on your shoulder.

We are own worst critics. Especially with social media being so prominent, the world tends to compare to physical, social status, financial freedom, and overall lifestyle living. “Self-acceptance is hard for many of us. There is a voice that is constantly judging, first ourselves and then others.” We don’t tend to be accepting of ourselves because we’re so worried about what someone else is doing or what we may have heard from someone else. “The more we accept ourselves, the better prepared we are to take responsibility in all areas of our lives. Taking responsibility does not mean that we deny the reality of institutionalized injustice. Taking responsibility means that in the face of barriers we still have the capacity to invent our lives, to shape our destinies in ways that maximize our well-being.” She says that self-love is the foundation of our loving practice. In order to love out loud and give others love, we must first learn to love ourselves.

There’s so much information to dissect from this book that honestly, this article would be 10 pages long, but I think I’ve covered the basics. It’s okay to love because we would want somebody to show us love as well but also remember that love has boundaries. Healthy boundaries to the point that we cannot be drained when we do decide to give love. Love is neither rushed or easy especially unconditional love. Most of us are hurting to the point where we can’t even trust anyone to love and feel as though everybody is out to get us. The more you retract your energy from certain people and certain crowds, the more you tend to become more powerful in your own self-love. Love yourself as you would love your neighbors.

#AllAboutLove BellHooks

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argentconflagration · 7 years

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wondergirrl said:

what is this about. anti what?? am confused please aid me VonBond

This is pretty long and I apologize, but I feel like I need to go all the way back and talk about TERFs, for reasons that will hopefully soon be clear.

As I'm sure you know, TERF stands for 'Trans Exclusionary Radical Feminist'. There are still TERF communities within feminism, but generally speaking, TERFs are far less numerous and their ideology has far less sway than it used to have. Part of the reason for this was people going out of their way to proactively explain why TERF arguments are wrong before their fellow feminists encountered TERFs, which made it a lot harder for TERFs to spread their ideology.

Which is great! But I think that for the most part, feminists have argued against the transmisogynistic aspects of radical feminism, and to a lesser extent the sex-worker-exclusionary aspects of radical feminism (SWERFs), but kind of failed to see the coherent whole that TERF-flavored feminism belongs to, what sort of thinking causes it, and why it's wrong. "Being anti-TERF" nowadays has largely been reduced to stuff like putting "no TERFs!" in blog descriptions and popular posts, and it rarely takes the form of scrutinizing TERF logic to understand how they went wrong and how we can avoid making similar mistakes against other people. Which is why I'm writing this now.

(I've tried very hard to articulate what I think are two distinct flaws in thinking that seem to me to give rise to just about every TERF position, but I do feel like I'm not quite right on the money, so if anyone has better ways to say these two things, I'm all ears.) In general, TERF positions are the result of 1) rigid, black-and-white, binary thinking and 2) ignoring people's consent, especially their 'yes'es. Take transmisogyny: they believe that trans women are men and therefore oppressors. Now, this belief is readily debunked by observing the world, but TERFs have divided the world strongly into oppressors and oppressed, and have a lot of rhetorical tools to dismiss and ignore anything said by "oppressors" or that seems to favor "oppressors". And because trans women are "oppressors", they justify violence and harassment that ordinarily common sense would never condone.

A lot of other central TERF positions have to do with ignoring people's 'yes'es. Sex workers say, "No, this line of work isn't without its problems, but I want to be empowered to address those problems, not kicked out of my livelihood." AFAB trans people say, "I'm not a woman, I'm another gender, and I want to transition." Subs (in BDSM) say, "I enjoy being submissive." Heterosexual and bisexual women say, "I want to date and/or sleep with men." And TERFs' response to all these people is, "That's just your internalized misogyny talking." (And when these people fail to stop wanting the thing they want, TERFs decide that they've taken the side of misogyny and are now valid targets for harassment.) TERFs don't pay attention to people's stated wishes and what they actually are or aren't consenting to. Instead, they decide what women must want, or what wishes would best further the cause of feminism, according to their views of feminism and patriarchy.

Which brings me, finally, to antis. Antis come from two main sources, and one is the anti-kink/anti-BDSM/anti-porn aspect of TERF-style feminism. The other is, as ridiculous as it sounds, ship wars. Ship wars have existed since the beginning of fiction, of course, and what's going on right now is that some people in fandom harass others using the intellectual framework laid out by anti-kink/anti-BDSM/anti-porn radfems. The targets are usually people who ship things (or create/consume other content) that's dark or unrealistic. (E.g. if you ship an abuser with his victim, that content is either going to be dark, if they have an unhealthy relationship, or unrealistic, if they have a healthy relationship. This also often includes non-ship-related dark content like characters getting killed.) The harassers believe themselves to be morally superior to their targets, based on the justification that "no one could really enjoy this content unless they were either enacting oppression or internalizing oppression".

This is particularly obvious when they talk about survivors of abuse and trauma. As you might know from debunkings of the "violent video games" moral panic, dark themes in media tend to be a way for people to emotionally process horrible things that happen in real life. There are lots of ways this plays out, according to the specific needs of the individual, but to speak from my own experience, taking things that were inflicted on me nonconsensually and fictionalizing them -- bringing them into a context where I have complete control -- is really important to healing and growing past that experience. Now, everyone, no matter their specific experiences, has fears that they might choose to process through fiction, but survivors of abuse and trauma are necessarily people who have experienced some of the worse things the world has to offer. Antis' response to this is the same as TERFs' response to people who want or need things that are politically inconvenient for them: "That's just internalized oppression." "That's an unhealthy coping mechanism." "You're taking the side of oppression, so it's okay to harass you."

Antis tend to have other beliefs that are inherited from radical feminism. For example, like TERFs, they tend to conceptualize heterosexism as "homophobia, which also hurts bisexual people because they're attracted to the same gender" rather than "heterosexism hurts people of non-heterosexual orientations in a variety of different ways". As such, they tend towards aphobia, biphobia, and nbphobia. Many of them are aphobes/exclusionists, and they tend to support a short list of acceptable non-straight identities (e.g. "LGBT") rather than accepting categories that are loose or flexible like "queer", "LGBT+", "QUILTBAG", etc. I've also found that, even when acknowledging NBs, they tend toward rhetoric that puts people into two categories based on their gender, like "men vs women/NBs" or "women/transfeminine people vs men/transmasculine people". Again, they have very binary thinking, and disregard people's stated wishes not to be put on one side of a gender binary.

They also have a particular way of talking that leans toward bullying and ideological abuse. They tend to interact with anti-antis even when they're not in a place to do so in a non-harmful way, and tell people who disagree with them to go kill themselves ("drink bleach", "jump in a fire", etc.). They tend to overuse words like "gross", "nasty", "scum", "garbage", etc. that provoke a disgust response, and generally exaggerate wildly ("literally advocating for child abuse", that kind of thing). There's a distinct lack of emphasis on anything that could potentially break the grip of black-and-white thinking, such as recognizing gradations of harm, or weighing the harm of something against the benefit it has.

I don’t want to go overboard and replicate the exact same patterns by implying that “calling something you don’t like ‘garbage’ is supporting ideological abuse” or anything like that. At the same time, I'm pretty sensitive to all this stuff, and pick up on it easily, even when I would rather ignore it. I can't stand to see people harassed for something as trivial as their taste in fanfic, and I also tend to be particularly vulnerable to ideologically abusive rhetoric because of some of the stuff I've gone through. An easy way to avoid interacting with people who harass others for their dark fic (or who support that framework of moral inferiority) would be to hang out with people who create and consume dark fic. But I actually find most of that content stomach-turning, so I wouldn't want to hang out around people who are posting it and talking about it all the time.

tl;dr: To avoid “TERFs minus (most of the) transphobia”, I might try hanging out with people who like fucked up fic, but I don’t want to do that because it would be unpleasant.

#bolding is to hopefully make it a little more readable #sorry for wall of text but i think this is important #i'm open to feedback on this #sj

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laplaticona-blog · 4 years

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One and Out

I would like to think that as social work candidates, we are constantly learning from our mistakes. We are humans, after all. Yet, I cannot ignore certain candidate’s behaviors throughout my first year of graduate school (Note: being a non-white Latinx does not excuse my internalized, implicit biases). My first encounter of ‘are y’all in the right field?’ occurred during a mandated student orientation. I overheard a cisgender, white male, complaining about reading White Fragility by Robin DiAngelo. I did a double-take–– did he really say that? Then, the person stated reading the novel was a waste of their time. Again–– huh? It wasn’t until few weeks later that other students overheard the same comments from that person and other white folxs. Halfway through the semester, my school hosted a panel of predominately black trans and non-binary folxs from West Philadelphia. Awesome, cool! Again, I must highlight that my experiences and identities do not excuse my internalized and implicit biases. Even though I am queer, I am straight cisgender-passing and benefit from straight/cisgender privileges.

I looked forward to attending the panel as I was familiar with a speaker (if you see this, hello!!). The purpose of this panel was educate students about respectful engagement in their work with trans and non-binary clients. Not only were the speakers captivating, but did not sugarcoat the realities of black trans and non-binary folx’s realities. The following week, my instructor for Human Behavior In The Social Environment course provided a space for students to reflect on the panel. I was immediately dismayed (and slightly angry) towards white student’s responses about the speakers. One student didn’t believe white women should have to step aside to provide spaces for black trans folxs (when it comes to administrative positions). Another student felt guilty about being white, and a student (maybe two) stated these speakers should have presented more professionally. Thankfully, a white student called these folxs out on the dangers of respectable politics. Still, I couldn’t help but wonder, ‘are these white folxs really believing this?’ Did they really police the panelist’s presentations?

There were other examples throughout the year that highlighted the white fragility in my program, but my favorite had to been from a few weeks ago. Back story: first-year MSW students spent the second semester of the program learning about community organization. A student expressed the hardship of institutional change (resulting from online petitions circulating around the Penn community). Granted, institutional change is time-consuming and difficult. Yet, it is still possible to instill changes within an institution, like Penn (see: Yale College Adopts Universal Pass/Fail Grading Policy, Yale 2020). I criticized the student on my social media account due to lack of consideration. A few weeks later, I channeled my frustration towards the students and their friends by sharing a tweet (that retrospectively, was naïve and uncalled for). Still, the students expressed disbelief and anger–– they felt cyberbullied over my views. One student told me “learn to work with the other Beckys of the world,” and criticized my integrity as a social work candidate. Yes, the same person claiming that #BlackLivesMatter, while intentionally hurting other non-white folx in the social work community. White women irk me.

The thing is, white women still irk me, but not for that particular reason (think of the ‘Men Aint Shit’ movement). There have been other instances throughout my first year that white women occupied predominately black spaces, asserted their white-washed views onto their classmates, and made it clear that they would not allow black folxs to take charge when necessary. The white folx’s sentiments echoed the initial foundation of social work–– claiming progressive actions while hurting black and brown* folxs. I do not just mean systematically, but emotionally. Are y’all in the right field?

This is a deeply rooted issue–– social work has been primarily a white woman’s self-serving charitable notion. Jane Addams, the founder of social work, moved into a low-income class neighborhood to combat poverty. Yet, simultaneously, Addams was reluctant to work with low-income, black folxs, and believed their roles were to serve as stay-at-home mothers. Furthermore, Addams drew other white women to help, similarly to a savior action. In other words, white women have historically done more damage than help people. The cycle continues in society, especially in social work settings. Like, right now. But that’s why I am in the field among another amazing non-white folxs.

Despite the emotionally taxing moments, this program introduced some of the most amazing people I have ever met. During orientation, I met a group of brown and black social work candidates. Some of these students already had additional Ivy League degrees, others were scholars, and many already had strong social work background experiences. Some of these students were in my classes, and always contributed insightful and necessary thoughts/ideas. Even though I am not in touch with said students (to my fault, honestly), I will always admire their resilience in this field. Also, major shout out to the student-parents in the program! I also met my dear friends (I at least consider them as dear) like Megan F., Stephanie S., Theresa B., Kelli S., Julia, Paula, Sally, and many others.

Outside of my graduate program, I met my best friends–– Bri, Amarachi, Yoonhee, and others. It was important to expand my circle, especially in a field that requires a lot from one. Bri was a fresh air of a person and was always transparent about ‘things.’ I moved into my second home, Stouffer College House, super unexpectedly, but still one of the highlights of my first-year at Penn. Within Stouffer, I learned about a new community–– first-generation and/or low-income students. I mean, I kind of had one at UConn, but I wasn’t part SS nor that involved with PRLACC by senior year (shout out to the Women’s Center, though. Y’all are the real ones!). I genuinely felt I was understood by peers that were from undergrad and graduate level. Also, the FGLI queer students made me feel MORE SEEN. *cues tears* And, uh, these institutional opportunities like obtaining a certification through another school? WOO HOO!

A year from now, I am sure I will be stronger than this, and perhaps other folxs will know if they are in the right field. For now, one and out.

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lati-will · 7 years

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Spiritual Bypassing — We Need to Hurt in Order to Heal

Ten years ago, when I quit my job in the hospital, I had just been through a series of traumas and I was hurting so badly I didn’t know how to cope. That’s part of why I quit my job — because I was in and out of feeling suicidal and I just wanted to stop hurting. So many of the people I knew were obviously hurting too, but they were trying to cover it up with addictions, overworking, dissociating, and defense mechanisms like denial. I didn’t want to numb or otherwise avoid the painful feelings I was having, but it felt like feeling my pain was going to be a full-time job for a while. My grief was so consuming, and I had stuffed down a decade of past grief alongside it, that I was afraid I’d be flooded if I allowed myself to feel the torrent of grief I could sense was running like a current of rapids under my barely dressed up heart.

Like many do, I turned to the spiritual path to help me cope, experimenting with retreats at Esalen, walking the labyrinth at Grace Cathedral, pilgrimages to sacred sites, shamanic drumming, guided meditation, silent meditation retreats, yoga, prayer, indigenous spirituality, self-help books, spirituality conferences, cacao ceremonies, ecstatic dance, despacho ceremonies, and pretty much every other “spirituality-du-jour” experience one could have without trying drugs or plant medicines. I became a spiritual tourist, bliss-hunting for the next spiritual high…

Until I realized I had just found another way to bypass my pain.

I was using spirituality to avoid feeling not just my own personal pain, but the global pain I could feel in my own heart and body. (Fellow empaths, you know what I’m talking about here.)

That’s when I started studying the shadow of spirituality and learned about spiritual bypassing. In its essence, spiritual bypassing refers to any way in which we use our spirituality to bypass painful emotions, like despair, anger, disappointment, jealousy, or loneliness. Robert Masters, author of Spiritual Bypassing: When Spirituality Disconnects Us from What Really Matters, writes:

“We tend not to have very much tolerance, both personally and collectively, for facing, entering, and working through our pain, strongly preferring pain numbing ‘solutions,’ regardless of how much suffering such ‘remedies’ may catalyze. Because this preference has so deeply and thoroughly infiltrated our culture that it has become all but normalized, spiritual bypassing fits almost seamlessly into our collective habit of turning away from what is painful, as a kind of higher analgesic with seemingly minimal side effects. It is a spiritualized strategy not only for avoiding pain but also for legitimizing such avoidance, in ways ranging from the blatantly obvious to the extremely subtle. Spiritual bypassing is a very persistent shadow of spirituality, manifesting in many ways, often without being acknowledged as such. Aspects of spiritual bypassing include exaggerated detachment, emotional numbing and repression, overemphasis on the positive, anger-phobia, blind or overly tolerant compassion, weak or too porous boundaries, lopsided development (cognitive intelligence often being far ahead of emotional and moral intelligence), debilitating judgment about one’s negativity or shadow elements, devaluation of the personal relative to the spiritual, and delusions of having arrived at a higher level of being.”

We have to remember that it hurts to be human, and pain is always here for a reason. Pain is usually our body’s or our heart’s way of saying, “Pay attention. Something is out of whack and needs to be healed.” When we use avoidance in holy drag to avoid pain, we limit the growth our souls crave.

The Hot Loneliness

In a recent Super Soul Session, Glennon Doyle Melton spoke about all the ways we try to avoid feeling what she calls “the hot loneliness,” including scrolling mindlessly through social media or popping pills. Just think of all the ways that our culture teaches us to grab for Easy buttons, the quick fixes and self-help tools and antidepressants and booze and social media obsessions and all the other things marketers target into our psyches to promise that there’s an Easy way out of pain.

In spiritual circles, the Easy buttons cloak themselves in spiritual garb. The Easy buttons come in the form of hours of meditation spent inhabiting non-dual awareness or ayahuasca ceremonies every weekend or attending one spiritual retreat after another seeking the next tool to avoid feeling the hot loneliness.

Glennon says:

“The problem is that when we transport ourselves out of our hot loneliness, we miss all of our transformation. Because everything we need to become the people we were meant to become next is actually inside the hot loneliness of now. So when we Easy button our way out we are like caterpillars who jump out of the cocoon right before we would have become butterflies. Because pain is actually not a hot potato. It’s the traveling professor and it knocks on everybody’s door, and the wisest ones say, “Come in. Sit down, and don’t leave until you’ve taught me what I need to know.” But we’ve got it all wrong. We are afraid of pain, but we were made for pain. We need to be afraid of the Easy buttons. Because the journey of the Love Warrior is to rush toward her pain and let her pain become her power.”

Newsflash: It Hurts to Be Human

Being human hurts. We try so hard to avoid this fact, doing our best to numb ourselves with various addictions, overwork, obsessive love affairs, positive psychology, and or spiritual bypassing techniques to try to “love and light” our way past the pain. But no matter how you run away from pain, pain will track you down, stalking you like a leopard until you finally dive down into it and really let it devour you. We have to go all the way into our traumas (as I described here) before it can begin to release us, open our hearts, and show us that at the pit of our pain, all we meet is (paradoxically) unconditional love. This is what we’re so afraid of? Love?

When Spiritual Bypassing Comes in Handy

Spiritual bypassing can be a healthy tool when we need it. As I described here when I was attacked by a pit bull, it was helpful to be able to use my meditation training to be able to bypass the intense pain of the acute injury. If you’re in the midst of an acute trauma, go ahead and use the spiritual bypass! But we can’t outrun the pain forever. We can delay it until we’re emotionally and physically equipped to handle it, until we have the emotional resilience to be able to be with that much pain without killing ourselves, harming someone else, or going crazy. Spiritual bypassing sure beats other numbing and bypassing techniques, such as addictions that harm the body. But ultimately, we have to find within us the strength to go down the rabbit hole of our pain — and we can’t do that alone. We need each other. We need our tribe. We need a personal connection to Divine Source. We need therapists and spiritual counselors and soul friends who can hold our hands as we venture into the scary, painful unknown. Only then can we truly, deeply, fully heal.

May we all find that inner fortitude so that we can do what we must in order to be who we must.

By: Lissa Rankin, MD

#spiritual #spirituality #life #consciousness #nature #lessons #guidance #guidance articles #articles

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