do you think you'll ever be a grandfather?
It's not something I think about much, to be honest. If it happens, it happens. I'd much rather it never happen at all than be under bad circumstances.
...please don't ask me just what i think...
...trust me you don't want to know...
It's not something I think about much, to be honest. If it happens, it happens. I'd much rather it never happen at all than be under bad circumstances.
Absolutely glorious. Did finally get something up into Lj about it today.
I'm not entirely sure what you're asking, really. In cases of arranged marriages for instance, I've read that sometimes the couples do end up falling in love with one another even though they didn't start out that way. But I don't know if you can set your sights on someone and force it to happen. Too many variables, not in the least the opinion of the other person, you know?
All depends on what my budget is. If I'm stupid rich and it's no object what I spend? Whatever, if I like something enough and it looks good on me.
I really can't see spending ~thousands~ on any piece of clothing though, even if I had it to burn.
Several hundred, sure -- any good men's suit is going to run AT LEAST US$300 and that's a cheap one, just for example. But if I drop that kind of cash, it had better be something I'm going to get a LOT of wear out of, and it had better look good.
Bitter For Sweet - Blaqk Audio
I have lyrics from this song tattooed up my left arm, that's how close it fits me.
http://youtu.be/m2D7aFvOsek
kiddo, this morning dropping her off at school.
danke. could use 'em right now, m'sweetie's at a work conference and I'm lonely.
The typical routines of having a family and a house and pets to take care of. I'm waiting on spinal surgery at the moment so I'm not at work during the day. I really hate it. I do much better with life when I'm busy both mentally and physically.
Yeah, far as I can remember.
What goes on inside someone else's head isn't mine to judge. Only their behavior matters. If you think about doing a horrible thing your entire life and yet never act on it.... you know?
It all depends on how it's written and handled, I guess. It's a far too common reality for far too many of us, and as far as that goes it's going to find its way into a lot of writing as some function of plot device. Handled realistically and empathetically (and that doesn't mean pitying), I don't see a problem with it as a genre/sub-genre.
I've only really run into problems personally when an author who doesn't possess a real understanding of it -- that it's an act of violence, not sex and sure as fuck not affection or romance -- tries to use it as a plot. That can run from simply being triggering to full-on offensive. There's also been a few instances of people accidentally crossing the lines when trying to write, say, BDSM and crossing into noncon and not realizing they've done so -- in those cases, that's usually a matter of not really researching what you're writing about, not an intentional surprise!no-warning NC.
As for people who actually 'get off on it' as you put it, as opposed to "will read it for the emotional dynamic" -- and there's a big difference there -- ... as long as they understand exactly what it is they're seeing, and can distinguish that as being a literary kink versus something they'd actually do or condone in real life? Can't judge them for it while I'm immersed in a fandom that also glorifies TWC.
Goes for any kink, no matter how taboo -- you can't control what turns you on, but you can control what you do about it.
As long as it stays a mental kink and doesn't become a behavior, or cross the boundaries into reality and cause you to lose sight of what the truth of it is for people who have endured it? I can't judge. But I will say this; if someone ever heard my story or the stories of some of my friends and reacted with "...that's hot" or some such? I would not be speaking to them ever again, no.
Ageplay and NCplay between consenting adults is an entirely different matter than the actual behavior -- the same goes for reading or writing it. HOWEVER. If it's something that could become seriously problematic if acted on, the individual should get some help.
Have I been? Yeah. Bullying others was never my MO; it's much too blatant. If I have it in for someone, they're not even gonna know where it came from.
Hmmm. I would have pegged Capricorn as your rising rather than sun sign. But you have an awful lot in common with the other Capricorns I know. Books, books, books.
Yeah, pretty much.
Hmm. It can be. Some of us will just go all silent and judgmental in cases like that rather than speak out.
Scorpio.
Bitte. Stay safe, alright?
It's a defense, certainly. I'll admit to that.
I can come off as a misanthropic old bastard a lot of the time.
I'm gonna assume you mean in text somehow, LJ or AIM or whatever. I'm not easily offended... seriously. That doesn't mean I won't tell you when I think you're misguided on something...
I can come off a bit rough but that's also because my sense of humor doesn't translate well in text with no tone.
No. I know there wasn't anything anyone could have done or said. It's a hard realization to come to but in this case, it was also understandable. He was HIV+ and near the end as it was, and he wanted to go while he still had control. I only wish he'd let me say goodbye. I still have the jewelry he gave me, the odd little bits of clothing he made for me. He was a window dresser for the big department stores in downtown Boston and adored fashion. I miss him all the time. I wear the ring he gave me when I feel him around me.
It's situational. If you're in a bad place physically, do anything you can to get out of there. Find out if there's anything resembling a crisis center in your area and call them; you can stay anonymous that way and still get some help.
If there's one single person in the world you trust, tell them exactly that. I'm not alright. I'm not safe. I'm scared. I need some help.
I don't recommend going to the ER unless it's literally all that will keep you safe; the mental health system is wretched in the US, but if you know you need help and it's all there is, do it. The rest doesn't matter.
It's a good sign that you recognize this in yourself this clearly, even if you're in hell emotionally - it means you can get through it.
I hope this helps any. Hang on.
It's a hellish place to be. All I can really say is you need to get somewhere safe when you hit that level, because you're not safe with yourself anymore even though the instinct is to isolate.
erf. I don't mean to, honestly. I'm sorry. Anything I can do to fix that any?
It comes down to something I said on LJ a few days ago. One has to decide who they're doing something for and how much outside validation they need to feel good about it. If you're doing it for yourself and you're happy with it, that's good enough. Being an artist of any kind, whether you work in words or graphics or music, you do need to either feel it's good enough for yourself and fuck everyone else, or you admit you need some validation.
I don't get the impression much, but it wouldn't really surprise me if someone said they were. I can come off pretty strongly sometimes and it wouldn't surprise me if it put people off.
I have a difficult time determining where the line between "good enough" and "fuck this, it's pointless" lies.
Scorpio perfectionism, according to my husband. Astrology fluff aside... I have no good answer besides what experience has taught me. Too many years of "Nice try, but..." or coming in second, third, fifth, twentieth, never first. At 20-ish, this might not be so insurmountable, but I'm almost 40. I don't have another fifteen years to try to improve anything and expect to get anywhere.
More than the one in the mirror? Eh.
"Choose your enemies carefully, because they will define you. Make them interesting, because in some ways they will mind you.
They're not there in the beginning but when your story ends, gonna last with you longer than your friends." - Bono, Cedars Of Lebanon
"Och, are ye from there?" -- Our lovely hostess at a B&B on the eastern coast of Scotland, upon learning we were heading back to Edinburgh after we left her lodgings. I'd managed to vanish into my heritage and behavior and succeed in appearing and behaving Not American. Best compliment I ever got.
Sometimes. And sometimes you need to face reality and realize you just aren't up to spec for some things, no matter how badly you want them.
true enough.
Here and there, though I have no idea what on. I've messed with the idea of working on a fiction series, but I've no delusions that it'd ever go anywhere. The most I've ever had published was a letter to Newsweek. Bah. Thanks though.
Sometimes your brain ends up misfiring so badly that you honestly think you're doing people a favor by getting yourself out of the way. Quite literally, you're convinced they're better off without you around, you don't ever see any way of changing just how damaged you are and you'd rather they go on in life without you there fucking it up for them. You know it'll hurt them, but you're also convinced they'll be relieved in the end. They won't have to deal with you anymore, they can move on and live a better life.
I'm still here, thereby under the guidelines I've laid out previously, I haven't...
Understandable, I suppose. Some things simply lead to one becoming troll bait once they're put out there, so I have to find a balance somewhere in what I do talk about here.
Even if I've avoided being explicit, it needs to be talked about and brought to light, not hidden away. People need to know and be brought to awareness about these things in the hopes that more will be inspired to make it stop. Thanks for the words.
It's obviously not a 100% black and white thing, as you point out. I'm just speaking from what I've seen and experienced. Someone who's determined to do it will find a way, even if it takes a few tries, until they end up either succeeding or institutionalized. I've seen both.
Have I? Not sure I know you well enough to get into that, since you've stayed anon so far.
My opinion on it is, you don't try.
You either do it or you don't.
Anything else is a gesture, telling the world you're going down and you need help -- but that you don't WANT to die, even if living has become intolerable.
Working in emergency medical services pretty much showed me all this in starkest reality.
I'm still here.
There's a strange kind of strength in being able to scream along in the car, or in your room, or at a concert, to words that reflect who you are and what you've become as a result of someone else's inhumanity.
That you're NOT the only one, that someone else knows and understands - that's invaluable. Those songs say the things I can't, every single day, and if just for those four minutes I'm being honest with the world it's worth it for the other hours I have to keep up the masks and the defenses. It lets off the pressure.
You have to be careful with that though.
Bono once wrote a line "...Many lost who seek to find themselves in me; they ask me to reveal the very thoughts they'd conceal." That's stayed with me too, a caution not to try and find too much there.
Sometimes those songs are laced with darkness, yes. But others bring a bit of hope, even if only in companionship, a way to keep going when it all looms much too large to ever feel like you can make it through. You hear the cliche "this song saved my life" a bit too often, I think... it's become somewhat meaningless in its overuse, so I try to avoid it.
It's obviously not all I listen to; as you point out, O anon, I don't want the reminders all the time. But I can seek them out when I need them. The ones that stay with me the most -- those get inked on. The fact that the man that wrote those lyrics autographed them right there on my skin means even more. I told him why, when I asked him if he'd be willing. He wrapped his hand around my arm, his thumb crossed the biggest scar - that wasn't an accident. Now that signature is inked there too. Some call it obsessed - for me it's a reminder. Not alone in this.
We all have to find our own ways through, or else we give up, commit a kind of suicide -- sometimes actual, physical, sometimes spiritual. One just happens a little faster.
It's not. I just can't help what I see.
I certainly don't go looking for it. I don't need the reminders, I don't need or want it on my mind. But it's like trying to look at a color and not recognize it. You know blue is blue just by seeing it, not thinking about it. It can be like that.
To know what? That I see the signs in others, or to go pull those old reports? Not sure what you're asking.
Some are suspicions, and some I'm dead certain -- and some I know for sure, because I've been lucky enough to speak with them either in person or by email -- or because years after I first heard them and just knew, they spoke about it in an interview or even onstage.
The little things, certain phrases and frames of reference that just don't occur to people outside all this. There are some concepts and specific ideations that are just about exclusive to this kind of experience.
Hell, sometimes it's even in the way someone stands when they're in a crowd. Things they say, the imagery in the music.
I kind of wish I wasn't aware, because I don't like to think about it happening to people I respect... but then again, they wouldn't be where they are, doing what they do, or at least not writing the way they do if they hadn't had something happen.
But it's a terrifying, if powerful moment, when you listen to a song for the first time and get hit with that "...oh my god, someone else understands".
It's a lot more than it sounds like, but that's not information for a public audience.
It's interesting, I can spot another of us pretty fast in music, someone who's lived through something like this. And now AFI and Blaqk Audio lyrics cover the old scars. Go figure.
You really don't want to know.
There's records of it in the Boston Police history. I've always meant to go request those files; maybe it's macabre, but part of me wants to know if they ever caught the perpetrators. If any of them actually did jail time, or got those fancy court-appointed lawyers and made a plea deal. If they're still alive now, if they did it again to anyone else.
I want to know, but I still can't make myself do it.
You're asking the wrong man.
PTSD tends not to accommodate having a positive view of much of anything, some days.
Wouldn't bother me... they wanna knock boots, it's not my business, more power to em.
Though I'd be skeeved at having to have any kind of discussion or contact with my ex, since he turned all stalker-weird on me when I broke it off.... I'd say if it was one certain of my BF's exen and mine.. they fucking well deserve one another.