Storyteller/ Overthinker

most of the time this is okay, and i bask in the quiet. i make myself a new and fancy recipe. i bake treats for my dog. i take environmentally-shameful-length showers. i often like being alone. i like to sit and have the world hold me in a palm like a mercury spill.

but then the small things. i kind of want to see one of the touring broadway shows. or a particular movie. i just want to tangle my legs into someone else's while we eat popcorn and talk about our favorite types of tea or something. it's not that i can't handle any of this by myself - i do, i am happy doing so - but i sometimes cut the orange in half and wish i could peel it for a second person.

i am cheerfully and chipperly informed that all things can be fun and exciting by yourself. i am reminded that loving myself should be the first and foremost goal. i am jokingly informed that if i just hold out, my wife will appear in the clouds as if i wished for her - but that i shouldn't drive myself crazy by looking. i ground myself in my incredible friends and support. i do it all the "right" way.

original image from the magazine:

And the bit where they’re HER roses? Almost a relief, but also sadder, as she will arrive at whatever event without them, or with them destroyed.

Do you think when the righteous anger and anxiety and annoyance fade, when she arrives at her destination- will her loved ones applaud her? Will she be proud? Will her hands shake? Will she walk home with company from then out, and for how long?

In this moment, she is provoked into anger. Anger is good- it appears strong. But look at his face. Would you put it past him to linger there after dark, in case she returns alone?

What story will HE tell, of ‘I was perfectly polite, but she didn’t even give me a chance- women like that, they’d swoon for a jerk in a heartbeat, but kind and flattering men like me?…”

instead ask:

is it SINCERE

was it CATHARTIC

was it FUN TO MAKE

is it MADE BY ME

I fell asleep in my friends' arms. It was eleven at night, we were tired, curled up in a small pile on my tiny bed. I had my head buried in my roommate's side, and one of my closest friend's hand on my shoulder, steadying me. It was quiet and nothingness and peace and their heartbeats in my ears, my hands in their hair.

"there is no platonic explanation for this--"

We pack four people to that little bed, you know. Laps used as footrests, collarbones as pillows, little lights like moonlight in rustic yellow bathed on their faces. The TV plays an anime. The words are repeated by my dear friend on my shoulder, curled close. My legs are asleep; my roommate may be, too.

"there is no platonic explanation for this--"

The cat curls on top of our criss cross mess of legs and arms and heads on chests to absorb the warmth of us all. She purrs in contented peace. When my roommate and I are left alone in the quiet, she cries, and watches the door for our friends' return.

"there is no platonic explanation for this--"

I will never kiss them but the top of their heads. I will never touch but the warmth of their arms. I will never take more than what's freely given, and in return I put my glasses on the bedside table fashioned from a guitar amp, and when I lean into their sides, I pick up my vulnerability and place it in their capable, tender hands.

"there is no platonic explanation for this--"

I sing for them. I cry for them. I work and I run and I withstand the worst of the world for them, because some days I get to cradle their forehead on my shoulder and some days I get to see their shining eyes.

"there is no platonic explanation for this--"

Maybe to you. But look beyond explanation. I love them. With my heart in my unsteady hands, with my nose pressed to the side of their head, with the buzzing in my feet and the warmth all around Iike the sunset pushing into the window.

"there is no platonic explanation for this--"

Is it enough to say I love them? With no strings attached? With reckless abandon and utter devotion and freedom and kindness and fear?

"there is no platonic explanation for this--"

I saw a post about someone chiding Millennials for not knowing about JKRowlings transphobia, and asking how it is at all possible that people can exist in the world and the internet and, you know, not know.

Which I mean, I get. It is so present in so many of my online spaces that it seems astounding that someone could simply be ignorant! It feels impossible!

But let me tell you a story:

I went on a girls trip with a bunch of friends. All of us are rather incredibly liberal and all of us are incredibly online.

One girl would not stop talking about Harry Potter.

At one point, another girl asked her why she was ok with supporting it, and she had no real clue that JK Rowling was at all transphobic. She had heard that she likes to support Lesbian causes and thought “oh ok cool!” And that was it. She was AGOG with the news and rather horrified.

I must once again emphasize that she was an incredibly online person. She’s a foodie and a restaurant blogger.

Later in the trip we were picking restaurants and I suggested one I found on Google, and she gasped at me. Actually gasped, asking how I could ever be okay picking that one.

The shock must’ve been on my face, because she then told me all of the shitty things that restaurateur does. He abuses staff. Underpays them. Fires them on a whim. Is known for being one of the worst people to his employees in the entire restaurant business on this coast.

And she was so shocked I had never heard of this. Because in her mind, I was just as online as her. And in her online world, EVERYONE knew about this guy.

So I think the moral of this story is: always approach the other person with some empathy. Even online people, even people you think MUST know about how bad people are, may not have heard. It may truly be just them being on a different sphere of the internet than you.

So be gentle, be kind when letting people know they might not have heard about the cancellation of XYZ person. Don’t assume that everyone knows all the same info as you.

[Image ID:

A pair of images of Brian David Gilbert with subtitles of what he is saying. In the first image, he has a guarded expression and is saying “And if you needed me to tell you that..”

In the second image he has a more pleasant expression and is saying “I’m glad I told you that.”

This has gotta be one of the funniest things I've ever seen. 😂😂😂

Absquatulate: to leave without saying goodbye

Cassandra Complex: a psychological penomenon in which someone's accurate prediction of a crisis is ignored or dismissed

Cicatrize: to find healing by the process of forming scars

Even a Worm will turn: the belief that even the most docile creature will retaliate if pushed too far

Fernweh: the ache for distant places; the urge to leave everything familiar behind

Hamartia: a fatal flaw leading to the downfall of a tragic hero

Hiraeth: homesickness for a home you can never return to

Ichor: a fluid that flows like blood in the veins of gods

Jester's Privilege: the ability and right of a jester to mock his king without fear of punishment, for nothing he says seems to matter

Lachesism: longing for the clarity that comes with living through a disaster

Lotus-Eater: a person who lives their life in a constant state of dream and fantasy

Novalunosis: the state of relaxation and wonder experienced while gazing up at the stars

Pyrrhic Victory: a victory with such devastating consequence and collateral that is becomes a 'hollow victory'

Swan Song: a final act or effort given just before death

Wanderlust: a strong desire to wander and explore the world free from any obligation

Weltschmerz: the pain that comes with the realisation that the material world will never satisfy the demands of the soul

Whistle in the Dark: to make a show of bravery despite one's fear

Yhprum's Law: 'everything that can go right will go right'