Count The Stars

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via @discipleofkleio

oh, my child…what a story. what a story, indeed.

the day KICK was born, there took place a mysterious series of very fortunate events. one might go so far as to call it…destiny.

*clears throat and opens storybook*

The Lucky Luciano (aka the “you know I had to do it to em” meme) twitter account was the origin of this glorious saying

somebody tweeted asking LuckyLucianoOG “how many rts to get you to tweet klance is canon king” to which the reply was “50”

thing is…there was a misunderstanding.

you see, my child, the user didnt want him to tweet “klance is canon king.” the user wanted him to tweet “klance is canon” and they were calling him king.

good ol’ modest lucky had no idea they were actually calling him a king, and thought they wanted him to literally tweet “klance is canon king.”

he also apparently did not know the difference between canon and cannon.

welp, the tweet got 50 rts and uh

….a beautiful KICK was born.

*slams storybook shut*

“My name is Teresa Wilms Montt, and I am not suitable for young ladies.” –– That’s how she introduced herself to the world, one of the most rebellious and luminous voices of Chilean literature in the 20th century.

Teresa Wilms Montt (full name: María Teresa de las Mercedes Wilms Montt), also known as Thérèse Wilms Montt or by pseudonyms like Tebal and Teresa de la Cruz, was a Chilean writer, poet, and anarcha-feminist born on September 8, 1893, in Viña del Mar, Chile. She died on December 24, 1921, at age 28 in Paris, France. Her short life was marked by rebellion against conservative aristocratic norms, intense personal suffering, literary innovation, and a tragic end that has made her a symbol of early 20th-century feminist defiance in Latin America.

i saw somebody say “what if you’re gone and i haven’t become anything yet” and basically that broke me on a random thursday evening

and like. do we have to keep gently phrasing things to protect naturally-thin people's feelings. in my life it has never been fashionable to be fat. "fat" is still a bad word. there has never been institutional power pushing people to gain weight; no trillion-dollar industry to "fix" skinny people. a larger body type has never been over-represented in models, influencers, celebrities. sure, people might say "i'm worried for your health," but they do it with respect and gentleness, like they're talking to a scared deer.

every single fucking time i talk about this, i have to be so careful with what i say, in case i offend even one skinny person. it is just true that skinny people have social capital across many cultures. there is a reason you almost never hear someone say "i wish i was fat," but you will constantly see people say "I wish i was thin." and yet inevitably some skinny person will tell me: i thought you wanted body positivity. it is the same fucking attitude as when a cis man says "when you say men have power, well, i've been bullied for being a man. i thought you believe in mental health awareness. don't you know men have a higher suicide rate?"

two things can be true at once: your experience being bullied for being thin was terrible. and people with larger bodies probably have it worse.

i have been big and small. i know many other people who have been big and small. trust what i'm about to tell you: being small is much easier. the world is kinder to you. people treat you better. honestly, this pattern occurs pretty much regardless of gender - my guy friends have confided that they'd rather be bullied for being thin than be bullied for being fat. if you're skinny, the pressure might be to gain weight, sure, but it's often to do so in a way that keeps you skinny - to gain muscle, specifically.

thinness is seen as innate and natural, genetic. whereas carrying any fat - that is a moral failing. it is assumed to be related to your character, your personality. i have seen people equate it to discipline, to hygiene. that bias is why we need to talk about this.

Now, in my mind, amnesia meant everything sort of went black and you’d come to days later without a clue of what had happened or where you were. And while, that absolutely can be the case for some— it wasn’t for me.

Amnesia for me is much more complex. The gaps of memory I loose are patched together by the things that I do remember. My mind may omit half the day, but because I can remember the other half, it doesn’t feel as if I’ve lost any time truly. My mind worked overtime to hide how much time I was loosing, simply because if I knew, I don’t think the past version of myself would’ve handled it very well. </3

I, too, tend to imagine amnesia/losing time looks like completely blacking out and waking up somewhere new, but for many systems this is either very rare or does not happen. It doesn’t happen to me, so I thought I didn’t have any amnesia, despite things happening like what was described in the post above. But then I learned about grey amnesia.

Grey amnesia is what it sounds like—it’s not a total blackout but you don’t remember everything either. The way it works for me is I may have knowledge of a day or event, but not from my perspective. It’s like when your family tells a story from when you were a baby so many times that you know it by heart, but you don’t actually have your own memory of the event. I like to describe it as bullet points or spark notes. I get the information on what happened that day, but instead of truly remembering it from my perspective, I have a list of what happened to fill me in.

Grey amnesia can be hard to pinpoint if you don’t know what you’re looking for, and in my experience it can cause doubt in yourself as a system. I would think things like “oh, but I remember everything that happened today” or “but I remember what that alter did so did we really switch?” and doubt my experience. But after learning about grey amnesia, I realized my way of “remembering” events is not what it looks like to remember something for most people.