“You’re asking for it.”
I want to write this down so bad, I want to share it, I want to talk about it, I want to scream at the top of my lungs from every rooftop and street corner.
I want to say “Stop, baby, think before you talk”.
Shit happens, you know. It happens to you, it happens to me. It happens to our friends, our families, our enemies, to strangers and acquaintances. It happens to everyone. Shit happens; one kind of BS or the other. You can’t compare the traumatic experiences one person has had with something someone else experienced. You can’t label them and color code them according to intensity, pain level, brokenness, unfairness, etc. You just can’t.
Or at least, you’re not supposed to.
You tell your friends, those who manage to break through those walls and shields of yours, you tell them everything. And once you do, something weird happens. Where a comment or a word or an action from a stranger would be something you could easily brush off, coming from the person you confided in, it destroys you. And in that moment, you’re not thinking “they’re human too, they make mistakes as well, you’ve done so much worse than that, they probably never even intended it that way”.
You try to tell yourself those things. But you fail miserably. You try to go back to being a normal, wholesome and rational adult around that person. But you fail at that as well. Because you let them in. So now, in your twisted brain, it is impossible to go back to a state where one isn’t hyperaware of triggering another. Why would you single out this person if they were going to be just like everyone else? Why would you let them see all the dirt inside you, only to have them throw it in your face when things go south?
And then it comes down to this:
“Don’t victimize yourself. Don’t play the victim. Don’t ask for it. Don’t make it ALL about you, about your pain, about your past, about those horrible ugly things that happened to you. Don’t use that as a green card out of every difficult situation. Pull yourself together. You will regret sorely that when you finally do, the person you want the most to witness your success will just not be around anymore. Pull yourself together, everybody is suffering. Pull yourself together, everyone is depressed. Stop whining man, stop making it all such a big deal. Don’t be selfish. Don’t be whiny. Don’t be moody. Don’t be depressed. Don’t let it out all the time. Don’t give in to it. Don’t stew in it. Don’t make excuses. Don’t. Just don’t.”
And then they say
“But hey, I’m your best friend/mother/brother. You needn’t hide anything from me.“
Well then, people. Stop it. Don’t use that word. Don’t imply, directly or indirectly, that someone is playing the victim. They might be throwing a fit, they might be being selfish, they might just be trying at normalcy with you by being crude and gruff and laughing it off, they might be snapping at you like they would at anybody they consider precious enough to rely on when everything else is falling apart. Sometimes, they just might not be strong enough or brave enough to pull themselves out of the pit they’re in. So call them out on all that, if you must.
But don’t say those things. Don’t point at someone who has been a victim and accuse them, even lightly, no matter what the context, of playing the victim. This is someone who has been there, down on the floor with everything disgusting and evil towering over them, and who has managed to somehow with the years crawl away from that spot, inch by inch. No matter what state of peace or tranquility, or even trigger-unrelated anger and sorrow that person is going through, that word, that accusation, it’s always going to break something.
Yes, it’s a big deal for us. Yes, you will NEVER truly understand unless you’ve been in these shoes. Yes, it overwhelms us and often makes us the most pathetic human beings ever, those constantly in need of attention and understanding and care. The very essence of our beings was once steeped in disgust, guilt, fear, self-hatred, distrust, anger, mortification and pure sickly-shame. And we never want to revisit that. Which is a hard enough ongoing battle, even without external triggers. So when you promise us your trust, and your understanding, that’s a bed you’re gonna have to sleep in forever. Do not lie there, next to a bleeding, broken, mess and say “stop playing the victim”. Instead, if it’s not something you can take, which is perfectly okay, by the way – sometimes, you can’t take another person’s endless shit, you get broken in the process as well – so, it’s okay, if you can’t do it, then push those sheets aside and walk away. And don’t look back. And you will not have to be subject to a universe where you constantly feel someone is playing the victim.
And you, yourself, will NOT be playing the victim anymore.
And nobody will think any the less of you, or of that mess you left bleeding all over the sheets. Shit happens. To everybody.
Either you play by the rules that absolutely cannot be broken, or you walk away.
Both are okay. And there is neither any shame, nor any glory, in choosing one over the either.
I had a dream just the other day
That I dropped a little bird from its nest
My baby plummeted to the ground
Touched earth and then flew away
But before she was mine, I was hers
Or so the dream portrayed
Her arms were my soft strong cradle
Untiringly wrapped around me for years
And my dreams and nightmares often mate
To bequeath to me such twisted melodies
Where she once let my tiny feet walk on hers
When she turned tiny I left her to cruel fate
I had a nightmare just the other day
That I let my baby fall and get hurt so bad
And all tears and apologies come too late
Cause my little bird has now flown away
Its been quite a while now, since I have not written anything while at work. Its also been a quite a while since I wrote anything personal. Or casual. Or fun. Makes me rethink if I was writing at a…
Source: Being Inspired on Creativity
So, I am going to attempt getting back to why I initially created this WordPress blog – to talk about pop culture, language, people, all the things I’m most passionate about. But considering how inconsistent I am, I am gonna take a page outta this lovely blogger’s writings!!
“I wish I could proudly say I have been blogging for almost a year. I will be celebrating my blog anniversary on 30th June. But, to be very honest this is my 5th month as a blogger because I was on …”
Am I destined for my destination?
I’ve been travelling my whole life – for 26.5 years now. And only a few days of that time did I spend physically moving from one place to another. But I’ve traveled. I’ve traveled through books and words, through movies and music, through ideas and people, through every possible and impossible thing I’ve encountered. Whatever I see or touch or taste, I stick a pair of wings to and make my next mode of transportation.
And, oh how I do fly…
I fly from one place to the next thing and then elsewhere and then next door and then wherever next. There’s always another place I have to see; someone else I have to be.
But it’s in moments like this that I travel back home. It’s in the quiet light of my room that I start undressing. It’s in the tired remains of my day that I think back to who I am. And if I’m anything at all, it’s who I am to you; it’s what I mean to you.
And so, in the quiet tired moments when I’m undeniably wide awake and yet so close to falling asleep, that’s when I travel to you. That’s when I use 26 years worth travelling experience to dissolve into an insubstantial, invisible, formless idea that is my final mode of waking transportation. I travel different in my dreams. But this gossamer idea that I embrace, so completely that it’s pressed into my skin, lifts me away to where you are. I have access to the possibility of you. And because I have a traveler’s soul, I fear I will never truly feel the despair of not actually, physically reaching you. You are my destination. But the journey itself, that is my destiny.
And I do it well.
Canonically, there is this other responsibility that comes with certain job descriptions, with certain posts within certain industries. I call it “other” because I don’t think it’s ever written down anywhere as a hard and fast rule. And any rules that are written, fast lose context and meaning with the evolving demands of the world around us. Teachers, educators, jurists and law enforcement officers, priests, doctors, healers, counselors – these people, these designations, come with a responsibility. Those who step into these roles must go the extra mile for the people they serve. As a teacher, you cannot do wrong by your students. As a priest, you cannot misguide, even in the name of god. As a doctor, you try to heal the human assigned to you, not just whatever plagues that human.
Or so I believe it should be.
And then there’s the media, the entertainment industry. And believe me, if there’s anyone who gets what entertainment is all about, it’s me. I am the consummate consumer. So I know that selling the show is what it’s all about. But I also, very strongly, firmly, believe that creators, show-runners, filmmakers and any others in this field have to take up that unsaid, unwritten mantle. It’s old-fashioned, it’s dusty and forgotten, but it must never be completely abandoned. For nobody teaches like the media does, nobody preaches like the media does, nobody holds, victim and criminal alike, accountable, like the media can. This power, then, is remiss without the responsibility that canonically belongs with it. The right message must be sent. The right things taught. The right values and morals preached. And ALL wrong acts, thoughts and events condemned.
Which is why I am unshaken in my faith in, and support of, Destiel.
And if, IF AT ALL, ANYONE IN ANY POSITION OF “POWER”, IS READING THIS, then you must do your best towards achieving Destiel in canon. The world you and I live in cannot keep taking the blows it does. We are dark and twisted and so beyond redemption as a race. But there are tiny factions within each single soul that are still pure, still hopeful and yearning for that end-scene drive-into-the-sunset moment. We deserve that moment. We deserve the message such a thing would send to everybody out there who has had to live half-lives even in this “new and free” world of ours. And we DO NOT deserve plain old ratings-jonesing queer-baiting that will never see to the promise it barely dares breathe out loud.
Now as a geek and a fangirl, having your OTP come together in magical showers of sparkles and rainbows is actually NOT really tasteful at all. The truth is that that burning, one inch, unbridgeable, gap between our OTP characters in the canon is exactly what fuels our fanfiction engine. It’s what makes the ship burn and glow and expand uncontrollably. But show-makers know exactly what they’re doing. And SPN is so damn resourceful, clever and achingly poetic in each storyline it follows, each character it portrays, each dialogue that is delivered with such seeming ease. It wouldn’t take much at all to make the cruel, unfulfilled teasing between Dean and Cas into something a little less pathetic, a little more dignified and worthy of the faith and trust fans put into the show. Nobody’s asking for a happily-ever-after post credits scene with Winchesters, and Fallen Angel, and Lesbian Geek Prodigy Hacker, and whoever else, just soaking up domestic bliss. No.
All we ask for is a little less “slimy-intentions”, a little more honest-to-god actual canonical hinting.
Besides, Sam totally ships it.
I do not own the pictures inserted into this post; just borrowing them with no slimy intentions! 😛 😀