Little Blue Ghost

Giselle | australia

[figarooney]

Ok but when cecil said, “I don’t know everything about Carlos. And he does not tell me everything. That is okay. We are not one person. How lonely that would be, a couple who has made themselves one, so completely, that they are once again alone.”

[madnanc]

Accurate.

[katherinewhistler]

In whatever manner it comes to be, love is never wrong, especially between one who has so much of it to give and one so desperately in need of it. (insp.)

[morningmightcomebyaccident]

You ever think about how Anne Lister used that magical, unthinkable, inconceivable phrase: “my wife”?

The first time Anne says it, she swallows the word:

The phrase is so audacious, so presumptuous, so daring, such an appropriation that after almost saying it, almost verbalizing it, Anne shoots Ann a look that says, Yeah, I know what I almost said.

But. But clearly Anne has been thinking in these terms. “My wife” is clearly the designation she has hung on Ann Walker and the promise Anne seeks from Ann, the goal of all these weeks and months of… courting, but to say it aloud is to dare to appropriate a sacrament and an institution that has barred them from participation. All they can achieve is… emulation. A “private understanding.” But even restricted to that Anne has already brought Ann around to the idea of “marriage” between them, in the very Christian and sanctified sense of a holy order, the exchange of vows and swearing oaths on the Bible and exchanging rings, all the symbols that represent a lifetime commitment condoned, consecrated, and blessed in the eyes of God. Anne never breathed the word marriage, but naturally she led Ann to such a conclusion:

Because a wedding, matrimony, is exactly what Anne is aiming for. But even then Anne didn’t say: Yes, and you would be my wife. But it’s undeniably the terms in which Anne has been thinking, because the second time Anne says the phrase “my wife,” it is a plea, a claim, a suitor casting her case out before the object of her affections:

I want you to be my wife… and everything that that means. I know we can never have children. That is a great sadness. But everything else: to love and to cherish and to have and to hold, according to God’s holy ordinance. […] But you never need to be alone. You can be with me always at Shibden. We can navigate this life and everything that it throws at us together. And with God’s blessing… He will give us strength and courage.

It comes out of Anne somewhat tremulously, almost desperately, Anne falling to her knees before Ann, but it is completely earnest. In Anne’s head, “my wife” is the right phrase the only terms to define what they would be to one another, but to present it so plainly to Ann, to present the frame without having Ann grapple her own way to it, is a risk of scaring Ann away with the powerful implications. When Ann comes to the conclusions by way of her own reasoning, it’s an easing into the idea. Up until now Ann has followed Anne’s logic and accepted the lines Anne has drawn… to the idea of a proposal, to the notion of some sort of wedding ceremony. But to be upfront in no uncertain terms about a marriage and being a wife to Anne presents a risk of overwhelming Ann with an idea that is Too Big, Too Conspicuous, Too Transgressive.

It’s a lot to lay on Ann Walker out of the blue, in the context of a very stressful conversation. But when Anne says "my wife” a third time, the only thing that Anne projects is unthinking conviction in the notion of marriage with Ann Walker as every bit as equal and validated and binding as any heterosexual marriage:

Anne doesn’t stumble on the phrase “my wife” for a millisecond. It rolls off her tongue as naturally as breathing. No hitch, no hesitation, no pause, no thinking, no apology, no self-consciousness. “My wife.” Anne would be as good as any husband, as deserving of respect and fidelity (and as entitled to Ann’s property) as any man who could take the sacrament or exchange vows with Ann Walker in a public ceremony. Anne’s on equal footing and on the same playing ground as any such men who can press their suit relentlessly and with the acknowledgement of friends and family, and so to be treated as second class, to be kept around like a mistress, is demeaning. Anne demands her due. There’s no pussyfooting around the semantics anymore because Anne has seized the semantics as her right. “My wife.” It’s the right language, it’s the natural language, it’s exactly what Anne has been trying to say by indirect means: be with me, be mine, be my wife. This is the heart of the matter and Anne isn’t obfuscating it anymore.

From this point on, “marry” will become the de facto word that Ann and Anne use regarding the relationship upgrade they could embark on together. But its foundation is here, in Anne’s unflinching, unashamed, clear-eyed, plainly spoken conviction. After this they can’t pretend it could be anything but marriage that they want or could expect or must respect from the other–and neither will they hold themselves to a lesser standard or ask for less. It might be only a private understanding, but with these words, in these terms, a union between them is lent every ounce of weight.

Marriage. My wife. From one woman to another. In the 1830s. In the blind spot of State and Church.

Incredible.

[plain-flavoured-english]

Your purpose in life is not to love yourself but to love being yourself.

If you goal is to love yourself, then your focus is directed inward toward yourself, and you end up constantly watching yourself from the outside, disconnected, trying to summon the “correct” feelings towards yourself or fashion yourself into something you can approve of.

If your goal is to love being yourself, then your focus is directed outward towards life, on living and making decisions based on what brings you pleasure and fulfillment.

Be the subject, not the object. It doesn’t matter what you think of yourself. You are experiencing life. Life is not experiencing you.

[saxifraga-x-urbium]

Thank you this is the first post about self love that hasn’t made me want to throw things

[anxietyproblem]

[wolfinthethorns]

Honestly, in my work as a therapist, I’m seeing this A Lot, and tbh I still don’t have a satisfactory approach to it. A heavy dose of Existentialist “create your own Purpose” tempered with “when the plane’s going down, put your own oxygen mask on first”, but… yeah, there is no ethical way to work on individual emotional distress without acknowledging the systemic socioeconomic, geopolitical fuckery going on at the moment, and the sheer grief that comes with it.

[findingfeather]

This is one of those areas where like on the one hand as a chronic moderate-severe depressive this shit hits me hard and on the other I’m watching people technically more mentally healthy than me struggle with the vast pointless mess of existence for the first time and it’s a trip.

Some tips from the inside, in case they help:

- life has always been pointless. Or rather, we have always been unable to control the relative point-fulness of life. The factors involved in opening the possibilities of who can have a large scale impact where are so insanely complex that they can at best only be pieced together imperfectly in retrospect

- the only thing that has changed is your awareness of this fact. No, seriously. The sun will eventually swallow the planet; at any moment without our knowledge or control the sun could flare in weird ways that will kill us all; etc. There was geopolitical and socioeconomic fuckery as bad or worse going on before: you just didn’t see it. Promise.

- you do what you can with what you have. You do what’s in front of you. Humanity has survived all of this before; it may survive it again. It may not. You can only do what you can: take what lessons exist from the past and apply them.

- sometimes it is just that bad and they are totally out to get you. The question is, what do you do about it?

- almost without exception in human history the answer has been “build community; support the one you have; reach out to connect MORE and to make the world more kind and less hateful than before.”

- recognize you’re trying to tackle god-level problems with a brain originally meant for keeping small proto-fish from being eaten. Treat that part of your brain like a very anxious toddler or rescue pitbull. Give it small measurable victories and successes even if you have to make them up. Make sure it’s fed and watered and has enough rest. Medicate it if you have to - there’s nothing wrong with that. The opposite, in fact.

We are hairless plains apes living in a thin skin of atmosphere between spinning liquid superheated death and the void of absolute cold, sustained by the radiation of a supermassive explosion that will kill us at the slightest excuse. We have always been unlikely and implausible and probably doomed which means every moment we are able to live, thrive and help others do so is an incredible victory. Don’t quit now. ❤️

[placeofunderstanding]

Holy fuck I needed this

[sasra-scrapyard]

Kindle the Light, Shelter the Light, Protect the Light, Be the Light.

We can none of us save the world alone, we can only save each other: by thus is the world saved.  Everyone helps someone.

[hazel2468]

BTW, this is why I decided to go into policy work. Because therapy is MAD important, but when you are dealing with a client who is not having their basic needs met, therapy won’t do shit. 

So my friend can counsel her individual clients while I go out and try to alter the systems that put so many ppl in shitty places. And it works (hopefully, and probably rlly slowly, but you know)

[spillywolf-deactivated20190920]

If courage isn’t the absence of fear but doing the right thing regardless of it, maybe confidence isn’t the absence of insecurity but knowing you have real worth despite it

[oncemylove-deactivated20180625]

this is beautiful

[randomslasher]

By this same token, maybe goodness isn’t the absence of bad thoughts or impulses, but the conscious choice to behave according to your moral ideals in spite of them. 

[chery]

bro stop saying in order to be truly loved u have to subjectify yourself to the mortifying ordeal of being known ur scaring the hoes

[brainscrewz]

i have some goblin opinions and you will read them. i hate bras. if i ever meet g*d i'm going to bite him. i think humans should be able to see more colors. iceberg lettuce is tasty. collec.t beach glass. it's good to be naked sometimes. no gods no masters just the animalistic needs and wants of flesh. don't pet crocodiles but it is understandable to want to. throwing sand at peoples' eyes is not cheating if it's self defense. chew your nails and dress like shit.

[hxasinthus]

being naked is not sexy. wearing a white 18th century shirt with poofy sleeves tucked into a pair of black high waisted trousers is sexy. there are no exceptions

[biff-donderglutes]

Bro why is being perceived such an ordeal

[fortooate]

[ka3l]

just go enjoy your life, 

[mohala-sumiko]

Mad Max told a story about sexual violence and survivorship without relying on rape scenes to impress upon the audience how *serious* things were.

instead of watching the abuse on screen, we hear about it through the interactions between the wives. they tell us what happened, and in that way they take control of their own narrative.

rather than being voyeurs witnessing the wives’ trauma played out onscreen, we were an audience listening to their story.

and that makes a world of difference.

[scarlettohairdye]

THIS THIS THIS.

[jcalvinist]

So instead of showcasing the specific treatment we were told of it, which is the contrary philosophy of most filmmaking (show, don’t tell)

[mohala-sumiko]

or they made the decision to not sensationalize and fetishize the rape and brutalization of women. and in doing so spared the feelings of thousands of trauma survivors in their audience.

but whatever, film theory 101.

[smitethestate]

“Show don’t tell” is for FUCKING AMATEURS. 

[mad-madam-m]

This statement:

“So instead of showcasing the specific treatment we were told of it, which is the contrary philosophy of most filmmaking (show, don’t tell)”

demonstrates a fundamental misunderstanding of the idea behind “show, don’t tell.” I would argue that Mad Max: Fury Road DOES show us how the Wives were treated by Immortan Joe. However, it chooses not to do so in the obvious way (which would be showing the abuse), but rather by showing us in other ways.

We’re shown the message the Wives leave behind: “We are not things,” from which we can infer that’s exactly how they’ve been treated for God knows how long.

We’re shown that they wear flimsy white fabric that leaves their bodies on display, unlike pretty much everybody else in the film.

We’re shown them using boltcutters to rid themselves of chastity belts, devices which pretty much exist solely to remove a woman’s ability to choose her sexual partners.

We’re shown rage from the Dag when, even though time is of the essence, she takes the time to run back and kick one of the discarded belts as hard as she can before running back to join the others at the War Rig.

We’re shown Angharad using her pregnant body to shield Max and Furiosa from Immortan Joe, because she knows beyond a shadow of a doubt he won’t shoot her or her unborn child because he still views her as his property.

We hear Furiosa’s “Remember me?” before she kills Joe, and there’s so much fury and anger in those two words that you know she was a Wife before she was an Imperator.

We ARE shown what happened to the Wives. The issue lies in thinking that the only way to show that they were abused is to show the abuse itself. And as MM:FR demonstrates, that isn’t the case.

[clownsuggest]

clown costume on, third eye stapled shut, lets do this ladies

[horse-hamartias]

perhaps THE adhd mood: 

[sangled]

a tip for writing female characters: don’t be afraid to make her feral. just absolutely batshit. her actual intelligence? that can vary. but bring out the chaotic stupid tendencies. embrace her as a one brain cell enemy of the state

[androphilia]

The Body Remembers Everything by Caleb Hahne, 2019

Mixed media on canvas 24 × 18 in / 60.96 × 45.72 cm