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@morgangoes-blog
my queen
Fuck yeah.
- Hazel
a story about tumblr’s collective ability to fact check
common sense is beyond tumblr, let alone fact checking.
Left hand. Right hand. Left foot. The going was slow, but careful. It was a long way down after all, and if the jagged rocks below didn't kill him, the daggertooth sharks would.
Left hand. Right hand. Right foot. Yoskur wore whale leather gloves with the tips cut off so that the harsh greystone wouldn't cut his calloused palms open, and snug whale leather boots with pointed toes to fit tight into the tiny bumps and crevices in the wall. He wore sealskin greaves but no tunic or cloak, for the mist from the ocean would have saturated them and given him extra weight for his ascent. The only other gear on his person were the roark feathers in his hair, the leather straps around his waist and chest, the pouch at his waist, and the clawed hammers latched to them.
Left hand, right hand, left foot. Yoskur blew a wet strand of raven hair out of his face. he had tied it back for the climb, but the mist and the wind had blown it loose, and now it was curling in his face. he'd have to fix that the next chance he got. Yoskur reached forward and bitterly thanked Vindur for not letting Yoskur grow a proper beard. Climbing was the one time having a patchy mess instead of a proper braid was useful.
Left hand, right hand, right foot. He was two thirds of the way up, now. High above him, the giant roarks soared, silhouetted by the heavy, gray beard of Vindur. Below him, the green hair of Sjo lapped and sprayed the cliff. Obscured by the mist, a battered sloop waited for Yoskur, full of the grim braidbeards. To them, Yoskur supposed he looked like a black worm.
He found a dent in the wall and took a moment to rest. Sjo's crashing had died down. Vindur would be howling soon, but not yet. Right now, the growl and screech of the giant roarks were the most prominent sound. They sounded like cats. great, gray kitty cats with wings 15 feet long, talons as long as daggers, and large, colorful beaks for rending meat.
Yoskur Twotones peered at the sight above him with one gray eye and one green eye, sighed heavily, and continued climbing. stealing eggs from these winged terrors was a really stupid tradition.
[pic is william trost, "cornwall"
my greatest fault, the thing that I do that burns me the most, is putting too much stock in people who put little stock in me. this comes from idealizing others so much.
i'm a pretty solid judge of character when I first meet folk, but only on a sort of large scale. i can tell if someone is generally kind or generally a user. once they pass my simple nice test, i then try to set up little trials to make sure that they don't lie, that they can keep a secret, that they'd pay me back, and that they wouldn't fuck my significant other. once they pass these tests, i pretty much let all of my walls down.
I let my walls down and think OH GOD THIS IS IT I HAVE FOUND MY BEST FRIEND. I HAVE FOUND A COMPANION, SOMEONE WHO WILL HAVE MY BACK, SOMEONE WHO WILL BE AS LOYAL AS I AM TO THEM, SOMEONE I MAY SPEAK FRANKLY WITH.
but realistically speaking that sort of friendship only exists in Disney made for TV movies. I know this, I'm aware of this, but I still have this mental habit.
Because of this mental habit, I get let down a lot.
I should just stick with writing. it's like i always try all these things to make me feel better, they rarely work, and then i break down and go back to writing and I'm back to the person I am.
What would you say the most satisfying and dissatisfying parts of being a teacher are?
I’m going to start with dissatisfying:Teaching is hard. Not only do I have to create engaging lessons for the 100 students I see daily, assess where they’re at academically, push them to grow without overwhelming them, manage personalities in a classroom, deal with the emotional turmoil of teenagers, chase down late work, and grade all the work they do so we can do it again the next week, but I also have to balance that with all the extracurricular activities I’m required to do. Teaching is not for the faint of heart.The most dissatisfying part about teaching is that no one really understands this. Politicians don’t understand it, parents don’t understand it, your friends certainly don’t understand it. And there’s a weird thing that a lot of times administrators don’t understand this. Teaching takes over your mind and your heart and your life and no one wants to hear about it. Your friends don’t want to hear about how Suzy is having trouble grasping this math concept, or how you don’t know what to do because Timmy pulled out his fake ID in the middle of class. I think the reason why the first year teaching is so hard is you start to understand that few non-teachers in your life care what happened today. [And those who do care only care to a certain point!]. You’re working a job that is one of the most difficult in the world and the only thing anyone can say to you is “good thing you get summers off”. You will feel very alone.But there are moments - rare but rich moments - where it is all worth it. You’ll have a kid that always struggles excitedly show his A paper to his friends. You’ll have students yell your name in excitement at sporting events and tell you they miss your class when they don’t have it anymore. You’ll find notes on your desk and discover Tweets that quote you [in a good way]. You’ll overhear a student counseling their friend with something you said to them one-on-one. You’ll read essays that are so good you’ll swear they’re plagiarized and have the joy of discovering they weren’t. You’ll see a girl get help for her depression because she risked being honest with you. It sounds cheesy only to those who have never experienced it - teaching changes lives. Being a part of life change is immensely satisfying.And even though I cry some nights because of the heart-burden of the students and I eat chocolate some nights because of the burdens of the job, it is all worth it.
"It took me getting into a lot of fights before I was diagnosed with PTSD. I have something called ‘hypervigilance.’ I get really nervous around people. Especially people from the Middle East." "What were some traumatic things that happened to you?" "I was in a vehicle when a mortar round exploded in front of us, and we fell into the crater and got trapped. There was a burning oil rig near us, so it was like being in a microwave. And we couldn’t get out. And I also saw a lot of hanky shit. Mostly from our side. Everyone was really revved up from 9/11. We did a lot of bad things. I saw decapitations, and that was our guys doing it." "What happened?" "We were supposed to bring POW’s back to the base. But instead we gave them a cigarette to calm them down, and told them to get on their knees. One of our guys was 240 lbs, and he’d taken this shovel we’d been issued, and he’d sharpened one of the sides until it was like an axe, and he could take off somebody’s head with two hits." "How many times did you see that happen?" "Three."
"The army stationed me down South when I was younger, and I couldn’t even use the same bathroom as white people. But things have changed so much. The younger generation isn’t nearly as racist. I’ve been sitting here for fifty years. So much has changed. This neighborhood used to be all black. A white person couldn’t even walk down this street. All the races kept to themselves. Now you’ve got Indians talking to Pakistanis, blacks talking to whites, everybody is here and learning from each other’s cultures. I’ve been sitting here for 50 years. Things are getting better."
This job has been excellent practice in jumping headfirst into friendships, forging rapid, powerful bonds with people, and then saying goodbye to them. Perhaps forever. Last night I said goodbye to one of my closest friends I've had here, the first good one I made. He welcomed me, introduced me to people, and made my transition into a group of people painless. I learned a lot from the guy about the world and different points of view. International friendships are like that, I guess. He's not the first goodbye for me. I have a history of them. My best relationships have been torn away like bandages. I hope I've gotten numb to it.
I've been looking for a new job. My job here is alright, but I'm tired of the 20-30 minute commute to see people. It makes friendship an ordeal, and has forced me to be much more hermetic than I care to be. I'll miss the rice fields, the fog, and the cranes, though.
I feel like I've been losing touch with myself. Maybe that's my inherited (albeit mild-ish) seasonal depression. Maybe that's the dissociative nature of my social life weighing in on me. Maybe it's the lack of a positive, meaningful relationship/companionship. But as spring stretches into summer, summer sighs into fall, and fall curdles into winter, so too does winter smile into spring. And maybe I can tap into greater social circles with this upcoming move. Who knows what could happen? If there's one thing that life has taught me, it's that long term planning doesn't *really* exist.
A fear submitted by andthenwemetthelocals for deep-dark-fears.
Am I Good?
We took a vacation to Kentucky, where the subject of this Duck Dynasty guy came up more than once. I’ve never watched Duck Dynasty, and I don’t plan on starting. Unfortunately, watching or not watching are basically the only ways it feels possible to register my displeasure at the comments this guy made, and I really can’t not watch the show any harder than I already am. But, I got to thinking a little bit about why it is I feel I’m a better person than this guy, who I only know from what’s been written about him in the news. And, the conclusion I came to, is that really, I’m probably not a better person than him! I’m kind of a shitty person. But, it’s January 2nd, and it’s the time to make pacts with oneself about ways to be better in the New Year, so maybe this time around instead of trying to do things like lose weight or draw more comics, I’ll make an attempt to be a bit of a less shitty person in the world.
Sometimes I get scribbled* over the state of how people treat each other in modern society. it seems that we can't speak to one other without dripping poison from our tongues. it's to the point where most people not only refuse to listen to other points of view, but actually think that being this bull-headed is something to be proud of.
rather than backing claims with evidence, people fling middle school insults at one another, and every group is guilty of this, from every creed.
can we please stop doing this? Is listening to each other such a chore? in a world where any fact can be checked within seconds from almost anywhere on earth, can we please use something other than aimless emotion in our arguments?
*scribbled. adjective. of or relating to complex, frustrating thoughts or emotions at once. to feel as if your heart or mind is filled with violent scribbling.
I've always liked Thanksgiving because it's about food, family, and being grateful. Nothing else, nothing less. No one argues what it's about. No one gets angry about Thanksgiving. There's never any controversy. Yes, people can talk about the First Peoples and their fate, but no one's actually angry at the holiday itself in the way people are about Halloween and Christmas. To me, Thanksgiving has and always has been about Interdependence. Dependence is relying on someone when they don't rely on you, whether you accept that or not. It's being a burden. Dependence is unhealthy, but thankfully Americans don't value this. People like to point fingers at groups in America and call them dependent, but everyone agrees that dependent is something you don't want to be. Independence is not relying on anyone but yourself for anything. It's a nice sentiment, and it's one that's venerated in America, but it's an idea that-- and here's the kicker, folks-- doesn't exist. It can't exist. But people shoot for it anyway, and that's when it gets unhealthy. I see people all the time saying things like "I don't need nobody but myself," and then they get lonely and wonder why they're single. Both men and women do this, of all races and creeds. It's because we've lifted the idea of Independence up so much that personally, I think our perception of the world is messed up a little. In reality, we need people, and we can't do anything alone. We rely on emotional support from friends and family. We rely on people to do their jobs, and for people to treat us fairly. We rely on the infrastructures and systems we are a part of to work. We rely on our communities to help raise our children. It's a personal belief of mine that we are the sum total of every person we ever meet in our lives, and every experience we ever have, combined into one. This idea is what people mean when they say "America is a melting pot," and it's not just America. It's the world. Everyone is everyone. The food on your plates this Thanksgiving went through a lot to go through your digestive tract. It was scratched out of the ground, cleaned, processed, inspected, shipped, marketed, sold, transported, cooked, and served. This happens to every morsel eaten and every liquid drank every day since you were born. Thanksgiving is a holiday set aside once every year to celebrate Interdependence. Interdependence is another word for love, but on a grand scale. Personally, I think it wouldn't hurt us to acknowledge and embrace this a little bit every day. Maybe then we wouldn't argue so damn much. That's why I encourage you to share your leftovers with your neighbors for #LeftoversDay the day after #Thanksgiving instead of trampling some elderly stocking clerk to death on #BlackFriday. Humble request. Just think about it. -Morgan
The best part of my Monday is walking into kindergarten class after lunch, saying, "Hello, class!" and hearing them reply in unison, "HELLLOOOOO MORRRRGAAAAAAAN!" "How are you today?" "I'M FIIIIIIIIIIINE!" Every Tuesday we film an English morning show. At the end of the morning show I give an English pop quiz. If they know the answer, they can drop the answer in the pop quiz box outside of the English room. If their name is drawn, they get a prize. My favorite part of Tuesday is going to set out the pop quiz box and seeing a sea of kids waiting with frantic eagerness to put their answer in the pop quiz box. I do a big show of yawning and taking my time to actually set it down, and it drives them crazy. My favorite part of Wednesday is that my Mondays and Tuesdays are so jam-packed that it's nice to sit down and breathe for the first time in my week. My favorite part of Thursday is the third graders I teach, who are so excited to play games at the end of class. They yell and giggle and I love teaching them. My favorite part of Fridays is seeing the student who I taught how to read the alphabet from scratch, watching his skill develop, and teaching a second student the alphabet.
New favorite meme: Old Economy Steven