#thought bucket

[sentfromwolves]

oh to come back to your own tumblr after a hundred years with a broom and a dust pan and try to muster up the energy to get back to work. but here we are 🧹🧹🧹

[im-just-here-for-cake]

This weekend I get a resurgence in my batman obsession (more specifically the batfam)

And also Tim Drake comes out as a bisexual this weekend

[im-just-here-for-cake]

It still baffles me that when I speak/post something people can and do see it.

Like woah, people percieve me?

[write-my-words]

Small music scene problems

Mood: don't play with me

Music: computer fans and a water fountain

Lol. Lmao. So I am just in a mood where I... haven't many fucks to give. Like, I'm not going to be mean or anything but my appetite for coddling other people is just not really there.

My partner's band put out a single today. I made the props for their visualizer video-- did a pretty fun job of it if I do say so myself. Hand-drawn. Took me a few hours.

The video gets shared in our group chat. Someone compliments it. My partner says that I made the props. More compliments. His bandmate, one of our dear friends (not sarcasm! Promise, I do love him) says "I feel like an asshole, I forgot to mention [me] in the social media posts with the video."

And I said "Don't worry, I'm used to it."

Bandmate: "That makes me feel worse."

Me: "Twas but a jape"

Him: 😟

Me: 🤷‍♀️

He (inadvertently I hope) did the thing I hate where he has done me wrong and then makes a comment about it and... I look like an asshole for not assuaging HIS feelings? Bruh.

I have been with my partner for going on 15 years. The band has existed for about 14 years. I have done SO MUCH for this band, from show posters to the logo they used for half of their existence to working the merch table for the whole show. The closest I've gotten to anything so much as "paid in exposure" is that sometimes they like the comments I leave on their posts on social media. I don't even always get into the shows for free. SOMETIMES this same bandmate even says shit about my work that comes across as a little degrading-- saying that he'd have his artist wife do it but "we couldn't afford her" or agreeing with criticisms of my work by other artists (that they are PAYING A WAGE to) who are making new art/logos/etc. One time an artist criticized my logo because it made their one-word name look like two words and they made a big show of being like "yeah, yeah, huge problem, gotta fix that" and THEN THEY CHANGED THE BAND NAME SO THAT IT HAD CHARACTERS BETWEEN THE TWO WORDS SO IT *WAS* TWO SEPARATE WORDS! WHAT EVEN.

I don't know why I keep doing things for their band. Part of it is that I realize that it's an excuse to pull out my craft supplies and do something creative. Sometimes it's just that my partner is begging me for help and I can't stand to see him look disappointed at the thought he might not get to see his dreams come to life.

Writing this all out is making me realize that, when put that way, it is a really shitty way to treat someone who has done a lot for you. God forbid, I would never.

And so I won't coddle or apologize. I might have made a quip that makes said bandmate feel like an asshole, and some people might see me as the asshole for making the quip, but fuck it, I guess.

And like, it sucks because I can't openly discuss my feelings about this or it could be taken as being unsupportive of or even trying to start shit for/"cancel" the band. I don't want that. I don't want any retribution. I care about these people and I want them to do well. I just want to vent to someone who isn't my partner who would be like "yeah dawg, that's butts".

So here, I'll say it for myself: yeah dawg, that IS butts.

[write-my-words]

thoughts to share, eventually

Mood: contemplative

Music: moisture

I've been imagining conversations in my head again, rotating them like a 3D rendering in my head. The threads of ideas stay the same, but the gossamer strands of conceptualization change a little each time I dive in.

So. Here's The Thing. I have spent so much time thinking about you, about me, about us. In the time of silence, here's what I found most devastating: through all the years, there were dozens of times that I was told there were things you had said or written for me or about me. I almost always found out about what you were feeling--especially the things regarding me, the most personally impactful things, the things that carried me through some very hard times-- by way of other people. Sometimes friends, often strangers, occasionally from a version of yourself that you didn't know existed. I was and am grateful and endeared to most of them for this gift of knowledge, and I kept thinking that one day if I could do enough it would form the key that would unlock a door to freer communication between us.

The problem with this is that when you aren't the one sharing things, you have no opportunity to add your own flavor to the way the messages come across to other people. For as much as I was heartened by the shared words of some, I was wounded by others. Because of the lack of communication between us, I didn't feel comfortable sharing these things. An example: on multiple occasions, the way that Jen phrased things made me feel like perhaps I was seen as a second-rate version of her, a handy placeholder for her eventual return to your life. I have enough problems with self-doubt that this was not hard to believe-- and, to be completely honest, with the way things ended up going from my view, to this day I have a hard time convincing myself that my feeling was wrong.

Why does this matter to me now, so many years and a different life later? Because I want to believe that all of the effort I put in meant anything to anyone but me. Because I poured so much of myself over so many years with such earnestness that a metaphorical pat on the head just doesn't sit right with me. Because I am trying to learn the valuable difference between being entitled and recognizing what you earned. Because I have to heal too. I want to know everything you ever said or thought or wrote about me or to me or with me in mind. I don't care if the words were imperfect or didn't capture everything. It would have meant so much to see the effort in the works in progress. I want to know that I meant something in some deeper way. I want to know that it wasn't as easy as it looked to let go of my presence over and over again.

You say you dreamt of a future where you would come across some means to repay me for my kindness. It sadly seems like you never really internalized that you've always carried it. Historically, it comes with mighty difficulty for you to part with. I understand that, but unfortunately, if you want to pay, that's the real price.

[write-my-words]

presenting with much commentary: my family

mood: exasperated

music: the line - mood rings

It was my birthday yesterday. I'm just on the other side of my mid-thirties and part of working on myself means understanding when the way I'm being treated is Abnormal and/or Not Okay.

My mom's side of the family are what I like to describe as Duck Dynasty conservatives. We're from the wrong part of the country for "true" rednecks but that's what they have always been, through and through, even though they live ten minutes out of a midsize city (that they hate). They are complete teetotalers-- they think that if you have so much as an airplane-size bottle of booze in your house, you're an alcoholic who will surely lose your job, your home, and die an early and miserable death. (In fairness we do have a family history of crippling alcoholism. For all her problems, my mom has never been an alcoholic and does drink very occasionally, we just never ever tell anyone else in her family.) They are also nosy and will open cabinets and drawers and refrigerators. My partner and I have a fair amount of guests over and we have a sizeable bar with a mini fridge-- some stuff we buy and some stuff is left after a party. I have not had a housewarming or even a casual get together inviting them to my house because it is A Lot Of Work to disassemble all that into boxes, hide it somewhere away from prying eyes, and make the remaining area look natural. My mom is pushy, thin-skinned and loves to assume the worst possible intentions so she has given me a lot of flak and guilt tripping ("after everything I and my family have done for you...") about me not having had them over.

So, in Saturday my partner and I had a birthday party with my friends. I had a great time showered with much love and care of a bunch of amazing people I know. My mother knew this was happening and did not come (she wasn't invited lmao). I woke up yesterday and busted ass to clean up the kitchen. My partner did a lot of tidying and picking things up. My mom pressured us to have people over for cake after our planned dual birthday dinner (hers is three days after mine). We had to do a full sweep to put away all the alcohol and all evidence of alcohol being present the night before. She drives but hates to do it to go anywhere but the grocery store or the doctor's office, so ON MY BIRTHDAY we were having to go pick her up and would have to leave our own house after everyone else left to drop her off afterwards. Do you think she offered to go to the store and pick up a basic ass cake, or to make one? Nay, friend, nay. WE HAD TO MAKE THE TIME TO DO THAT TOO.

Then, today. My father calls me. I have a fraught relationship with him too for different reasons. I didn't talk to him yesterday and I missed his call today. He had ignored that I had said I was going to make plans to celebrate with him and my aunt when I was available. He was annoyed that I hadn't answered his calls because he assumed we were getting dinner today although nothing of the sort had been agreed to. He answered the phone being snarky, then got mad that his public housing apartment was forcing them to report assets and income (YOU FUCKING VOTED FOR THIS YOU VOTED FOR THIS YOU COULD HAVE LISTENED TO ANY NEWS OTHER THAN BRAINROT YOUTUBE FOR THE LAST YEAR YOU WERE COMPLICIT IN THIS AND YOU THOUGHT YOU WOULD BE SPARED AS A WHITE MAN AAAAAAAAAAA). He also went on a tirade about meeting a guy who prays to Mary and the saints at his CATHOLIC CHURCH (YOU WERE BORN AND RAISED CATHOLIC YOU WENT TO CATHOLIC SCHOOL YOU HAD TO DO THE ROSARY WHY DO YOU GO TO A CATHOLIC CHURCH WHEN YOU REALLY JUST WANT TO BE AN EVANGELICAL PROTESTANT THIS IS CATHOLICISM THIS IS LITERALLY WHAT YOU ARE AGREEING TO WHEN YOU GO TO THEIR CHURCH AAAAAAAAAAAA). First time he has talked to me since my birthday and he didn't say happy birthday one time and just got mad about stuff during the half hour phone call.

Anyway my family is bananas, my friends are cool and I'm so glad I have them. Recording these memories because I've discovered it's vindicating when I have those moments where I'm gaslighting myself.

[write-my-words]

i collect the best people

mood: fond

music: gold guns girls - metric

Doing some thinking about various friends lately. Not just the one I keep talking about. I do so much thinking about the people I know. I'll spill my thoughts about some of them here even though nobody knows about this place.

G: I'm so glad I still know him. I almost didn't after he fucked up big time at one party. It takes a lot to piss me off that bad but he's the only person I know that got me to get in his face screaming at him. He's grown up a lot since then. He kept enough of his unpredictability to give his personality an edge but lost the parts that made me wary of him. He's very loveable and I do love the way his mind works.

Mugmug: She doesn't know how to be anyone but pure undistilled Her, and she is unapologetic about it. As she should be. Being around her is good for me and I'm glad I lived with her for a couple years even when being roommates wasn't easy. She can be opinionated but she's not a jackass about it... To me, anyway. Extremely good heart and laughs easily. She doesn't deserve any of the hardship she went through and it fills my heart to know she has many wonderful deep attachments that she deserves.

Sammi: She and I have clicked almost since the moment we met, there's parts of her that rub me the wrong way but I just don't feed them. I can tell that her insecurities run deep but she handles it by constantly bragging in a way that rings hollow. She's so good at what she does though, and she's gorgeous. I can only tell her that in the right moments because it becomes less significant if I say it at a time that just plays into her false bravado.

Kat: She's so pleasant to be around. She tries her best to handle things with kindness even though she's been hurt a lot too. I'm glad she's working on herself, because things looked concerning there for a little while. She still needs to get out more. I love talking to her, the conversation flows like water.

[write-my-words]

if someone asked me "why?"

mood: loving

music: clink clink clink

If someone asked me "why are you still excited to talk to him? Why do you still imagine meeting up with him again and giving him a big hug? Why do you still look for this after all the pain you carried in your heart? After spending the whole summer processing it? You're married with a house and job and surrounded by great friends? Why do you even care about him at all? After hearing nothing for almost a decade???"

I've thought about this. Contemplated it. I think it's because no matter what became of the evolution of our relationship, sometime a very long time ago, I accepted him as family.

When I accept someone as my chosen family: I don't give up on you. I try to avoid doing anything that I think would hurt you. For the most part we do things that would make each other proud. When you're not around, I keep you close to my heart. I will always have a listening ear and a big hug for you. If we do hurt each other, we don't walk away, we work it out. We can show ugliness, we can be honest about it. We can talk about things. I might get upset. You might get upset. When we don't have contact a piece of my heart is missing. We're still family at the end of it all. So yeah, I'm still attached. Always will be.

I hope he responds so I can tell him this myself. He might think I'm crazy. But I hope he realizes that I'm family too.