we do what we must…I think

Nothing like bursting into tears of frustration for a few minutes to…discover why what makes you tick does so?

I guess…I like what I like in the bedroom, and romantically, and hell, even just on a platonic level, really, because I’m…I’m not inept. I don’t believe that. I am, not innately, inept. I have a sickness that imitates ineptness, but I am not an inept person. When I’m healthy, I can manage the heck out of my stuff; I’ve proven that time and time again. I am not naturally apathetic or listless.

know who I am. I am the summer girl. She is not someone else.
But I can’t be who I am with this strangling phantom on my back, no matter how hard I try.
(“I tried to tame this mind, you better believe that I have tried to beat this…”)

I am the way I am because I’m forced into powerlessness, in so many aspects of my life. Not all of them, no, but a fair few. Too many to be healthy, and there’s just no way out. If the stranglehold isn’t emotional, it’s financial, which is a thousand times more powerful than anything anyone else says. The only people who would disagree are people who have money and never have to worry about it.

It’s not having power over someone. It’s having power. To protect, to give pleasure, to love, to be motherly, whatever. It’s not a selfish power, it’s just power because I have so little. No, not even power, just…agency, I suppose. It’s things I can’t do because I’m so…so fragile and broken, everyone’s little sister. People can be more than a decade younger than me, literally, and they’re so much older than me. Time left me behind.

Is this how Time Lords feel? Or are they made to deal with it?

I’m so tired. It’s migraine pills and crying talking, I know, but it’s still there. I can’t remember the last time I felt alive; it must have been before Christmas. (Though, to be fair, I can’t remember anything, ha.)

I wish I knew how to stop all this, but I think there’s only one way…

“…I was exhausted, and unhappy, sick and lonely and dancing with razorblades too often. So I severed the guy-wires that kept me suspended and swayed in the wind….”

the Moon always rises, eventually

Depression will not will not will not stop me from getting this beloved project off the ground.

Fourteen-year-old me created Rio and the girls despite depression, current me will create their true story despite depression. I did it once, when I was younger — before I even knew any of the people who shaped my heart and my life, before my oneechan, for God’s sake — I can do it again. I can do it now, with all those people behind me.

And a better soundtrack! (笑)

she…she may have a point there…

Alex: “Soooo…Lynch and the Wire have the same birthday.”
Yrs Truly: “Yup. You celebrate David Lynch’s birthday by doing something weirdly creative! That makes such wonderful perfect sense.”
Alex: “Heh, and attempting transcendental meditation?”
Yrs Truly: “I don’t see why the heck not.”
Alex “‘The heck’, you’re a massive dork…what do you do to celebrate Nicky’s birthday?”
Yrs Truly: “Eh, I dunno. Piss an’ moan about something and let it be known that you have a POLITICS DEGREE, YOU KNOW. Probably.”
Alex: *in tears of laughter* XD XD
Yrs Truly: “Look, I’m just sayin’!”
Alex: “I can tell how much you love someone by either how soft you are over them, or how absolutely and frequently you eviscerate them.”
Yrs Truly: *beams* “I really do love Nicky.”
Alex: “I GUESSED BY THE ABUSE.”

ニ〇々Q

“Some nights I just sit back here, I remember,
I just remember, before it all got lost up in the mess…”

I can recognise the turning point…the beginning of the out of control spiral.

it’s been so long. surely something needs to give, soon? there must be a way back. or out.

after the freeze

The stuff that makes me break out in a cold sweat has to be seen/parsed to be believed.

I’ll just sit here and sip my coffee until the nausea and the jelly-like feeling in my limbs subsides, while having a screaming argument with my own id about what is and isn’t good/true.

(Also, apparently nobody can agree whether PTSD is permanent or temporary. So this might be happening for the rest of my life…then again, it might not! How very jolly.)

Akayoroshi’s key themes

  • reincarnation is imprecise and complicated
  • time travel is even worse
  • love can be just as complicated as reincarnation
  • friendship is painful and hard work
  • hope springs eternal. keep fighting.

I suppose it is, essentially, a hopepunk piece of work, and really, I’m okay with that. But what separates me from other hopepunk writers is that I believe that the element of ‘eucatastrophe‘ is essential in my own hopepunk works. Maybe it’s just how I grew up, or the people I grew up with (T and neechan come to mind sharply), but there is no point to suffering if it doesn’t result in an ease from suffering at some point. Then it’s just…suffering porn. Which is beyond tasteless, to me. And yet seems to sell like hotcakes. Cough, Game of Thrones TV, cough cough.

I don’t care what sells, though. I have to write what’s in me, and a lot of that is hopeful. I’m not going to be ashamed of that. Ever.

Hope!!