You see a sentence
written in cyrillic. Some of the letters are familiar. You see the
meaning shimmering underneath the surface. You almost grasp it, but it slips away. The letters on the page mock you silently.
You know this Czech word. You’ve already learnt it in Polish. It is not the same word. It is a grave insult. Your slavic friends are shocked and embarassed for you when they hear you speak it.
There is a sentence in
Croatian. There is a sentence in Serbian. There is a sentence in
Bosnian. They are all the same sentence.
You have to write about your day in Slovak. You spend the night polishing the draft. You fail your assigment. It’s written in Czech. You don’t know Czech.
P is not what it seems. You have to remember that.
The Croatian sentence
does not mean what the Bosnian sentence means. They both mean the same in Serbian.
That word has a diminutive. The diminutive has its own diminutive. The diminutive of the diminutive also has a diminutive. Nobody knows what the final diminutive of a word is. Some say the knowledge had been lost in centuries past and matrioshkas are the echo, the tangible warning left for us to remember. No living creature should hold the means of diminishing something into nonexistence. Others say you may still find some of them in old soviet textbooks, if you dare to look in abandoned schools of Chernobyl.
Someone is speaking to you. Is that a he or a she? You aren’t sure. It’s an abstract concept. Why does it have gender.
You see a word in a
dictionary. It has seventeen letters and only one vowel. You close the dictionary very carefully not
looking at the phonetic transcription. The shape of it haunts you in
your sleep. You wake
up face damp with tears, a bitter taste on your tongue. The clock blinks 3:03AM. You do not dare look up that word again.
This word means the
same thing in the five slavic languages you’re familiar with. You use
it in the sixth one. That word does not exist in this language. It never
did. There is now a word-shaped void in the fabric of this language.
The natives look at you uneasily. There is a new quality to the silence and your palms start to sweat.
H is not H. H is not H. H is not H. H is not H.
One day you flip through your dictionary. A page is missing. What was the word? You can’t remember. There is pressure building at the back of your head. The clock blinks 3:03AM.
You write my name
is in cyrillic. There are shadows dancing on the walls. They grow
longer with each letter you write down. It is not cyrillic you’re
using. You keep writing my name is. The shadows now bleed from
the tip of your pen. It’s irrelevant. You need to remember the right
N is not N is not N is
not N is not N is not N is not N is not N is not N is not N is not N
is not… If only you could remember the letters. The letters are important. What was it, that wasn’t N?
There are nine different prefixes
you can add to a verb to change its meaning. There are fifty three different suffixes you have to add to a verb to make it
work. In the end the only thing left of the original is a vague shape
of one of its middle consonants.
You can feel the anguish radiating from the verb’s mutialted form. A desperate sob escapes through your clenched teeth.
You’re so, so sorry, you didn’t meant to. You didn’t. It doesn’t matter.
You now read a text in
Russian. You’ve never learnt Russian. Why are you reading that text? The words burn your eyes,
the meaning searing your mind.
There’s a shot of vodka in front of
you. You don’t drink alcohol. You don’t care. All existence is
meaningless, your soul’s in eternal pain. A broken matrioshka lays at your feet. There is no salvation, she says boring into your eyes. You open your mouth to answer, but there is only a burst of harsh rustle. It dies in whispering echoes a moment later. Your glass is empty again.
Sometimes I hate being trans. A lot of the time, actually. While everyone else is moving forward, you’re feel like you’re waiting, waiting, waiting. For the next GIC appointment. For hormones to show any effect. For surgery. For the next surgery. For forms and reports and assessments to be filled out.
These things take weeks, months, years. Whole parts of your life get eaten away on waiting lists for services that are already stretched to their limit. And all the time you want everything to stop - to right itself in some magical overnight miracle. You spend nights crying and asking ‘why me?’ Why am I the one who has to be stuck here?
But you will get there. I promise you. Nobody knows patience like us trans folk. We have to be strong, mentally, emotionally and physically, because we are forced to be by our very nature. It’s something huge to bear and it’s okay if you’re not always okay. It isn’t fun, and it isn’t fair. And it’s okay to grieve - for being born with the wrong parts, or for all the times that your body restricted you in life - for the things you wish you had. Grieve if you need to.
There is light and dark to everything in life. Being trans is no exception. Keep going. Wait and fight and grieve and celebrate and live -in the way that only we trans people know how.
Friendly reminder Steve Rogers is one of the youngest Avengers out of the group.
Friendly reminder that Steve Rogers was only 21 when he went through the super soldier experimentation.
Friendly reminder that when Steve Rogers was awoken in the modern century, for him it had only been a few weeks since he had lost Bucky.
Friendly reminder that Steve Rogers is only in his mid-twenties and still does everything he can to take care of those around him.
Friendly reminder that Steve Rogers has PTSD and severe depression, as shown in several of the movies and comics per his suicidal tendencies.
Friendly reminder that almost everyone Steve Rogers knew in 1943 was dead when he woke up, and he was faced with the ideal that he had outlived everyone he loved.
Friendly reminder that Steve Rogers still needs to make mistakes and be selfish, and still deserves to be loved and cherished. He isn’t like Iron Man or Hawkeye, he’s not lived any sort of life only battle and carnage. He deserves to have someone look after him everyone once and awhile.
about shiro not backing keith’s story in bom: i think there’s other factors that a lot of people overlook. namely, the fact that shiro’s response isn’t just him reacting to an isolated incident–its him finally putting together the pieces after a long time of dealing with constant doubt and concern. because he knows something’s up with keith. in season 2, he’s the only one that does. on two separate occasions, he takes keith aside and tries to talk to him, to ask him what’s wrong, to try and get him to open up. and every time keith shuts him out? you can see the fear on shiro’s face, can see that he feels like they’re slowly drifting apart and he’s losing keith
these two strike me as friends who probably used to tell each other everything. so the fact that keith is refusing to talk now, that he’s forcing this distance between them? shiro doesn’t know what to think. and when he sees keith has this alien knife and is maybe part galra? maybe isn’t even from earth at all? shiro is very quickly finding out that this person he’s very close to, someone who he thought he knew everything about, is quite literally becoming alien. his best friend is suddenly a stranger, and he’s questioning whether he ever even knew him at all
looking at shiro’s face here, he looks just as panicked as keith. despite how good he is at improvising and acting, he doesn’t even have it in him to scrape together an excuse or cover story. he’s genuinely shocked, and just blurts the words out without thinking. “I…I don’t know”–he hesitates, stumbles. he’s seeing the person he thought he was really close to in a whole new light, and he doesn’t know how to handle it
and keith? when he’s down on the ground, the first thing he says is “Shiro, you know me.” becuase he’s trying desperately to bridge that gap, to make shiro see–to prove that, even if keith’s going through some shit, even if he doesn’t know who he himself is, he hasn’t changed. the person shiro knew is still the same.
also, look at shiro’s face after that exchange. that doesn’t look like someone who just sold out or distrusts their friend. he takes the time to look at keith and kinda check in, to see how vulnerable and scared he looks (scared because he thinks shiro doesn’t trust him)
before he goes right back to glaring and confronting the bom
he then tells keith theyre leaving and starts walking away. he realizes there’s some kind of conflict here between keith and the bom, so he tries to separate them. if he really didnt trust his friend, he would’ve insisted he either 1 hand over the knife or 2 started asking a bunch of personally invasive questions–after all, this is the person that insisted on morally grey mind control interrogation to extract information from a galra.
instead, he sees how honestly hurt and confused keith looks, so he gives him some space and tries to quickly remove him from the situation
and when keith insists on staying? shiro’s worried look in the background there? even if he doesn’t understand what’s been going on with keith all this time, he’s clearly concerned, clearly cares. he backs off a bit and let’s keith say his piece, because he realizes just how much all this means to him. shiro doesn’t interfere again until after he hears keith’s life will be on the line, and immediately tries to get him out of there
he goes right up to keith’s side when he tries to reason with him, and we get a repeat of that shoulder touch thing these two do so much. shiro especially does this to keith a lot, and it honestly seems like a kind of grounding thing. he reaches out to keith, tries to tell him that whatever’s going on his life isn’t worth it, holds onto him to offer some kind of comfort. the way shiro tries to convince him here reminds me a lot of that thing joaquim said in an interview, about how “shiro is sort of the only thing that can really calm him down and keep him in check.” shiro very much tries to do that here, sees that keith is angry and upset and tries to keep him from making a reckless decision.
was shiro really taken aback and hurt initially? i think so, yes. but once he kinda has a bit of time to recover and think things through he’s still thinking of keith and trying to help him as best he can–this is also why he doesn’t try to stop him again until it’s absolutely necessary, because he respects keith’s volition and understands the importance of that autonomy. when push comes to shove, regardless of the situation, shiro still steps up to protect keith