dear cara

anonymous asked:

can you please write some more young tom being to raised by rafeal and angie

Of course I can! I had a lot of fun with this one! I hope you enjoy it! I really liked writing it and I hope you like it, I liked this au!


“He got into a fight?” Angie asked. The principle nodded. Tom was sitting in between Angie and Rafael. “He’s only eight! Can eigth-year-olds even get into fights?” She asked. The principle nodded.

“Yes they can and he did.” He told her. “Tom and another student named Timothy Greeley sort of… had it out on the playground.” He explained.

“Tom, what happened?” Rafael asked. Tom looked down. “Tom?” He asked again, in more a stern voice.

“I hit him.” He mumbled.

“You hit him?” Angie asked, appalled.

“Not before I bit him.” Tom looked down and Angie and Rafael exchanged looks.

“You bit him!” Rafael exclaimed. The principle got up and made his way to the door.

“I’ll give you a moment to have a word with your… Tom.” He tried. Angie shook her head at this. It didn’t matter that he was a demon, he was still their son. “I’ll be back in a moment to discuss the rest.” He assured them.

“I can’t believe you bit him!” Rafael cried. “Tom! Why on earth would you ever-” Rafael was cut off when Tom spoke in a quiet voice.

“People treat me different.” He whispered. Angie and Rafael both fell silent and thought for a long moment, before Angie put her arms around her adopted son and gave him a kiss on the head. She brushed his bangs out of his face so she could see his third eye.

“That’s just because they don’t know what to say.” She told him. “Promise me, Tom, no more fighting.” She told him. Tom nodded and the principle came back in.

“Are we finished in here?” He asked. Angie nodded and he made his way back to his desk. “Tom, please wait for us outside.” HE requested. Tom nodded and left the room. The principle sighed and looked back at the parents. “There’s… no easy way to say this.” He started. “But this is the second time Tom has had his behavior reported for being… violent.”

“Are you talking about the time he set the desk on fire?” Angie asked. “It wasn’t his fault! He didn’t mean to, he ignites when he gets nervous, we’re working our hardest to help him control it.” She assured.

“It doesn’t matter if it was or wasn’t his fault. All we know is it happened. And people…” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Some are becoming concerned about how well a human family can raise a demon child.” He told them

“What are you saying?” Rafael asked, fear seeping into his voice.

“We got social services involved and… we of course are going to give you a fair evaluation but… as of now, most of those on the board and other parents agree it’s best for Tom to go to a home where he can be with his own kind.” He explained.

“You can’t do that!” Angie cried. “What, because a few parents claimed we can’t raise Tom you’ll take him away!?” She was almost near tears.

“Of course not, Mrs. Diaz!” The principle assured. “But we have to treat every complaint seriously. Or else children may remain in toxic homes. And because of the fight with Timothy, a social service agent was requested to perform a home visit, just to make sure Tom is flourishing in that environment.” He gave them the contact information. “They will be there this saturday afternoon, mostly to talk to Marco about living with Tom, and to Tom about his current living arrangement.”

——————————————————————————————————————————–

Saturday came all too soon. Angie and rafael were nervous, but the children didn’t really understand the full complexity of the situation. Tom and Marco were playing on the floor as Angie and Rafael were trying to to fight because of this event. “Are they really going to take you away?” Marco asked. Tom shook his head.

“I don’t think so.” He mumbled. The boys kept playing when their parents let a woman inside. They watched her go into the kitchen with Angie and Rafael, and heard light talking before Angie called out.

“Tom? Sweetie, can you come in here?” She asked. Tom got up and walked into the kitchen. “Tom, dear. This is Cara, she’s got a few questions for you.” Angie gently pushed him forward and Tom watched the woman closely.

“Are you the girl that’s gonna take me away?” He asked. Angie bit her lip.

“Don’t worry about that, Tom.” Cara told him. “Let’s talk about you. Are you happy?” She asked. Tom nodded and smiled big. “Do you enjoy school?” She asked. Tom’s smile went away and he rocked on his heels.

“Not really, the other kids call me names.” He told her honestly. Cara write something down and continued.

“I heard about the fight with Timothy.” She stated. Tom gasped and clamped up a little. “Tom, can you tell me exactly what happened?” She asked. Tom shook his head. “I just want to help.” She told him. Tom just shook his head again. “Tom please.” She asked. Cara reached her hand out to touch the boy’s shoulders and Tom hissed, his eyes lit up and he ignited.

“I said NO!” He screamed at her. Cara fell back and gasped at the flaming boy. Tom cried and put his hands over his ears.

“He burnt me.” Cara gasped.

“We are so sorry!” Angie cried. “Please don’t think bad of him he just… he doesn’t like to be touched.” She explained. Cara got up and put her clipboard in her purse. “Please! Miss Cara he just… doesn’t like to be touched.” Angie repeated.

“And why not?” She demanded. “A child at age eight shouldn’t be so closed off from physical contact.” She told her.

“Tom isn’t like other kids!” Angie explained.

“You’re right, he’s not.” Cara agreed. “He’s a demon, and belongs in a home with people who can raise him as such.” She told the mother, gave a nod, and left the house.

Angie and her husband stayed staring at the door for a long while. Rafael had Tom in his arms to help calm him down. When Tom was better, he looked up at Angie’s scared face and got a sick feeling in his stomach.

“Did I do something wrong?” He asked, quietly.

“You burnt Miss Cara.” Angie told him.

“It wasn’t his fault, Angie.” Rafael reminded her. “He just, has trouble getting close. It wasn’t his fault.” He repeated. He put his hand on his wife’s shoulder and smiled. “We’ll take care of this, I promise.”

Cara professoressa, mi scusi se la disturbo a così tarda ora, ma proprio ci tenevo a scriverle due righe.
Sono consapevole che il nostro rapporto non è dei migliori, posso capire che, conoscendomi da poco, non abbia ancora appreso chi davvero voglio essere e chi davvero sono.
Oggi a scuola mi ha domandato se ho un idolo, qualche super eroe.
Li per li non le ho saputo rispondere, chissà, forse per paura?
Probabilmente non le interessa, ma io amo la pelle d'oca, quando è causata da qualcosa che amo, che mi piace.
Gli unici due uomini, in grado di farmi sentire così, sono entrambi molto, molto distanti da me.
Il primo è Giuseppe Ungaretti, accidenti.
Il secondo è Alessandro Baricco.
Cos'è ciò che provo per loro?
Amore. Vero e proprio amore.
Lei si starà chiedendo come io mi sia innamorata di loro, e perché proprio di loro: le posso rispondere che mi sarei potuta innamorare di chiunque, ma scelsi loro, per lo stato d'animo triste e fragile che nascondono dietro alle righe di ciò che scrivono.
Le può sembrare strano, ma è così che mi sento io.
Avrei sempre desiderato fare la scrittrice, per potermi aprire con il resto del mondo, e loro sono la mia cosiddetta ispirazione. Spero che questa lettera le abbia fatto cambiare idea sul mio conto, e che le abbia dimostrato almeno minimamente, che non sono la classica ragazzina presuntuosa, superficiale e vuota che crede di aver davanti tutte le mattine.
Le auguro una buona serata ed un buon risveglio,
Con immenso affetto,
Martina.
—  Amamiancoraunavolta
Cara P. - Lettere d’amore prestampate

Cara P.,
Sollevi il problema del giudizio, e forse hai ragione. Quanto di questo amore è autoriferito? Quanto è vanità? Non lo so, sono troppo poco intelligente per dire una percentuale più o meno corretta.
Poi c'è il problema della comunicazione. Siamo immersi in un luogo con cui non comunichiamo, se non banalità. E anche noi due parliamo lingue diverse, “l'inglese è la nostra terza lingua”. 

Poi c'è il problema della comunicazione in amore. Forse è un problema solo mio, premetto. Vorrei che il 90% delle cose in amore fossero comunicate in silenzio o al massimo all'orecchio. Ma come dire cose all'orecchio se prima non si dicono alcune cose al tavolino, al bar, con la birra schifosa che pure è così necessaria. E allora quante cose dire, e quali, e con che voce, e in nome di cosa? In nome di qualcosa di più grande, che verrà detto dopo, all'orecchio, certo. Ma ogni cosa detta ad alta voce non potrà più essere sussurrata, tantomeno trasmessa da occhio a occhio, e allora. Non si tratta più di quella storia che è più bello un amore mancato che un amore vissuto. Ormai siamo grandi abbastanza per pensare che il bello fa schifo o comunque fa più male del carino. Ma poi, male.

Abitiamo a 16mila km di distanza, in linea d'aria. Se contiamo le correnti atmosferiche e oceaniche, non c'è un mezzo reale che possa ricongiungerci facendo meno di 20mila km. Forse non mi rendo conto neanche io della distanza. Io, per dire, vorrei che non ci fosse il naso per potersi baciare più da vicino, schiacciarsi sulle guance dell'altro.
Non è retorica, non è orgoglio perché non sei mai venuta a dormire affianco a me: se mi sforzo con tutti i muscoli della testa per un attimo riesco a capire che era meglio così.
Spero che il tuo ritorno vada bene. E i tuoi cani. E il tuo fidanzato, e il tuo lavoro. E il tuo sorriso inappropriato, che forse, devo dire, è la cosa più bella che ho visto a Pechino.

X

This will be a monthly project between myself and dear friend and musician Cara Salimando! After a collaborative discussion of theme, we will be alternating between who creates their works first (as we long distance friendship between LA and NYC), with the other either taking photographs to illustrate the lyrics, or lyrics written to describe the photographs. I’m really excited to work on something that combines my two favorite art forms, with one of my favorite artists and people on Earth. Check back for more April 1st!

Made with SoundCloud
‘Dear White People’

Inspirada no filme homônimo de Justin Simien, lançado em 2014, a série ‘Dear White People’ (Cara Gente Branca) causou polêmica nos Estados Unidos antes mesmo de sua estreia, assim que a Netflix liberou o trailer, gerando uma onda de descurtidas no canal da empresa no Youtube. ‘Dear White People’ foi acusada de incentivar algo como “racismo reverso” - trocando em miúdos, quando o grupo dominante e privilegiado se ressente diante da reação de quem sempre foi oprimido.

“Cara gente branca” é o bordão provocador usado por Samantha White (Logan Browning) para se dirigir ao público do seu programa de rádio, sempre tendo como pauta questões do Movimento Negro linkadas com a rotina universitária: violência policial e apropriação cultural são algumas delas. A estudante negra de Winchester se sobressai como líder e, como costuma acontecer com quem se destaca, tem o próprio comportamento e escolhas expostos ao julgamento dos colegas.

O ponto que desencadeia a trama é uma festa deplorável (black face party) em que os estudantes se fantasiam de personalidades negras, com rostos e corpos pintados.  Depois da confusão que esse evento causa, Samantha sugere fantasias possíveis para uma festa de Halloween: “pirata, enfermeira, qualquer um dos primeiros 43 presidentes americanos…” e adverte: “o topo da lista de fantasias inaceitáveis - eu”.

Sempre atual e complexo, o tema do racismo é tratado de forma clara e direta, mas leve. Dá o seu recado sem deixar de retratar o universo de um campus tipicamente americano com seus encontros e desencontros amorosos, intrigas, festas, excessos e cobranças.

Depois de assistir aos dez primeiros episódios, só resta torcer para que a segunda temporada chegue logo.


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eoi character aesthetics
Cara Moore

“I like the sea: we understand one another. It is always yearning, sighing for something it cannot have; and so am I.”

i don’t know about you, but @caradocdearborn is 22!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY TANYA YOU ACTUAL ANGEL! i am so happy you came into my life and i can’t thank you enough for how incredible you have been to me and how easy you are to talk to and plot with and just be around (in a manner of speaking). i hope you have a super incredible day/night and the best year of your life. don’t worry, 22 isn’t so bad. you’ll smash it, i promise. so much love for you bubs <333

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(ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ*:・゚✧ happy birthday, angelcoulby!