“WEAPONS OF MASS CREATION”
Bianca Green (Uruguay) via Curioos
You wouldn’t think it’s possible, to become addicted to your downfalls, to feel a never-ending dependency on the things that make you cringe and hate yourself. It’s irrational, you tell yourself. There is no logic or sanity behind this. It’s the stuff that makes you lose sleep at night, this always returning to your dark place, this needing to suffer and punish yourself. Whether it’s a need to keep going back to a person that will inevitably break your heart, this tendency to sabotage your diet and work-out plans when you’re shedding those pounds like crazy, or this telling yourself that you can cope all on your own without any assistance or consolation from your fellow human beings, it’s all the same - you are addicted to your struggle.
Why do we behave this way? Why do we not see that things could be better? That we deserve better than this? Or can we even see any alternatives? Perhaps we have grown too comfortable with our pain. Perhaps we need this ongoing struggle and frustration to motivate us in the end. After all, what are you going to do without the person that keeps leading you on and telling you how beautiful you are when there’s no one else to replace him or her? What’s next after you achieve your goal of shedding twenty pounds and have grown bored with working out? And how the hell is relying on anyone any good when so many people betray you and let you down, and the whole feeling of vulnerability and giving someone access to that private self you always kept to yourself is almost too much awkwardness to bear? How do we overcome this? How do we stop lying to ourselves?
Is it masochism? Is it pride? Ego? Fear? All of the above? Is there that tiny part of us that believes we do not deserve anything more than this struggle? Have we formed a twisted Stockholm syndrome with our struggle? Do these fears and anxieties rule us? No matter how much you may convince yourself of how strong you are, of how you can handle things on your own, and how much you do not need anyone else or to be in a state of weakness…I hate to break it to you - you are lying to yourself. And the more you convince yourself otherwise, the harder you’ll fall, and the more pieces you’ll have to pick once you realize that this is no way to live. Stop giving this person the power to break you. Stop telling yourself you are not beautiful. And stop trying to be Superman. Everybody falls. And everybody hurts.
Arthur C. McWilliams IV
Anonymous asked: to you whats the "perfect kiss?"
Oh, boy, that’s an interesting one to answer. I guess I’ll answer this by mixing both personal experience and what I wish would happen. I think the “perfect” kiss is definitely with someone I care deeply about. It doesn’t necessarily have to be with someone I’m in a relationship with, but I would like it to be with someone I have feelings for. I imagine that it is late at night somewhere - we could be in the park or something, and then it starts to rain. It’s just the two of us, you know? I enjoy private moments, something sacred to just us and no one else needs to be involved. I imagine our bodies pressing tight against one another with a subtle resistance, because there is the conflict between wanting to go all out and fulfill your urges, and then needing to force yourself to focus and enjoy the moment. And…it would just happen naturally, you know? A kiss between two people that mean something to each other. Eyes closed, fingers and hands caressing cheeks and chins and neck and exploring other surfaces of the body while the tongues move in and taste that strange and yet familiar sensation. And you feel it all over your skin, that tingling, that happy feeling leaving you hard and excited and gooey all at the same time. And you’re surprised at how good you are at it, and how much you want to laugh because you’re immediately comfortable and just…happy.
untitled (by Stefan Zwahlen)
(via mattnc)
I like the idea of mixing in people of color with fantasy when I write. I don’t know why, I just do. I wish there were more fantasy novels with people of color as the predominant characters. Sure, maybe less people will read them, but I think that’d be a good thing. This isn’t to make a statement about racism or propose an attack on Caucasian characters; it’s simply a matter of appreciating the inclusion of people from other groups. I was thinking about this and realized that I have not written a story with a White, male protagonist. My recent novel I have started writing is written from a female perspective, my fantasy series is told from the point of an African American male, my sci-fi series features a female of Hispanic/Native American descent as the protagonist, and this new story I have been generating has a bisexual male of mixed ethnicity telling the story.
We live in an age where we are all trying to say that equality is important, that we are all the same. You know what I think? We are not all the same. I take offense to statements like that - “It doesn’t matter, we’re all the same.” Actually, no, we’re not the same, and that is okay. The differences between you and I is a beautiful thing worthy of praise. I am not the same skin color as you. You may hate spicy food, and I may love it (I do!). You may worship a single or multiple deities, and I may worship none. You might be fascinated with learning history, whilst I detest it.
Think about it, if we were all “the same” would this world even be worth living in? It’s okay to notice that someone has a different skin tone than you. It’s okay that someone may speak differently than you, have different interests, come from a different culture, and believe or not believe in certain religions. Only our human rights should be equal, if you ask me. I think if we can stop pretending that racism, homophobia, sexism, and all the other “isms” do not exist, and stop pretending that “we’re all the same” a lot of our problems will resolve themselves gradually. Embrace your difference. Embrace the differences of other people. Treat life like a learning experience. One of the things that excites me is knowing that if I get into a relationship with someone vastly different than I, it won’t be boring between us.
Maybe this is why I write with so many different characters. Maybe this is why I throw in people from different ethnicities with different worldviews. I like the conflict that arises, as well as the unity that forms from it. I like exploring the idea that no matter what your difference, each person’s experience is valid and unique and important part of the human condition.
Equality is important, but so are our differences.
Arthur C. McWilliams IV
[video]
I admit that I am often vexed at the behavior of human beings. I have no idea how to act around them, and it seems like every thing I do, every word I say, gets mistranslated and whatever social progress I think I am making is immediately backfired. It’s sad that it has come to this, but allow me to take some time and explain the logistics behind my own behavior. If I’m nice to you and make an effort to hang out with you, guy or girl, it doesn’t mean I’m in love with you and want to bone you. It means I think you are a interesting human being. If I actually care about you, I’ll talk to you, check up on you, and ask if you need anything if you’re not feeling well. Maybe people are not supposed to do that. Maybe MEN are not supposed to do that, and I apologize for not embracing the hetero-normative stereotype. I don’t care if I come across as dramatic or feminine, because I don’t see myself that way at all. I see myself as myself, and I’ve yet to meet anyone else like me, so I define myself as unique. If I say something harsh or offensive, it’s because I assume you’re mature enough to handle it. I assume we’re at a point where I can freely speak my mind and you can either take it or propose a come back. Anyways, the point of all this is that making friends is way too difficult. Interacting with people is more complicated than it should be, which is why, and I apologize to the lot of you that have tried, I often turn down offers to hang out. It’s not worth all the awkwardness and heartbreak anymore.
Anonymous asked: What's your favorite book?
As of right now I have to say “The Magicians” by Lev Grossman. It’s an epic fantasy novel.
:D
Perhaps what some of my loved ones say is true. Maybe I am guarded. Maybe I do refuse to open up to people about my personal life. I am indifferent to a lot of things, and that comes from years of frustration and resentment. That does not take away the fact that I am a good person with a good heart. It does not change the fact that I have more compassion than people realize, even if all the cynicism and bitterness covers it up. Those that truly know me, know that despite how angry and agitated I get with the world, I still care. I still have this huge well of empathy that often gets me in trouble with a broken heart.
But to those of you asking why I never talk about myself or share anything personal, I’ll go out on a limb and say it is not my fault you don’t get to see the true side of me. I firmly believe people have to earn your true self. They have to prove that they are trustworthy and capable of handling the real you, and if they cannot simply be there for you or remember anything you tell them, that’s a sign that they won’t understand you or care when you’re hurting. Maybe I’m wrong, but I think I’m on to something here. Stick with me.
If I tell you who I am in love with, and you run your mouth to everyone, you lose your privilege of knowing who I like. If I tell you something sensitive about a limitation I may have, or a condition that makes me different than most people, and you continually dismiss it or say inconsiderate things, you lose your right to my compassion. If I ask you to please do something for me, to please do me a simple favor after all I have done for you, and you continually blow me off, ditch me, or prove yourself a shitty friend, you lose the opportunity to spend time with me. If I open up to you about something important and it goes in one ear and out the other, meanwhile I’m sitting here listening to you go on for two hours about your problems - problems I still remember the next day, next week, the next month, and so on - you don’t deserve my sympathy. You don’t deserve any part of me. You don’t deserve to see who I truly am. You don’t deserve to be a part of my life. If you have known me for years, or possibly, my whole life, and you still don’t know who I am, why should I continue to treat you like you matter when it is obvious I don’t matter to you?
Listening to people is not hard. Showing someone that you give a crap is not the most complicated thing in the world. Remembering what someone tells you is possible if you can remember to log on Facebook and update your statuses or tell your friends about something that happened to you last week. Compassion is not nonexistent, but so few people are willing to keep it as one of the basic human traits. If you cannot simply step outside of your own universe to give me two seconds of your time, despite all that I have done for you, you don’t deserve me…at all. That is why you don’t know me.
Written by Arthur C. McWilliams IV