Tag Archive for This is my Life

The Groove

The feeling you have when you want to do things and you even make progress on things just not in a way anyone can see yet, because you want more than anything to get back into your rhythm but you’re just not there.

And then you remember that you moved barely a month ago, and the fact that you can think and even make a little progress outside readjusting to life again is a pretty big deal.

Oh and remember, you spent last night plotting out story arcs, after a week of really draining work, so that’s something.

This has been a post.

 

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I didn’t know how much I needed this trip until I took it, and now I feel soooo sappy.

I’ve wanted to have a birthday that involved just chilling with friends for ages, but my mom was anti-chill parties, and I never end up living physically close to my friends in general, so spending a weekend traipsing about DC and Richmond with my girlfriend exploring museums and seeing/meeting friends I’ve known for ages IRL, was just…….beautiful.

A perfect ending to the east coast chapter of my life, before embarking on a brand new adventure.

Stories were told, drinks were had, food was eaten, laughter was plentiful……it’s a small fucking world.

As I sit here on this train for 12 hours I’m just happy I finally got to see my friends, and happy I’m actually moving, and excited about the future and the next time we get to see each-other.

I have the best group.

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My Blog is Breathing

Seriously though, it’s weird. Every other year or so, I expand out (exhale) I disperse my art and my thoughts across various different sites for a couple years to compartmentalize them in my mind, and then over time, every thing comes back together (inhale) and I try to put everything back in one place again. I’ve done this enough times that it’s starting to feel like breathing, a natural inhale and exhale of my online presence, going more places and coming back in. I’ve added back a couple handfuls of posts from KieryGeek.Com because I keep writing (or wanting to write) about games here, and keeping up an entirely separate and more quiet blog has been thrown to the wayside, but then I feel guilty and like I’m neglecting it. If you check out the KieryGeek category, you’ll see a bunch more stuff than before.

KieryGeek.Com will still be around and alive, as an archive (so all the links will work, yay!) until I decide to exhale again.

I’m also breathing.

I changed meds and have been taking Lexapro for about two weeks now and I feel a lot better than I did on Zoloft. The vivid dreams have started to die down so I’m sleeping again, which is helpful. I got my hair cut, and I get to play business Kiery this weekend, which involves makeup and some pretty rad shoes.

Pepper Potts in an Iron Man Suit

Pepper Potts was in an Iron Man suit. The suit was keeping her alive. She couldn’t just take it off whenever she wanted to, because to do so before she was in a place to receive proper and necessary medical care would be her death. As it was, the condition that lead her to live in an Iron Man suit was complicated and treatment wasn’t easy, not even for someone close to Mr. Stark. So Pepper Potts wore an Iron Man suit. She wore it every day and every night. She wore it to parties and running errands, work, and taking out the trash.

Tony was supportive, he knew Pepper was in the suit, and that living in the suit was hard for her. He kept her company and made her as comfortable as possible. He taught her how to use it and tried to show her the plus sides to living in a suit. He was there to listen when she had problems, to hold her iron clad hands and watch netflix, but most importantly, he saw her. He saw Pepper for who she was, not the suit she was wearing.

Whenever Pepper left her home she had to make a decision – a decision that was revisited upon every interaction with every human she encountered during her day. She could go out in the suit and be mistaken for Iron Man, talked to as if she were Iron Man, or reveal her identity as Pepper and be disbelieved, ignored, or beaten, harassed, and tormented. Of course, there was the off chance that some people would believe her when she said “I’m Pepper Potts, this is just a suit, it’s not a reflection of me” but those people are rare in public.

Most often, she got called “fake” and her life experiences were invalidated because all people could see of Pepper was the suit she was wearing. They thought, well if there’s an Iron Man suit, obviously it’s only Iron Man in it, and as soon as they learned otherwise, they harassed, threatened, and called her a poser, just trying to get attention, a wannabe, not real.

But it’s only Pepper Potts in an Iron Man suit. We all know that what we wear isn’t who we are. 

Sometimes I feel like my skin is a suit. It’s something I wear, something I have to wear because this suit is what’s keeping me alive. But whenever I go out, because of my suit, I have to decide if I want to put up with the misogyny and misgendering that my suit brings me, or risk confrontation. I often opt for keeping my head down and avoiding conflict. It doesn’t make the way people treat me – when they see my suit and harass me because of it, or keep calling me her when I’ve told them I’m not – feel any less painful; it’s just sometimes easier to ignore it than fight it, until I have the energy to. I haven’t found my powers yet.

My skin is a suit, it isn’t me. I’m inside of it. And the people who see through the suit and into me are the people I want to keep around. I want to be seen, my suit doesn’t define me. 

Wield it Wisely

Free speech is important, vital, even, and should be protected, yet does not serve as a buffer or shield from criticism. Just because you are free to say something doesn’t mean there won’t be consequences for the words you speak or write. The pen is mightier than the sword. We can say so much, so much more powerfully with ink and lines than we can in other ways, which is why it’s important to remember than when we choose pens as our weapons, as creators, we are more dangerous and more powerful than we realize. While doodles and letters put together in sentences and satire don’t physically harm anyone, we are making a difference (however small, however subtle) and we are either moving society forward or protecting the status quo. We are dismantling society, or perpetuating oppression, or maybe we do some of both because we’re human. We are communicating on a level that surpasses the conscious and meets people in their souls. When we are cruel, and racist, homophobic, or misogynistic, that still matters, it still affects people, it still hurts.

We should never be afraid to create, to say what we feel needs to be said. But we need to know, we need to be aware, that our words, our drawings, our art is powerful. That’s why so many people try to destroy it, so many people try to hide from it, and if we really want to, we can make the world a better, more equal, represented, and understanding place with it.

The pen is mightier than the sword, wield it wisely.

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