Whenever (or if-ever…hopefullywhen) I have kids, they are going to have the most interesting/odd names. Perhaps I’m more drawn to uncommon names because my name is quite common, but I feel it also is due to the fact that odd names mean the most to me. I have long since decided that if I ever have a baby girl some day in my future, her name would be Amelie. For the movie that made me fall in love with film, and the woman in that movie who became the most important role model to me when I was a teenager. The film woman that I most relate to. And another name? Pippin. (wouldn’t that be the cutest name for a girl in the history of names :o -but also for a guy, I suppose.) For the movie/book franchise that taught me it was alright to dream, it was alright to believe in fairy tales and most importantly - it’s cool to be a nerd. And for the character within it that taught me that throughout extreme turmoil in pain, kindness and a bit of fun are still important, and no matter what people think of you, ever person - no matter how big, small or silly, can be utterly courageous.
So there yah go, children of a distant future. Sorry for the odd names. But hey - at least you get cool nick names out of the deal! Think of it, Mellie and Pip. Awesome.
So I was just going through my subscription box on YouTube and I began watching a video by the wonderful EmilytheBrave entitled “It’s kind of fun to do the impossible.” (As stated above.) The video focused around why she loved the Disney and Pixar franchise so much, and how it has played such a large role in her life. I don’t know why but when I was watching it it struck a bit of a chord, and not necessarily a happy-go-lucky chord, as I am used to. A little bit of a sour one. Now, this sourness was not created by the meaning behind the video, and certainly not from the lady herself - she is one of my favorite vloggers on the you tubes, I think she’s a brilliant human being and she likes otters so, obviously she’s a cool person. But because of her stance on fairy tales.
Throughout my life Fairy Tales have had a constant presence. They’ve made me who I am and their the reason I cannot seem to keep my feet planted on the ground where they should be. But I don’t prefer the Disney form of Fairy Tales. I love them, yes, but when I am a parent I would much rather have my kids exposed to the original tales, not the watered down versions that Disney has created, no matter how amazing those stories may be. For me, they aren’t the ones that mean the most to me.
When I think of the Little Mermaid I remember that it didn’t end perfectly. Ariel didn’t stay human forever and have babies, she died. She threw herself into the ocean to become sea foam because she would rather have died than live in a world where she killed the one she loved.
The original reason behind these tales was not to sugar coat life, as Disney does. They were meant to show people morals, to scare children from talking to strangers. And not all these stories have horrible endings such as Snow White or Sleeping Beauty (She was raped and had children in her sleep. It’s no love story.) Some show the amazing beauty that life and love can produce.
I much prefer the old stories to Disney endings.
For me, the changed endings are what I don’t like about Disney. I love the animation (obviously xD) I love the stories and the love but I hate the endings. Because they aren’t real to me.
One of the most beautiful things about the horrible endings of the Grimm Fairy tales is because it doesn’t water down life. And that’s one of the things they thought me. That life is beautiful, that life has meaning. But life is by no means perfect. There will always be sorrow and pain. But if love and life is true, it will suffer through that.
It taught me that even if my life is messed up and horrible, life will find a way through it.
Yes, Cinderella doesn’t end happily for her family. Her sisters chop off their toes and heels for greed (yes, they did do it to themselves, to fit into the shoe) and then have their eyes pecked out by birds, and they go to live in the woods for the rest of their lives. And Cinderella, who had lived a life of extreme torture lived happily ever after.
These stories may be gruesome but I love them no matter how gory they may be. I always have.
So in summary!
Emily The Brave = A+ you tuber and person.
Disney/Pixar = A+
But for me: Fairy Tales in their original form > Disney endings.
Sorry if this is an unpopular opinion, it’s just my opinion!
There’s always something about feeling squeaky clean after taking an absurdly hot shower. You feel a bit like you’ve been scalded and your head’s a bit fuzzy, yet at the same time you could never feel more clean… But at the same time the shower has always been that place for me where my hidden flaws are revealed. It was the place where I hid when things got worse, something about the white of the tub to the stark whiteness of the tiles made me feel sterile. Not safe- but almost as if the white on white could clean up my emotions in a way that the water was doing to my body. The shower was also the place where I would inflict pain. With harsh words and other such things. There was nobody around to judge this internal hate. Nobody to combat these negative demons that talked you further and further down your rabbit hole. So they would continue to flow, and the white of the walls and the cleansing nature of water would make them disappear, at least for the moment.
There is also the moment after your shower, when you are attacked by seemingly freezing tempetures and a fogged up mirror. I used to absolutely hate the way that I looked post-shower. With my hair plastered to my face and my body taken away from it’s protective dress. There is no make up, no fancy cloths. Just a short, pale girl who’s skin becomes rosy red after her shower.
But I have to say… while I used to hate that, I’ve become accustomed to it. I don’t mind it as much anymore.
Night time loneliness
I’m tired of being sad. whether or not I have a reason to be… I still hate this ache.
I’ll be fine after tea and sleep.
I’m very sleepy.
I’m not blaming anyone for this loneliness… by the way. Just a silly family situation… but nothing I can’t handle. It’s many a moment later and I’m feeling better. Promise. Not that it’s urgent, or anything… just…. y’know, and update.
Because over half of the sources I’ve found for my paper that actually look promising are in the gorgeous Italian language.
Which is brilliant!
But I can’t read them…
I’m not one to elequently write out my feelings. Because my feelings, to me, are silly, pretentious, transparent, fleeting. They never flow as easily from my mind to paper as others do with such ease and fluidity of hand. But this is one time where I will try. I will try to let these forgotten and watered down feelings known, because I have a feeling that to write these down may help others to understand what’s going on right now. In a way that I could never do to another’s face. Because I’m a pansy.
So bear with me…
Why does it seem that one person’s pain and fear of abandonment is more important, potent and troubling than others? Yes, I know that the possible outcome is more pressing, more immediate, more permanent… while mine thoughts may just sink further into my chest, past my ribs, past my heart into some dark, forgotten place. Full of pasts moments where I once again became the raggedy teddy bear, placed into a tight box and placed on the highest shelf, loved and remembered fondly, but no longer needed, and frankly no longer wanted.
And this isn’t some outcry for attention. Or an extreme complaint. Just an observation and explanation.
Or perhaps this is a complaint… or maybe a wish. I wish that people would give as much reverence to each single person’s feelings as they do to another’s. Because I’m lonely and I’m sad. And I’m trying to be honest. And I hate feeling like people are only with me here because they know they need me right now. But it also feels like there is only one for me here. Only one who hasn’t left yet. And dear god, I hope the never do.
And perhaps I’m only this sensitive about this specific matter because the person in question caused someone I’m close to so much pain, but being the wonderful person she is, she forgave ever wrong doing. They cut me off suddenly and left me wondering, worried and alone as they whispered secrets I had been previously privy to. This hurt - yes - but I understood why they decided to leave me out. They completely understood this feeling in question, this shame. But that’s not to say it didn’t hurt. But this leaving was something I’ve always been used to, and I didn’t really care until I found out that she - the person in question, madame #1 - had been bashing the one relationship in my life that made me feel safe and loved, and kept the ladder under my legs steady from falling, with madame #2. Add this with being completely cut off and left in the dark with memories of ostracizing and loneliness with this added shake and my ladder felt like it was going to fall. Because in my mind, that small critizism of my relationship caused me to feel that it was somehow bad, somehow wrong. And they hated it. And me. And him. And…and… well you get it.
And while I know this isn’t true, it still felt like a kick in the gut with a metal boot. A final straw pulled out from under me. I broke and I cried and left my feeling be felt - and tried to show them to others. But for the most part they weren’t completely understood. It took a day or so, but I was eventually alright again, all was forgiven and forgotten.
Now once again, I feel like the bad one.
I’m the one who is causing #1 to hate herself. the one who is causing her to feel like she is worthless and therefore shouldn’t exist. Not because of anything I did to her, but because I’m close with someone she is best friends with.
This is why I hate being labeled best friends.
Sisters I understand.
But I try to stay away from this “best” - though I know I slip up and use it often. I try not to. There are too many lifeless promises included in those two small words.
Because I’m happy, and I make her happy, which makes her feel like shit. And in her mind she probably wants someone to choose. Someone to walk away. And it feels like if I don’t, she might just disappear indefinitely. But I can’t for my sake either, anyway… I can’t change my living plans for next year either. That’s dumb shit.
I don’t know what to do.
But I’m lonely. And confused.
But once again, I will become an anonymity, as I have always been before this soliloquy. I won’t disappear, I’m not going anywhere. I will always be there to be a cozy blanket and a warm cup of tea on a sad and sorry night. Even when I’m tossed away because it’s too hot, or left out to become cold and tasteless.
I’ll still be here.