Challenge #01804-D343: One Confusing Afternoon Over Mocktails at Nik's — Steemit
[AN: Speaking as someone who is mentally ill -ASD+Anxiety- I personally find this kind of prompt offensive as fuck. Please knock it off, Nonny]
“So these people profited off those they considered Other,” said Forfax, trying to get a grip on this particular human’s explanation.
“Oh aye,” said the Ambassador. “They had loads o’ ways.”
“And then they called these Othered people lazy and insisted that they worked for medication that would help them at least feel normal.”
“Aye. An’ they hiked th’ prices, too.”
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Challenge #01481-D020: Carry the Light
‘I don’t want my life to imitate art, I want it to be art.“ - Carrie Fisher – @recklessprudence
Auntie Mame is famous for saying, “Life is a smorgasbord, and most poor souls are starving to death.” But even she would believe that Taerl Vincetti was taking things a bit too far.
She could have been the living embodiment of vanity, were it not for her belief that her life was a performance piece for all who happened to be in her audience. Her life was her work, and her body was simultaneously a canvas and a tool for display. She expected nothing, and gained everything.
Taerl was not as rail-thin as one might imagine of such a performer. She danced, she created, she lived in art, and so she kept her body fit. Not thin, not fat, but fit. She maintained her body with a strict regimen of diet and exercise. And, once a year, she would add to the artwork on her skin.
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Challenge #01470-D009: Survivor’s Tale
I am mentally ill. I can say that. I am not ashamed of that. I survived that, I’m still surviving it, but bring it on. Better me than you. I don’t want to be a victim.
— Carrie Fisher – @recklessprudence
On the cusp of sleep, I hear voices. Stranger’s voices, almost always. Sometimes, they’re spouting nonsense. I know they’re the firings of my unconscious brain gearing up for a dream. Other times… well…
They’re the voices of people I know, but they’re always things they never said. Always horrible things that they would never say. But when I hear it, it’s so real.
“She’s asleep. Time to kill her,” is always a favourite. I joke to my therapist that my subconscious hates me. Either that, or it was trained from the days when my parents… ha. But then, everyone blames their parents. And everyone thinks their childhood is normal until they go to someone else’s house.