Thought Catalog

Thought Catalog


3 Real Sex Stories To Get Off To In Bed Tonight

Posted: 26 Oct 2015 07:00 PM PDT

brandondpowell
brandondpowell

#1: Sunday

"I want you to tell me you're coming. I want you to say my name. I want you to come all over my dick," he says to me, low in my ear. We are on his sticky green couch, naked, in the middle of the day, and I am riding him hard and fast. There's football on the TV, and my black lacy thong is lying crumpled on the coffee table where it landed when he yanked it down my legs.

I pull him closer to me, shoving my hands in his hair and grinding my clit slow against him. His eyes close and he tips his head back with sheer bliss. I am breathing very hard as I rock myself back and forth, back and forth, waiting for that delicious sensation to rise stronger and stronger inside me. He bends his head to lick my nipples, which are as pink and hard as they've ever been.

"You want me to come, baby?" I whisper. "Say it. Tell me what you want."

“"You're such a tease," he murmured, sliding a finger through the split to play with me, stroking the wetness he'd found, swirling circles around my clit.”

"I want you to come right now," he whispers back, biting my neck as I fuck him. "Tell me you're coming. I wanna hear you come."

And so I do. I tip my hips forward in just the right way, giving myself the exact kind of stimulation that makes me lose it, close to the edge, and then I am coming, gasping his name in his ear. I grasp at the back of the couch for balance, because the waves come so hard and fast that I need stability.

"Come on my dick," he is saying over and over. "Baby, do you like it when you come on my dick?" I do. I really do.

Once the waves have subsided and I can catch my breath, he pulls me into his room and I ride him backwards just the way he likes, fast, his hands on my ass. He likes to watch his dick slide in and out of me like this. I know what helps get him off: dragging my nails up and down his thighs, cupping and gently pulling on his balls, playing with my tits. "Give it to me," I tell him. "Fill me up. I wanna feel you come inside me."

He comes, loudly, and I roll off his dick to lay down beside him, exhausted, blood thumping from toes to tits.

He laughs when I wake up three hours later, flushed and dazed. "I fucked you into a coma, babe."

#2: Halloween

I was dressed as Madonna that Halloween. You know the costume: a cut-up, over-the-top '80s wedding dress, fishnets, jelly bracelets, veil. It's easy, trashy and sexy without getting too naked.

For some reason, the dude I was fucking at the time was obsessed with this costume. "Did you have a crush on Madonna when you were a kid, or what?" I asked him, laughing, as he panted over me while I dressed.

"Dude, I don't know, but something about this outfit is making me crazy."

"It's gonna be a pretty long party then," I teased, flashing the white lacy panties and matching garter belt at him. "Just so you know what's under this dress."

"God dammit," he moaned. "I hate you."

We arrived at the party and immediately headed towards the alcohol, centrally located in my girlfriend's kitchen. After a glass or two of whatever Everclear-spiked punch she was serving, the two of us were buzzing. Girls in skimpy costumes flitted about the party, grinding with each other to turn the dudes on. There were people everywhere; it was like that Halloween party in "Mean Girls."

My dude leaned in to me and whispered, "Tell me what's under that dress again?"

I smiled. "Oh, just this white garter belt – all lace – and a matching corset. Oh, and some little white lacy panties. We can't forget those." He grabbed me and held me against him so I could feel him getting hard. "Did I tell you they have a split crotch?"

Dude groaned. "You wouldn't."

"I did."

That's all it took. We found a quiet corner in the house, mostly secluded from the action with just a few costumed acquaintances wandering in and out, and in a flash his hands were exploring the mechanics of my panties while I sipped champagne. "You're such a tease," he murmured, sliding a finger through the split to play with me, stroking the wetness he'd found, swirling circles around my clit.

"I just wanted to make this a Halloween to remember," I replied, laughing between the little waves of pleasure. "And to ensure you'll get a boner every time you see Madonna from now on."

#3: Yoga

A fuck buddy had recently become a yoga teacher and he had been begging me to attend his class for weeks. Finally, I caved. Clearly he wanted me to stroke his ego and he probably wanted to look at my ass while I bent over into downward dog or whatever they call it – I think yoga is super boring and overrated.

But I went anyway and wore the Lululemon leggings I always wear around the house and to the mall, which I knew he liked. He'd always ask for pictures of my ass in my yoga leggings, and I'd always oblige.

I laid my borrowed mat down a few rows away from the front, close enough so he could see me but not too close. He smiled, looking surprised as I walked in, then strode over to me. "Hey, you're new here. Would you mind if I did some adjustments on your poses while we practice?"

"Of course," I said, smiling right back, in on the joke. "I don't mind at all. Feel free to touch me wherever you want."

I think I did an OK job at the class. Like I said, I've never been into yoga, but since old cheerleaders never die, I'm still pretty flexible despite my lack of interest in exercise. Then again, I happened to have an instructor placing his hands on my thighs and hips, guiding me into new poses.

The music was just loud enough so he could talk to me when he passed by. "Remember when I threw these legs over your head and fucked you hard that one morning?" he'd whisper. Or, "Your ass looks so good in your leggings that I have to look at that old lady to stop myself from being hard the whole time."

It was pretty hot, I'll give him that. There's nothing like sweating your face off in a room full of strangers while the dude you're boning is talking dirty to you while responsible for teaching a class. At the end of the hour, he passed around a little bottle of oil and instructed us to give ourselves a little self-massage. Ohhhh, I knew what he was doing.

I pooled some oil in my hand, then proceeded to rub myself down. "No, no," he said, coming over. "Do it like this." He placed his hands on my shoulders, working out the tension, then moved just low enough to be decent but keep me turned on. "I get done in an hour. Don't shower. I want to fuck you all sweaty like this."

I nodded. On my way home, I texted him: "I think I need private yoga lessons from now on. You game? What will you charge me?"


"How about access to that body whenever I want it?"

"Sounds fair."

I might never have attended another yoga class, but I managed to keep up a practice in private. TC mark

17 Magical Phrases Every Homebody Wishes Their Partner Would Say

Posted: 26 Oct 2015 07:00 PM PDT

margueta
margueta

"Going out sounds awful…we should just order Seamless again."


Oh babe, going out DOES sound awful. And yes. Yes we should just order food to be delivered straight to our door, no muss no fuss, again. Why else would we have these fucking $800 phones with apps galore if they couldn't bring hot pizza and burritos directly to our laps night after night? If we don't order the food we're really doing Apple a disservice. Apple WANTS us to sit on our butts and swipe and click touch screens bringing guac to our homes, so it's for Steve. RIP. 



"Damn your chair is comfy."


Thank you KINDLY. I spend enough time here that I have spent a good second making sure every piece is perfectly constructed for maximum lounging and relaxing comfort potential. Thank you for recognizing but also…please don't mess up the cushions…




"Got enough room?"

**scoots over on the couch**
I don't have to feel bad about resenting sharing my furniture because you'll make sure I'm comfortable?!!!? *pinches self* Is this real life?!



"Oh we have forever until we need to be there. Take your time."


Thank god you recognize that peeling myself away from Netflix, showering, coifing myself, and putting on "in public" clothes isn't going to take a subtle twenty minutes. If I have to be expected to present myself as a person who goes out, it's going to take a while. And not just because I'm going to be watching Game of Thrones WHILE I curl my hair. But also because I rarely do this. So thank god but also, genuinely, thank you.


“Do you want me to just pick up pizza on the way home?"


Hold up…let me get this straight. Not only are you coming over to MY house, but you're also going to be carrying some cheesy goodness when I buzz you up? Yes, yes, a THOUSAND times yes. Please come over.


"Let's just stay at your place this weekend."


Don't have to ask me twice.



"Hey! Remember what you said about Bennett disappearing? Let me introduce you to…"


Truly, I have never been more in love than in this moment. There is nothing worse about being anti-social than being anti-social at a party and feeling like I have to fend for myself. I'm so glad you recognized that since it was YOUR party you were obligated to make me feel less weird about the situation. And after you've given me someone else to blab about OITNB with I can (mostly) feel better and hold a conversation on my own that doesn't involve awkwardly laughing and nodding along with yours while also pretending to text. 



**text ding** "Netflix and "God dammit yes I am still watching!!" and chill?"


Lol. Babe you know me so well.


"I bet we could make Pad Thai JUST as good at home ourselves."


I knew the countless hours I've spent weirdly lusting after different things on Foodspotting in the comfort of the wonderful, aforementioned home would pay off. Is this the 2015 version of The Notebook? Instead of building me a house he's going to build me a cheesecake and spicy noodles while I'm wearing slippers in my living room? LOVE IS REAL. 



"You look hot in those sweatpants."


You look hot when you say that.




"Don't worry, I bought more popcorn."


I need to make sure I understand the situation at hand correctly. You not only know me well enough to know my favorite snack but you are freely, and with no prior nagging, offering to REPLENISH said snack? Knock me up. Just do it. DARE YOU.


"Need another pillow/blanket/foot rest?"


Yes I am always cold and slightly uncomfortable, especially when sharing my space with another human. How thoughtful of you to notice.



"No, no stay there. I'll come to you."


I don't have to come to your house where the mattress will be either too firm or not firm enough, there will be a strange, undetectable odor, and I'm forced to use a bathroom that is not MY bathroom? I get to avoid ALL of that!? Honestly I don't think you understand how chill it is, NO, how AMAZING it is of you to accept that I want to be in my own spot, my own oasis, and to agree to exist in said oasis with no fight. 
**strips naked**


"I've never seen Breaking Bad, should I watch it?"


That depends…are you prepared to watch an entire season in a day and drink orange juice out of the container and stuff cold pizza in your face whilst doing so? Oh…you assumed that was part of the deal? 


"This party is terrible. Let's go home."


Truer words were never spoken.


"Wanna know who's gonna be there?"


**faints**
Arguably the worst part of agreeing to go anywhere is not knowing who else will be in attendance once you get to the set location. By offering it up on a silver platter you are allowing me to decide whether or not to feel obligated to go with you. And that is just the fucking greatest gift of all.


"Can we just stay in tonight?"


Can you also just marry me tonight? TC mark

15 Difficult Things About Being A Very Intuitive Person

Posted: 26 Oct 2015 06:00 PM PDT

isr4el
isr4el

1. It can be hard to tell the difference between an intuitive feeling and just… a feeling. You know that if you treated every passing feeling like an intuitive nudge you'd probably have lost your damn mind by now, so you have to be discerning about what's a 'gut feeling' and what isn't.

2. It's hard to convince someone of something just because you 'know,' and harder to not say "I told you so" when you're right. There's nothing more frustrating than knowing a 'feeling' isn't a compelling argument… except after you were right about said 'feeling' and the person you were trying to convince would have saved themselves some trouble had they just trusted you a little.

3. You only want to do what's 'right,' but figuring out what's 'right' is basically your #1 life struggle. You know what it's like to be able to discern what's "right" (most positive, most helpful, most beneficial, etc.) in any given moment, and the gratification you get from acting on that inherent knowing. Unfortunately, this can also leave you susceptible to only wanting to act on what's best, when figuring that out is sometimes a process of trial and error.

4. It's hard to play dumb when you know people are being dishonest or disingenuous with you. And if you're being honest, sometimes it hurts to be able to tell someone finds you annoying or wishes you weren't around as much. It's probably the biggest downside of being hyper-sensitive to what's around you, but also probably saves you from spending time with the wrong people.

5. You can be very indecisive, as they say: the clearer the choice, the louder the cry to try and choose otherwise.

6. We live in a world that values thinking over sensing, yet our subconscious minds are much more powerful than our conscious ones. And that's exactly what you're tapping into when you have that "intuitive feeling" – your subconscious intelligence. A major reason people doubt themselves is because this typically isn't seen as valid as conscious choice-making, though we already know the opposite is true.

7. You rarely realize that not only can you intuit 'truths' but also 'possibilities' (hence being prone to intense anxiety). There are usually multiple potential outcomes to any given situation, and the more you are conscious of one, the more you are conscious of the (less likely, more unfortunate) others.

8. Sometimes, it's better not to be hyper-aware of (or sensitive to) everything that's going on in the world, it's exhausting. You can start to feel as though the world's problems are your own, and that gets overwhelming when you realize that you alone cannot solve them. (Good news, they're not – they only feel that way because that's how you perceive them.)

9. You find joy in understanding things, so you're quicker to think about them than you are to enjoy them. You sometimes have to remind yourself (or consciously re-teach yourself) to just sit back and enjoy life. You're so busy putting the puzzle together, you forget to kick back and check out the bigger picture, which is pretty great, too.

10. Not everything requires an in-depth emotional analysis. In fact, some things are best served by leaving them alone. Figuring out the difference between what is and isn't is a delicate dance that you have to learn to master.

11. Your hyper-sensitivity is something you have to protect. It's really easy for people to take advantage of you and your empathetic capacity (intuitive people are almost always very empathetic).

12. You won't let yourself continue doing anything that doesn't feel 'right,' even if that's the easier (or more logical) choice. Your life is totally subject to how you feel about it, even though in reality, you would be better off seeing with a touch of logic and objectivity now and again.

13. You always find yourself asking people 'what's wrong,' because even the smallest micro-expressions can read to you as 'off.' Alongside being hyper-aware of things like this, you have a hard time just letting them go. It feels like seeing a burning fire and just walking away.

14. You feel everything more acutely in general. You take everything seriously, and seem to feel everything with more intensity than other people do (for better and for worse).

15. You take on other people's problems as your own.
You sometimes confuse 'perceiving something being wrong' with it 'being your responsibility to fix.' Your challenge is in letting yourself perceive a situation, yet also just letting it be what it is at the same time. TC mark

‘Eating The Peach’ & 99 Other Adorable Terms For Going Down On A Woman

Posted: 26 Oct 2015 05:25 PM PDT

pixabay
pixabay

1) Barking at the Ape

2) Box Lunch at the ‘Y’

3) Breakfast in Bed

4) Brushing One’s Teeth

5) Carpet-Munching

6) Chewing the She-Fat

7) Clam-Jousting

8) Clam-Lapping

9) Cleaning the Fish Tank

10) Connie Lingus

11) Contacting the Aliens

12) Conversing with Moses

13) Devil’s Kiss

14) Dinner Beneath the Bridge

15) Doing it the French Way

16) Donning the Beard

17) Drinking from the Furry Cup

18) Eating at the ‘Y’

19) Eating Fur Pie

20) Eating Out

21) Eating the Peach

22) Eating Squirrel

23) Eating Sushi From the Barbershop Floor

24) Eating Tinned Mussels

25) Egg McMuff

26) Face-Fucking

27) Facing the Nation

28) Fanny-Noshing

29) Fence-Painting

30) French-Kissing Mr. Lincoln

31) Fuzz Sandwich

32) Giving Face

33) Gnawing on Roast Beef

34) Going Downstairs for Breakfast

35) Going South

36) Gomorrahry

37) Gorilla in the Washing Machine

38) Growling at the Badger

39) Gumming the Monster

40) Husband’s Supper

41) Kissing Between the Hips

42) Kissing the Wookie
43) Lady Braille

44) Lady Semaphore

45) Larking

46) Lapping the Gap

47) Lapping the Lint Trap

48) Lick-a-Chick

49) Lickety-Slit

50) Licking Anchovy

51) Lip Service

52) Lip-Synching to the Fish-Fueled Jukebox

53) Low-Calorie Snacking

54) Making Mouth Music

55) Medicating the Hairy Paper Cut

56) Mopping the Vulva

57) Mustache-Riding

58) Muff-Diving

59) Mumbling in the Moss

60) Munching the Bearded Clam

61) One-Man Band

62) Oyster-Gargling

63) Parting the Fuzz

64) Pastrami Sandwich

65) Pearl-Diving

66) Placating the Beaver

67) Playing in the Sandbox

68) Playing the Hair Harmonica

69) Prawn Breath

70) Pruning the Orchid

71) Pug-Noshing

72) Pussy-Nibbling

73) Seafood Dinner

74) Sipping at the Fizzy Cup

75) Sitting on a Face

76) Slurping at the Furry Coconut

77) Smoking the Fur

78) Sneezing in the Basket

79) Spa Time For Lady Boner

80) Speaking in Tongues

81) Spraying the Crops

82) Tackling the Brazilian

83) Talking to the Canoe Driver

84) Talking to Lassie

85) Telephoning the Stomach

86) Testing the Echo in the Love Cave

87) Testing the Waters

88) Tipping the Velvet

89) Tongue-Fucking

90) Tonguing the Bean

91) Trimming the Hedges

92) Velvet Buzzsaw

93) Wearing the Feed Bag

94) Wearing the Sticky Beard

95) Whispering Into the Wet Ear

96) Whispering to Venus

97) Whistling in the Dark

98) Worshiping at the Altar

99) Yaffling

100) Yodeling in the Canyon

There Are Some Really Dark Places On The Deep Web

Posted: 26 Oct 2015 05:00 PM PDT

Flickr / Jakub Hlavaty
Flickr / Jakub Hlavaty

I’m sure by this point you’ve heard all about the “Deep Net.” It’s been talked about more and more in relation to places like Silk Road, and child pornography rings the world over. I’ve even heard about a website where people were able to buy and sell children.

Despite all of these dark secrets lurking in the recesses of the internet, nothing could have prepared me for MartyrNet. If you were to ask me where I first heard about it, I could not even give a coherent answer. It’s like bits and pieces its existence reached me over the years. Even from the fragments of knowledge I had about it, I could tell it was a place that I was not even remotely fucked up enough to venture into.

Unfortunately I wound up falling for a girl who was fated to lead me right down the rabbit hole. Her name was Amanda and we were taking Statistics 120 together every Thursday night. I’m normally really bad at approaching girls, but when she introduced herself as a Sedona native, I jumped at the chance to make fun of “The Vortex,” that so many Sedonians believe in.

“So how many aliens have you seen?” I asked.

A few other people around the class looked at me like I was stupid, but I could tell Amanda got it. She just smiled back at me and said, “Three, actually.”

After sitting together through a few more classes together, we finally decided to hang out outside of school. She invited me back to her place and we smoked some weed and listened to some folky Pandora stations. It wasn’t until a few shots of tequila got thrown into the mix that things started to heat up.

I had just gotten her top off when she suddenly looked at me weird, like she had just remembered something.

“I shouldn’t,” she said, quietly. “I think you really like me.”

“What gave you that idea?”

“It would just be meaningless for me,” she said.

That hurt, honestly. As down as I am for meaningless sex, I was a little too enamored by her to just let something like that bounce off me. I don’t know if it was just the situation, or the added shots of tequila and pot, but I was at a loss for words. It was like she had just shut off. Awkwardly, I rolled off her bed and got dressed and showed myself out.

The next week, she never showed up to class. It wasn’t until then that I really tried calling her up and getting a hold of her. But she wouldn’t answer my calls and she wasn’t responding to me on Facebook. After another week went by, I got desperate and drove out to her apartment. The front door was unlocked, but no one was inside.

I was on the verge of calling the police, but I figured maybe I should look around a little more. Shamelessly, I opened up her laptop and looked around. That was where I found the Torrent download for the program Martyrnet. She had already installed it and had a window minimized. When I clicked the shortcut, it brought up a chat log between her and a few other users in a private conversation.

They had been talking about prices. Apparently the three other users had agreed to pay her $20,000 for something. I felt suddenly sick to my stomach. Was it for sex? Was she a prostitute or something? Desperately, I scrolled up to find out more information, but the last thing I saw was a date before I heard the door slam shut.

“Monday night at 3:00 am, on Alpha server.”

“Hello?” came her familiar voice. “Is someone in here?”

“It’s me,” I said, figuring I ought to just get it over with.

“What the fuck, Leo?”

“I was worried about you…”

“Well don’t. You don’t even know me. What makes you think you can just come into my house like this?”

I apologized again and again, but she wasn’t calming down. Even in her anger I could tell there was something very different about her. She had deep bags under eyes and she looked paler than usual. On her head she had tied a purple bandana, covering up her already thin hair.

“Just get the hell out and don’t come here again. You were just a…thing. An accident.”

I pretended not to be hurt by that and closed the door behind me on my way out. All I could think about on the drive home was how sickly she looked. Had she always been that way and I never noticed? What was she getting into?

beetlejuice

It was almost impossible to concentrate in class for the following few days. I hadn’t known Amanda for that long, but I felt compelled to know what was going to happen. I couldn’t just forget about everything.

On Monday afternoon, I downloaded the MartyrNet client and acquainted myself with the program. It’s fairly easy to navigate. There’s only five servers: Alpha, Beta, etc… I flipped through a few of them, but nothing was going on. Only on the Delta server did I see a small chat bar with four users, two of which had prices beside their names.

Apparently all of the servers are free to watch, as long as the shows have been paid for by someone. In Delta server at that time there was a girl with tribal tattoos, sticking all kinds of miscellaneous objects inside of herself. Anything the paying users called out, she would somehow conjure from outside the screen.

I was getting more and more nervous as the day wore on. By the time 3:00 am rolled around, there were at least twenty users in the room. At the top of the chatbar were the three paying users I had seen on Amanda’s computer, each sharing portions of the $20,000.

Suddenly the black screen lit up and I was looking at her beautiful, green eyes. She looked even worse than when I had seen her. Was she sick?

“Hi everyone,” she said, forcing a smile. “I guess word got around. I haven’t seen a server this full since that one girl painted a portrait of herself naked, using her own shit as a medium.”

The chatbar started filling with people’s reactions, and side-conversations about the shit-show. Amanda just sat motionless, reading what they all had to say.

So far I was relieved to see that she wasn’t naked, although she wasn’t fully dressed either. She was wearing the same turquoise panties and bra that I had seen the last night I spent with her. Even though she was emaciated, she still looked beautiful — in a haunting kind of way.

“I guess there’s not much more to say,” her voice sounded restricted, like it kept getting caught in her throat. “Thank you guys for offering me so much. My family really needs it after all of the medical bills they’ve had to pay because of me. They’ll be confused at first, but it will all work out somehow.”

In the chatbar a few people were placing bets on something. It was apparently something they knew about the show that I didn’t, because they kept making bets on random numbers.

“I’ll bet you $50 she can’t make it past three,” said one user.

“Look how sick she is! she won’t go beyond two.”

And on the betting went. I saw Amanda’s eyes rove over the conversation, and her face turned a paler kind of green color. She tried to smile, but all she managed was to make her lip tremble. She was absolutely shaking, and so was I. What was I about to see?

“Okay,” she croaked. She was crying now. A single tear welled up in the corner of her eye and ran down her cheek and she waved to the monitor after wiping her nose. “Okay,” she said again. Now her face was red, soaked in the tears that kept coming. “Enjoy the show.”

And she rolled back in her chair, further from the monitor. Suddenly I could see something silver in her hands. It was a kitchen knife. An absurdly large kitchen knife with a wooden handle. She took it into both of her hands and raised it with the tip pointed at her abdomen.

And she thrust, with a little grunt. She drove the knife into her abdomen, and when she removed it, the blood ran so thick it looked like it was inky black. I thought the screen had gone blurry at first, but then I realized I was crying just as hard as she was.

Yet she soldiered on. Everyone lost the bet. By the time her arm went limp and the knife had fallen to the floor, she had thrust it into her stomach ten times.

“$20,000 for that?” said one user.

“Some guy just had the most extreme climax of his life.”

“<—”

I just sat there, numb, staring at her bleeding body, wondering if I should call the cops or an ambulance or something. But there was another feeling, one I couldn’t as easily recognize within me. I had just watched someone die, right in front of my eyes. Though the tears kept coming, I couldn’t help but feel suddenly, very alive. Sick, but alive.

I waited a respectful 10 minutes or so before wiping my eyes dry. Everything felt so numb and tingly and fucking alive. So I flipped over to Beta server, to see what else was on. TC mark

8 Reasons Why People With Anxiety Are The Only Ones Worth Dating

Posted: 26 Oct 2015 04:00 PM PDT

attebery
attebery

1. You don't make things a guessing game.


So the pacing, finger tapping, and infuriating need-to-know-what-time-it-is may help at giving it away, but what you're thinking is plain as day 99.9% of the time. Honestly though? In oh-so-cool-as-a-cucumber-casual 2015, that's kind of a breath of fresh air. The fact that the other person can visibly tell that you are excited/nervous to see them is charming as hell. And because you are all about taking care of yourself and won't force yourself to stay in situations that are making you uncomfortable (Right? Right.) it makes being there for you all the easier. There's none of that, "Yeah, I'm fine" bullshit. Everything is out on the table and it's fantastic.


2. You're prepared for the worst and, therefore, anything and everything. 
Normal people might call you "paranoid", or "a doomsday jinx-er". But those people are the same ones who will be clawing at your JICOA2E2 (Just In Case Of Any And Every Emergency) pack the second that fault line near Seattle breaks and you're sinking down fast! All joking aside, you have totally prepped for anything that could cross your path because of having to always be on the ready for yourself. And that may seem kooky, but really makes you the best companion. 


3. You know how to really be there for someone. 
After heaving and sobbing and completely snotting someone's sleeve up over something as seemingly simple as having to drive on the freeway, you have learned how to be (and unfortunately, how to not to be) a rock. Yes, a rock that may be prone to labored breathing in crowds, but a rock nonetheless. You know that at the end of the day, it's all about BEING there. It's not necessarily about what you say, or about having Oprah level advice to give, it's about being where you are needed; no questions asked. And that is a place you are always prepared to be. 


4. It's hard to freak you out. 
Sure. You may get palpitations at the idea of a stranger bringing a plus one to your birthday, the sound of a crying baby, or even just a phone convo with your manager. But grand scheme of things? You've seen and DONE crazier than anything anyone can ever throw at you. So (To a certain extent. I really don't want to be getting behind the wheel for anyone unless absolutely necessary) bring it on. You've definitely been weirder – probably even today.


5. You are hyperaware of absolutely everything going on around you. 
No one can ever accuse you of being oblivious. You know what your significant other is up to, what their conversation with their friends is centering around, what the couple is bickering about at the next table over, how your waitress feels about the whole ordeal. You're in it; you've got it. It makes you an excellent judge of the overall situation and, also, kind of an amazing source if anyone ever needs some t to spill. 


6. You wear your heart on your sleeve. 
Let's face it. You've spent so long trying to dampen, lessen, crush, and condense your emotions… and for what? To eventually end up a panicky, sweaty, hot mess outside of a crowded bar because you tried to "contain" it? No. Not anymore. Now you say what you want, what you mean. You don't try to hide anything. Not the bad parts, and certainly not the good parts. Your feelings are nothing to be ashamed of – take it or leave it. 


7. Your empathy tolerance in incredibly high. 
Like I said before, once your stress cries end up on someone's shoulder, it makes it pretty easy to tolerate things. You just get it. It doesn't matter if someone is being irrational or if their pain just doesn't make sense. You know that ultimately at the end of the day, what matters is that it makes sense to THEM. That in that moment, that pain is theirs. And you will do whatever you can to be there for them and help lessen it as much you can. 


8. Through thick and thin, you aren't going anywhere .
Living with anxiety is a real bitch. Essentially you have to learn how to live with two sides of yourself and, eventually, find a way to have those sides coexisting harmoniously. If you can tolerate and deal with every weird, neurotic, shaky, unreasonable, jumpy part of your own self, you can deal with someone else's. And be equally as accepting and unapologetically loving about it. TC mark

7 Fantastic, Underrated Movies You Can Watch On Netflix Tonight

Posted: 26 Oct 2015 03:00 PM PDT

1. The Snowtown Murders (2011)

The Snowtown Murders - Official Trailer / Youtube
The Snowtown Murders – Official Trailer / Youtube
The Snowtown Murders - Official Trailer / Youtube
The Snowtown Murders – Official Trailer / Youtube

10 Words or Fewer Summary: Unflinchingly dark story of notorious Australian murder spree

Let me get the adjectives out of the way: startling, raw, mesmerizing, disturbing, unforgettable. The Snowtown Murders, a first-time film from Australian director Justin Kurzel (in their insatiable hunger for young directors to helm their franchises, Hollywood has snatched him up to direct next year's Assassin's Creed), tells the story of one of the continent's most notorious and brutal murder sprees. Kurzel does not shy away from the gruesome nature of these crimes, many of which were perpetrated against suspected pedophiles in an economically depressed suburb. The Snowtown Murders is so gut-wrenching and unsettling in its depiction of both unspeakable inhumanity and quotidian misery that I can't imagine I'll ever be able to re-watch it, but it's also directed with breathtaking visual style, intelligence, and genuine empathy. Daniel Henshall is legitimately horrifying as John Bunting, orchestrator of the murders and one of the most heinous father figures in cinematic history, and Lucas Pittaway is excellent as the confused and abused young man caught under his spell. A real stunner.

2. The Guest (2014)

The Guest Official Trailer #1 (2014) - Dan Stevens Thriller HD
The Guest Official Trailer #1 (2014) – Dan Stevens Thriller HD / Youtube
The Guest Official Trailer #1 (2014) - Dan Stevens Thriller HD / Youtube
The Guest Official Trailer #1 (2014) – Dan Stevens Thriller HD / Youtube

10 Words or Fewer Summary: Grieving family takes in nice, young man – oops, he's insane

I was totally bowled over by The Guest, a thriller with shades of action and comedy and mystery and horror, released (and largely forgotten) just last year but imbued with the intelligence and style of the finest genre films of the 70s and 80s – I truly think it's one of the 20 or so best films released so far this decade. The director (Adam Wingard) and screenwriter (Simon Barrett) of the promising, but far less polished You're Next reteamed for this story about an Afghanistan War vet who returns home, unexpectedly shows up at the doorstep of his fallen comrade's family, and begins to seemingly solve all of their problems. Dan Stevens (Downton Abbey) is magnetic in what should've been a star-making turn as the unblinking vet who slowly begins to seem less like a knight in shining armor and more like a sociopath with an impressive six-pack. It can be viewed as a metaphor for the sinister intentions of American foreign policy, but the film operates most efficiently as visceral entertainment, a simple but evocative conceit masterfully executed. If only every summer blockbuster could be as exciting, as funny, as fresh, and as invigorating as The Guest.

3. Faults (2014)

'Faults' Official Trailer#1 (2015) Mary Elizabeth Winstead, Leland Orser Thriller HD / Youtube
‘Faults’ Official Trailer#1 (2015) Mary Elizabeth Winstead, Leland Orser Thriller HD / Youtube
'Faults' Official Trailer#1 (2015) Mary Elizabeth Winstead, Leland Orser Thriller HD / Youtube
‘Faults’ Official Trailer#1 (2015) Mary Elizabeth Winstead, Leland Orser Thriller HD / Youtube

10 Words or Fewer Summary: Parents hire loser to kidnap daughter away from dangerous cult

Faults, like The Guest, is an unrecognized New American Classic, overlooked and unheralded because it lacked a faux-indie marketing campaign or appropriately sober and restrained subject matter (as compared to something safe and really shitty, like, say Foxcatcher). Director/writer Riley Stearns's wonderful, eccentric dark comedy follows a cult expert (the spectacular Leland Orser) hired by desperate parents to kidnap their daughter (an equally impressive Mary Elizabeth Winstead), a member of a mysterious cult known as Faults, and deprogram her. That's fertile ground for a fascinating story, but one of Faults' biggest strengths is its out-of-left-field unpredictability and oddness. Faults is primarily a wonderful character study – Leland's Ansel is one of the most broken-down and self-hating characters in recent years, yet he remains human and endearing, and we care deeply about what will become of him and Winstead's Claire. Stearn handles the material with the sardonic wit and nihilistic spirit of the Coen brothers, and his only misstep is an ending that robs the film of an ambiguity that heightens the cryptic spell it casts over viewers.

4. The Unknown Known (2013)

The Unknown Known Official Trailer #1 (2014) - Donald Rumsfeld Documentary HD / Youtube
The Unknown Known Official Trailer #1 (2014) – Donald Rumsfeld Documentary HD / Youtube
The Unknown Known Official Trailer #1 (2014) - Donald Rumsfeld Documentary HD / Youtube
The Unknown Known Official Trailer #1 (2014) – Donald Rumsfeld Documentary HD / Youtube

10 Words or Fewer Summary: Fascinating documentary takes on Donald Rumsfeld, American foreign policy

Celebrated documentarian Errol Morris' most recent full-length feature examines former Bush regime Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld, using interviews and excerpts from Rumsfeld's apparently voluminous archive of memos as its basis. The film covers Rumsfeld's entire career, but primarily centers on his highly criticized role in America's foreign relations after 9/11. Morris' typically superb production values, including some fascinating visual motifs and a Danny Elfman score, often undermine Rumsfeld's contradictory rhetoric. But The Unknown Known doesn't paint him as a cartoonish buffoon or a hand-wringing villain – unlike other reviewers, I gathered that he was unconsciously deluding himself with his evasions and redirections rather than the audience. Rumsfeld comes across as an intelligent figure (albeit one with a freakish obsession for dictionaries), either unable or unwilling to extricate himself from a muddled political and moral quagmire.

5. Housebound (2014)

Housebound - Horror Movie Trailer 2014 / Youtube
Housebound – Horror Movie Trailer 2014 / Youtube
Housebound - Horror Movie Trailer 2014 / Youtube
Housebound – Horror Movie Trailer 2014 / Youtube

10 Words or Fewer Summary: Delinquent sentenced to house arrest – oops, the house is haunted

This New Zealand horror-comedy from first-time director Gerard Johnstone (who also scripted and edited) is quirky, endearing, and highly entertaining. The story follows Kylie, a twentysomething fallen into crime and drugs, as she gets sentenced to 8 months house arrest with her doddering mother and a stepfather she aptly describes as "a cabbage in a polar fleece." What Kylie doesn't realize is that her house arrest will also involve close proximity to ghosts, homicidal neighbors, blathering therapists, and puttering paranormal-investigating ankle-bracelet monitors. The style is definitely influenced by the work of fellow New Zealander Peter Jackson, but Housebound works better as a genuine comedy than Jackson's earlier work. This is a very effective crowd-pleaser – Housebound is drastically more fun than 95% of Hollywood blockbusters, thanks to its genuine unpredictably and finely-tuned comedic chops. Destined to be a cult classic.

6. A Hijacking (2012)

Trailer - A Hijacking (Kapringen) TRAILER (2012) - Danish Movie HD / Youtube
Trailer – A Hijacking (Kapringen) TRAILER (2012) – Danish Movie HD / Youtube
Trailer - A Hijacking (Kapringen) TRAILER (2012) - Danish Movie HD / Youtube
Trailer – A Hijacking (Kapringen) TRAILER (2012) – Danish Movie HD / Youtube

10 Words or Fewer Summary: Somali pirates hijack ship & crew, tense negotiations ensue

It's difficult to watch Denmark's A Hijacking without comparing it to Captain Phillips: both films tell the story of cargo ships captured and held for ransom by AK-toting Somali pirates. While we're playing the comparison game, they're also both excellent. But what separates A Hijacking is that it splits its time between the nightmare unfolding on the ship (told through the P.O.V. of an everyman cook named Mikkel) and Peter Ludvigsen, the impeccably mannered, wealthy CEO of the company that owns the ship. Ludvigsen takes responsibility for negotiating demands with the pirates, and the film gets a lot out of this capitalistic haggling over the value of human lives, observing its effects on the CEO, the cook, and the Somalian interpreter who maintains a cryptic relationship with the other pirates. It is high praise to note that the scenes of grim boardroom meetings are every bit as fraught and riveting as those of the hostages being ordered around at gunpoint. A Hijacking feels highly realistic and is often almost unbearably tense, but its intelligence and sensitivity makes it truly unforgettable.

7. Killing Them Softly (2012)

Killing Them Softly - Official Trailer (HD) / Youtube
Killing Them Softly – Official Trailer (HD) / Youtube
Killing Them Softly - Official Trailer (HD) / Youtube
Killing Them Softly – Official Trailer (HD) / Youtube

10 Words or Fewer Summary: Mob hires Brad Pitt to kill a bunch of idiots

Killing Them Softly's marketing campaign did the film a disservice and disappointed audiences – while it passed itself off as a trigger-happy crime film starring Brad Pitt, it turned out to be a talky, cynical ensemble crime film featuring a bunch of bumbling goons bickering their way through low-stakes heists and hits. If, like me, you're more intrigued by the latter than the former, you'll be thrilled by Killing Them Softly's intelligent, realistic, and darkly funny take on the American underbelly. Director Andrew Dominik captures the dialogue-heavy character interplay with a verve most directors reserve for action set pieces, and he has assembled a spectacular cast that plays wonderfully off one another (including Pitt, Scoot McNairy, Ben Mendelsohn, Richard Jenkins, James Gandolfini, and Ray Liotta). There is a political message juxtaposing President Obama's campaign talk of hope and community with the economic struggles of these marginal lives, but Dominik makes his point with such repetition and force that it becomes more subplot than subtext. However, what Killing Them Softly lacks in subtlety, it more than makes up by creating such a believable landscape of existential depravity. TC mark

My Uncle Sends Me A Box Of Trash Every Year For My Birthday. Here’s What He Sent This Year.

Posted: 26 Oct 2015 02:00 PM PDT

Provided by the author.
Provided by the author.

As far back as I can remember, my Uncle David has always sent me a box of trash on my birthday.

To be fair, it's not so much "trash" as it is items that might be leftover from a garage sale. You might then take these items to a charity, where they'd kindly be denied. They’d become trash when you stop by a dumpster on the way home.

Last year's box contained a genie lamp, an '88 class ring, and inflatable globe. The box from the year before that contained a Hustler DVD, self-tanner, and cake knife. And the box from the year before that contained a CD of Timeless Jewish Songs, and my favorite, a masturbating monkey pin.

Basically, it works like this – throughout the year, anything Uncle David has handpicked, hoarded, or considered throwing into the trash ends up in the box. Mostly the last one.

This past week, two overpacked cardboard boxes arrived at my doorstep, both addressed to "Alex Mann, Esq." (I'm not a lawyer.) My birthday is soon, so I knew what they were. I drag the boxes into my apartment, tear them open, and lay out the items.

Provided by the author.
Provided by the author.

The first thing I notice is there are considerably more items than previous years – almost 100, compared to the usual 20-30. This took some serious scavenging and packing. With all that free time, I consider telling Uncle David he needs to find a hobby, but then realize he already has one.

The second thing I notice is the item on the top left. It's the biggest, heaviest thing Uncle David has ever sent me. The note on it reads, "I can honestly say this is the most unique and unexpected gift of all time."

I decide to save it for last.

Where do I start? The item with a Canadian two dollar coin taped to it seems like a good enough choice.

Provided by the author.
Provided by the author.

"This has a theime." I'm intrigued by what this "theime" might be. I tear off the wrapping paper and find…

Provided by the author.
Provided by the author.

A rawhide drum with a penis drawn on it! I figured out the "thieme." I think.

Next, I open the package that reads, "vintage sweet!!"

Provided by the author.
Provided by the author.

An old Hershey's chocolate bar, perhaps?

Provided by the author.
Provided by the author.

Almost. It's a broken 4th generation iPod. Man, I wanted one of these like ten Hanukkahs ago.

The next item has an Elvis reference on it.

Provided by the author.
Provided by the author.

I open it and find…

Provided by the author.
Provided by the author.

Three packs of Elvis Presley trading cards, and one Uncle David trading card.

Next, I go for the item that promises "lots o sac's," which seems on "theime."

Provided by the author.
Provided by the author.

I tear off the wrapping paper and find…

Provided by the author.
Provided by the author.

Lots 'o sacks, literally, inside a Dave & Buster's mug. I wonder how many games of Big Buck Hunter Uncle David had to win to get it.

The next item promises to be useful for my dating life.

Provided by the author.
Provided by the author.

I open it and find…

Provided by the author.
Provided by the author.

Anchor earrings! Cool. Thanks, Uncle David. Really thoughtful. I'd say more but I'm too busy having sex with the girl I gave them to.

Uncle David was feeling generous with the next one.

Provided by the author.
Provided by the author.

Thank you for making my friends a part of this journey.

Provided by the author.
Provided by the author.

Three American flag dog tags?! Wow. I'm definitely keeping all three for myself. Sorry, friends.

I'm ready for this box to pay off, so I decide to open the item that promises to be not just "collectable," but "very collectable."

Provided by the author.
Provided by the author.

I tear it open and find…

Provided by the author.
Provided by the author.

Not one, but several "Class of 97" pins. I'm going to start wearing one to commemorate the year I graduated third grade.

The next item hints at Uncle David's nostalgia.

Provided by the author.
Provided by the author.

I open it and find…

Provided by the author.
Provided by the author.

A container that says "hey buddy" with a picture of a random bald guy. He seems chill.

Provided by the author.
Provided by the author.
Provided by the author.
Provided by the author.
Provided by the author.
Provided by the author.

Other highlights from this year's box include:

A can of Captain Kim's tuna that I definitely won't eat.

Provided by the author.
Provided by the author.

A "Merry Christmas Grandma" card, perfect for the grandma who celebrates Christmas that I don't have.

Provided by the author.
Provided by the author.

A Christmas card for me, too.

Provided by the author.
Provided by the author.
Provided by the author.
Provided by the author.

Virginia "Ginny" Hronek's real estate calendar, which Uncle David uses to remember my birthday.

Provided by the author.
Provided by the author.

Motivational temporary tattoos. !emosewA

Provided by the author.
Provided by the author.

A collectable Indiana Jones spoon.

Provided by the author.
Provided by the author.

In case you're wondering – yes, it lights up.

Provided by the author.
Provided by the author.

The severed head of Austin Powers.

Provided by the author.
Provided by the author.

The non-severed head of Austin Powers.

Provided by the author.
Provided by the author.

Another pack of Elvis Presley trading cards, stickers, and a Bill Clinton audiobook, read by the author.

Provided by the author.
Provided by the author.

By the time I opened everything, my trash can was filled with tape and wrapping paper. But there was one item left. The last item, which in Uncle David's words, promised to be "the most unique and unexpected gift of all time."

Provided by the author.
Provided by the author.

I hesitate to open it. Doing so will mark the end of another year, the end of another birthday, the end of another Uncle David's box of trash.

I consider not unwrapping it, and leaving the item somewhere in my apartment as a reminder of my unique bond with Uncle David and the mystery that comes with each year's box.

Okay, I don't actually consider doing this. I tear off the wrapping paper and find…

Provided by the author.
Provided by the author.

A giant ear! This is great. The next time an ear doctor tries to explain something to me, I'll just be like, "Dude, I know."

Uncle David's box of trash is the best part of my birthday, and proof that things that belong in a dumpster can be the most meaningful of all.

Thank you, Uncle David. Thank you very much. TC mark

21 Little-Known Facts About ‘The West Wing’

Posted: 26 Oct 2015 01:00 PM PDT

Youtube / rigmutton
Youtube / rigmutton

1. Martin Sheen wasn’t the first choice to play the role of President. The production team actually planned on tapping Sidney Poitier for the role, but talks didn’t “go far.”

2. In addition, the President wasn’t even meant to be a frequent character in the series! The original idea was that POTUS might pop in every few episodes, but the focus would stay solely on the White House staff. Martin Sheen was so skilled at the part, however, viewers clamored for more.

Instagram Photo

3. Actually, the whole show was originally supposed to circle specifically around Sam Seaborn. The strong performances of the entire cast, however, transformed The West Wing into more of an ensemble performance, which is one of the reasons Rob Lowe (who played Seaborn) would leave at the end of season 4.

4. NBC was anxious about green-lighting an intellectual show with so much heavy dialogue, and originally asked Aaron Sorkin to include some “action scenes.” One of their suggestions was for the pilot episode where a group of Cuban refugees were stranded at sea. NCB floated the idea that Josh Lyman should raft out into the Gulf of Mexico and personally save them.

5. Martin Sheen put his jacket on like a badass because of a severe arm injury he suffered as an infant.

6. All the actors couldn’t stop pranking each other while on set. By far, the worst culprit was Joshua Malina, who once put stolen computers in a director’s trailer, and created a fake Twitter for Bradley Whitford spewing off “drunken” ramblings questioning his sexuality. Whitford got his revenge by writing a scene where Malina’s character, Will Bailey, had to emphatically say the phrase, “I am a terrible actor.”

There is a fine line between being the life of the party and being unemployable. — Joshua Malina

7. CJ Cregg’s flirtatious affairs with reporter Danny Concannon were actually based on the true dynamic between Clinton White House Press Secretary Dee Dee Myers and her husband who was a New York Times reporter.

8. Donna Moss was expected to be an extremely minor part on the show, so much so that actor Janel Moloney kept her hostess job through the first few episodes of season one.

9. Kathryn Joosten, the actor who played Dolores Landingham, killed off her own character by telling Aaron Sorkin about her plans to join the cast of another show . Reportedly, minutes after Jooston told him of her plans, Sorkin creepily declared that he was going to, “Kill Mrs. Landingham.”

10. When Mrs. Landingham was killed off at the end of season two, the real life California General Assembly had a moment of silence in her memory.

Associated Press, 2001, via Westwingepguide.com
Associated Press, 2001, via Westwingepguide.com

11. Despite being the show’s creator, and at its head for four seasons, Aaron Sorkin’s daughter has never seen an episode of The West Wing.

12. Aaron Sorkin never really intended to pitch The West Wing. He wasn’t planning to move to television, but his agent bullied him into going to a meeting with producer John Wells, and the night before, Sorkin’s friend Akiva Goldsman suggested a show about White House staffers. When Sorkin went to his meeting with Wells that is precisely what he pitched, and Wells totally loved it.

John got down to business and said, “What do you want to do?” And instead of saying, “I’m sorry, there’s been a misunderstanding. I don’t have anything to pitch,” I said, “I’d like to do a series about staffers at the White House.” — Aaron Sorkin

13. Filming for the series oftentimes went very late into the night. Aaron Sorkin was notorious for taking too long with a script, and production tended to drag.

14. The show had tons of real world political consultants. Press secretaries from the Bush and Clinton White Houses, as well as congressional aides helped give the show a realistic flavor.

15. Once, when filming in Washington DC, Bradley Whitford got invited to the White House situation room for drinks.

16. There is one totally out of canon episode that was filmed as a response to the September 11th, 2001 attacks called “Isaac and Ishmael.”

17. There is a community of twitter accounts for West Wing characters, and even nine years after the show’s end, many of them are still going strong.

18. Richard Schiff greatly disliked the direction his character, Toby Ziegler, took in the last season. Toby confessed to betraying President Bartlet and leaking classified information to a New York Times reporter, which goes against pretty much almost everything we know about Toby. Schiff has said that he justified plot-line in his head by believing that Toby was covering for someone else in the administration.

19.  There is a great deal of controversy about whether the presidential election victory of Matt Santos was influenced by the death of Leo McGarry’s actor, John Spencer. Show producer Laurence O’Donnell claimed that Arnold Vinick was originally supposed to win, but the result was re-written after Spencer died, as an electoral defeat and death of a running mate might be too dark an ending for the series.

Instagram Photo

Others, however, have come forward to say that Santos was always suppose to win, while others still have said that the skilled “campaigns” of both actors had the screenwriters debating who should win all the way up ’til the end.

20. CJ Cregg’s rendition of “The Jackal” was inspired by actor Allison Janney doing the routine in her trailer between sets. Aaron Sorkin thought it was so funny he plopped it right in the series.

21. Fox’s Minority Report actually takes place in The West Wing universe. The pilot episode has a scene that takes place in “Bartlet Plaza” which was named in memory of a certain former President. TC mark

15 Struggles Of Being ‘The Creative One’ In An Uncreative World

Posted: 26 Oct 2015 12:01 PM PDT

IMG_2184

1. You grew up with pressure to secure a ~*~practical~*~ job. You were told starring on Broadway did not count as such.

2. You hate it when people ask you what you want to do. Your gut reaction is that you'll be judged for not responding doctor/lawyer/banker/CIA agent in space. So you do the classic shoulder shrug and mumbling “I don’t know” combo.

3. The response to this is always “Oh, don’t worry! You have plenty of time!”

4. You’re painfully aware you don’t actually have “plenty of time.”

5. You internally fight between following the “conventional route” and what you secretly really, really, really, really, really, really, really want to do. Unfortunately this involves considering how little money you could potentially end up making by pursuing the latter.

6. Once you convince yourself to focus on finances and reality, and you suppress your artistic urges, you feel dead inside. Is this really what the rest of your life is supposed to be?

7. But you're told that your creative side is just a hobby to pursue during your free time. So you attempt to listen to that and convince yourself of it.

8. You worry about living a life filled with regrets.

9. Because the thing is, you want to create. You want to channel all your confusion over your future life choices into something amazing that will prove, once and for all, that you were right all along. That creativity means something. You can contribute to society without selling your soul and happiness to a job you’ve been told you should want.

10. As you grew up, you developed thick skin. You face a lot of rejection—from both close family and friends—and so you’re used to garnering up some fake confidence to help you carry on.

11. You constantly fear becoming a "starving artist." Mostly because it would prove your doubters right.

12. With a creative mind comes great uncertainty. You're never positive about the obstacles you're going to face. You sometimes enjoy the ambiguity of the lifestyle, but most of the time it’s really tough.

13. Somedays ~*~it~*~ hits you ferociously, and you're writing away furiously, completely in the zone without the help of Adderall or coffee. You’re on top of the world. Suck it, 5th grade teacher who told you you were a source of concern because you couldn’t do long division— you’re writing and killing it.

14. Other days, you're staring blankly at that Word document wondering how you could ever think you could do this. Your parents were right. Your friend who got a summer internship at Goldman Sachs was right. That one teacher who gave you a B+ on a paper about The Scarlet Letter knew it all along. Ugh.

15. But whether it’s good days or bad (and, at times it feels like it’s mostly bad), you’re emotionally entangled and heavily invested in every product you create. You cannot detach yourself from the process and it drains you in the best way possible. You wouldn’t exchange your creativity for anything else in the world. TC mark