#problematic
Watch “Problematic - Feel Safe” on YouTube
I keep chasing this high but I can’t seem to catch it
Hit a fork in the road, man I don’t ever listen
I keep exposing the truth, but live my life a lie
Behind these closed doors, they don’t see the war inside
Now momma getting older, my heart keeps growing colder
No sense of urgency but I been fighting like a soldier
I need some discipline, accept the fact that shit is over
Watching people falling like the leaves in mid-October
I’m a victim to my thoughts as a stable way
If I continue on like this I’ll fucking blow my brains
Have I gone insane? I’m losing all my patience
Stuck in traffic, I got anger issues, can’t contain ‘em
You’ll project your insecurities onto the next
Put up a barrier which makes it hard to love again
Serve and protect, been a struggle tryna make amends
So outrageous what I’m saying as I lay in bed
These stress levels not healthy
There ain’t really much you could tell me
Lately can’t explain, wanna run away
Someplace I can go where I feel safe
These stress levels not healthy
There ain’t really much that you could tell me
Lately can’t explain, wanna run away
Someplace I can go where I feel safe
Plotting, scheming, and I execute another record
Not motivated mentally, I live inside a prison
Do numbers matter if your happiness ain’t in the question
My OCD has got me triggered, now I’m second-guessing
No chance I am complacent, that’s such a honest statement
I’m bringing value to the table, but forgot to mention
How I been smoking, try to cope but though it’s temporary
I need a permanent solution, not the cemetery
Why explain it, you don’t listen, maybe I'ma burn it
You say you there for me but you ain’t there when I am hurting
These walls are talking man, I swear to God that I can’t hear 'em
Nothing is appealing like it used to be, I’m tired of bleeding
Don’t want your sympathy, I don’t even want your help
Cut negativity, no I don’t got nobody else
I play the role so good that they don’t see the mask itself
Hate my reflection, that’s the reason that I live in hell
These stress levels not healthy
There ain’t really much you could tell me
Lately can’t explain, wanna run away
Someplace I can go where I feel safe
These stress levels not healthy
There ain’t really much that you could tell me
Lately can’t explain, wanna run away
Someplace I can go where I feel safe
Through the storm, moving forward, yes, I’m still standing
By the grace of God and willpower I’ve managed
Picking up the piece, I can never solve this puzzle
Without failure can’t succeed, no wonder why I struggle
Far from perfect but improving on a daily basis
Physically I’m here but spiritually I should awaken
Overstressing, overthinking, pray it will get better
One day I'ma win this war but until then I won’t surrender, yeah
These stress levels not healthy
There ain’t really much you could tell me
Lately can’t explain, wanna run away
Someplace I can go where I feel safe
These stress levels not healthy
There ain’t really much that you could tell me
Lately can’t explain, wanna run away
Someplace I can go where I feel safe
Oh-oh, eh-eh
Oh-oh-oh-oh, eh-eh-eh-eh
Sherlock Holmes is fine with problems. More than fine. Problems are his job. More than his job. Problems are his life. Sherlock really wants to ask John something. Only, he’s not sure what…
In his frantic determination to complete his sensory catalog of John, Sherlock hits the boundary of social niceties by asking to gather insight from taste receptors. Oral fixation at its finest brings John and Sherlock past the point of platonic flatmates experimenting for quantifiable data into much more sexual territory. As Sherlock struggles to express his desires John faithfully waits for the opportune moment to participate.
Sherlock’s obsessive attention to gathering minutiae is brilliantly utilized in his approach toward initiating a dalliance with potential for growth. Third person narration alternates between Sherlock and John but does not interfere with the flow or clarity of the text. Despite his efforts to mask internal processing of his feelings, Sherlock is an open book for John who has been waiting just as patiently (if less compulsively). What I enjoy about this piece is the tension which carries through the first few chapters, blossoms at the actual tasting, and lingers through the resolution along with a certain levity. MATURE READERS ONLY.
Word Count: 6161
My Rating: A-
Read it here, fic by MrsNoggin.
Reviewed by: Becka
2D:
-Feeds Kinder Eggs to cats
-Eats Massive Dick
-Needs Murdoc to tie his shoelaces
-His name is literally Stu Pot… stewpot…
-Dated Rachel Stevens
-Mum Jeans
-Sold the Geep!!!
Murdoc:
-Turned green seemingly overnight
-Dressed as a nazi that one time
-Kidnapped Russel
-Kidnapped 2D
-*various Murdoc noises*
-He’s been wearing the same Cuban heels for about 16 years
-THE BAFF
-Hangs pictures of him cutting an onion up in his house
Russel:
-Likes eels
-Sleeps in the middle of the road
-Seems to be tired all the time (same tho)
-Probably cares too much
-There’s not really anything wrong with him. I’m finding this one really tricky. He’s so lovely please take care of this boy.
Noodle:
-???
-Umm…
-It says that for the new Humanz album, she pretty much Fed-Ex’d herself to the band again. Why? She didn’t need to do that. I mean, it’s cute because that’s how she initially arrived at the very beginning but like, the poor girl could’ve just got a plane. She finished Moby Dick though so that’s good. I hope she enjoyed it.
I fully expect this to be the one and only post I ever do about Amber Rose.
Occasionally, Amber Rose surfaces in pop-culture as a trending topic. I don’t look into her often, but when I do usually I understand where she’s coming from, if not agree with the point she’s trying to make.
Recently, Kanye West called her into a twitter-fight between himself and Wiz Khalifa–and she shut it down entirely. And as amusing as that is and no matter how much I identify with the things she said and does – there’s one thing about her that bothers me.
Amber Rose has repeatedly denied being a black woman. “Portuguese, Scottish, Italian and Irish“ or more often, “Cape Verdean.”
Yet she clearly appears to have features heavily associated with blackness: full lips, an olive complexion (relatively common in black people), a thick, very curvy body, and a large round butt. The icing on the cake: she has an African mom. She still says, “I’m not black.”
Many of the descriptors she uses for herself are nationalities that do not define her race. It’s as if stating countries which a possess white populations and/or have substantial European influence is a free pass on blackness – As if black people didn’t live in Portugal, Scotland, Ireland or Cape Verde. As if her mom didn’t wasn’t African.
But rest assured: her mother is African and she is brown-skinned.
Cape Verde, where Amber Rose’s mother is from, is an island off the coast of Western Africa. It’s an African Country. Africans have been there since the Portuguese trafficked African (black) slaves from the African continent in 1456.
And because of the heavy European influence and racial mixing in Cape Verde, they’re considered a mixed people – And According to Amber Rose, she views herself as Creole:
“With my family, they feel like they’re more superior or better than an African American because we’re Creole and we have culture and that’s something I battle with most of my life.” (source)
Amber Rose was born and raised in America. Her mother is a brown-skinned (black) African woman, she has a white father (Irish and Italian descent), and because she has light skin, she has people defending her as non-black.
“I do not consider myself a black women, absolutely not. [I consider myself] biracial.”
In the United States (and many other places), any black ancestry easily qualifies a person as black – especially if that person is not white passing and especially if that person has an African mother. Amber Rose is not white passing. Her mother is African. She openly participates in black culture. And still, she hesitates to even use the descriptor “black” in reference to herself. In every interview I’ve found and every quote, she is quick to claim her white ancestry but does not even utter “black” or “African.”
She denies it.
I think it’s wild because one of my best friends @shakotancisco is Cape Verdean. My mans is PROUD of his heritage. How can Amber Rose be of such beautiful heritage and hate herself so much to deny her own blackness?
This is one of the reasons why I can’t ride with Amber Rose. I know a lot of my followers may take issue with this, but aside from her apparent love for her child, nearly everything else she does seems to be nothing more than her making herself feel comfortable about her own delusions and justifying her behavior in the process. To me, it seems like her anti slut-shaming and sexual liberation crusade is less about standing up for (primarily) women (but men too), is a matter of cleaning up her own public perception.
Amber Rose makes herself the “other,” or, “the exception.” It’s as if she’s saying, “I’m not really black, I’m just a perfect mixture of races,” and this further supports the fetishization of mixed women. You mentioned that her reality was that she may not see love first and that using men for her own personal gain was just what she had to do. I can see that and it makes sense. However, in her case, it seems like she revels in it, almost maliciously, until someone calls her on it and she reverts back to the anti slut-shaming argument.
Though problematic, I enjoy her clapbacks and I think she’s hilarious in her pettiness. I liked (past tense) that she was providing a voice to those who own their sexuality. I liked (also past tense) that she was making a point to create her own lane and challenge the notion that she was a ‘creation’ of Kanye West. And I really liked (yup, past tense again) that she handled herself through the nonsense and media slander with grace and dignity.
But then, she goes on to deny her blackness and it immediately makes me distrustful of her. Without her clapbacks, is she much different than Raven or Stacey Dash? Is she even worth taking seriously if she denies who she really is? Is her carefully crafted persona nothing more than armor that she wears to protect her own insecurities about her identity? I just don’t buy it.
As a non-sex worker–I do not critique sex work which includes dancing, stripping, partial and full services.
She has sold/possibly still sells sexual fantasy/services/sexual appeal as a living – and she’s gotten a lot of money for it. If she revels in it, she has a right to. If someone is rewarded with money or items for sex acts/sexual performance/sex appeal, then that becomes a justified connection. In this entire side of the house, it’s incredibly important to note that if she does have a particularly toxic view of using men for money, it did not happen in a vacuum.
- Women’s societal value is largely in whether or not they’re attractive. Women can literally be fired for gaining weight in America.
- Both men and women who are less “conventionally attractive” tend to make less money (source)
- Black women earn 63 cents to every dollar a white man makes, and they are the most educated.
- “black” is literally a descriptor used to oppress people so it makes sense that some people would distance themselves from it–not to mention that this would have the additional trial of facing anti-blackness in everywhere they went.
You seem to be particularly upset by Amber Roses’s statement about using seductive skills on her significant others for cash, and that’s understandable.
Is it upsetting? Yes.
Is it manipulative to seduce a man into financial gain? Also yes.
Is it morally unsettling? Sure.
Is that the nature of her work as a dancer? As it turns out, yes.
Have her former lovers complained about using them? None that I can find.
She’s problematic. No argument there. You’re free to dislike her – which I’m sure you will continue to do. But she’s not doing anything new. Her misguided attempts at feminism seems less damaging than Phylicia Rashad defending Bill Cosby. Her rejecting blackness is sadly common.
She’s deeply problematic but far from the worst.
I don’t know where this recent idea came from that fiction has to be perfectly healthy anyway. Fiction is not inherently healthy and never has been, its not real, its for exploration and imagination. Fiction is separate from reality and that is why we like it. What you write about is not what you condone, Stephen King is not serial killer for writing about murder. People are not being “abuse apologists” for shipping two characters in a less than healthy way.
I’m sick of this new trend.
You don’t have to like a ship but you want to know what is actually hurting people? What is not promoting healthy behavior? Harassing shippers, telling them they’re disgusting over fiction, that kind of shining behavior antis exhibit.
Tag invaders (for one example) are displaying an unhealthy behavior. You don’t burst into your neighbor’s living room and tell them they’re gross for liking that television program. You don’t monitor their bedroom and tell them they practice their sex lives incorrectly—not if you’re a healthy individual, you don’t.
Of course, you see where I’m going with this.
So I’m watching The Big Bang Theory for the first time in a while. And as much as I don’t appreciate it as comedy, I do appreciate it as a form of self reflection. And therefore, find it amusing because I can relate to it