Smart Stroke Chinese 李小梅 finger writing to learn Chinese Characters the prettiest way using Skritter
so I’ve cut into the video a call to action to sell my shit. So if any of these videos spike again at least the traffic is being sold to. Because I’m a small YouTuber, I don’t have partner status, and that means I can’t put links in the video.
I wasn’t sure which name divination to do next? My own maybe? I have never thought about it. My name was a weird accident. When I came out as a baby, I did not cry. And everyone thought it was odd. So much so that the midwives said to my mother it was an omen, a baby who does not cry. And my mother told me she laughed when they handed me to her, because the first thing I did was yawn and scrunch my face up. I just wanted to go to sleep again.
mother told me I was a difficult birth, which is usually the case for a first baby. But she did dramatise it with visions of some scary white lady at the foot of her bed that started her labour in the course of a lightening storm. My mother is petrified of lightening and would always hide under the table when I was a kid.
but she couldn’t do that while she was fat and cumbersome and instead her waters broke on the bed, so she went to hospital in a storm.
probably a terrifying journey for her. So I was born some time around 7 am in the morning after a treacherous night for mother, who had to get J-cut because I was stuck, and needed to come out in a bit of the doctors hurry.
only to yawn and swallow my own face, as if to say what’s the fuss all about? So while they stitched my mother up, she inspected me and laughed out loud, how I was so swollen down below like a red plum. And so I was called little plum. Great. Because I had fat swollen parts that made her laugh out loud, while she was stitched up.
so I was born with a flood of fear hormones, and yet somehow, I didn’t react like a normal baby, the midwives called me a little doll, because I didn’t make any noise. And try as they might to check me out by slapping my ass upside down, all I did was grunt.
so when I was born I made my mother laugh. I was a little female doll with fat parts. And oh boy when I grew up, she carried on about it. So it had some weird effect on me, I didn’t want my parts to grow and change, and as they did… I suffered massive dismorphia. I grabbed my mothers medical books, and opened the page to vulvas, and didn’t like what I saw so I plucked all my hairs out in mild self torture, even though I was developing late.
I was uncomfortable with becoming woman, when it meant to me something about losing love already from my dad. And something awful too from my mother.
so if I do my own name divination, I wonder if there’s anything in it, that might heal my body dismorphia somehow? Because I’m reminded that my name is little plum, fat polished female parts, that make my mother belly laugh every time she thought about that first time she laid eyes on me. I was a doll, made of swollen sex parts. That she became so obsessive about, it split me right apart. Never mind the instant sexual abuse growing up, but having a name to constantly remind me of my parts, kinda screwed me up. Imagine labelling your son, little dick? For fun.
my japanese friend in anatomy class, told me she nick named her son “bell-end” as a cute thing. That shiny bulbous head, was a thing of jokes and cuteness. Imagine going around being called “dick head” while you are 2 years old. And then figuring it out when you become self-aware. What that means to you?
I thought it was kinda cute too, the nickname that she used. Only mine was no such nickname, mine was my given name. I think I would have preferred to be called “little cabbage”. Seriously. I would have preferred a whole yummy vegetable than a fruit of the loin. But I get it, I don’t blame my mum.
she had a tonne of testosterone, that gave me swollen parts, and as it absorbed into my body, I got a double dose of testosterone on my female genetics. Which fuelled my stubborn self assertion, lack of self empathy, and gave me ferocious drive, against myself. Without this boost of testosterone drive, I would not have survived. I would have committed suicide long ago from a lack of self awareness and loss of self after everything I had been through.
and as for my glue? The glia that carves your abilities from when you are 2? Well, my glia carved me the means to escape my body. I developed a dark sense of empathy, to feel not as others feel, but to sense the winds of darkness inside them. Which would not be possible at all if I could not escape my own body.
it is in escaping the body, that you are left with an ability to feel the void for what it is. And through training this special skill, the void can mirror how the winds move in other people’s bodies.
but, winds are never a good thing, because they stir insects of disease. And those hurried scrambling eddy loops, if from a chronic quiet wind, erode and program your immune system, to turn on you in foul ways.
so this is the way I knew of people, those that came close or entered my body, I could feel the gnawing insects in their body, like a wasps nest, waiting to erupt like a volcano swarm on the next change of winds in their body.
and I learned this young, before the age of 10, I knew how my dads friends were dying. And they did, one by one, they all died off, leaving my dad utterly alone in his old age. He cried to me and said he was the last one. But he escaped one form of death i had shown him when I was 14. And now, I knew he would forget me, and that would be his death
