Please just direct your questions to Cheshirecopycat. (Mo) thank you.
Please go send your asks about gills whereabouts to cheshirecopycat. Thank you.
I went to bed last night thinking about Pretty Little Liars. Normally, this is not a bad thing, but the past two nights, I’ve went to bed terribly frustrated with the show in general. Yesterday, after reading the cavalier attitude of Marlene King about how she feels confident that Ezra can be redeemed because Paige was redeemed, I was even more frustrated.
In fact, I was livid. I was livid because she equated the actions of Paige to those of Ezra.
What Paige did is not and could never be the same thing as the actions of Ezra Fitz.
The actions of a closeted, bullied, gay teenager are not the same as a grown man committing statutory rape and stalking teenage girls in the name of a story.
And to call what Paige did to Emily a drowning….
I cannot even begin to articulate my level of disappointment with that statement. It was not a drowning. Many other people have expressed this better as to why it wasn’t, so I won’t get into that. It was merely a scare tactic by a scared teenager. Unfortunately, by calling it a drowning, you give the Emison fans and Paige haters more fire for their shipping war. “See even Marlene says it was a drowning. Paige is an abuser!” Ugh….the flame burns hot again.
The bigger issue is Paige’s actions compared to Ezra’s. I don’t even understand how that comparison can even be made. Do the writer’s really lack a fundamental grasp of morality? More likely, they do but overlook morality in the name of bad writing and ratings. Whatever teh reason, the very comparison is vile and disgusting.
The two things are not even remotely the same.
When we first met closeted Paige McCullers in Season 1, she had already been bullied so badly by Alison for being gay that she had self-harmed and almost committed suicide. Her competitive fire was the only thing that kept her alive. Paige’s self-loathing was so palpable it strangled ever aspect of her lego-hair, cardigan wearing, regimented life of control. Paige was a survivor and her careful self-control was her way of surviving. Unfortunately, when Emily returned to swimming, the old feelings that she had been carefully controlling exploded, and she began to feel things for Emily that she absolutely could not let herself feel, not again. She had been vulnerable to Emily once before, and the consequences were dire. Even if that Emily Fields was Ali wearing one of her many masks of manipulation, the damage had been done. Paige had opened herself up to Emily and let herself feel, let herself hope. And it backfired. Horribly. Paige was mocked and manipulated and blackmailed for her feelings of hope and love. She barely survived.
story time when i was 16 my mom and i were watching ellen and my mom says
‘oh look my favorite lesbian!’
and i said ‘i thought i was your favorite lesbian?’
and she just stared at me for a moment and said
‘oh ok. ‘
and we just continued watching
and thats how i came out to my mother
this is beautiful
This is great
Yeah. I’m okay. Thank you. Its just… someone I really didn’t want to find it found my blog. She isn’t to happy about what’s in it…
I hate you…. I couldn’t actually hate you but don’t you understand? This is the only place I’m safe in this world. No one where we live is accepting. No one understands. You of all people don’t. You want me to delete the only thing that makes me happy. And with it goes the people who care about me most. When I feel so alone that I don’t want to live anymore, this is where I come. My dad would have me committed, my mom would cry, and I don’t want to hear or see it. You. You would remind me how the life I’m “choosing” to live is sending me to hell. Every night I’m alone I cry myself to sleep hearing your voice or my moms or Tara’s or my dads telling me that I’m a sinner. That I need fixed. This is the place where no one tells me where I’m going, or how bad of a person I am. They are broken just like I am, but I don’t try to fix them and they don’t try to fix me. I DON’T WANT FIXED. I don’t want to hear you tell me to delete it, I don’t want to hear you talk about my posts or my obsession with Paily, or anything about any of it. If I could get you to just stop being on my blog for ever I would. I’d beg. Because this is my runaway. Let me run…