At The End Of The Day I Think What This Post Is Missing Is An Understanding That Situations Are Not Black

at the end of the day i think what this post is missing is an understanding that situations are not black or white. just because victor isn't bad doesn't mean he's good.

victor is flawed and he makes bad decisions that ultimately hurt those around him for very real and valid reasons.

OP has made the leap that, because victor isn't inherently bad, he is inherently good/right. then this is taken a step further by saying that because victor is good, adam must be bad. this point is justified through a series of entirely misconstrued and twisted retellings of the events in the book.

adam is flawed and he makes bad decisions that ultimately hurt those around him for very real and valid reasons.

they are both just guys -- humans living their lives and being flawed and hurting people.

I'm so protective of Victor Frankenstein, because everyone is like "the creature is actually completely right and he should have just made a second creature and it would be fine" or "he shouldn't have abandoned his creation" and like, come on.

First of all, he didn't abandoned the creature. He basically spent 9 months obsessing of creating this thing because (a) his mother died and he developed a morbid fascination with death to cope and (b) his father, instead of explaining why alchemy was a bad idea, just dismissed his interest out of hand. But the thing was that it wasn't //actually// supposed to work. And he also isn't eating or sleeping and he is mentally Not Well. But then the creature opens it's eyes and it's terrifying because even though it should be beautiful, being made of beautiful parts, it is still made of fucking corpses.

So, Victor passes the fuck out and wakes up after the creature has escaped. And then he's like, wtf was that?? Am I going insane?? He doesn't go looking for the creature because he thinks he made it up in his head. I think his friend was also like, "hey, dude, I think you just have a fever."

And then he finds out that his 6yo brother has been MURDERED and his childhood friend is accused of having killed the child, so he goes home. He can't even say, "hey, I think I made a monster that did this" because no one will believe him. And this creature shows up and tells him that it killed his brother simply because it hated Victor. It killed a young child because it wanted to hurt Victor. Now it wants Victor to make a second creature like the first.

And, for the record, the creature has been having a hard time because its a giant walking corpse and people aren't giving it a chance to prove that it can read Shakespeare. Here's the thing. The creature is smart. It reads classic literature. It speaks well. It is also cunning. After snapping William's neck, it frames Justine by slipping William's gold locket in her apron pocket.

Victor takes responsibility for this. He is aware at this point that he has fucked around and found out. He feels guilty about his little brother's death, and the execution of his friend. He agrees to create a second creature out of fear, but then decides that he will accept his fate and let the creature kill him because he is afraid that, given how terribly the first creature turned out, he will be endangering more people. What he didn't count on was that the creature would not actually kill him (he is its only shot at getting a companion, after all) and would instead kill his best friend and his wife.

The creature is lonely, but it's first response to rejection was not to seek its creator and ask for a companion. Its response was to murder people weaker than it, then seek out a companion from Victor through threats of violence. Why would he want to help it at that point? Why would he trust it?

i have been (at points): bisexual, homosexual, pansexual, polyamorous, heterosexual. with no words for what i really was, i was everything else. it was like shopping in the kid's section for shirts and trying them all on and just feeling horrible because none of them fit me right. nobody told me there were sections for adults. sex ed came and went with no mention of those who were celibate for any other reason than to not get an STD.

to this day, i still resonate heavily with the stupid car seat headrest lyric -

"but i don't care about hundreds of hypothetical people / and their hypothetical sex deals / i care about me, and my sex deal / what about my problems?"

(i used to think he was saying "sex feels", and even after looking up the real lyrics, i like my version better.)

to this day, every time i make a friend and become close enough with them, i think that maybe i've developed romantic feelings, because everybody says that when characters in media are this close, they're "in love". i was one of those good omens readers who felt that maybe book aziraphale and crowley WERE just amazing friends or in a queer platonic relationship, because why does every good love have to be romantic??

anywho. vent post over.

Valid. With or without validation. (A before there was an A.)

Asexuals, aromantics, and everyone else on the aspec are valid, and were valid even before we had a name for what we were.

In May of 1971, I was born different. There wasn’t a name for it. (The committee who wrote the Asexual Manifesto wouldn’t even form for another year and four months.) I was valid, but there wasn’t even a way to say what about me was valid.

In June of 1989, I graduated from High School. I was barely 18. I was still different. But in all those years, I’d never encountered the words aromantic or asexual. (Instead, I heard words like frigid, weird, secret f-g, psycho, virgin, and sheltered). In Career And Life Management class, where sex education was a brief module, they didn’t even mention X on the Kinsey Scale. We were told it was 1 to 6. Period. (I didn’t check, because I was X on the Kinsey Scale, which meant I didn’t care about things like the Kinsey Scale.) They managed to find a way to invalidate me without even naming the things they were invalidating!

By April of 1993, I graduated from college, still different. Now I was hearing kinder guess-names for what I was: Busy, focused, fussy, pure, a late-bloomer, and undecided. But I still hadn’t heard words like aromantic or asexual. I was at an art school. I heard all the other words. I saw people living all the other words. I saw bi couples, I had gay and lesbian friends and instructors, I had a pansexual classmate, and knew someone who was almost certainly pre-transition trans. I was aromantic and asexual but I had no way of finding those words, or being rescued from my confusion by those words. By this point, I didn’t even need validation, anymore. I just wanted understanding.

But I got sent out into the world, to go start my career, and figure out apartments, cars, taxes, utilities, setting up a business, and a million other adult things that took “housed-or-homeless” priority over “figuring out what was ‘wrong’ with me”. So, even though there were murmurs on the right talk shows, or screeds in the right ink-and-paper offline zines about asexuality and aromanticism, they weren’t in mainstream or sidestream discourse. I had to settle for “different, busy, and single-minded about his career”.

It would take until late 2022—over 29 years after I left college and 51 years after I was born—before I started noticing social media posts about “aroace” characters who didn’t feel love.

Now I had a name for my difference.

I knew exactly what I was, because everything I read about asexuality and aromanticism perfectly matched and explained the experiences I’d had, and the feelings I’d felt, since I first noticed I was different at age 12!

I’d been valid all that time. I saw the other posts saying we didn’t belong in this or that community, and the names should be broken up into more categories, and we were taking up space at pride festivals, and this was a made up thing that didn’t exist prior to… oh, fuck it, it didn’t matter. I was aromantic and asexual on the day I was born in 1971; before those two words were available to ordinary people. I was real, I was who I was, and I was valid, and even though I wasn’t allowed to know what I was for another five decades full of trauma and loss and hurt, I always was who I was, and so I always was valid, regardless of whether or not anyone else agreed.

And so are you.

the little things everywhere.

I'm very sorry to ask something like this, I've really been struggling with this question, and I wanted to ask the combined wisdom of the people on this site

I would like to know why you keep going, and what drives you to keep living. I know there are a lot of reasons to stay alive and enjoy life, I can think of a few that personally resonate with me, but I really want to know what your reasons are

You do not have to comment on this if that's too big of an ask, and I'm very sorry for asking something like this, I really need someone's help, I feel like I don't have much purpose

Also if I may ask, please don't post any suicidal ideation in the comments of this post, I really can't handle something like that right now