Variety (1983), Dir. Bette Gordon

Yusuke Kitagawa Fanart made with watercolor (2022) an old fanart

Inspiration: Innocence, Osho Zen tarot card

Persona 5 takes inspiration from the theory of archetypes by Carl Jung's and the book "Tarot an the archetypal journey” a book that combines the theory of archetypes and the symbolisms of the Tarot.

Yusuke in the game is related to the Emperor's card, as a tarot reader, I find it fun to look for what other tarot cards that would define him.

Innocence is a card that describes a person who lives life like a child but without begin one. The innocence of children is beautiful but ignorant. It will be replaced by distrust and doubt as the child grows up and learns that the world could be a dangerous and scary place. However, this innocence shows a person who has lived a full life and his intellect and acceptance of changes make his vision of life like that of a child.

Yusuke's innocent attitude does not arise from ignorance, arise from his sensitivity, knowledge and acceptance of his life.

“Peter Pettigrew awoke one morning from uneasy dreams to find himself transformed in his bed into a little rat.”

Sirius and Peter make me believe in karma. The dog and the rat suit them so well. I still don’t understand the connection between James and a stag, but Peter as a rat? Absolutely and the dog fits Sirius perfectly too.

I may not be Hindu, but sometimes it’s hard not to believe that a fly could be the reincarnation of an annoying person who wasted their life nervously wandering around. After flying so many times, maybe its few neurons align with the life of a fly. And doesn’t that remind you of Peter?

I don’t hate him , I actually find him an interesting character , but honestly, the way his Animagus form reflects his personality deserves an essay.

Sexual Violence: Concept, Implications, and Consequences

I'm going to say this very seriously because I couldn't care less if you dislike a character and have a pathological need to justify another one at all costs, just because you can't handle being a fan of a guy who wasn't actually a hero. I usually like characters who are absolute pieces of shit, so I have no problem with this, but it seems that some people take it way too personally.

But I don't care. I don't care if you hate Severus Snape. I don't care if you need to call him a Nazi or a racist or any of those things that are neither true nor have any real political, social, or cultural comparison within the lore of the saga. I don't care if you have to invent that he was a stalker or a harasser when he wasn't, or if you need to say he never showered and was ugly because you have the mental age of a five-year-old. I don't give a damn.

There is something beyond fandom, beyond personal taste, and beyond internet wars, and that is the fact of JUSTIFYING a sexual assault.

So, as someone who, due to life circumstances, has spent several years in therapy, had to go to therapy precisely because of being in relationships involving violence and abuse, and who also has training in the prevention of gender-based violence, sexual violence, and sexual abuse, I am going to extend an act of courtesy to all these people who, either out of ignorance, lack of knowledge, or simply because they have empathy shoved up their ass, are denying that certain things constitute sexual violence. I will provide a free lesson on this very serious topic, because I am seeing people who literally have the same discourse as the average potential abuser who denies violence unless the victim is half-dead in a hospital. And I will explain why this view is so incredibly problematic.

This post is going to be long, guys, so get ready:

Sexual violence is a complex phenomenon that encompasses much more than rape. There has been a concerning trend of minimizing or even denying certain forms of sexual violence. This has a serious impact on both society’s perception of these offenses and the struggle of victims for recognition of their suffering. I'm gonna address what constitutes sexual assault from a legal, moral, and psychological perspective, why it is problematic to deny or minimize it, and how such denial not only discredits victims but also contradicts the very principles that many people defend in other areas.

1. What Is Sexual Assault and What Acts Does It Include?

Sexual assault is not limited to rape. In general terms, any sexual act committed against a person’s will, without their consent, or through coercion can be considered sexual assault. This includes non-consensual touching, forced exhibitionism, sexualized verbal harassment, and, in some cases, acts that involve public humiliation of a sexual nature, such as forcibly stripping someone against their will.

From a legal standpoint, different jurisdictions have established that sexual violence does not require penetration to be considered an offense. For example, the Spanish Penal Code, following its 2022 reform, specifies that any act that violates a person’s sexual freedom without their consent is considered sexual assault. In other countries, similar legislation reinforces the idea that rape is only one form of sexual assault but not the only one.

2. The Importance of Consent

One of the key elements in determining whether an act constitutes sexual assault is consent. Consent must be explicit, informed, and voluntary. It is not merely the absence of a "no" but the presence of a "yes" that is free from coercion. In cases such as forced public stripping, the lack of consent is evident, and the humiliation imposed on the victim has an undeniable sexual component, making it an act of sexual violence.

Moreover, the perpetrator’s intent is not the determining factor in classifying an act as sexual assault. That is, the aggressor does not need to have a sexual intent; what matters is the impact on the victim and the nature of the act itself. This is a fundamental distinction in criminal law and forensic psychology.

3. The Psychological Impact of Sexual Violence

Sexual assaults have devastating consequences for victims. Various studies have shown that people who suffer this type of violence may experience post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), depression, anxiety, shame, and loss of self-esteem. In cases such as forced stripping, there is an added element of public humiliation that can generate an extreme sense of vulnerability and helplessness, with lasting psychological effects.

When it is denied that these acts constitute sexual assault, victims’ suffering is minimized, and their experiences are delegitimized. This is particularly serious when denial comes from individuals who identify as human rights advocates, as it perpetuates the very structural violence they claim to seek to eradicate.

4. The Minimization of Sexual Violence and Its Implications

Denying that certain actions constitute sexual violence has multiple negative consequences:

It minimizes victims’ suffering: By denying that something is sexual violence, victims are told that their pain is not legitimate or that their experience is not valid.

It discredits years of feminist and legislative struggle: For decades, feminist and human rights movements have worked to ensure recognition of the multiple forms of sexual assault. Denying these assaults is a step backward in these advancements.

It reinforces a culture of impunity: When sexual assault is justified or minimized, it contributes to a culture in which these acts are neither socially nor legally sanctioned.

It implies victim-blaming: Denying that something is sexual violence can lead to blaming the victim for their emotions or for "exaggerating" their suffering, which is a form of revictimization.

5. The Hypocrisy of Justifying Assaults Based on Ideology

A serious issue arises when certain sectors justify sexual violence against specific individuals based on their ideology or social position. It is deeply ironic and hypocritical that those who accuse a person of being a "Nazi" or "racist" without solid evidence then deny that this person can be a victim of sexual violence. This attitude is not only morally reprehensible but also aligns dangerously with historical strategies used by totalitarian regimes, where sexual humiliation was employed as a method of torture and punishment.

Denying sexual violence against someone because of their ideology is, in essence, justifying it. This is not only a form of dehumanization but also contradicts the principles of universal human rights. Legal protections must apply to all individuals, regardless of their ideology, past, or character. Justifying violence based on the victim’s ideology leads to a dangerously fascist stance, the very thing that many claim to oppose.

6. Conclusion about this:

Sexual violence is a structural problem that goes beyond fandom wars or ideological debates. It has real psychological damage, serious legal consequences, and a profound social impact. Denying or minimizing it is not only irresponsible but perpetuates a culture in which victims are silenced and perpetrators remain unpunished.

Those who consider themselves progressive and human rights advocates have a moral responsibility to be consistent in their discourse. One cannot condemn one form of violence while justifying another depending on who the victim is. Sexual violence is sexual violence, regardless of whom it is committed against, and denying it is a betrayal of the fundamental principles of justice and human dignity.

Black Phillip, I conjure thee to speak to me.

a few great films that are free on the internet archive

in decent quality too!

here is the archive collection of these films so you can favorite on there/save if desired.

links below

black girl (1966) dir. ousmane sembene

the battle of algiers (1966) dir. gillo pontecorvo

paris, texas (1984) dir. wim wenders

desert hearts (1985) dir. donna deitch

harold and maude (1973) dir. hal ashby

los olvidados (1952) dir. luis bunuel

walkabout (1971) dir. nicolas roag

rope (1948) dir alfred hitchcock

freaks (1932) dir. tod browning

frankenstein (1931) dir. james whale

sunset boulevard (1950) dir billy wilder

fantastic planet (1973) dir. rené laloux

jeanne dielman (1975) dir. chantal akerman

the color of pomegranates (1969) dir. sergei parajanov

all about eve (1950) dir. joseph l. mankiewicz

gilda (1946) dir. charles vidor

the night of the hunter (1950) dir. charles laughton

the invisible man (1931) dir. james whale

COLLECTION of georges méliès shorts

rebecca (1940) dir. alfred hitchcock

brief encounter (1946) dir. david lean

to be or not to be (1942) dir. ernst lubitsch

a place in the sun (1951) dir george stevens

eyes without a face (1960) dir. georges franju

double indeminity (1944) dir. billy wilder

wild strawberries (1957) dir. ingmar bergman

shame (1968) dir. ingmar bergman

through a glass darkly (1961) dir. ingmar bergman

persona (1961) dir. ingmar bergman

winter light (1963) dir. ingmar bergman

the ascent (1977) dir. larisa shepitko

the devil, probably (1977) dir. robert bresson

cleo from 5 to 7 (1962) dir. agnes varda

alien (1979) dir. ridley scott + its sequels

after hours (1985) dir. martin scorsese

halloween (1978) dir. john carpenter

the watermelon woman (1996) dir. cheryl dune

EDIT: part two here + the letterboxd list

Louise Burgeoise

The Dignity of Suffering in Silence: Snape as the Ghost of a Living Man

Severus Snape did not need to die to become a ghost. He already was one. Not in the dramatic sense—with clanking chains or flickering transparency—but in the far more tragic way:

He was present, but unreachable. He moved through the world, but nothing ever touched him back.

Not because he refused it. But because somewhere along the line, he decided he did not deserve to be held.

🕯 What Makes a Ghost?

It isn’t death. It’s what remains unfinished. A ghost is a person who still has something left behind—grief, guilt, longing—and no place to lay it down.

Snape had no grave for what he lost. No funeral for who he could have been. So he kept walking. Teaching. Protecting. Bleeding in silence.

He became a ghost of himself, not because he was weak, but because he had to keep going with no one to grieve him. Not even himself.

🕯 The Cost of Being Unheld

No one held Severus Snape. Not really. He wasn’t touched unless it was violence. He wasn’t spoken to unless it was demand.

He offered no softness because he received none.

And yet—he still gave. Still protected. Still fought for a future that would never welcome him.

He didn’t ask for kindness, because he believed that to do so would be indulgent. And indulgence was for the living.

🕯 He Did Not Haunt Hogwarts. He Haunted Himself.

Snape didn’t linger in the castle’s shadows because he was sinister. He did it because it was the only place where silence matched the volume in his mind.

He wasn’t afraid of the dark. The dark was quiet. The dark didn’t ask questions.

What haunted him was the memory of what he had done. What he failed to undo.

Every corridor was a past echo. Every student a reflection of someone he couldn’t save. He didn’t haunt Hogwarts. He haunted himself.

🕯 Silence Wasn’t Weakness. It Was Power.

He didn’t scream. He didn’t beg. He didn’t unravel in front of anyone.

Not because he couldn’t. Because he wouldn’t.

Snape held himself together out of strategy and survival. Because silence was the one thing Voldemort couldn’t extract, and Dumbledore couldn’t reshape. Because when the world gives you no permission to break, you learn how to endure beautifully.

🕯 The One Who Was Never Laid to Rest

There was no funeral—at least, none that was ever spoken of. No public farewell. Only a war, and then silence.

His portrait hangs at Hogwarts now—but it came later. After the world had rewritten the narrative enough to let him in. And even then, he does not speak from it. Not to us.

Legacy? Perhaps. But it feels uncertain—etched more in hesitation than celebration. His name, his work, his memory... handled like something delicate. Or dangerous. Not erased, but folded away, as if too many feared what it might reveal if honoured too loudly.

Perhaps that’s why he still lingers. Not in ghost-form. Not in frame. But in us.

In the ones who understand silence. Who dress in layers. Who never screamed, but should have.

He does not ask for mourning.

But he deserves to be seen.

He deserves to be laid to rest.

Even if it’s just whispered in quiet posts. Even if it’s just here.

snape chalk pastel

Hace tiempo que dejé de investigar sobre el eneagrama, pero algo que tengo claro es que soy un 9. No me puede estar dando un ataque de ansiedad y pensar, “pero por qué estoy teniendo uno si mi vida es tan tranquila” y aunque me digan exactamente los síntomas de la ansiedad y resuenen con mi manera de actuar recientemente, sigo pensando que esto no es algo ajeno a mí. Y aún lo sigo pensando, realmente no sé por qué paja tengo ansiedad jajaja

Hace poco vi una reseña de la película el faro, y en esa reseña analizaba las referencia simbólicas para dotar de la película una visión más “mágica”. Hablaba del infierno, pero un infierno parecido al de Dante, el castigo como trabajo duro. La repetición infinita hasta llevar a la persona a la locura. Más que pintar el infierno como algo profundamente doloroso con castigos con un coste físico elevados e inhumanos, te lo pintaban como un dolor más psicológico e invisible a primera vista. Un dolor aparentemente leve pero, tan repetido que te encaminaba a la locura. Y me sentí identificada, al final, entiendo que este dolor es el que sentimos todos diariamente, pero que sea habitual no quita que sea también dañino y perjudicial.

La inercia es horrible, pero desgraciadamente a veces es un hábito inconsciente, se me hace más fácil ver estas cosas cuando mis problemas están alejados de mí, cuando siento que pertenecen a otra persona, porque si no… minimizo “estos pequeños problemas” hasta que se acumulan. En el momento que están en frente mío sigo creyendo que esos problemas son tontos y que puedo seguir adelante. (Perdón por poner referencias de películas hasta en la sopa, pero el mar es lo único que me tranquiliza y con solo pensar que esa única cosa que me tranquiliza en algún momento me puede dar miedo o ansiedad me vuelve loca, pero esta vez de verdad)

Bueno, me voy a poner a ver H20 y así se me pasa jajaj.

Soy una persona autista. Normalmente me pongo los cascos incluso cuando estoy con amigos o familiares. Eso me provoca un sentimiento de culpa al pensar si estoy siendo contradictoria: “¿Estoy haciendo esto porque me siento incómoda con mi familia?” La realidad es que no. Mi familia es de las pocas personas con las que me siento a gusto, segura. Con ellos, todos mis fantasmas pasados, todas mis heridas, sienten lo que es el alivio, lo que es el bienestar, lo que es estar tranquila. Ahí sé que no todo es hostil, y que, por lo tanto, no es necesario estar en alerta.

Ahí es cuando pienso que quizás no es una contradicción, que más bien es un acto de supervivencia. Como un puente que une dos necesidades que, a veces, no saben funcionar juntas. Una necesita protegerse, quiere estar a salvo y a gusto, y aunque se encuentre en un lugar seguro, solo sabe actuar de la única manera que ha aprendido: aislándose, permaneciendo en la intimidad, en las sombras. La otra necesita amor, no quiere estar sola y disfruta de la compañía.

La música se vuelve un ritual, un intento de calmar un momento abrumador, una forma de abrir una puerta entreabierta. A veces solo llego a asomarme; no quiero abrirla del todo por el miedo que siento. Algo me susurra y me aconseja. Ese algo me dice que aún no es seguro abrirla por completo. Es una voz que probablemente parte del miedo, una advertencia disfrazada.

Es una lucha constante entre mi necesidad de estar conmigo misma, de intimidad, y mi necesidad de conectar.

Soy tan sensible que, a veces, interactuar con otros se me hace demasiado. Interactuar se vuelve una lucha por ser vista, por pertenecer a los lugares en los que mi cuerpo está, pero no los siento como propios. Es una lucha de identidades, de querer ser vista por alguien verdaderamente, ya ni siquiera sé por quién. Lo busco desesperadamente: puede ser un familiar, un amigo, o quizás solo quiero ser vista por mí misma.

Solo quiero ser vista, y no a través de fragmentos de otras personas. No quiero que mi identidad se forme a partir de cada señal de rechazo que recibo, a veces disfrazadas de comentarios inofensivos, otras veces simples miradas, y en las peores ocasiones, señales claras de que no quieren que forme parte de ese lugar. También está la ansiedad de no saber qué hacer con eso. ¿Qué puedo hacer? Lucho, ¿pero para qué lucho? ¿Qué busco exactamente?

En esos momentos me siento como el monstruo de Frankenstein. Ese monstruo que ni siquiera tiene nombre y que, como un niño pequeño, camina torpemente a la deriva. Una criatura hecha de partes ajenas, incompleta, tan extrañas que hasta a mí misma me cuesta comprenderlas.

Cada rechazo dibuja una nueva identidad. Una identidad creada sin consentimiento, armada con pedazos de otros, que ni siquiera son propios. Una identidad formada por comentarios que resuenan como ecos, por prejuicios que desfiguran partes de mi identidad, por palabras degradantes que hacen daño a mi autoestima. Que se acumulan en capas para construir una narrativa condenada desde el inicio a vagar en busca de pertenencia, amor, comprensión, como si ese fuera su único destino, ser incomprendida desde el principio.

El deseo de buscar una identidad propia se hace presente y no se detendrá hasta que lo consiga