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uelden · 3 years

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Vanity Fair interview translated

Just a side note before the actual translation; I don't know why, but instead of reporting the full questions and answers in full as she should, the journalist decided to report only summarized fragments of what Måneskin said and patch these fragments up into messy clusters. She also worded a couple phrases in a very confusing way (and yes, she's fully Italian). In short, she did quite a poor job, so the final shape of the interview is not that good. I didn't expect top-tier journalism from Vanity Fair but ffs. You'll see what I mean.

I translated it as it is, adding just a couple footnotes to give you insight on Italian pop culture references.

Translation under the cut

Måneskin: "Different from whom?"

by Lavinia Farnese, 09 June 2021

"True justice is being judged for what you do and not for what you are." The ones who are convinced of this are Damiano, Victoria, Ethan and Thomas who, by being the emblem of a generation that is finally free, refuse labels and conformism. In life, in love and on the stage. Where, maybe precisely because of this, they're winning everything

With the still unexpected (first place at Sanremo Festival) and the incredible (triumph at Eurovision) in their eyes, Måneskin are on the sofa of the house-studio they rented - to resume writing songs and rehearsing them - like you are after a won battle: lying in a calm and unreal silence, alert and a bit irreverent, happy.

In the garden there's the tennis table and the pool, the light of summer when it's starting and calming the country all around, and it filters inside from the large windows, and it goes onto the shining black of Ethan's hair, which blends with Thomas' eye shadow and the butterfly he has tattooed oh his naked forearm, which completes the picture of Victoria's golden crucifix hanging between neck and tank top and ends on the black nail polish of Damiano's stretched hands.

It's a human fresco, a Theatre of wrath [translator's note: "Teatro d'ira"] - to call it with the title of their latest album, a platinum record already - where their flaunted 20 years of age, their irregular femininity and virility are grown into proud and challenging custom, a pop glam rock generational manifesto of hard-earned liberties in a finally-unconditional expression of the self.

To watch them from any angle and from another age is to think that a great love will be born in those who'll understand: this new way of being in the world, the true and sovereign realm they hold where "diversity=exceptionality", the power of the artistic and cultural revolution of which they are healthy carriers in establishing in all lyrics and gestures the right to live according to one's own nature past the "people (who) talk, the people (who) unfortunately talk, and don't know what the fuck they're talking about." [tn: "Zitti e buoni" lyrics]

We go where we're afloat, where the air isn't gone. [tn: journalist's own variation on "Zitti e buoni" lyrics]

Miley Cyrus says hi – The numbers of a phenomenon

"The streams of Zitti e buoni are growing by the second, and they bring us above Muse, at the top of English charts, twelfth in the Spotify Global Chart. Followers almost tripled, in the post-Rotterdam period (from 1,4 to 3,3 millions, ed.) Contagious and universal folly: t-shirts and merchandising sold out in 10 minutes. Like the records, the tickets for a tour that keeps adding dates and expanding over geographic maps. They're contacting us even from some festivals were The Rolling Stones went." Thomas

"After the pretextual controversy over cocaine that France built against us, later disproven by my drug test, some graffiti popped up in Spain depicting me as a “No drugs” poster guy. Some tweets made us laugh: "Congratulations, Italy! I've never been more certain that four people have had sex with each other." Miley Cyrus started following us -You're great. -You guys are greater." Damiano

From the garage to the stars – Story of a flight

"It was only 2016, and we played in restaurants, in the streets, in via del Corso. Damiano without even a microphone, Thomas' guitar with wonky strings, Ethan was drumming on a cajón. During Rome highschools' sit-ins (Kennedy, Virgilio, Mamiani) we had our first confirmations and half-hours of celebrity, playing among those who criticized us and those who went "wow they're really cool." One of the rare times when they would have paid us – 50 euros each – we gave the money to the next band in the lineup so that they would make us play in their spot, later in the day, when there would have been more people. We had already realized how things worked. Visibility mattered more than money. And we still think that." Victoria

The intimacy of rock – Choice of a genre

"Music allows us the miracle of extending to others some very personal and private topics, sometimes even difficult and thorny ones. They are and they remain deeply your own, but at the same time they become a confession that reaches a wider audience, and in this passage that is alike a delivery, they find a place in you as well, a processing of them. You overcome them, you accept them. One second it's something aggressive, the next it's a ballad. Cathartic». Damiano

Against panic – The stage as therapy

"I've suffered a lot from anxiety and panic attacks, it's an issue I've worked on thanks to a psychotherapy course, my friends and my family. Playing helped me in not letting myself be paralyzed by my fears, not making myself limited in my private and professional life. I've learned to accept, to live with this side of myself. I don't hide it. I don't feel ashamed of it." Victoria

Analysis as necessity – Relying on someone saves you

"This belief that only madmen go to the psychologist is a widespread ignorance. No-one's born learned. [tn: common Italian saying] And it's often hard to understand the very reason why we're here, let alone the origin and direction of our desires. It's a long and legitimate journey towards lucidity, a kind of backing to become transparent." Damiano

Being out of our minds – But different from them [tn: "Zitti e buoni" lyrics]

"When you feel a strong passion towards something that is not a canonical job but an artistic language, that already puts you on a level of anomaly, which is not superior or inferior to other people, but it puts you in the position of the one who breaks the mold and also works at a loss, the one who sustains great risks while trying to do something that who knows if it will take you anywhere. "Why do it if it doesn't pay?". You want to give this dream of yours an aesthetic, but it becomes "You're dressing so weird! You must be gay!" - now that I'm 22 I laugh about it, but when I was 17 it had an effect on me, too." Damiano

The beauty of uniqueness – Of believing in it and defending it

"And I mean, at the end of the day if we're all different it's not because we want be alternative but because, really, no-one is the same. Justice is being judged on what you do and not what you are. Justice is equality, respect, beauty." Ethan

Fluid sexuality – Pride is freedom

"Heels for men that like themselves in them, kisses among ourselves, we have an open, extended mind, and we're proud of it. The horizons become vast, past the oppression of conservative families. With the information on the web knowledge becomes greater and with it the possibility that minorities will be less and less minorities, because the majority will be less of a majority. This way we'll make insults and bullying grow quieter. If social media get to a village of 50 souls and reveal to a girl who's afraid of the dark that someone has felt her same fear, then there's no reason to give a name to that fear, to mark it with labels which also limit and restrict. Definitions always had this effect on me. You shouldn't even consider the gender when judging someone, let alone their orientation." Victoria

Sexism – A culture to be dismantled

"Emma [tn: Emma Marrone, Italian singer] drops the bomb: “At Eurovision when I was there they massacred me for a pair of shorts, while they said nothing to Damiano – bare-chested and in heels.” The easy judgment against women is more fierce, constant, debasing (if I have a lot of sex I'm cool while Vic is a whore, where I show myself strong I'm a leader while Vic is despotic and a pain in the ass who reached success because she's hot.) As a male I'm privileged, the abuse I get is not comparable to those a woman has to live through, the comments over my aesthetic are centered only on my aesthetic and don't insinuate anything about my professionalism and my competence, while women are victims of this kind of thought in a systematic way. It happened though to find myself standing with a woman who while pulling me to herself to take a selfie, started licking my face out of the blue... I mean, what the hell do you want? Who asked you? Consent exists, and it's due." Damiano

Grow yourself – The only commandment

"To me conformism is the opposite of education [tn: could also mean "politeness"] and is the asphyxia of expression. I fortunately never endured heavy bullying, heavy enough for the the judgement of others to change me. But the mold of the small crumbs of bullying I got and of the kind of aggression that scars is the same. If I'm a kid who dances and likes dolls you have to let me do what I like. I was a kid who wanted to keep his hair long and played with Barbie. As a teen, my friends looked at my hair: " You have to find a girl with short hair to be at your side." My grandparents took away my dolls: "Stop it, they're not for you." Ethan

"When I was six I was already sick of them, the distinctions between masculine and feminine. I've always had strong ideas about how I wanted to be. I refused things that were typically defined as girly, and all around me they mocked me because I went skateboarding, I played soccer, I didn't wear skirts, I was giving myself the chance to be as I wished. I endured it a little, I suffered a little, but I had courage, and now thanks to that courage I know that I could have gotten even much more hurt, otherwise I would have left to others the most important choice: the one about myself." Victoria

Love in progress – Music, girlfriends

"I've been married to music for the last 20 years. I can't wait to celebrate our golden wedding anniversary." Ethan

"Everyone makes their own experiences, sometimes it goes well, sometimes it goes wrong, but it's always not anybody's business." Thomas

"When I first felt feelings and attraction towards a girl it was a bit disorienting because I had never had the courage of going beyond the limitations I had put for myself. For society being heterosexual is the norm and so you often define yourself in that way automatically, depriving yourself of the freedom to live many shades and faces of love. Once I overcame the initial insecurity of having to call into question my certainties I've lived my sexuality in a very natural and free way, as it should be for everyone." Victoria

"I had paparazzi at my door every day and night. So, after four years of relationship, I revealed her name. I still have paparazzi at my door every day and nigh, but at least I don't have to hide anything anymore." Damiano

The worth of the group – Phenomenology of protection

"The true engagement though, the true family is among ourselves, our band. We've believed in it since day zero, even before we called ourselves Måneskin (Moonlight in Danish), even before Ethan drew a giant moon on the flier for the first concert we ever did. We share everything, even the pain for the tragedy of Seid Visin, who committed suicide at 20 because of racism. [tn: I think the journalist asked them their opinion about Seid Visin's death, which was a current events topic in Italy, and then pasted it syntaxically in the middle of Thomas' answer, which was not a great move] A group is what we all should be: stay united and not back down an inch in the face of oppression that is generated by a distorted view of diversity." Thomas

I'm not of the right age – Like Gigliola [tn: Gigliola Cinquetti won Eurovision with her song "Non ho l'età", which means "I'm not of the right age"]

"Before you the only one who won both Sanremo and Eurovision on the same year was Cinquetti (1964). If there's anything I feel I'm not of the right age for? No, honestly no. Maybe having children. Regarding children I'll be honest: I'm not of the right age." Damiano

Having touched the sky – The fears that remain

"We're more than inside the dream, we're in the conquered dream. When you fly high there's the risk of plummeting and hurting yourself, but we'll work hard not to end up like Icarus, who burns his wings with the sun. Everything is in our hands. And this - a bit pretentiously - reassures us rather than scaring us." Damiano

#maneskin #måneskin #vanity fair #italian #translation

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travoltacustom · 3 years

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The Presentation of Hifumi’s Trauma

I’ve been thinking on how Hifumi’s trauma has been presented for years now, and with the release of Bad Ass Temple VS Matenro, I feel like now’s as good a time as any to give my thoughts on this.

Note: This is in no way a defense of KR for the presentation of Hifumi’s trauma, but it is an analysis of such. I’m open to discussion on this and you’re free to disagree with me at any point on this. Most of this was also written BEFORE the release of the album, save for the last section.

CW: Mentions of abuse, trauma and rape + spoilers of the MTR dramatrack

I hear a lot that the presentation of Hifumi’s trauma is a ‘poor attempt at humour’, but I don’t exactly think it’s that simple. It is still a presentation of trauma, but it’s not portrayed as humorous in comparison to the rest of the humour of the series.

NARRATIVE

Hifumi panics when he sees women. He is unable to do anything until women are removed from the scene - but these instances are hardly ever the focus of the scene. It’s mostly used as a scene cutter to progress the story. When Chuo enters, Hifumi’s panic cuts off the situation and the focus shifts straight to the women. When the women find Hifumi, Doppo, Gentaro and Dice, Hifumi’s jacket is taken away to shift focus off of the women and to have Gentaro and Dice speak. Rather, Hifumi’s panic at these times are plot movers and not the focal point of the scene. Sadly, they can be seen as plot devices, but it’s not supposed to be seen as humour.

In addition to this, the ‘hysterical’ screaming (for lack of a better word) in the presence of women is limited to the dramatracks. In the manga and the anime, Hifumi runs away/removes himself from the presence of women. The purpose of Hifumi’s hysteria in the dramatracks is for visualisation purposes as there’s no visual aids - the reactions to women are toned down in the anime and manga. With this, it’s easier to believe that the anime and manga is the ‘intended’ portrayal of his reactions as the dramatrack has to make up for what isn’t seen.

PRESENTATION

The narrative is very aware that Hifumi’s trauma affects him badly. It’s a panic response. But it’s not the same as a panic attack. We know how awful the presentation of such can be, and it’s definitely something triggering for a lot of people. Personally, I would feel horrible to see him have a panic attack every time he saw a woman. KR doesn’t want to make his discomfort the focus of the scene either. Simply put, I think his trauma response is a part of the scene, but has less plot purpose than what is going on around it.

Trauma can be presented in different ways, but it’s more controlled to see only a glimpse of how trauma has affected Hifumi. There are other ways of showing this trauma and how it’s affected Hifumi that HPMI has already covered: Hifumi being unable to take off his suit jacket, behavioural change when wearing the jacket, his extremely warped perception of danger when his life is threatened etc. He’s spent 10 years adapting to the trauma and is in a stage of recovery as he’s going to confront his said abuser. If we were compounding this plot point with an idea of a Hifumi that is always having panic attacks, then we would have a Hifumi that is clearly not ready to deal with what he wants.

COMPARISON

We know the writers can portray trauma as such from Jyushi’s backstory. If we remember the fandom response, there were people who were legitimately triggered to varying degrees by what happened to Jyushi’s grandmother and the severe bullying he suffered. Really, I believe that Hifumi’s trauma hasn’t been the forefront of scenes because narratively it’s not the time for this to happen yet.

There seems to be a ‘trauma-porn’ narrative around the need to have Hifumi’s trauma played out ‘correctly. Trauma porn is media that showcases a group’s pain and trauma in excessive amounts for the sake of entertainment. There’s no need right now to show the extent of how badly Hifumi has been affected, because his trauma isn’t the focal point of the story or his character. His past is about to be shown, but it shouldn’t be what defines Hifumi as a character. And even more importantly so, there’s no ‘right’ version of trauma to portray.

HONOBONO

[ This section is written post Bad Ass Temple VS Matenro’s dramatrack.]

There are no redeeming qualities to Honobono, the source of Hifumi’s trauma. She’s despised by Chuohku and kept around for her ‘usefulness’, and Doppo was unsure of Hifumi going to confront his own abuser. However, in the recent dramatrack, Hifumi’s power is taken away from him in Honobono forcing herself into his space. This is the first time we’ve ever seen Hifumi have an explosion of emotions; ‘a typical image of a panic attack’. It is an audibly uncomfortable scene, just as Jyushi’s backstory was to read. There are different levels to trauma responses that HPMI has shown us with the 1st season’s Hifumi with short moments, but this instance is long and drawn out with guttural screaming.

HPMI was always perfectly capable of showing trauma, but for a listener, to hear this sort of occurrence every time around a woman would be potentially harmful. At this moment, Hifumi was nearly completely paralysed, suffering a breakdown of his identity by switching pronouns and screaming (similar to Gentaro’s breakdown at the insult of his clothes). It is difficult to listen to this. I don’t believe you would’ve wanted to hear this every time Hifumi was reminded of Honobono. We’ve even learned that the abuse might not have been dealt directly to Hifumi but to his family - we see Hifumi’s love for his family here in being so torn by her actions, and how trauma does not have to deal with someone directly either. However, the first instances of Hifumi’s trauma were more ‘digestible’ for a viewer, and they set us up for this moment. It was good that Hifumi’s panic responses were less heavy than the blow we’ve been dealt with this dramatrack.

In meeting Hifumi, Honobono greets her with “Hi-Fu-Mi”, just like how Hifumi says his own name in songs. It is most likely that Honobono said his name like this when they were in highschool; for Hifumi to use it in his songs now can be seen as a reclamation of his identity, as now Honobono can’t use his own name against him. Hifumi has spent years recovering from her, and seeing small hints of how he’s trying to move on from that time is a legitimately good way to understand the recovery from trauma.

WHAT IS IT?

The HPMI fandom seemed to have an ‘obsession’ with what exactly traumatised Hifumi up until this point. Most believed that it would have been sexual abuse/rape, given that he fears the opposite gender, and it wouldn’t have been the first time sexual themes have appeared in HPMI (the trafficked women at the start of BB/MTC’s manga). However, to think that ‘there is only one sort of trauma that can cause Hifumi’s pain’ is a dangerous idea. Almost anything can be traumatising, and almost anything can be a trigger.

There’s no need to theorise ‘what is good enough’ to be a trauma for him. To fear women, it can simply be that a woman has done something bad to him - which we see is Honobono. When we hear women fearing men because a man did something bad to them, we don’t theorise what exactly happened to her. There’s the automatic assumption that gendered fear is the result of sexual abuse, when in reality, it can be any manner of abuse that has caused this.

OPINIONS

So I don’t think KR is portraying Hifumi’s trauma as humorous. It’s definitely awkward, but the narrative has constantly made it clear that he’s in a state of discomfort that stems from trauma and Doppo and Jakurai always do their best to move him out of those situations without drawing too much attention. Nobody in the story laughs at him, save for Asunaro, who’s an ill-mannered child without sensitivity towards both Doppo and Hifumi, and Honobono, the source of his trauma. Those who don’t understand Hifumi in the adult cast however only find confusion in him.

There’s no ‘best’ portrayal of trauma in any media. But it’s clear that HPMI isn’t trying to be malicious or poke fun at any sort of trauma at all. If anything, I think the portrayal of it so far has been relatively ‘easy’ on common audiences that don’t explore such media, helping people to realise how trauma can manifest without forcing others who do have trauma to realise their pained experience in this media. Hifumi has been painted as someone relatable to those with trauma because he’s still a man who’s capable of doing his best while still stumbling along his way to recovery. Traumatised shouldn’t be the descriptor of Hifumi, but he is a character that has been traumatised.

While Honobono and her abuse is an integral part of Hifumi’s backstory, she does not define him as a person. To portray Hifumi as a strong character, despite moments of trauma responses, was a suitable choice in treating him respectably.

#hypnosis mic #hypmic #hifumi izanami #analysis

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spirit-science-blog · 3 years

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The Perks of Being a Wallflower is a story about the infinite layers between a person's ego and a person's soul, and in that, the self-discovery and expression of the soul through the connection we have with each other. Much of this coming of age story is centered around being an outcast in a world of sameness, telling us of uniqueness, individuality, and that each of us has the potential to live our best lives if we can just get out of our own way. While the story is based in 1991, it relates very well with most demographics of the last 40 years, minus all the mix-tapes, as much of the message is universal to our human consciousness today.

The story was both written and directed by Steven Chbosky, for both the novel and the screenplay - and while generally, we’ll be focusing on the movie, for those interested - the book adds many dimensions to the story that we don’t see in the film. With that, here’s your Spoiler Alert, and here we go!

The film opens and closes with the infinity tunnel, the place which - to the main characters - seems to be a place of pure experience, an experience of the infinite. We see Sam and later Charlie experience this by standing up in the back of a truck, holding their arms out in joyous surrender to the expansive and seemingly never-ending tunnel. There is where we find Charlie's legendary line that became the Tagline of the movie “We are infinite”.

What’s especially amazing and curious about this is that it subtly explores the line between danger and conscious expansion. In the back of the truck, there is a notable sense of danger, as if the truck bounced or a strong wind blew through in the other direction, these kids could fall off the truck and bump their noggins! Yet, in the surrender of the will of the soul, it opens for this expansive experience that few are familiar with, which deepens their connection to themselves, feelings of freedom, and each other.

Now, in the book and a core part of the movie, is that the narrative is told through Charlie writing these letters to us, the audience, essentially providing a more intimate look at what’s going on inside Charlie’s mind and heart. Throughout the story, we peel back the layers of his nature and go deeper into resonance with his soul, but what's more so, we can see the various layers of his personality, both ego, and soul, that are steering the ship of his life.

And truly, one remarkable aspect of this story in particular is that every character feels like real people, which makes it easy for the film to connect well with anyone, as opposed to some of those other Hollywood highschools where everyone is 30… or constantly breaking into song.

But perhaps one of the challenges of going back to high school through this movie is that in a lot of ways, this is really accurate, which brings up all kinds of memories. For myself personally, there’s a lot of this story that just feels like… exactly my high school life.

Take this girl for instance… *play the clips* WHO HURT YOU!?!

But yet - if the story gives us any indication, is that each of us, with our multitude of layers, has this incredible bank of life experience, and all of us have been hurt in some ways, though rarely we show it openly. Throughout the film, we slowly bury deeper into the layers of these characters and explore the abuse that was experienced in childhood, and how they were able to overcome it, and grow as people.

So even as we watch, for those with the heart to explore it, even the people who are not so nice, like the girl in Charlies class, the teacher who calls his student nothing, or Brad and his friends - are all people who are suffering in their own ways, but just haven’t yet faced it within themselves. Perhaps one of the most significant lessons here is that… Hurt people hurt people.

So getting to know Charlie, we learn that he is a young, budding writer, making these journals and describing his life experiences… If we go into our ancient past - we find many legendary sages telling us that it is through our words that we create and steer our lives and reality, and what’s more so, that writing our words give them lasting power, which is why things like journaling and even vision boards can be so powerful both in creating new things in life, and developing wisdom and meaningful self reflection.

Charlie actively demonstrates this throughout the story by the words that he uses while he’s journaling. Early on, he writes about how his old friend and people he used to know don’t want to connect with him, and he says “well, i’m me, so who am I kidding?” Putting himself down and reinforcing the belief in himself that he’s not worth very much. Yet, he also writes that he wants to make new friends, because he wants to turn things around… and this very intention puts him on the path to actually make some.

Now, the first friend that charlie makes is really his teacher, Paul Rudd, however - charlies own shame prevents him from acknowledging this at the start, but throughout the story, Mr. Rudd essentially becomes charlies guiding mentor, providing him wisdom in the form of books, and supporting him in becoming an intelligent writer.

We are also introduced to Patrick. Patrick really represents the outspoken voice of those who are misrepresented in the world, and one who will stand up for those who are outcasts from society. When we first meet Patrick, he is drawing a beard on himself, pretending to be the shop class teacher, and the teacher comes in and calls him pattycakes. So Patrick says “Look, my name is patrick, so either call me patrick or call me nothing”. And the teacher calls him nothing! In the book, this plays out a bit differently, but we can gleam a lesson here nonetheless.

Because of this exchange, basically all of the kids in school refer to Patrick as nothing. However, by the end of the story we see the transmutation of this energy, as he puts “Nothing hates you” on the top of his hat - owning and even changing the energy, and demonstrating some wisdom and compassion all the same. Nothing hates you, there is only love, get it? Well, this probably went over most people's heads, which... might be a pun, because it was on the top of his hat.

Speaking to friendships, the final of the main trio in the story is Sam. Now the name Sam itself actually translates from Hebrew, meaning “God has Heard” or “Listen, Name of God”, and she plays a significant role not just in her own story, but helping Charlie to open his heart, and supporting him throughout his own self discovery. There is a lesson here too for all of us in the question of - who are we showing up for in our lives? The beautiful thing about Sam is that she really shows up for nearly everyone.

There is a subtle allusion to this in that the first time we see her, she has bright stadium lights behind, depicting angelic radiance. Yet at the same time, Sam herself represents the loss of innocence, for she used to have a reputation of getting drunk with all the boys and you can imagine where that train ends. We can see this in many areas throughout the movie, such as the red and black that she often wears, which falls in stark contrast to the pink wall and twinkly lights of her bedroom, and deeper still, with her story of being taken advantage of by her dad's boss at the age of 11, which twisted her own ego into becoming the girl with the reputation.

Yet, the quality of her soul allowed her to grow as a person - she is not defined by these aspects of herself anymore, moving beyond her past into a higher reality, and progressively does so even to the end, getting into penn state, sharing that things do get better. The tunnel scene, which we explored earlier, is a scene of soaring, flying, trust, and freedom, all things that help Charlie in embodying the same thing by the end too!

Having made some friends, Charlie is initiated into the group by attending his first party, where he experiences his first plant medicine experience, eating a cannabis brownie, and opening up to his new friends in a quirky way, where they essentially adopt him into the group. Welcome to the island of misfit toys, Sam says, after Patrick gives Charlie a toast.

One of the primary activities of this group is going to and participating in the rocky horror picture show. We spoke before about how the tunnel represents freedom, and this is another special place where freedom of expression reigns supreme and inhibitions go out the window. Honestly - these scenes deserve a shout out, both to Steven Chbosky for weaving this into the narrative in a really meaningful way, and also the actors for having such courage to get on stage in front of cameras and an audience of thousands, and perform the Rocky Horror Picture! Mad respect!

Now, one of the primary a

Now, speaking of freedom and big changes, a little while later, Charlie also experiences LSD for the first and probably last time. In addition to exploring Cannabis, later on Charlie also tries LSD. Cinematically, it’s a funny segway between taking the eucharist at church, and doing a tab - which shows a direct correlation to entering the depths of spirituality and all of the ways we can do this. But nobody ever taught Charlie that the best way to practice with psychedelics is in nature or with meditation, so he doesn’t have the best time. At one point, he ends up shoveling snow in a circle on the driveway for a while... Wait a second, THIS HOUSE HAS 6 GARAGE DOORS. WHAT?! … That seems a little excessive but okay.

Anyway, during this scene Charlie says “I just saw this tree but it was a dragon, then it was a tree again, it just lied to me”, and, I’m certain that this was probably unintentional, but when you learn about Yggdrasil, the norse edition of the Tree of Life system, we find that there is this dragon called Nidhogg. In historical Viking society, Nidhogg was a great and terrible dragon whose actions intended to pull the cosmos into chaos, and who also chewed the bodies of those who were guilty of terrible crimes. This is curious, because it relates to the undercurrent of darkness that runs throughout the story, as both Sam and Charlie, and even Aunt Helen were abused when they were kids. Again - probably not intentional, but Charlie seeing the tree become a dragon could be indicative of uncovering the darkness at the bottom of his own inner tree of life.

See, this part of the story really does begin the inward spiral that leads into himself to uncover the truth of his past, represented by the end of his LSD trip, creating a snow angel - representing his purification and rebirth.

Speaking to this undercurrent of trauma, and how it shows up for us often in life, is this idea that “We accept the love we think we deserve”, a key point made throughout as we see so many characters accepting love that deep down they know is only holding them back from becoming more authentic versions of themselves. Whether it’s Candace and Ponytail Derek, Patrick and his secret lover Brad, Sam and Craig, and Mary Elizabeth and Charlie.

The film really explores the idea that we often do things that we don’t want to do for the wrong reasons. Charlie dates Mary Elizabeth and hates it, he has nothing good to say about it at all, and yet he stays in it - why? Because he doesn’t want to hurt her feelings. Even though it’s not a healthy relationship, Charlie can’t see past his own ego or what he’s creating by staying in the relationship. What's more so, even after the relationship ends, Charlie is still trying to make up with her because he feels bad, he feels guilty - and in this we even gain a subtle reflection for ourselves in how we weave our own traps of suffering…

We can see this expressed during one scene where he has this black dot on his third eye, a symbol of Ash Wednesday from his church, and Mary-elizabeth wipes it off. For much of the film, she seems to represent the spiritual ego, by her tendency to boast about spiritual concepts, but doesn’t really behave much like the buddhist she claims to be.

The story asks us to reflect on our own relationships and our lives in this same way, what are we doing, and why are we doing it? Are our actions in the highest alignment with our souls? However, we must also acknowledge that - as we go deeper, we see that Charlie’s guilt of feeling responsible for his Aunt Helen’s death, also stems into not being able to tell Mary Elizabeth the truth about how he feels. From this, we may discover within ourselves that all of our actions and feelings are interwoven together, far deeper than we know.

To the surprise of many people who first watch it or read the book, towards the end, Charlie goes through what resembles a dark night of the soul, a common thing during the awakening process, where we must face some aspect of our past, we must go through the trauma and the pain, in order to emerge on the other side of it and find healing.

Throughout the film, Charlie’s pain wells up within him in a number of ways, such as the fight in the Cafeteria. Later on, when he is taken to the hospital, he says something very interesting. He asks the doctor how to make it stop, how he can stop seeing everyones pain, that everyone is in pain, all of the time. Yet, the one thing he can’t see is his own pain. It reminded me of a bible verse from Matthew 7 - “First, remove the beam out of your own eye, and then you can see clearly to remove the speck out of your brother’s eye.” Charlie can’t even see his own pain, but it’s so strongly there that it manifests itself as if he’s seeing everyone elses pain. It’s as if his pain itself has anchored him to this frequency of pain and suffering, but unless he faces the darkness within himself, he won’t be able to stop seeing it in others too.

As he faces his past, and comes to terms with it, he begins to let go and find healing. Something we all must do on our journey of reconciling our own pasts. Here we find another moving lesson, as Charlie lets go of his past, he must also let go of his friends, as they graduate and move on into new realities. Yet, not forgetting or losing their friendship, just adding some distance.

One final aspect of the story we must explore, is this very human moment where Sam and Charlie have a serious talk, and Sam asks… why didn’t you ever ask me out? Now - this might not be a fair question, because she was with someone for a long time and hey, maybe Charlie was just being respectful that she had a boyfriend… Yet, Sam reveals something very deep and moving, something we can all learn from. She says that she doesn’t want to just be someones crush, but that she wants someone to love her for who she truly is. It is a powerful and very heartfelt moment, revealing the deepest part of their characters, showing the soul from all of the ego, and for the characters expressing what they really want most, on a heart-centered level and a natural expression of the soul.

As the story comes to a close, Charlie discovers that we may accept the love we think we deserve but it is our duty to show people that they deserve more. We all deserve to fly through the tunnels, see “the light and everything that makes you wonder, with those who love most in this world, and realize that deep down, in all of our hearts... “We are infinite”!

#spirituality #science #ascension #mystery school #spirit science

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1kook · 5 years

Text

milestone

Jeon Jungkook x (F) Reader

summary→ Part of you is touched that Jungkook really has been there for every milestone in your life. The other part wishes he hadn’t shown up looking so ridiculously sexy. tags→ American highschool/college universe, brother’s best friend au, grinding, first time, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (pls use condoms tho), dirty talk, confessions, um graduation sex??? idk lol wc→ 8.2k

did i proofread? hell no lmao. this is my first time writing for bts tho!! enjoy!!

To say Jungkook had changed was an understatement.

You could safely say this because you knew Jungkook, despite the times you wished you didn’t. You knew him, because he’d been attached to your older brother’s hip for as long as you could remember, present at nearly every milestone event of your childhood. He and Taehyung had become inseparable since the moment you’d first moved next door to Jungkook, their days spent playing video games after school, running around the backyard, and begging your parents to let them build a conjoined ‘Boys Only’ tree house.

Yours, on the other hand, were spent inside, too shy to go outside and talk to your brother’s friend, even if he was only two years older than you. You were, in every aspect, the shy baby sister who played inside and hid behind her mom’s leg whenever the boys’ tummies called them back inside for snacks.

It wasn’t that Jungkook was mean or anything. No, he was at least two times better than your own brother. On days your mother had urged you to go out and play, he’d let you play with his scooter around the driveway, because he knew you hated playing football with him and Tae, the both of them too rough. He was a sweet kid, from what you could remember, and you’d never once came to dislike him during those warm, honeyed days of your childhood.

The bulk of what you knew of Jungkook came mostly from your teenage years, when you’d finally grown out of your shyness. Though he’d had an awkward growth spurt that led him to be the tallest freshman in his class for a short while, he was still the polite boy who everyone’s mother loved. His after school visits were not as often, both him and Tae consumed by their love for football. Their practices were grueling, and sometimes, they wouldn’t return home until well into the evening, their clothes soiled and smelly from all the hours they put in on the field.

Jungkook was a junior by the time you started your freshman year, his prepubescent body finally working in his favor. He’d suddenly become more firm and defined, and you remembered the way his mother had scolded him when he’d pierced his right ear without permission. He’d become undeniably cute, but you always had kept that thought to yourself, lest you want the wrath of Taehyung’s overprotectiveness brought down on you.

But he was still as supportive as he’d always been, wishing you good luck when both he and Taehyung had dropped you off for freshman orientation, a sweet smile adorning his face. It was Jungkook who had initially encouraged you to join the dance team, to which Taehyung had then insisted upon. (You’re pretty sure he just wanted you to join so he wouldn’t have to drive you home before the start of his practice everyday.)

You remembered so vividly how he’d driven you and your brother to and from school every day of the first semester, his hands veiny as they’d gripped the wheel of his dad’s car; you’ve never been able to look at a steering wheel the same way again. While your brother had preferred to scroll through his phone, Jungkook had liked conversing with you, head occasionally turning so you could catch glances of his side profile. During winter break, Taehyung finally got a license of his own, and those quiet mornings with Jungkook came to a stop.

You saw him less after the first semester as you became consumed in your own school life, because, though the football season had ended, the dance team performed all throughout the winter basketball season as well. You came home late, often hitching rides from your older friends back home. They’d always been eager to drop you off, always desperate to catch sight of Jungkook or your brother coming out to receive you. The one day Jungkook did let you into the house, your cheeks had been tainted red from the cold. It masked your own adoration as he’d pulled open the door, his hair fluffy and soft, his usually broad body snuggly enveloped by a soft sweater.

By the beginning of Taehyung’s senior year, both he and Jungkook had become transfixed with teaching you how to drive. At night, you’d run a few circles in the grocery’s empty parking lot, their instructions overwhelming as they shouted to be heard over each other. It was ultimately Jungkook who’d taken up the sole duty of instructing you, his voice soft and calm against your ear as he leaned in from the backseat, arm occasionally coming into your line of vision.

His and Taehyung’s senior night had been ridiculously teary, both of them grasping onto each other as the final whistle of their last high school football game rang through the crisp October air. Your parents had been preoccupied with taking pictures of Tae to upload onto Facebook, and you’d almost wandered back to the car in boredom, had Jungkook not swept you into a hug and gushed profusely, the adrenaline from the game and his happiness making him stumble over his words. He’d been smelly and sticky, his shoulder pads pressing into you in a mildly uncomfortable way, but you’d be an idiot to pull out of his embrace.

It was during their graduation that you finally came to terms with your crush on Jungkook, your brother’s best friend in the entire universe.

As they’d filed out of the auditorium, your eyes had been locked on Jungkook’s broad shoulders, nicely fitted by the gown they all wore, a sharp pang striking your chest. He was eighteen then, so bright and excited for college, and you knew you could never tell him how much he meant to you. You couldn’t tell him, not because it’d make things weird, but because Jungkook was so caring and generous that he would spend all his time worrying about little sixteen year-old you.

He was such a genuine person, that you knew bestowing such news on him would only hinder his success as he moved onto the next stage of his life; so worried he’d be about you that he might even reconsider going to dorm out of state. You never wanted anything more than for Jungkook to be happy, and if it meant suppressing the feelings you’d felt for more than ten years, so be it.

They would go away, you were sure, but Jungkook’s troubles for you would not. So you’d brushed them aside in favor of watching him blossom into the professional gentleman you knew he was destined to become.

Which is what leaves you undoubtedly confused by his appearance at your graduation.

“I- thanks?” You say, taking the sopping wet bouquet out of his grasp, holding it as far as possible from your crisp graduation gown. The tassel you’d just turned brushes against your cheek as you level Jungkook with a confused once-over. He’s out of breath, for some reason, the strands of hair he’d brushed backwards slowly curling forwards to brush the tip of his eyebrows.

He draws to his full height, leveling you with an unusual smirk. “Don’t mention it, kid,” he brushes off, playfully punching your arm. You guess he isn’t aware of his own brutish strength, hiding beneath that tight button-down, because you end up flinching after the hit, not that he notices. You push the flowers off onto your mom, who seems pretty preoccupied making sure the pictures she’d taken of you came out okay. Your dad is nowhere to be found, probably back in the cafeteria scarfing down the snacks that had been set out for people wishing to mingle after the ceremony.

You’re thrown for another loop when Taehyung’s arm is thrown around your shoulders, knocking your cap off your head. He very narrowly catches it, twirling it in his palm as he beams in your face. “I can’t believe it,” he cries, “my baby sister, finally being released from prison!” He wipes an imaginary tear off his face, and you would have been more invested in his dramatics had you not been so enthralled by the sight of Jungkook.

Admittedly, it’s been a while since you last saw him. He and Taehyung rarely visited, only on the mandatory holidays, before driving the five hours back to their college to never be seen or heard from until the next holiday. The last time you’d even seen Taehyung was during winter break, because he and Jungkook had decided to travel out of the country for spring break instead of coming home.

The extended absence is probably why you’re so confused as you stare at Jungkook now, his appearance nothing like the young man that had worn this exact same cap and gown two years ago. You’re not sure if his life has genuinely transformed into a mess, or if he’d just been rushed to come to your graduation. Either way, his appearance is getting quite the attention from those around you. He’d forgone an under shirt, despite the translucence of his formal button-down, and when you squint hard enough, there’s definitely a tattoo on his clavicle, and another one nestled beneath the swell of his pecto–you quickly look away.

“When did you guys get here?” You ask, scanning over the sea of gowns in an attempt to distract yourself from Jungkook’s godly appearance. Part of you is touched that Jungkook really has been there for every milestone in your life. The other part wishes he hadn’t shown up looking so ridiculously sexy.

“Tae wanted to get here earlier so we could take pictures, but we had to stop by and get some flowers, and the only ones you liked were in the middle of getting water,” Jungkook supplies, unaware of your attempts to push him to the back of your mind. “And then we got stuck in traffic, and ended up getting dressed in the car,” he sighs, hands shoved into the depths of his wrinkled slacks.

“Must’ve been quite the show,” you offhandedly reply, and have to will your face to remain as stoic as possible when he raises an eyebrow at you, a teasing smirk adorning his features. “Look, we’re gonna go eat at the nice Italian place downtown,” you say instead, turning your gaze back to Taehyung. “You guys are welcome to come, but I don’t know if we reserved enough seats.”

Taehyung snorts, and you’d pull away had he not currently held a vice grip on your shoulders. “Fuck that plan,” he scoffs, and your mom whacks his arm. “So here’s what we’re really going to do,” he says, pulling Jungkook in so the three of you are awkwardly huddled in the midst of the all graduates and their families. At the sudden movement, Jungkook’s arm brushes up your own, your heads nearly knocking into each other. “Dad said I can take you out to celebrate you finally being an adult, and since it’s officially the beginning of summer, there’s a huge party on the south side of town.” He says, and the fact he knows what’s going on in his hometown, despite only being home for all of two hours, lets you know this was premeditated.

“I’m sorry, we’re doing what?” You finally gather the balls to look Jungkook in the eye again, and by the shrug he gives you (still with that stupid grin on his face), you at least know this was a Taehyung original scheme. You’re grateful he hadn’t roped Jungkook in yet, because if he’d proposed this idea, you’d agree in a second.

You forget Jungkook and Taehyung work through a telepathically connected system, and one shared glance between the two has Jungkook immediately taking your brother’s side. “C’mon, that’d be fun wouldn’t it?” His voice is deep and raspy in all the right places, and you purse your lips together as you grapple for some excuse. You can’t say your parents are against it, because, according to Tae, your dad had approved of this plan–sort of.

“Think of it this way,” Jungkook pulls you out of your thoughts, “it’d be better to go to your first real party with your brother!” You groan, and Taehyung beams at Jungkook’s terrible point.

“This is a horrible idea,” you whine, snapping out of your childish antics when one of your friends brushes by you, throwing a soft goodbye over your shoulder. Briefly, Taehyung lets a low whistle leave his lips, to which you shove an elbow into his ribs. “Look, I appreciate the offer, but I really just want to eat some food and go to sleep,” you calmly state.

Taehyung groans so hard and loud, it nearly sounds like a scream. Your huddle breaks at that, and you readjust your gown. You wonder if you’d imagined the way Jungkook’s eyes flickered towards your exposed neck, the off the shoulder dress you’re wearing making it seem as if the graduation gown was the only thing you had on. “You’re so boring, ___!” Taehyung complains. You refrain from rubbing your temples, because the makeup you’d worn tonight had taken quite some time.

The only thing that calms you down is the way Jungkook slowly wraps his fingers around your wrist, pulling your diploma from your hand. “Oh, right,” he says, eyes glinting, “forgot you were a goody-two-shoes.”

You can’t really say no then. Not only was your pride at stake now, but the way Jungkook’s eyes had traced around the dainty necklace resting between your collarbones had been too inviting.

“Have you seen my brother?” You screech into Jungkook’s ear, your voice drowned out by the loud thump of the bass. Jungkook squints, as if that somehow helps him hear better, and motions for you to repeat it. You groan, and try again. You’re not sure if Jungkook shrugs because he hasn’t seen Taehyung, or because he didn’t hear for the second time.

You’re a real idiot for letting some pretty brown eyes rope you into the craziest night of your life. Through the course of the evening, you’ve managed to see your brother–your own brother, the one who’d cried when Simba’s dad died–jump off the balcony of someone’s house and into a trampoline on the yard below, someone snort a line of crack off a guy’s dick, someone else completely wipe out while dancing on the bar, and Jungkook successfully swindle four hundred dollars out of some drunk billiards players. Suffice to say, you were ready to go home and knock out in the comfort of your bed.

It didn’t help that Taehyung had been adamant that you drink as much alcohol as you could, occasionally brushing by to thrust another mysterious liquid into your palms. You shouldn’t be as cautious of the drinks considering your brother made them, but then again, your brother made them.

The fact you’d had to watch Jungkook grind with multiple women on the dance floor for a solid fifteen minutes while Taehyung made you play beer pong with him, was another matter for another day.

You sighed, glancing around to see if you could catch sight of Taehyung’s ridiculously bright head of hair. Probably the biggest mistake you’d made that night was putting Tae in charge of the car keys.

You’re pulled out of your worries when Jungkook taps your arm. You raise your brows at him, and he motions for you to lean closer, which you hesitate to.

Truthfully, he looks absolutely godly sitting on that bar stool, legs deliciously spread out for you to slot yourself in between. Somewhere along the line, he’d began unbuttoning his shirt to relieve some of his body’s heat; he was three buttons down now, and the flat part of his chest, right between where his pecs met, glistened with sweat.

As if sensing your hesitation, he hits you with another one of those sweet smiles he’d been dropping all night, though with the more alcohol he consumes, the more they start to look like those devious little smirks now. You acquiesce, leaning forward so that his lips hover dangerously close to your ear.

What you’re not expecting is the palm that spreads itself on the small of your back, pulling you closer between his legs. Your breath catches in your throat, your arms automatically shooting out to rest on his shoulders. “You okay?” He huffs, hot breath fanning over your ear and neck. He pulls away, brown eyes wide as he inspects your appearance. You nod, distantly aware of the trembling of your hands. Jungkook smiles.

“Don’t be so scared,” he laughs, and all you can do is nod again. His hand shifts, gliding around until it rests on your waist. “Don’t be so uptight,” he teases, fingers gently pressing into your skin in an effort to loosen you up. If anything, it makes you even more tense.

He leans away, ducking down to catch your gaze as you struggle to contain the warmth on your face. When you finally meet his eyes, he seems almost devilish as his eyes trace over your face, briefly flickering somewhere behind you. “Don’t be such a fucking prude,” he cackles, and points over your shoulder.

You turn your body, only to catch sight of girls falling over each other on the dance floor as they shake every body part possible. Truthfully, you wish you had the balls to move like that, be as open as them. In another life, you’re as fun and as wild as them, but in this one you’re still a reserved little girl, a trait you’re certain Jungkook has picked up on by now.

“I don’t know how to dance like that,” you awkwardly admit, looking away from him the second the words leave your mouth. You don’t let this vulnerable moment last long, quickly screwing your lips up to spit out another excuse that will somehow redeem your image. “And, Taehyung gets too overprotective if I dance with guys anyway!”

It’s only a half lie. Though Taehyung is in every sense the protective older brother, he knows you’re smart enough to make your own decisions.

Jungkook knows this as well as you do.

“Bullshit,” he smirks, and sets his cup somewhere behind him. You bite your lip, brain racking for any other lie you can throw at him to protect your ego.

Jungkook doesn’t let you dwell on it for long, abruptly standing up. You don’t move away fast enough, and end up pressed against the hard plains of his body. “C’mon,” he says, gesturing towards the dance floor with a nod of his head. “I’ll teach you.”

You don’t get your protest in on time before Jungkook’s tugging you towards where the majority of the party is concentrated. You stumble between dancing friends and couples, and for a moment you think you’ve spotted Taehyung to save you, but it’s just another person with annoyingly bright red hair. Your options are cut short when you bump into Jungkook’s shoulder, and he turns to face you.

He looks disgustingly handsome here, the obnoxious strobe lights casting colorful shapes across his features. “Follow my lead,” he mouths (or you presume he does), moving to knot your arms around his neck.

His hips move, and for a moment, your feet become ice blocks, struggling to move with him. You’re too entranced by the roll of his hips, the way his narrow waist moves back and forth. His hands find their home on your hips, gently encouraging you to move with the beat.

After you’ve regained your wits, you begin following Jungkook’s lead, letting your hips swing from side to side until they’ve synced with his. You chance a glance up at his face, before snapping it back to his body. It’s a thousand times easier to watch the rolls of his body than meet the heated gaze he’s leveling you with.

A few songs pass, your bodies moving in the same beat, until suddenly, the DJ hits you with the annoying air horns, transitioning into an even raunchier, slow song, if that’s possible. Immediately, everyone around you changes their pace, and you struggle to do the same, body awkwardly knocking into the people around you.

Somehow, Jungkook both saves and endangers you.

The easiest way to get you to sync up with him while also pulling you out of harm’s way is, apparently, whirling you around to press your back against his chest. A gasp catches in your throat at the sudden physical contact, the hair at the nape of your neck sticking to your skin.

“Relax,” he laughs against your ear, hips slowly rocking back and forth, encouraging you to pick up the same pace. You do, your face finally taking on all the emotions you couldn’t when you were facing him. His hands rest on your hips still, though this time they pull you closer with each beat of the music.

His hand slowly curls around your body, resting over your belly button, his pinky dangerously brushing lower to where an unusual ball of heat has begun to form inside of you. You jolt, pushing back onto him. A soft puff of air brushes against your ear at the movement, Jungkook’s hands twitching on your body.

You’re suddenly aware of a particular nudge against the curve of your ass.

“Oh,” you breathe, your voice too loud for the soft RnB tune drifting through the speakers.

“Oh?” Jungkook repeats, voice husky, and you can imagine the smirk that tugs at his lips. He pulls you closer, and you feel it again: the soft brush of his dick, slowly hardening because of you. He nudges your head aside, pressing his mouth to your ear. “You like that?”

You’re paralyzed, hips unconsciously swaying with the music as the intense heat begins curling between your legs. You must’ve nodded, because Jungkook chuckles as he continues the motions, slowly grinding into you the same way you’d watched him do to other girls that same night.

After a particularly nice move, your hand grapples for his hair, tugging him closer as your head lolls backwards to rest against his shoulder. He presses a kiss to your neck, and you nearly ascend into another plane, the sensation so heavenly.

“Look at you,” Jungkook purrs, rocking you back and forth between all the other grinding bodies. “Miss Goody-Two-Shoes does know how to dance,” he teases, pressing kisses along your jawline, a gasp escaping your throat. Your legs wobble, and you would have fallen if Jungkook’s arms hadn’t been wrapped around you.

“K-Kookie,” you whine, quivering with every press of his lips against your hot skin.

He quietly scoffs at the name, shushing you with more kisses. “Fuck,” he groans when you rock back into him again. “Tae always said you were off limits but,” he pauses, his hands briefly sliding over your pelvis, relishing in the moan that slips past your lips. “He didn’t tell me you’d gotten so pretty.”

Your cheeks burn even hotter at the compliment, head hanging in a sudden stroke of embarrassment. Jungkook presses a smile against the side of your neck. “Don’t get shy on me now, angel,” he croons as he stops swaying the two of you back and forth.

His hands glide off your body to enclose your palms with his, raising them up to catch your attention. You’re met with that playboy smirk of his as he leans down to kiss your cheek. He raises an eyebrow, gesturing towards the stairs you’d seen countless couples go up throughout the night.

You’ve barely stumbled off the dancing area when you’re suddenly attacked by a fiery drunkard, who immediately nestles his way between the two of you. “I was looking all over for you guys!” Taehyung slurs, hanging off your side.

“That’s nice, Tae,” Jungkook grunts, trying to peel him away from the two of you in the subtlest way possible. Despite his obvious tipsy state, his hawk-like instincts kick in anyway, eyeing the way Jungkook tries to move towards you.

There’s a heavy pause then, the both of them staring each other down. They’re probably having another one of those telepathic conversations right now, and you’re static between the two of them. Eventually, Taehyung backs down, though his jaw twitches as he spares you one last glance, before sauntering off to enjoy himself once more.

You can more or less guess what it’s about.

Jungkook doesn’t waste any time, tugging you up the stairs and into a dark hallway with doors on both sides. You vaguely recognize the door Taehyung had stumbled through earlier in the night before he’d performed his balcony stunt, but you don't dwell on in too much before Jungkook’s pushing you through another open door.

It’s someone’s bedroom, obviously, and you feel some sort of guilt for all the people that have probably run through this person’s belongings during the course of the night. Apparently, Jungkook’s hidden talent is distracting you in a moment’s notice, his mouth suddenly sealed to yours, not even bothering to flick the lights on. The stranger’s bedroom slips to the back of your mind.

In all the fantasies you’ve had of Jungkook, none of them went quite like this. They were always more romantic, filled with tearful confessions and lingering gazes, the Jungkook in your head so soft and shy, too hesitant to touch you, let alone kiss you.

You’re not sure where the younger you got these ideas from, because the real Jungkook is nothing alike. His mouth is hot when he slots it against yours, harshly biting down on your lip until you’re crying out. He doesn’t feel (or at least show) an ounce of sympathy before he’s shoving his tongue down your throat.

You choke, momentarily flinching away in surprise. You catch sight of the hungry glare of his gaze, before he’s diving in again. You’re more prepared the second time around, fingers hesitantly wrapping around his neck as he licks into your mouth. He’s cornered you against the desk in the room, your ass pressing against the edge, and he uses it to his advantage, lifting you to rest on top.

He glances at your swollen lips, beaming at the sight. “Gonna fuck you so good, angel,” he says, nudging your legs open to squeeze between them. You tremble at his words.

He’s kissing down your neck, tongue laving over the skin only to bite you, when things take a turn. “You clean?” He murmurs, a little preoccupied with his work on your neck.

You pause. “I- Yes?”

Jungkook stills immediately, pressing one final chaste kiss to your skin before leveling you with a confused furrow of his brows. “You sure?” You flounder, totally unsure. Jungkook’s lips twist into a frown. His hands are still wrapped around the sides of your thighs, but you don’t miss the way he subtly shifts away from you. You nod, but you suspect Jungkook doesn’t believe you.

He sighs. “Look, I didn't bring a condom, and if you’re not clean, then I don’t really want to...” he trails off, awkwardly glancing out the window to his left, people crowding the backyard. You’re not entirely sure why, but the mood feels wrong all of a sudden.

“I-” you start, and cut off when he levels you with that intense stare of his. “I’m not sure... what you mean,” you admit, so incredibly nervous as you watch him work his lower lip between his teeth.

“What?” He says in disbelief, and your eyes widen at the disappointment in his voice. “You clean or not?” Your mouth opens and closes for a few minutes, before you ultimately settle on a one-shouldered shrug.

Jungkook’s eyes roll into the back of his head, his jaw twitching. “How do you not know?” He interrogates, and your cheeks flush in shame. “Have you fucked someone that might’ve been,” he waves a hand around, gesturing about something, “y’know?”

You shake your head. “I... I’ve never had sex,” you admit.

The air seems to be sucked out of the room at your confession, Jungkook’s annoyed expression slowly melting away. Stuck in a vacuum, you can hear the hard thumps your heart gives from its position lodged inside your throat.

You hear the party downstairs and outside continue in full swing, and, when you focus your ears enough, can hear the muffled moans coming from the room next door. Your ears burn, and you hastily begin apologizing to Jungkook, ready to brush him away, when he surges forward to connect your mouths for the third time that night.

He bites your lower lip hard, your cry swallowed by his lips as he begins kissing you with a passion you’ve never felt from any other kisses before. When he pulls away with a lewd smack of your lips, you’re panting for breath, chest rising and falling with every movement. His eyes momentarily flicker to the swell of your breasts.

He ducks down, one hand gliding up the center of your body to urge you to lean back, your arms barely catching the edge of the desk in time. “Holy fuck,” he breathes against your chest, pressing one brief kiss to the top of your breast. “You really are a little angel, aren’t you?”

You gasp when a hand tugs your legs open as much as your dress allows, slipping between your spread thighs to run a finger up your throbbing core. Your thighs tremble at the sudden touch, a moan ripping itself out of your throat. “So pretty,” Jungkook praises, slowly sinking to the floor between your legs.

The sight of his black tuft of hair between your legs makes your toes curl.

“What’s a good girl like you wearing these panties for?” Jungkook murmurs, his hands pushing the hem of your dress as far up as it’ll go to expose the little number you’d pulled out of your closet that day. It was the only seamless underwear you could wear with this dress, and had picked it carelessly because you’d been planning on going home right after your graduation anyway. But, y’know.

“I needed it for the dress,” you answer, your voice uncharacteristically dainty as you stare him down.

Jungkook loops his fingers around the sides, eyes meeting yours as he slowly pulls it down your legs, fingers trailing over your calf muscles. Once he’s tugged your feet out of it, he doesn’t hesitate to bring it up to where you can both see it, inspecting the crotch area. You’re mortified to see the way it glistens.

You hadn’t been aware how wet you’d become until then, Jungkook’s head tilting to the side as he stared down the offending article. Your humiliation only increases when he brings it to his nose, and takes one long whiff of it.

His eyes flutter shut, and he moans on the exhale. “You smell delicious,” he sighs, and takes one more glance at your panties before carelessly tossing the pair over his shoulder. Your mouth is agape, unsure of how to feel at such an action. Jungkook doesn’t seem to notice, turning his attention back to your exposed pussy. “I bet you taste even better.”

You don’t get to properly process his statement before he’s burying his mouth between your thighs, sucking your clit between his lips. You cry out in pleasure right away, back arching as he swirls your bud around his tongue, eyes watching your every expression. Your hands wildly search for something to hold onto, before settling on the edge of the desk and his hair.

“J-Jungkook,” you moan, biting your bottom lip as you try to suppress any more embarrassing sounds. He hums, the sound sending vibrations through your clit and up your spine.

While you’re distracted by the ministrations of his tongue, he trails his fingers down your slit, grinning when you finally register the touch with a sharp gasp. He pulls off your bud with a pop, leaning back to stare at your virgin hole as he swirls his fingers around it.

“You touch yourself, angel?” He questions, pressing a soft kiss to your thigh, finger gently probing against your opening. When you don’t answer, he bites the soft inside of your thigh, the way you tremble a sight for his eyes. “Answer me.”

Your eyes feel heavy, lips quivering as you watch him become entranced with your cunt. “Sometimes,” you admit, shame building in your chest at the wicked grin he sends your way.

Jungkook pushes the tip of his finger in, pausing as your body spasms to adjust. “You’ve touched this pretty little pussy?” He asks, accepting the hurried nod you give him as an answer. “What do you think about, angel?”

He pushes his finger in halfway, and you moan, your body clenching around the unusual feeling. While you might’ve had your own fingers stuffed inside of you before, they were nothing like Jungkook’s thick and long digit, testing out how much he could curl it so far. “Y-You,” you confess, raising your fist to your mouth to bite down on it.

“Oh?” Jungkook murmurs, eyebrows raising at the confession. He leans down, pressing a tender kiss to your clit again. If he’s surprised, he doesn’t let it show. “Do you think of me fucking you? Bending you over your bed while our parents are talking in the driveway outside?” He proposes, tongue slipping out to tease at your clit as he slowly pushes his finger the rest of the way in. “Or do you think of sitting on my cock during one of my and Tae’s sleepovers, angel? You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Getting yourself off while everyone else is asleep,” he croons, and you yelp when he shoves the second finger in, not even bothering to go slowly. “Sounds nice, doesn’t it, angel?”

You whimper, mind clouded by all the possibilities he’d stuffed into your head. Until then, they’d all been fantasies, little snippets that would drift into your consciousness every now and then, ones you’d push away in a haste, never letting them rile you up for too long.

It seemed impossible to apply that same mentality now, with Jungkook’s tongue flicking over your clit lazily, mocha irises drifting up to meet yours. You nibble your bottom lip, nails digging into the grainy underside of the desk as you watch that disgustingly arrogant smirk cross his features again.

His fingers twist and bend inside of you. Immediately, your mouth drops open, whole body tingling as his shoves his two fingers deeper inside, until his knuckles are brushing the delicate lips of your pussy. Instinctively, your legs try to clamp around him, to which he halts you by pressing his hand down on your hip.

You cry out after a particularly brutal scissor of his fingers, which Jungkook apparently deems as a sign of you being fully prepared, slipping his fingers out of you. He presses one final kiss to your hip bone and rises to his feet again. His ares are fixed on your exposed pussy for a second, before he glances back at you.

“So you really are a virgin, huh?” He murmurs, rubbing one palm soothingly over your hip. He brings the hand that had been buried inside of you up to his mouth, sucking your juices off his fingers with a pleasured groan. “Fuck, you taste good,” he sighs, cheeks hollowed around his fingers.

You seem to be caught in a trance as you watch him, plush pink lips wrapped around the long expanse of his fingers. They’re glistening, both from your own wetness and his saliva. He pulls his fingers out, the sound lewd in every sense of the word, and brings them up to your mouth instead. “Taste,” he urges, leaning in close, “you’re so sweet, angel,” he purrs, pushing his digits into your mouth until your tongue is forced to lick around them.

It’s an odd feeling to taste yourself, but you can’t really complain, not when Jungkook seems hypnotized by the sight of you. So you make the best out of it, twirling your tongue around his fingers until he’s deemed it enough, and yanks them out of your mouth with a ragged breath.

“Gonna fuck you now,” he tells you, unbuckling his belt. You’ve been vaguely aware of the erection straining inside his pants since you first walked into the room, but it’d honestly slipped to the back of your mind, overshadowed by other matters.

Now, you’ve seen your fair share of dicks, the majority, if not all, in the form of unsolicited snapchats from fuckboys at your school. But Jungkook was older than them, and thus probably had more experience and expertise with how to present his dick in a way that didn’t make girls go ewww.

He doesn’t make it much of a show, doesn’t even bother taking his pants or briefs off. Instead, he tugs his hard cock out of its confines, and a moan catches in your throat despite the simplicity of the big reveal. His dick is thick, and long, longer than your entire hand at least. After giving it a few harsh pulls, he gets impossibly bigger.

He must’ve sensed your fascination with it, because he doesn’t hesitate to bring your significantly smaller palm closer to him. “C’mon,” he teases, closing your fingers with his own, “don’t be scared.”

You play with him a little bit, shaky fingers tracing over the vein that decorates the side of his cock. You run the tip of your index finger down the slit at the head of his cock, and watch as a little white pearl of pre-cum slowly dribbles out onto your fingers, Jungkook groaning softly into your ear. He watches you spread his own self-made lube around his member, and groans, “I’m gonna fucking ruin you, my little angel.”

After you’re done examining your first ever dick, Jungkook wraps one arm around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. Your legs dangle off the side of the desk still, the blood flow barely reaching your toes now. Jungkook grasps the base of his cock in one hand, tracing the rosy head around the tight ring of muscle leading into your soaking cunt.

You cry out, wrapping one hand around him. The positioning feels all wrong; you feel too far away, the desk stiff underneath you. You whine, trying to tug him closer but your entire body still feels weak from the way his tongue had caressed you earlier, and you end up a huffy, pouty mess in his arms.

Jungkook chuckles, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips. He slides his hands beneath your thighs, before fully sheathing himself inside of you. You scream, your back arching in pain that slowly melts away into the beginnings of pleasure. “J-Jungk-”

“Shh,” he says, pressing kisses all along your jawline. In an ultimate display of strength, he hauls you off the desk, cock still fully inside of you, as he walks you over to the window, satisfying the part of you that was desperate to be closer to him. You feel the cold press of the glass against your shoulders before you can protest, and for a moment, the idea of everyone below you watching Jungkook defile you sparks a growing sense of shame in your chest, even though the room is dark and there’s no way they could possibly see you–right?

Jungkook doesn’t let you dwell in these dark thoughts for long, before he’s slowly moving his hips, pulling his cock out and slamming back into you. “All these people,” he huffs, setting the pace for the fucking you’re about to get right then and there. His hips slowly gain speed, transitioning from slow and shallow thrusts to rapid ones that almost hurt, had his dick not been rubbing against your swollen clit with each movement. “They’re all gonna watch you, angel,” he purrs, laving his tongue over the side of your neck, before biting down.

“P-Please,” you whimper, fingers digging into his shoulders as your body becomes used to the feeling of Jungkook inside of you. You’re still embarrassed, but the more Jungkook talks, the more excited you get about someone actually seeing you. It’s a kink you never thought you’d have, getting off on others watching you, yet here you are. “Faster, Kookie,” you beg, his childhood nickname absentmindedly rolling off your lips.

Jungkook jolts at the name, his hips stilling mid thrust. For a moment, you’re scared he came to his senses, realizing how absolutely wrong it was for him to be fucking you, his best friend’s little sister, against a window where everyone could see. But the thought seems to be only in your mind, as Jungkook suddenly resumes his actions.

“Fuck, angel,” he grunts, snapping his hips with even more fervor. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” he laughs, though it’s choked and raspy, unlike the laughter that you’d been hearing all night. His hands, which had both been firmly clamped onto your hips to hold you against the window sill, leave. One slams down on the glass beside your head, while the other moves to grab the back of your thigh, hitching your leg up higher.

The adjustment has him hitting an entirely new angle within you, and you nearly sob when the tip of his dick brushes your cervix. “K-Kookie!” you cry, every nerve in your body tingling.

Jungkook presses a bruising kiss to your lips, swallowing every little noise you make. “You’re still gonna–fuck,” he curses, after a particularly harsh thrust that leaves him slowly grinding his hips against you for a second. “Still gonna call me that– stupid fucking name?” He chokes out, rutting into you with an inhumane pace, teeth clenching as he watches his own cock plunge into the depths of your achingly warm hole.

You moan, fingers digging into his shoulders as he continues his thrusts, never stopping to let you watch your breath. The heat building inside your core is brimming, so close to exploding already that you become desperate for more. “More,” you beg, “pl-please.”

“Say it,” he spits, letting go of the window to grasp your hip again, his grip so tight it’ll probably leave bruises tomorrow morning. “Say it again,” he taunts, finally bottoming out inside of you, holding your hips as he slowly grinds his hips into you.

“I-I don’t underst–”

“Bullshit,” he growls, pressing his forehead against yours. Your chest heaves, desperate for air as he continues slamming into you with a ridiculous strength. “Just do it, ___,” he demands. “Call me that childish name while my cock’s stuffed so deep inside you, you can barely breathe,” he huffs, and the strings of your arousal slowly begin pulling undone, your body so close to it’s breaking point as he continues thrusting. “Does that get you going? Thinking about all the times we could’ve done this before.”

You whine, your body beginning to feel like gelatin, as you shake your head. “Did you think about me fucking you when I was your math tutor? Or how I could’ve bent you over the backseat of my dad’s old car? Or maybe you fantasized about how it’d feel after one of my games?” You wail, and a cocky smirk crosses his features. “Ohhh, so you got off on that one, huh? Did you imagine riding me inside the locker rooms while poor Taehyung waited for us in the parking lot? I always knew you weren’t really a good little girl, ___. Maybe you aren’t an angel after all, hm?” You shake your head no, tears and moans escaping your lips, your body finally giving out on you, your thighs quivering around him as your body spasms, overcome with your orgasm.

You feel your own cum slowly drip down the back of your thighs, body slumping back against the window as Jungkook continues fucking into you like an animal in heat. Dazedly, you trace a hand over the side of his face, murmuring a soft, “Kookie.”

Jungkook moans as your sensitive pussy throbs around him, unintentionally clenching around him. The drag must feel nice, because his thrusts become wild and off tempo, until he’s ramming into you sporadically, desperate for his own release.

It comes a few moments later, with a few soft caresses to his face, and sweet pecks to lips. He busts inside of you, his hips meeting yours one last time, before his mouth goes slack against yours, and you feel his semen paint your walls. You whine at the feeling, body jolting.

Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to haul you off the window sill, carefully dropping you down the perfectly untouched mattress, before falling down after you. All is calm for a few moments, the only sounds registering in your brain the harsh breathing of both you and Jungkook, and the slowing beat of your heart.

After a while, everything else begins filtering in; the loud thumping of the bass downstairs, the hoots and hollers of the partygoers (Taehyung’s are probably mixed in), and the general ruckus that comes from having so many youths gathered in one place.

It hits you then, and you’re quick to tug your dress back down over your ass, despite the cum dripping out of your pussy. Jungkook startles at your sudden movement, moving at the pace of a literal sloth as he tries to calm your nerves and persuade you to lay back down. His dick is limp and shiny with cum now, which not only makes it less sexy, but also is a stark reminder of what you just did with your older brother’s best friend.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” he soothes, tucking his penis back into his pants as if sensing your growing anxiety. He seems nothing like the Jungkook who’d just fucked your brains out, but more like the Jungkook from your childhood. You’re not sure which one is worse.

“Taehyung’s gonna hate us,” you cry, hopelessly trying to reign in the tears that threaten to spill over your waterline. Jungkook pulls you into his chest, your hands immediately flying to ball his shirt beneath your palms.

Jungkook presses a kiss to the crown of your head, and you’re not sure if your heart skips because of that or because you’re crying. “Calm down, angel,” he murmurs, running his fingers down your spine. Before you can get in a protest about how you can’t possibly be calm in this situation, Jungkook beats you to it. “Tae already knew I was gonna make a move on you tonight, there’s nothing to worry about,” he hums, and your body stills.

You pull out of his embrace to fix him with a confused, wide-eyed stare. “What do you mean Taehyung already knew?!” He’d been trying to ease your nerves, but if anything, made them worse.

Jungkook sighs, “for a smart girl, you’re pretty stupid sometimes.”

Your watery eyes narrow dangerously at him, and Jungkook is quick to come to his own defense. “I’m sorry! It’s just,” he worries his bottom lip between his teeth, and even though the room is still shrouded in darkness, you get the feeling he’s blushing. When he finally glances back, his eyes are big and innocent, and you have a hard time connecting this Jungkook to the one from ten minutes ago who folded you like a chair against the window.

“You were right about what you said downstairs, Taehyung has always been overprotective about you being with guys,” he mumbles. “He was mad when I told him I liked you during my senior year, but he knew I would never go after you, because I was becoming an adult or whatever, and then I guess he thought I was gonna get over it when we went to college. But then, like, I never did, so that’s why he was mad when he saw me bringing you upstairs, but you just looked so good tonight when you were dancing, and I’ve been sort of in love with you since we were kids, that I couldn’t help myself, and I just– Are you crying?!” His rambling is cut short.

“No!” You shout, except you definitely are. You sniffle, wiping away the makeup that has long since been ruined as you try to hide your face from Jungkook. Said boy is staring at you like a deer caught in headlights, unsure if he should console you or let you cry it out. He settles on the former, ducking his head down until you’re forced to meet his imploring gaze.

You whine, pushing his head away as you scramble to gather your thoughts. “You’re so annoying,” you huff, getting the last of the tears wiped away as you level him with an irritated glare. “Instead of telling me you liked me, you basically stole my virginity, which you apparently asked my brother for–my brother! Of all people,” you scold, tweaking his nipple between your fingers, before trying to ignore the heated gaze he gives you from such an action.

You let one irritated groan tear its way out of your throat before you’re burying your way back into Jungkook’s arms. “You’re not mad, right?” He murmurs, soft and caring, and you’re totally mad, because it feels like you’ve somehow been conned out of your own virginity.

Except you tell him, “no, I’m not, because I’m kind of in love with you too,” and get to hear the giddy whoop that leaves Jungkook’s lips.

#thekpopnetwork #kpopwonderlandtag #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #jjk smut #jeongguk smut #jjk #bts jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #bts smut #mine #y'all i write those before my finals.... my precalc exam...whew....rip in pieces girl!!!

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ethanosme-blog · 5 years

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Personal Narrative Imago

Change is inevitable as they said. I was always fascinated with an idea of something so little, so inceptive, that could grow into something fine and impressive; like an insect experiencing a long changing process they called metamorphosis, until it reached its final stage the imago, where it is now matured and fully developed, Ethan thought.Ethan was born on the first month of the year, in the second millennium; an absurd yet gracious scenery…yet I’m not interested to tell. Ethan’s childhood was defined by books, cartoons, tumbang preso, jolens, and marvel and dc comics. He had this kind of group called “Tropang Patintero,” where everyday it’s a supreme law to play “patintero” outside.

I remember the paper we pasted outside the wall of abandoned house, where our nicknames are included; I don’t already remember what was the nickname they included but it sounded like “Ethanicks” or maybe “Nips,” it sounded like they stole it from a kids tv show during that year,” Ethan thought. These childhood memories was the foundation of his life, it was a place after the cocoon; a stage of innocence, joy, and knowing. I’m proud to say that it was a childhood with no remorse, it was filled with wonders and nostalgic memories.

Fast forward to many years ago, Ethan’s journey had been changed by this free-intricated part of any youth’s life; the highschool days. It was a self-fulfilling feeling when you walked down through the ground of your new campus.; the smell of fresh air was jumpy and full of excitement; yet I was a civilized person that deep inside wanted to shout, “THIS IS IT!!!.”

Ethan spent only a month in regular class of Grade 7, until he blended into this kind of class, they were called the Special Enhancement Class for the Arts (SECA); where the main focus was to bring out the artistic talents of the students—thus, he was sort of under the field of Media Arts. It is where he discovered his love and interest for photography and film-making.

It was a tough year if you will imagine. We almost spent our whole day in the school, with a lot of paperworks, projects, performance tasks such as jingle, role-plays, reportings, and many more requirements, an easy-go-lucky highschool student can’t do. I’ve been the vice president of our class, and the leader of our group during special class I was hands-on in everything from the design of our room, shooting all night, any other stuff that made us no longer know the word rest.

Ethan will never forget their first culminating activity, where they must present different kinds of informative entertainments under the theme of Philippine Culture; what makes his knees tremble is when he remember how he acts in the front of many people like a child longing for her mother in the song of classic lullaby sa Ugoy ng Duyan. I want to travel back that time and slap myself for doing that; and also my teacher who had me wore “bahag,” and made me act as a fisherman. Of course I would not do that, I respect them as my mentor; but I complained to him that time, and demand that I want to be Bathala or any one in Philippine deities; by the way I love mythologies.

What I remember was his reply to me that time, “There is no small roles, only small actors,” well it calmed me and taught me that not everything is for you, that you need to me become humble in every ways because the world is bigger than us.

Behind all that struggles and pestilent days are lessons who brought steel to his bones and courage to his soul. It made him realize that there are things we need to do first, if we want to succeed—a great reward require great dedication—that there are step by step challenges who are building us to better places, where we are no longer vulnerable to diminishing.

A bigger leap forward to many years later. Not everything was gold, not everything was in favor of us…but everything fall apart, when I stopped for a while in going to school. All his dreams, and plans glimmered like a bulb, fading out in resting darkness.

I might sound exaggerated but I am this kind of person who’s all goals and dreams are well-planned. Thus, a surge of waves crashed it all. I have regrets but I’m proud to say that I did it not for myself, but for other people…like I always do.

In this point of his life, he had known himself more, he had seen his capacity and limits. Ethan tried to embrace it like a bird who have learned how to fly for the first time.. and I guess dark days bring out the real us. He went out with his friends, met new people, drank and drank until he felt the ambience of pleasure and liberation of youthfulness.

Perhaps, sometimes we need to break our own rules. I enjoy the long period of free time that fate has given to me. I watched all the movies, documentaries and tv-series I want…until I a pen and a notebook begged at me…that was when I realized…I need to write it. I write, and write, until all words drowned me…And after that writing becomes his remedy, it put a semi-colon in his wrist.

Those dark days made him realize something, You will never know the essence of life, until your own loneliness locks you in four-sided walls.

It was a life changing path in the life of Ethan… and of course after the storm was the lining of soft-blue sky. A new day for new people.

Ethan continued his study after a year, where he decided to enroll in General Pantaleon Garcia, and changed his strand to HUMSS, because of his interest in Politics and other fields of Social Science.

It was a strange year for him because of new set of people he must meet. It was difficult at first to show them his side, yet everything can learn…and soon it will end again but he can now proudly say, that he already reached the Imago stage…with much stronger will and personas than no other preys can withstand.

I love how this year brought a differ me…It’s a mix of joys, and learnings…It was a changing path for me, the odd culture of Bambo, their resilence and their competitiveness that I’m now adapting…eventhough there are so many not-so-good memories I made with them… I still treasure these wonderful and memorable people. They are awesome in a way that you can hate to love them.

Many chapters have been already folded…but Ethan Reyes is ready for more.

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kahayaya · 4 years

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2/24/2020

Out here in Privette on USF. P sure no one knows where tf that is, but iykyk.

Anyways I’m listening to EDM songs and its currently playing Hard to say Goodbye by Ekali. I seem to always stick to one genre every season. Last semester, it was all about the K-Pop, last summer it was all about J-Pop, specifically Aqours. I don’t really understand why I like listening to these types of music. I guess its one of those things that click with me at a perfect time in my life. I really don’t listen to the lyrics, when I probably should be listening to them. I mainly listen to beats. But anyway, the song I’m listening to makes me feel some type of way. I feel sad but also happy? The song is p much about what the title describes. I’m fine with how it is, but its hard to say goodbye because it ended off on good terms. This reminds me of Eren, cuz it did end off on good terms. And it was Hard to Say Goodbye. I stuck around for a while. But when it started to affect me, that was the line. To say officially goodbye. I’m not sad, but happy because it was the mark of a new path to take. So IDK, maybe I am listening to the song’s lyrics but some other songs don’t click with me, which makes me think I like a song that goes with a electronicy feel accompanied by lyrics. GOD DAM this sun is blazing and its a nice feeling cuz it was cold this morning. SOrry brain trailing into its own thoughts.

I guess I can write down my thoughts on my current family situation.

Lets start off with my parents. I think they are doing fine, but they are not at the same time. They are constantly taking care of my sister, who to simply put, a brain bleed from the drugs she used. My parents are constantly busy and stressed. It's sad because I always think of the conversation with my mom saying this is the life she did not want. She wanted to be at peace and for her children to continue with themselves. But nope, my sister is essentially handicapped and my brother is just barely living. I feel really bad, which puts immense pressure on me to succeed. But sometimes I also feel that my parents want me back at home. They want comfort from me, who is doing exactly what they wanted me to do, which is successful, while my brother and sister are not what they envisioned. My parents will show their unconditional love no matter what, but I’d say I'm the favorite among them. As for me, I feel distant from my parents. Short story for maybe another post, but with my parents, there is always the same argument being brought up, with conflicting on my mom or dad wants to run things. And because of that, sometimes that gets taken out on me. Then after the argument, it is like nothing happened and we continue. The cycle keeps on happening and I get annoyed, which is why I feel like I'm distancing myself, alongside the fact that I am becoming more independent with my life in SF. I feel bad, but at the same time its nice not having to face with that. I feel bad because they made sacrifices that got me here, which is something I will never forget and pay back. I’ll make an attempt to give them a call each week, cuz they are after all my parents. I think in another post, I’ll go into more detail of what my mother and father are like. But they are an interesting duo.

Now moving on to my other two siblings. First off my brother. I defs looked up to him when I was small. I thought he was cool and I was going to be him when I get to that point of stage in life. When I was young, I use to play beer pong with his friends in the garage of our house. I didn’t drink alcohol, but I’d do it with a soda or water. That was really fun. The parties were fun and most of his friends were cool with me playing. That was fun. I think my brother and I had a cool relationship. I didn’t really open up to him though, in a sense I didn’t tell him the details of school or the ones I liked. It was a weird way to describe what happened but I felt like a brother but I didn’t connect like a brother. And I feel about him the same how I feel today. My brother has def changed since going to college and when he worked as a nurse. My brother is now shut in his house working for like GrubHub or something who delivers food. My brother never tells me anything going on his life. All news comes from my parents. I never ask my brother often to hangout, despite the fact that we literally live next to each other by a 25 minute walk. I’m not too sure how I feel, but I know that we are not really connected with each other. My brother is currently trying to apply as a case manager for hospitals, but I heard he got rejected due to no experience in that specific position. So I hope he find a job and gets back on his feet. I also forgot to mention he is in debt, that my mom tells me that debt collectors are coming to him. IDK how he got there, but he was not money managing. Which he also took advantage of my parents when he was helped with in college. He said he needed money for college and his loan, but he’d be spending it on vacations and his ex girlfriend. My brother went through three relationships, all of whom I did not even connect with. My brother was suppose to get married, but it got canceled. I think that event really changed my brother and really turned him down. He never brings up anything about it, but its only up to him if he wants to talk about it. There’s soooo much more to talk about my brother, but all in all as of right now, he is in a tough position and he’s bottled up his feeling at Haight Ashbury.

Now for my sister. My sister is defs one I was more closer with, but at the same time not. ITs the same situation with my brother, but only last year did I start telling her more personel stuff. As a child, my sister was the one who was rebellious and always fought with my parents. At the time I was lost and confused on wtf is going on. She had cuts and scars on her wrist. She had depression. I was somewhat grasping the idea of what that was back then, but its more clear now why she did things. but my sister was crazy, again she had three relationships she went through. Her first ex was a homeless person, idk how they met, but he would live in our house. Honestly, he was a cool dude. He was the one who got me into gaming. Due to some complications with the relationship, they broke up. This person though got back on their feet and is doing alright now, which im happy for him. The next boyfriend rolls and he was a fucking crazy dude. This second boyfriend literally was a druggy and would smoke a lot. I remember my sister and him would play video games a lot and I would occasianlly join them in the MMORPG called Aika. But this ex was a bad person. He would literally steal my parent's meds, which were very addictive meds. We’re talking Vicodin and morphine kinds of meds, which my parents needed for their surgeries. But he would steal them and Im p sure my sister and them took drugs. FYI, my whole family was on pain meds due to accidents they actually had and spine injuries that happened. This person was crazy and not really respectful. I remember I was sleeping in my bed, and I saw my sister and him having sex. My room is connected to a balcony and as well as my sister’s room. That stuff was a bit weird to see, and at the time I was like 11 years old? Things happened where my parents kicked out this dude out of our house and things broke off cuz it was a lot. My sister threating to cut her self cuz of the fighting. It was crazy and chaotic. Years roll on by and Im in high school and my sister recent ex. This dude was quiet. Asian dude and also liked to play video games. This dude would never talk to me, it was weird. This relationship ended quickly due to him cheating on my sister. The dude was also a pedo too, he was dating a highschooler, who was not 18 and this dude is like 25 yrs old. WTF. but yea i think this post turned into a relationship analysis. I learned a lot from those relationships and I took into account when I was going into one. But its a different dimension out there in the world of relationships. And because of the relationships my sister and brother had, it really defined them and somewhat destroyed them. My sister turnt to drugs, especially Esctaty and was a raver herself. Which is why she is in the position where she is in now. Handicapped and bedridden as of right now. I don’t know the outlook on how much she can do now, but shes having it rough. I truly feel sad for her, but at the same time, she created this timeline. But my sister and I i felt like getting a bit closer to her recently, but then distance ourselves again. IDK my family situation is weird, and IDK how to describe it. Maybe if i layout the events, someone can describe my relationship with my familiy. But one thing is for sure, and that we all love each other, when we do call for something, my family will do its best to do it. But the friends I built here in SF felt more connection with me and resonates with me. More than I had with my family. Esp Alex, where I yearned for in a friendship. I’m about to start work in 3 minutes, so I’ll write later on random thoughts or something comes up. IDK. Peace out strangers on the web.

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i-think-im-a-writer-lol-me-blog · 6 years

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Still thinking I can put word’s on paper well.

The energy and beauty from good music cannot be understated. Father John Misty’s im writing a novel really gives me that pretentious hard on. The drops on the dirtiest drum and base, EDM, Techno, dubstep monstrosities my Stroudy cohort’s can dredge up from the depth’s of music streaming services can be easily compared to an ecstasy high. Getting lost in the winding and chaotic avenue’s of psytrance give’s my alpha and beta waves the massage needed for me to understand the depth’s of those who make such works. Electro-swing. Oh, Electro-swing. Deluxe, Cravan Palace, Bart and Baker, and all the other funky French names that create such a stunning synergy of old-timey respectable music and new age disgusting filth. I can enjoy the usual electronic bleeps and bloops of dubstep and DNB, but I have found passion in electro-swing.

Music is that which sooths the soul and eases all movement. A walking track can lift one from depression to the height’s of god’s just as a good poem and book can rip one from a dopamine slumber. For those making it: it is an expression. It is a doorway and a key. It’s as if the most quiet and subsistant part’s of these people’s beings have suddenly exploded with passion and pure brilliance. Every inch of their tortured, eased or radient being expressed with a few chords and notes, and from it oozes, gushes and explodes waves of beauty. The pen is mightier than the sword. We right poetry because we are human. We sing because the mixture of the pen, the sword, the world, history, future and everything else get’s incapsulated everyday in the skinny avenue’s of grey matter, and eventually this all must all be expelled before we die. Music is said expulsion. Music ejaculates.

Musicalicly (Tim Minchin), im at an irritating precipice. As already discussed I drum and piano. I just wish I could PLAY music. Not repeat the same tunes over and over, and not do as I can now which is idly slap together some chord’s and melody’s on the left and right. I want to PLAY. Play music. Play with my music. Play around a theme and a chord and a structure. Play with words and rhythms and themes. I want to hear the tones in my head and translate them into beautiful perfect sound. I want to sculpt my way through the minefield. One of the sweetest gift’s mother nature gave man was his ability to form sheer beauty. Some have art, some have music, some have mathematics. Even if I think that she has given upon me with both hands, I still believe myself to young to be more than a jack of all – master of none. I wish to spend more hour’s idling whittling away music. Sharpening the tonal stick and making myself move and flow with my lizard brain playing on a board of keys. Not me being musical, not me being repetitive, my most base of instincts and my most unintentional of movements intricately forming that of tear’s, scream’s and elation.

I get jealous of many. I will admit this. I will not actively be aware of my jealousy. And even once I have passed the acknowledgement stage, it is rare if ever that I will admit such jealousy. Few of those with breath in their lung’s have received my admitted jealousy, and fewer still will receive my unadmitted jealousy. Even me. Felix has been brought up with a guitar in one hand and a book of poems in the other. Emily was brought up through the lens of a camera. Joe was riddled with autism and any other ism of the brain and on this he boult an impulsive and obsessive complex toward’s the creation, analysation and silent respect of music and cinema. I have academia.

But this academia is not a gift. Nor is it a passion. Anthropology is my love and knowledge is the candle burning with the fire of that love. But not academia. No. Word’s and text’s and scholars and writing are blankets. Cushions. A padded floor for me to land at the end of my fall from grace. Science was once my passion. Im glad it is no longer. With those in search of pure science they lose the rose pettels they should collect before becoming worm food. Pure science is elitist and for every iota of beauty there comes lashings of ugliness and inhumanity. Leave true science to the universe and it’s ever ticking lexicon. And then leave everything else for us. Here I return to academia. Passion for physics brought me a downfall toward’s anthropology. Enlightenment at the hand’s of a Leonard and Jackson showed me what I do love. But this still does not ease the blow. Now engineering brings me stooped on one knee against myself.

All of this is self indulgent anyway. Grasping onto the last straw of sanity. The same straw which will inevitably break the camals back. Quick word to the wise, don’t try and find a needle in a haystack on the back of a camel. That was a bad joke but it’s a work in progress. Perhaps some personality will ooze out of this. I use the term ooze because a word that describes a slower and more disgusting process doesn’t spring to mind immediately.

Shakespear and poetry originally disgusted me none the less. Despite a brief scrape with poetry at a young age when I found my rhyming ability and access to big word’s and little idea meant that I could do fuck all in class. I’d loosely describe autumn leave’s and park’s and pretend that any of the sentiment implied was my own, and not just mimicked from the daytime TV I’d resigned myself to idolising. Year 10 and 11 english class gave me a close encounter as well. In the way it was set out it was more life lessons and personality development. I never gave my teacher the disserved credit for that. She was one of those that does quietly and subtly touch your life and is never thanked for it. Maybe one day ill be able to show her thanks. She was pretty fit too.

The class itself amounted to little substance. Though this is a drastic oversimplification that spout’s from my classmates, I didn’t appreciate what I was being given. This, however, does show why it was character building. I wont go into explaining highschool drama. The likes of high school musical and most other teen movie’s pumped out of Hollywood since Ferris Beuller have already covered that base. Some did it rather adequately too.

No, I shan’t indulge in complaining about loose fictive kinship system’s and discrimination via a bad case of small town mindset. Instead I will discuss the English class that I never appreciated. If I’d have not been so ignorant to refuse myself the lust to come to grip’s with it that I have now I think it would’ve pointed me in the direction of anthropology so much earlier. The class consisted of my teacher struggling to get a word in around empty headed teens. An A.Perry would shout and overact and show all the irritating symptoms of ADHD. There was one in every class and it was briefly me. Then there was a J. something or other. He was a prick and I could write whole essay’s looking into the depth’s of his vulgarity and the capacity anyone could have to fully loathe his character. He would make the sarcastic comment’s that come naturally to those who, admittedly, matured early than others. Or atleast believed he did. I was one of those, too, for some time. Probably still am.

There was obviously the smart ones who sat down and shut up. Perhaps some of them even enjoyed the subject to such an extent I believe I would now. There was numerous other name’s I could rattle out to distinguish the riff-raff I sat amongst, but ill save that for darker and more drunken times of verbal masturbation.

Though the teacher sometimes struggled to pierce the fog of ignorance that amassed in the classroom, when she did she did it well and with beauty and meaning beyond her years. I recall numerous times she tried perilously to define, outline and truly express the beauty that she saw in such works as Of Mice and Men and Blood Brothers. Recalling now I could physically sense the lusting feminist holding back a dyke of an unencapsulated love for literature as an art form. She was creaking with how much the distinction was just that. Distinct. A pin prick could burst this bubble and she could rattle off into the wee hour’s discussing every insightful phrase, word and comma that made the ink and paper into gleaming gold of righteous truth.

In time’s like this I weep that beauty is the greatest praise I can give such things. Beauty is a beautiful word with beautiful heritage and history, but even beauty isn’t beautiful enough to define true beauty. Perfection is imperfect, it is the little imperfections that make those perfect, and I guess in some sense that is what makes the English language such an intricate and bastardy language to master, let alone wield. In such a fashion I urge for more words. More to describe the infinite depths of character I’ve noticed in people. My teacher’s passion for her subject. Her longing for it’s understanding and appreciation. She martyred herself in the name of a craft that has forever been martyred for. I can think of sparse few so disserving.

Lo, English has not mastered the expression of beauty in my mind. This is evident in the fact that I cannot grasp at enough letter’s on a page that allow me to make those reading truly believe, truly FEEL how the awe inspired by people such as her. This roaring ember of loving passion Is held in many who I’ve found inspiring. Im sure it’s in even more than that. Any who love their craft disserve not what they get. Yet another on the list of catch-22’s. “Whistle on your way to work”, as a Leonard once said. Passion for a craft brings the beauty of music straight into reflex and refuses to stop there. Those who are passionate for their craft disserve not what they get because they want for no more than what they have. On my death bed if I can say that I lived the large year’s of my life deep on the trail of happiness I would die alone with small thought’s and pure and certain grief. But if I take my final breath and think to those times that I’ve been exactly where I’ve needed to be, wanted to be, and forever longed to be; death would simply be the full stop at the end of the verse I contributed to the infinite sonnet of life.

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wikipress01 · 6 years

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Sex in house? An awkward talk we will need to have

Since the 1960s, astronauts and NASA outreach folks have not hesitated to clarify how one goes to the toilet in house, even to kindergartners, nor to define the numerous ways in which an astronaut might die on an area mission. But when contemplating one of the crucial pure human capabilities—sexual exercise, what will occur as women and men enterprise on longer and longer house missions collectively—properly that was not a matter for press conferences. The public had to await the film and tv trade to weigh in on the matter, even via the 1980s and 90s.

But because the prospect of Mars colonization grows on the general public radar display screen, intercourse talk shouldn’t be as a lot of a taboo subject because it was in the early days. It’s talked about in documentaries about house, it is proven in science fiction films and TV packages set in house, and the aspiring company house tourism trade is properly conscious that it will be a problem quickly. And when it comes to authorities house companies, properly, they’re beginning to talk about it. But it is nonetheless awkward.

The 400 kilometer-high membership?

Men and girls have been flying collectively in house collectively since 1982, when cosmonaut Svetlana Savitskaya went into orbit, together with male colleagues. Since that point, and particularly because the International Space Station (ISS) started operations in the early 2000s, the existence of 400 kilometer excessive membership has been the topic of nice hypothesis. But house companies, together with NASA, have broached the topic with the awkwardness of a reluctant father trying to have “the talk” together with his daughter earlier than her first highschool dance.

“There was a time when the closest consideration of ‘sex’ in the space industry was the engineering challenge of developing different gadgets for men and women astronauts to permit using the toilet effectively,” stated social psychologist Sheryl Bishop Ph.D., a Professor on the University of Texas Medical Branch in Galveston, Texas. Over the previous couple of a long time, Bishop has researched human efficiency in crew conditions—together with Antarctic bases, mountaineering, desert survival, and different environments which might be analogous to long-duration house flight.

Perhaps, this explains why the toilet query was one of many high issues requested of astronauts by folks of all ages over time. But Bishop has seen enchancment on the intercourse concern over time. “Today, we have the first space gynecologist who I’m proud to claim as one of those I’ve mentored over the years,” she stated.

Nancy and Mark in house

But NASA’s willingness to broach the topic didn’t come abruptly. The STS-147 house shuttle mission in 1992 included Nancy Jan Davis and Mark C. Lee—a newlywed couple. It was a “Space Lab” mission, so in the cargo bay the automobile carried a specially-designed laboratory filled with science experiments. These included investigations of human physiology and the way weightlessness and house radiation affected the biology of rooster embryos, frog eggs, plant sees, and fruit flies. Consequently, there was so much for the press to ask about, but the media had been most in whether or not any human reproductive experiments is perhaps in progress. After all, by this time the picture of James Bond floating weightless wrapped in a sheet with Dr. Holly Goodhead on the finish of the 1979 movie Moonraker was properly ingrained in the minds of many individuals, so it was a pure query.

But to nagging reporters, NASA stated, “It’s none of your business.”

Since 1992, issues have developed, however this raises the query of whether or not intercourse in a weightless setting can be worthwhile.

Dealing with Newton’s third Law

There has been hypothesis as to whether or not the truth that each motion produces an equal and reverse response would make intercourse bodily extraordinarily difficult in weightlessness—even to the purpose that one author this 12 months, discussing house intercourse in the net journal Fusion Net, instructed the next:

But, as you’ll see, getting it on in house remains to be very a lot a case of ‘close but no cigar.’ And no house intercourse means no house infants, which will be a bummer for our plans to stay on Mars–or anyplace else in outer house.

It ought to be identified that, whereas we’ll need analysis to ensure that a being pregnant on a Mars colony may be taken to time period yielding a wholesome toddler, Mars colonists will not be weightless. The gravitational pull on the Martian floor is about 38 % that on the Earth’s floor. Newton’s third Law will not be an issue. You’ll merely be 38 % your Earth weight and with the identical quantity of power, and so amazingly agile. Sex on the Martian floor might really be improbable.

Proposed treatments

Newton’s third Law is often cited as a possible hurdle for house intercourse, at the very least in a spacecraft that lacks synthetic gravity: something subjected to a push will transfer in the path of the push and proceed transferring. As famous earlier, folks did not hear about this being a possible drawback in the early days of house exploration, when NASA was in its awkward, speaking to adolescents stage. As for science fiction speculating in regards to the concern, most sci-fi house setting have a tendency to assume using synthetic gravity. Thus, Captain Kirk of the unique Star Trek collection might have all the ladies he needed, even whereas on board the Enterprise, with no explanations labored into the script. As for James Bond in an area shuttle, floating in a sheet in 1979, audiences could not have cared about Newton being ignored, however as we speak, with the prospect of Mars colonization on the horizon, speaking about house intercourse shouldn’t be as taboo because it as soon as was.

Recently, when one reporter requested about sexual contact throughout a present house mission, NASA’s public relations workplace gave a response fairly developed from the 1992 “none of your business” comment. This time, the reply was: “While we expect our employees to behave in a professional manner at all times, their personal lives are their own until it begins to directly affect their job performance.”

That’s from a authorities company that has to be very cautious to be diplomatic, however consultants in house and physics from each science and industrial communities are nonetheless extra candid.

Neil deGrasse Tyson—an astrophysicist, science TV star, and avid admirer of Isaac Newton—has gone so far as to provide potential options options and one that will make Newton smile:

“You need things like straps” Tyson as soon as remarked. “Bring a lot of leather belts. Keep things strapped down and you’ll be just fine,” Then, he added, “There are probably some people who are fully equipped with this anyway.”

Some extra industrial-minded options have been dreamed up as properly. The most well-known was proposed by the late novelist and essayist, Vonna Bonta, who in the early 2000s designed the 2-suit. Essentially, every accomplice would put on a garment that may very well be unzipped, then zipped along with the counterpart garment of the opposite accomplice. Others have instructed specially-designed constructions inside house habitats, corresponding to a conch shell-shaped tunnel, in which a pair might get progressively pushed nearer collectively (added elastic partitions to the design would possibly enhance the plausibility.

Fractional gravity

As people spend longer intervals of time in house, and as bases and colonies are constructed on the moon, Mars, and elsewhere, the problem will not be weightlessness a lot as assorted gravity environments. On the moon, one weighs about 16 % of his or her Earth weight. On Mars, it is 38 %. There can also be rotating spacecraft and rotating house accommodations sooner or later. By spinning, corresponding to craft might create synthetic gravity. The quicker a craft spins, the upper the gravity, but when the radius of rotation is pretty brief, quicker spinning creates side-effects, corresponding to vertigo and problem transferring physique elements. To cut back such results, an area resort or house vessel is perhaps rotated at a pace simply excessive sufficient to create partial gravity—corresponding to Mars gravity, or lunar gravity—however not Earth gravity. People trying sexual relations in such fractional G environments mustn’t have any drawback when it comes to Newton’s third Law. But they may very well be extra agile as they’re on Earth, so—excuse the pun—maybe they’d get the very best of each worlds.

A model of this text initially appeared on the GLP on September 1, 2016.

David Warmflash is an astrobiologist, doctor and science author. BIO. Follow him on Twitter @CosmicEvolution.

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from http://www.wikipress.co.uk/science/sex-in-space-an-awkward-talk-we-will-need-to-have/

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letsshaqirhussyin-blog · 7 years

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Shaqir Hussyin

Effective Home Tuition Service Academy

I do not know about you, however anything I get entangled in I go all the best way. For instance, in highschool I tried out for the observe crew and on a regular basis at apply I was getting ready to finish in first place.

After I took my first step on the street to wealth, my intention was to complete first. Wealth constructing is similar to track and area as a result of it takes preparation and observe. One has to exercise their mind and psychological muscle mass if they are to finish first and win the Gold as a wealth builder.

This reminds me of the time I was delivering a speech to and audience, throughout the query and reply interval a woman asked, "Are you rich?" I was not surprised by her query because it comes up usually throughout query and reply classes.

I responded by saying, "Yes I am rich." The audience said, "Wow!" The fact of the matter is I'm rich, nevertheless my street to wealth was anything however smooth.

Initially, I grew up in abject poverty, one in all nine youngsters born to two very laborious working parents employed by a tobacco manufacturing unit. As written in my e book, Residing on Larger Floor .I stated we have been so poor we spelled it roop, which is poor spelled backwards.

I thank God for that experience as a result of it taught me learn how to overcome poverty by altering my ideas and making good sound selections about money. Rising up in poverty is hard and I do not advocate anyone try it to see what it is like, belief me it was a memorable episode in my life.

Constructing wealth has every thing to do with the way you think and the alternatives you make. What do I mean by this?

Like all issues in life when confronted with a reality we have to deal with it. In other phrases, how we handle poverty is more vital than the fact.

As a child I noticed two hard working dad and mom work at the similar firm for 28 and 27 years respectively. My mother and father didn't complain despite the very fact their employers have been racist and prejudice in direction of them.

My mother and father didn't give a damn about racism or prejudice as a result of that they had nine kids to raise and they did it. Even though we did not have a lot of money we had one thing extra essential than cash, we have been taught how you can make something out of nothing and to be able to accomplish this you must think otherwise, make good selections and take decisive action.

One thing out of nothing is known as willpower to succeed irregardless of the obstacles life throws at you. In other phrases, no one ever mentioned life was going to be easy, you simply will need to have a plan to take care of the pitfalls.

Overcoming quicksand in life might be decided by the solution you come up with to resolve your monetary shortfalls. Living proof, I used to be the primary little one in a family of nine youngsters to earn a high school diploma. Neither my mother and father, nor their dad and mom earlier than them had an opportunity to finish faculty as a result of they were trying to survive a life of poverty.

I decided to attend faculty after incomes my highschool diploma, however I only had $300.00 I acquired from relations throughout my graduation ceremony. The defining moment in my life came once I was hired to work at the recreation division in my hometown in rural North Carolina.

Reflecting on the summer of 1976, I made $600.00 so as to add to the $300.00 I obtained at commencement. My dad and mom didn't have any money to give me for faculty, so I made a decision to apply for instructional grants and was in a position to safe funding all 4 years.

To maintain myself by school, a buddy of the family hired me to develop into an apprentice in his electrical business, it was electrifying to say the least. I did what I had to do to earn money so I might eat, purchase books, and buy a automobile to get to work.

As you may see the obstacles I faced throughout school was known as "lack." I overcame lack by believing in one thing larger than myself,. I believed I might overcome poverty through education and dealing and these choices made the entire distinction in my life.

In 1977, the summer previous to my sophomore 12 months I went again to my hometown and was employed to work in a manufacturing unit, it lasted all of three weeks. A week later I received a call from United Parcel Service (UPS), however I did not have a automotive to get to work as a result of it was 50 miles away.

One in every of my neighbors was a widow and owned a car but couldn't drive because of her medical situation. She allowed me to make use of her car until I might afford to buy my own. I worked at UPS for 3 1/2 years loading, unloading, and sorting parcels and was capable of sustain myself by school.

That is not all, because of my good grades in college I used to be given a chance to attend a United States Air Drive (USAF) fundamental coaching camp. Fundamental coaching lasted six weeks and after completing the program, I joined the Air Power Junior Reserve Officers Training Corps (AFROTC) two year program, it paid $one hundred.00 monthly.

I graduated with educational honors and was a distinguished graduate of AFROTC. Upon graduation I was commissioned a second lieutenant within the USAF.

On my highway to wealth I served over 20 years within the USAF, retiring within the rank of lieutenant colonel. Over the course of my navy career I lead individuals and managed billion dollar programs for the United States of America.

Over a 20 yr time frame, I invested in real estate, stock, and purchased varied insurance coverage insurance policies. I retired from the USAF over 5 years ago and as we speak I am financially impartial and unemployable.

In 2002, I founded Laurel Wreath Communications Inc, a professional talking, training, and consulting firm. In 2004 I based Laurel Wreath Publishing and founded the Paul Lawrence Vann Basis a 501(c)(3) not for profit academic group to show monetary literacy and authorship..

My ardour for real estate investing resulted in me founding Pinnacle Real Estate Investments, LLC shaqir hussyin scam and the Wealth Constructing Academy. As you can see, my street to wealth was anything but easy.

One might say I was not born with a silver spoon in my mouth, nonetheless right this moment I am residing a top quality of life with my wife and kids and wouldn't have it some other method.

I owe my wealth to my mother and father who taught me sturdy dedication and to make good selections for my life. i also thank all the people who supported me along the way in which and my wife who loves and helps me.

Even though your highway to wealth will take different turns than mine, I don't need you to ever surrender on believing that you simply should be wealthy. If I used to be able to overcome abject poverty and turn into wealthy, you can do the same factor. Prosperity and wealth is yours as long as you make clever choices alongside the way in which.

Who doesn't wish to be rich? The pursuit of wealth is a ardour that drives many individuals. This is why many people in the company world burn themselves out as they run the rat race and climb the corporate ladder. For this reason people with the most mediocre of skills would endure embarrassment simply to make it massive in present business. That is why folks gamble at casinos or purchase lottery tickets. These are the traditional paths that folks take with a view to strike at wealth.

There isn't any shortcut to being rich - or so the sages say. If you want to be wealthy, it's important to work hard. But what if we show the sages fallacious and say that there's a shortcut to attaining riches? There is a confirmed manner of incomes money in such a manner that you get to do the work only once. After you've done the work, all you should do is to sit back and watch your earnings grow exponentially.

If you want to learn the way this shortcut works, then it's a must to enroll in a wealth schooling program.

Why Enroll in a Wealth Creation Schooling Program?

Standard knowledge teaches us that right after we graduate from school, we've to try to get a great job that pays rather well. As soon as we scored this job, we have now to work hard to maintain this job and to get promoted to the next level until we reach the top stage on the company ladder. After we retire from the careers we have now built for ourselves, we can benefit from the fruits of our labor.

But why wait until we're 65 years old to take pleasure in life when we can do it much, a lot earlier? Life is a journey that have to be executed slowly and leisurely, or else we'll miss out on the attractive moments we could have savored alongside the best way. Do now we have to attend until we are 65 years old to have the ability to journey the world? Do we now have to attend till retirement to have the ability to bask in the warmth of our families, to read the books that we want to learn when we wish to learn them, to dwell our lives the way we had at all times needed however couldn't as a result of we are so busy with our jobs?

Life doesn't have to be the rat race. If you enroll in a wealth creation training program, you'll find out the ways you'll be able to stop running the rat race and stroll alongside the path of life with out having to fret about cash.

Be taught to Create Passive Income utilizing a Wealth Education Program

There are a lot of things you'll study once you get in a wealth training program, however the important thing concept is that you would be able to be wealthy now and stay the life you suppose you might be presupposed to reside by growing passive revenue. Passive earnings is the fruit of work you'll only do as soon as after which get pleasure from for the rest of your life.

The reply to the question is Yes! it's doable to create Wealth On-line at home. With the precise steering and the proper instruments you could be well in your strategy to building a successful on-line wealth business.

There has by no means been a greater time to start out your own business working from the consolation of your private home.

With all of the economic uncertainties across the globe, now is the time to show in direction of creating your individual success.

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The reality of the matter is, there isn't any simple solution to create wealth online at house. There may be nothing in life that we achieve, with out the suitable quantity of dedication arduous work. Identical goes for constructing a web-based enterprise. It should take dedication and a concerted effort to attain your aim to attain wealth on-line at dwelling. The key is finding the precise wealth online system or program that can train you the abilities and techniques you want, to be successful.

Building an internet business shouldn't be much totally different from constructing an offline enterprise. You continue to need the following:

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