#her mind is playing tricks on her dawg... | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

soulthefunnyman · 3 years

Text

Shelda Does Yoga

A request for @thegalleonsnest, who wanted some Shelda content with a side of Chandlo and Lizbert.

Word Count: 1716

______________________________________________________________

Shellsy was… Conflicted.

Earlier today, Chandlo had proposed the idea of bringing in Lizbert to one of her yoga sessions. Of course, as usual, he missed her hints that it might not have been a great idea to bring someone who she had recently been less than pleasant to because she had never listened to her, but she couldn’t exactly stop him from doing so without raising a few questions that she wasn’t exactly thrilled to answer.

Sometimes this act put her in difficult spots.

And now here she was, standing outside her home, waiting for Lizbert to show up. If she hadn’t put herself in this situation herself, she’d probably be asleep right now, but no. She just had to let Chandlo do things because of his good nature.

Not seeing any point in standing around like a fool, she sat down in front of the steps leading up to her home, making sure to keep her back straight and crossing her legs to give the illusion that she was meditating.

In reality, her grumping feet were sore from standing around for half an hour straight, and her old age didn’t help with that.

“Yo, Sheldawg!” Of course, she couldn’t even sit down for long before something required the attention of Shelda, the great prophet of Mother Naturae. She let out a soft sigh, before slipping back into her character.

“Ah, Chandlo, I see you have returned! Many thanks for bringing our… guest.” She said, barely able to keep her smile up as she greeted the pair approaching her.

Lizbert, in one word, looked apprehensive. Chandlo, to his credit, seemed aware that she was, and least kept close with an arm around her. The nurse, Eggabell, waited in the distance, a tad too far for her to see any details.

Her vision wasn’t as good in her old age, unfortunately.

“Yeah, bro, Eggabro managed to convince her that it’d be good for her, help with her flexibility and all.” He said, pointing behind him to said grumpus, who might have waved in response, or her eyes were tricking her, either way, it didn’t matter too much.

“Ah, that’s… Good. Really good, yes.” She said, standing up slowly from where she was sitting. “I see you are reluctant to join us in our routine, Huntress. Worry not, for the Great Shelda will guide you through the motions!” She raised her arms to the air, playing it up a bit to hopefully sell her act just a bit more.

Unfortunately, it seemed to have the opposite effect, a scoff letting itself out from Lizbert in response.

“I see you’re still the same, Shelda.” She said, crossing her arms. “Look, I’m probably not the best grump for this, I’ve got a village to feed, and I’ve got to keep an eye on Eggabell, so…” She made to step away, but she raised a paw in response, halting her movement.

“Worry not, Huntress, the Healer will be fine without you for one measly hour, and I’m sure the toxins you poison us with will not be missed for that time.” She honestly did not care if she stayed or not, but with Chandlo around she couldn’t exactly break character very easily.

She could tell when someone wasn’t going to budge on a matter, and Lizbert was precisely that grump.

“Yeah, Liz! It’ll be good for you, help clean your mind, make you feel more limber!” Chandlo said, already sitting down in front of her. “Trust me, dawg, it’ll be worth it.”

Lizbert muttered something dark under her breath, before sighing and sitting down in front of her, expression telling her what she thought of what was about to happen.

She held back the urge to break character, instead of sitting down again.

“Now, follow the Great Shelda’s example, and you will feel enlightenment.” She said, raising an arm above her and stretching to the side.

______________________________________________________________

Half an hour later, they were in the middle of basic poses when she noticed something. Lizbert was struggling, and it was rather distracting.

Without letting either of them know, she eased herself back into a standing position, quietly making her way beside the struggling explorer. Without a word, she held both paws at her sides, preventing her from falling to either side.

Lizbert yelped in surprise at that, turning to glare at her, only for her to shush her lightly.

“Patience, Huntress, throwing yourself blindly into this will only hurt you.” She said, taking hold of her arms. “Now, lift your leg and wrap it around your other leg slowly.” After a few seconds of waiting, she followed her instructions with only a hint of hesitation.

Her balance needed work, judging from her shaking despite Shelda holding onto her, but she wasn’t a quitter.

“Very good, now, I’m going to let go of your arms and hold onto your sides, wrap your arms around each other, and let me know once you’re ready.” Lizbert took another deep breath but did as she was told, carefully wrapping her arms as instructed.

After a few seconds of deep breaths, she nodded. “Alright, you can let go.”

She carefully let go of her, backing away but keeping close in case she fell suddenly. Lizbert wobbled and trembled from having to balance on one foot while in a difficult pose, but she kept upright for the moment.

“Excellent work, Huntress.” She smiled, patting her on the shoulder lightly. “With a little work you can-”

It turned out tapping a person able to keep their balance was a bad idea. Before she could even try and stop her descent. Lizbert crumpled to the ground, thankfully able to untangle her limbs before she did so.

“Oof!” She let out as she slammed into the ground, a small could of dust kicking up as she laid there. She rolled around, shooting her a deadpan glare as she got up from the ground.

“Woah, you okay, Liz?” Chandlo said, checking her for any scratches. “That looked like it hurt.”

“It’s nothing, I’m fine.” She said, dusting herself off. “Just a little tumble.” She turned back towards her, crossing her arms. “Real smart of you to pat a grump who’s barely keeping their balance, Shelda.”

She stammered for a second, before collecting herself with a laugh. “Ah, well, that is to say, sorry. The Great Shelda is not infallible, for mistakes allow for the spirit to grow under the guidance of Mother Naturae.”

She shook her head but otherwise said nothing. “Alright, I get it.” Saying nothing else, she carefully returned to the pose before, ensuring that Shelda wasn’t about to tap her again.

“Oh, you’re still willing to go on?” She asked, almost slipping into her natural voice. “The Great Shelda would understand if you’d-”

“The yoga’s helpful.” She cut her off, still shaking lightly. “Might come in useful later.”

She blinked at that, glancing at Chandlo in surprise. He grinned in excitement, pumping a fist in the air.

“Heck yeah, you go, dawg!” He encouraged, before turning to the pose as instructed.

She stood there, still surprised she was willing to continue, leaving the pair standing still in their poses. As Liz cleared her throat, though, she snapped out of her confusion.

“Ah, right, right, um, you can get out of the pose now.” She said, returning to her spot in front of them. “Now, let us move on.”

______________________________________________________________

As things wrapped to a close and they finished their cooldown stretches, the tense air from before had disappeared, leaving a calmer atmosphere in its wake. Yoga had helped in more ways than one.

“Ah, that concludes our routines for today.” She announced, popping her back a bit. “The Great Shelda hopes to see you again, Huntress. Mayhaps you could include the Healer as well, One who is me would love to see another face.” She smiled, feeling more confident than before.

Lizbert smiled a bit but didn’t seem all that enthused with the idea. “Maybe, depends on if she wants to.” An obvious lie, considering she encouraged her to do it in the first place, but she wasn’t about to push her luck.

She had managed to earn a bit of respect, and the small victories counted the most.

“Well, I’d say it was a good time you came, Liz.” Chandlo said, flexing like he usually did. “Hope you can convince her to join, cuz it would do her a lot of good too.” There was a look in his eyes as he said that, but as quickly as it showed, it was gone.

“Indeed!” She agreed, clasping her paws together. “Now, the Great Shelda requires rest, todays events have tired me out, so… Go forth, and take todays lessons to heart.” She concluded, turning around towards her hut.

“Shelda.” Lizbert said, stopping her from moving. She turned around, waiting on her answer with an air of impatience. “Well… Thanks for today. It’s really helped me with some… Issues that’s been going on.” She said, rubbing her arm slightly. “And thank you Chandlo for inviting me.” She nodded to him, who smiled right back.

“Of course, dawg! Everyone should pick this up, it’s real soothing for the soul, you feel me?” He said. “Sheldawg’s the best for this kind of stuff.”

If she wasn’t so focused on keeping in character at that moment, she might have been caught off guard. Even then, it still took her a few seconds to process that statement, before coughing to clear her throat.

“Well, naturally, as Mother Naturae guides my path, as she will all of you.” She smiled, glancing between the pair. “Now, if there is nothing else to say, I require rest.”

“I getcha, Sheldawg.” Chandlo gestured for Lizbert to follow him, leaving her on her own.

She stared in silence as the retreating pair turned around the corner, leaving her with the events in her mind.

She wasn’t entirely sure if what she had said had gotten through to Lizbert, but she hoped that, at the very least, she had helped her. Even if she was only giving yoga lessons while spewing life advice under the pretence of a prophet.

That was how it was, for Shellsy Woolbag. Making others happy in exchange for lying to herself and everyone around her.

#bugsnax #fanfiction #shelda woolbag #chandlo funkbun #lizbert megafig

21 notes · View notes

heyitsryandaniel · 4 years

Text

Little Talks

16th April 2020 // 8:12 p.m

Hey y’all. What’s been up. I've been on rehab since prolly few weeks ago. I guess. why I'm signing up for this? good question. Tbh, there’s an old voice in my head that’s holding me back between my past and what’s ahead of me. It's either to get better understand about the voice, the monster that have been living inside my head that always keeps me awake from sleeping at night or maybe to get rid of it so I can get my life back (none of this true cuz I can’t keep living like this no more) when I'm in rehab and everytime Imma bout to take a step, I always found myself turn back into relapse.

Some days I can’t even address myself properly. some days Idk if I’m right or wrong. somehow there’s a day where I feel like I’m a complete different person which can deal with things that are thrown at me at a very very optimum level. there’s like more than a person living inside this mortal bodies. it’s like my mind is playing a trick on me. the symptoms may vary.

Nevermind. soon it will all be over and I’ll bury it along with my past. well that is exactly the moment where I be really looking forward to tell him I miss our little talks. But for now, I gotta win this war and that is against myself.

Oh by the way, I forgot tell her that I ain’t leave her. Looks like she still don’t figure that shit out. The last time I remembered she only gave me very minimum quality of effort which took her the next day for the respond to reach me. so tell me, is it me or her that leave, dawg? cuz I can’t tell which is right or wrong.

Anywyay, ‘fore I go. my used to be beloved bff homies the name’s N, I just knew N about to get married less than 7 month from now. Jeez man. When I knew about that news, I got a pretty messed up of mixed feelings. Happy. Blessed. A bit numb.It’s a sign where it’s time for me to let her memories go. Including all the memories that we had together as a Four in 2k15. It’s crazy how 5 years ago you went from first MJ to depression to end up being married this year. And I’m wearing your shoes now. Hell, I’m prolly need to walk a thousand miles now.

yours truly,

XIII

10 notes · View notes

sikereviewdotcom · 4 years

Text

wilfred (2011) - season 1 ep1 “happiness” review

ok so today were reviewing fucking "wilfred" basically its a story about a depressed guy who tried to kill himself but he failed because hes a pushover in life and even suicide is mocking him yea jk actually his sis prescribed him placebo so the meds he used in his suicide attempt were useless yada yada

then he sees his neighbours (on who he tots have the hots for) dog as a man and hes like lol wtf why is there a furry standing in my yard? im not into dogplay dudette, please dont do this to me ah-

unfortunately for him the chick, on the next day asks to take care of her dog meanwhile because idk shit happens in her house? and she has to work? yea something like that so anyway he accepts because hes into her and out of it aswell more out of it than anything tho

our man, ryan is pretty disturbed but it happens anyway he has NO control over his life so why would he have control on a dog fursuit wearing 40 yo man? yea exactly wouldnt make sense

wilfred enters his house and smoke a damn bong thats right, a very efficient way to introduce what kind of character were up against see, jason gann has the perfect face for such character looking all dirty in that suit with a big ass black painted dog nose you gotta think "that dawgs up to no good" and youd be damn right keep reading to discover why so basically nm happens in this episode if it isnt the setting of all the shit because well ryan has a lot of issues and its gonna get worse you cant believe this dog is gonna make things better for ryan not really hes just scamming the loser with cheap tricks and drugs

btw after (trying) to vape or w/e with wilfred, the man falls asleep, wakes up because his sis whos a bitch, remember her

its important to spot whos a bitch in each show ill be reviewing its pretty easy to balance whos the antagonist and who isnt although it often is much more complexe than that which is why im here making it all very easy and very interesting, aside from lost cases like the magic school bus i cant make that shit any worse nor TOO better like i have limited power my reviews are sike but some shows are just nah back to our whipped cream: ryans depression: he is jobless ok? so his sis is mad that he doesnt make the effort to come work and do what he has to also he used to be a lawyer btw because his father wanted him to be and then his father died and he lost his job and he hated being a lawyer so w/e but he also seemingly lost all reasons to live and redacted more than one suicide letter so im not sure what to think about it he was really eager to die yknow his sis couldnt care less tho its like "yo stop ruining my image im trynna get you a job in my hospital fuckface" yea see that why shes an inconsiderate bitch

so instead of going to work because of wilfred, ryan takes him for a while btw that vermin also tries to get elijah (the actor playing ryan is elijah wood obvs btw so this series already gets 5 points to begin with i dont make the rules) to throw a tennis ball and dont forget this ball ok? its gonna come back and start a whole drama its the beginning of our adventure a ball

next theyre in a restauration thing eating chips and drinking a beer together dog and his friend then the waitress comes and

happens the tiddies eating, it almost one fucking minute im sure we could all feel the embarassement of having your animal rubbing its balls and penis against your friend whos over for the nights leg in the middle of spring and youre just trying to get it back but wow the hormones are hitting it hard its like a cleaning robot vibrating on a grandma whos cardiacs chest and you trynna take that little asshole away but for some reason its rubbed in olive oil so not only does it reeks of olive, its also slippery as heck and you can see your grandma spasmming on her soon-to-be deathbed, she has spasms for god sake no the robot no someone stop it from stimulating the old ladys torso ah shit marguerite died after drowning in her drooling

not even died of an heart attack nah, it was such a messy death she suffered so much no one could do anything its like the robot was sentient yknow and well same goes for wilfred hes making it on purpose but uses the excuse : he likes the boobs it nothing personal, ryan

w/e they leave after paying (not for the side tits tho, it was a freebie for dogs) after that shit happens (i wont spoil you EVERYTHING, im just painting a pic here ok?) at this point you could wonder "is wilfred being a dick on purpose or its just about said instincts? how much percentage of his behavior is actually dog and how much is ryans mind (the guy is deranged there is no denying that but how much? )) whats sure is that his owner likes her dog vm and hes maining that chick

good for him? but it also happens that before that, elijah just threw the ball above the gate and into his much less friendly neighbour because he was sick of the dog asking to throw it and so yea, there is a tension between ryan and wilfred not any kind of tension, exactly the kind of elija x reader fanfic i wanted to read except pov: im a canine furry and i smoke weed on a daily basis and im a jackass

theyre almost breaking up someone does something about it i was seriously getting into it wow oh no fuck look at me tearing one or two here

rip their new born bromance? or... is it all there is to it? well see no obviously its the problem we were waiting for because when our fella enters back home and idk whatever else happens its night and his sister comes home and she goes all "lol actually i gave you placebo itd be dangerous otherwise you numbfuck" but shes quickly muted once our man notices his dog friend in his yard... its time for a reunion a heart to heart conversation to proceed so he has to ditch his sis which he casually does bros before hoes

its again about the ball which HE WILL go and fetch by passing over the fence to get in neighbours yard but damn it cant be just that? wouldnt it make a lame crappy story? we need some actions, we got the tits, the beer, no job, delinquency has no limit so fuck it says the dog as he smashes the window and enters the bikers house because he SMELLS (like he smells the shit streaks you have on your pants) the weed, ryan is like "no fuck bro no shit fuck ah-" then sees the damn weed which they steal ok? hes really a pushover he has not got the right idea of stopping being one because thats what his new friends supposed to be here for yknow trynna get his loser into a winner, that lil camper gotta level up his game, go get into the business of life barging in kicking the door to enter, no shame nor hesitation were trying to make him STEP UP for HIMSELF but guess what? ill tell you later or itd be a spoil in a spoil surely a bad paradoxal medium w/e business going on blablabla theyre up to no good thats for sure as sure as how much ryans actually enjoy this the mans into this pee slash poop affair:

spoiler alert: he does it and

im just quoting him here : he never felt more alive nor glad to be so i guess thats whats life about shitting in peoples affair, stealing weed plants and quitting your job on your first day (you havent showed up tho so w/e you never really worked in that place no one knows you its all good you can get back in that place looking innocent and smiling with your broken ribs "yea nah i never had a job here and ditched yall huh" thats foxy of him kinda but not really since he had no intention back then to do anything for himself it was all strings pulled by a fucking dog hilarious really im having a kick haha no

so what next? theyre best friends? man and dog, a wonderful friendship happens he has no more family to support him but HE HAS A DOG guys he was so into it im feeling sorry for this hobot-to-be schizophrenic man

i wont spoil you but trust me when i say not to trust a furry who eats tits on your first date

in conclusion: it was a pretty decent first episode ill update my final thoughts on the first season once im done watching it but so far its recommandable the camera work is pretty cool like its not just thoughtless filming we actually have a nice feel to it, the setting of the series is esthetically pleasing you get nice colors and it aint boring, its not like a FRIENDS episode yknow? dawg i dislike how boring it looks filming wise for start but damn i aint reviewing FRIENDS rn so next, the comedy? after all its a comedy genre series not a drama, idk if id review an actual depressive show on here thatd bum the vibe out ok? i know im making all my revs awesome w/e it is that i choose to rate and comment but still im serving you a plate of my finest sheez not any fizzle in the mizzle ok?

anyway yea the humor aint bad, i havent laughed my ass of but i did find it amusing to watch the jokes may actually kick in in the second episode ill have to update this rev alright? just hang on to your balls peeps this fam will serve in due time

rating: 7,5/10 scenery/camera work 7/10 comedy 8/10 interest/entertaining points total: 7,5/10 for a first episode is fine enough to be recommanded, like a "give it a chance" sorta case yknow isnt the most hilarious show youll watch but its fine especially if youre into homoromantic tension between a furry and elijah wood

tg, out

#wilfred #review #series review #wilfred review #wilfred 2011 #furry #sike reviews

3 notes · View notes

mmseonchan · 5 years

Text

♡　 for anyone interested i’m yeehaw incarnate, my name is nikki, cdt, i would be house baek ho i think and i haven’t written in group rp in a long time ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ usually i stick to indie but i’m trying to practice self care so, here i am today. thank you for coming to my ted talk. i prefer to plot over discord, because tumblr has an agenda and it ain’t mine, so please tumblr message me if discord is a possibility. if not, that’s alright too partner. anyway let’s get this show on the road.

these pages are mobile friendly !! feel free to click here for the full biography profile and stats, and click here for the connections page but they’re garb. onto the summary below !!

chae seonchan, please call him chan, age twenty three, he’s in his final year before post grad in house ju jak. he is a divination major and a huge divination and runes nerd, it’s like when math majors just talk about math all day but worse because he’s talking about (͡ ͡° ͜ つ ͡͡°) the future maybe. oh also he’s a half-blood country boy who moved to seoul when he was thirteen.

kind, open-minded and he’s very chill until he isn’t.

he’s like the friend who’s always got a fidget spinner out just getting to town yeehaw but instead of a fidget spinner, imagine it’s a deck of tarot cards. and instead of memes he’s spitting out big fat dank unwanted predictions.

he’s got a lot of decks that he thinks have different juju and they look different. lowkey if you are his friend you can maybe tell what kind of a day he’s having by the deck he has on hand.

he prefers to practice the kind of divination called cartomancy. basically, this the one that predictions are made through cards. it’s the same type of divination that trelawney preferred in the original hp universe ? he sucks at tea leaves and other kinds by comparison. he’s a one trick 😑

cliche guy who’s so nice to girls they think he isn’t into them so they friend-zone him thinking he’s already friend-zoned them or is ghei, and he’s in a state of perpetual sadness.

he likes to be given gifts but don’t be surprised if he gives you a return gift shortly after even if ur like “chan it’s your birthday...just take the dang gift.” he’ll just ( ಠ ͜ʖರೃ)

sometimes he gets this ‘yeh u livin but r u rly alive tho dawg’ energy and idk where it comes from or why he do that

intro sample

something had changed. oh. that’s not true. everything had changed, a boy no longer running around covered in scrapes, strawberry stains and magic while he could hear the sound of his mother whispering beneath her breath on top of the tinkling concord of stonework runes. his father a maeobsa who’s only magic was to somehow til a whole field in a single day. hey, that was magic to seonchan back then, too. something in the way everything was magic then, out in the middle of daegu, was a nostalgia so painful it was better just to forget it entirely. because the birds sound different in seoul. they sing a sadder tune.

he peers at his hands, a spread across the table of laminated tarots as he patiently, somewhat absentmindedly shuffled, arranged, removed, resorted, replaced. just until it feels right. there’s no point in paying too close to attention, because fate does what it wants, he isn’t changing it, he’s interpreting it, after all. a darting glance, shifty, why does he always look so shifty when someone passes his table in the common room, and then he flips them all. seonchan finds loose threads and misleading leaps in most of them. but the eight of cups, upright mocks him, he scoffs. scoffs at a card. because what do you know, stupid card. EIGHT OF CUPS, right side up :+ﾟescapism, +ﾟsomething missing. yeah. ya think ? he rolls his eyes. divination is so stupid. he loves it so much, the prolific sense of calm that comes when he turns it with his own hand, on its head. EIGHT OF CUPS, upside down : +ﾟtry again, +ﾟwalk away from unfavorable results. that’s better. ha, take that stupid cards. whoever said divination is bullshit, whoever said it wasn’t useful or accurate ? he shuffles them together like he’s about to play 52 card pick up and shoves them all right off the side of the table into his rucksack. slings it over his shoulder like it had personally offended him and sets off out of the divination classroom. people talk, people say divination is for suckers. he thinks it’s everything, and he plans to show them that too.

dm me for more information and let us brainstorm, i’m bad at intros *sob*

#mm:intro #mm:plotcall #(；一_一) ━━━♡ ɴɪᴋᴋɪ.ᴇxᴇ #*** can i get a yeehaw

13 notes · View notes

notveryglittery · 6 years

Text

a walk in the park (2)

summary: “It was almost too good to be true. I’d never find another pair like that, not if I looked for a hundred years.” ships: romantic royality, platonic moxiety. platonic logince, eventual romantic analogical. platonic lamp. / words: 2,100 notes: another shout out to @euelioi because this au would not exist without them!!! hope y’all like this chapter :3 @fandersfic-royality @fandersfic-moxiety | read on ao3

ch. 1 | ch. 2

It was nearing the end of the day and Patton was practically vibrating in his chair. Mrs. Dungey had stopped by an hour ago to pick up Madison and Virgil had brought her out personally. He never failed to do so and Patton thought it adorable, Virgil’s obvious favoritism. It worked out just fine, though, since Mrs. Dungey was partial to Virgil as well. There were only six daycare dogs left to be picked up, four of which belonged to Roman Sanders.

Patton sighed.

He couldn’t help it, okay! Roman was just so charming and kind! He loved his pets so much which meant he probably loved just as wholly in every other way! Patton had officially been working at the front desk of Foster Dawg for six months. For the first half of the year, he had been in the back with Virgil. They’d taken care of the dogs, whether they were there for the day, or boarding for a few days longer. Just because Patton’s family owned the business didn’t mean that he could automatically get the position he wanted. He’d been okay with that; it meant more time spent with his best friend and all the cute dogs. Besides, it was important for him to understand every job at the daycare!

The first time he met Roman Sanders was a Thursday. Patton was full on sweets from Porto’s and he knew he had Jeopardy to look forward to that night with his parents. It had been his first time handling the four dogs left by the youngest Sanders son and Patton was immediately smitten with them. The husky, Walt, knew lots of tricks; the British golden, Shadow, was the sleepiest of good boys; the pompoodle, Cooper, loved to play; the corgi, Einstein, was incredibly well behaved. He was almost sad to see them go but Virgil, who was getting the hang of this job much more quickly than Patton was, had promised they’d be back another day.

With Virgil leading Shadow and Cooper out, Patton took up the rear with Walt and Einstein. A voice rang out from the lobby.

“My babies!!!” it screeched and quite suddenly, Patton was being dragged forward by the husky. Virgil had similar issues with the pompoodle; again, he was better at this than Patton was, and managed to reign the canine in with ease. Patton, however, went stumbling forward. He lost his grip on the corgi’s leash but he apparently had too good a hold on Walt’s. He braced for impact, expecting to slam face first into the tiled floor, but instead…

“I’m so sorry!” the voice was saying this time, full of laughter and embarrassment. “I just get so excited seeing them after being apart for so long and…”

Wide blue met shining green.

Patton was fiercely aware of the hands gripping his forearms, keeping him from falling over. Eager barking was the first thing he heard, followed quickly by his name. He blinked and shook his head, pulling away.

“Patton!” Virgil was saying, tone thick with worry, “are you okay?!”

“I’m okay…” He heard himself answer, gaze still locked with the owner of the dogs Patton had so quickly fell in love with… He wondered if that had anything to do with the butterflies in his stomach…

“Pardon me,” Virgil said, angrily. He hooked an arm around Patton’s elbow and put some distance between the pair. “You really should be more careful.” He shoved over the leashes for Shadow and Cooper, rather unceremoniously.

That seemed to snap the other out of it.

“Of course!” He exclaimed, distractedly patting the top of Walt’s head.

“My sincerest apologies,” he offered to Patton. His paperwork and payment had already been taken care of by their receptionist. He retrieved Einstein’s leash from the floor. The last one was Walt’s, still held firmly in Patton’s hand.

“I suppose I’ll just… be on my way then…” It felt like something out of a movie, Patton would tell Virgil later on. It was like slow motion, their hands meeting to exchange the leash. Their fingertips brushed. Patton felt sparks.

“… tton…”

A dazzling smile spread across his face.

“I’m Roman,” he said, with far less grandeur than the last few minutes, but just as genuine. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” His voice was eager and curious and Patton hoped he wasn’t imagining it.

“Patton?”

Virgil scoffed, rolling his eyes. It was hardly how he should be treating a customer but this was why he worked in the back. “Yeah, real nice. He almost cracked his skull open.” He was gripping Patton’s elbow now and Patton could feel the nervous energy radiating off of his best friend.

“See you tomorrow,” Virgil snapped, tugging Patton towards the back and away from Roman. Patton, far too awestruck to do much else, gave Roman a tiny wave and a shy smile.

“Alright, Space Cadet, I know you’re head over heels, but come on…” A hand landed on his shoulder and shook him out of it.

“Forty two!” Patton shouted, jolting out of his seat.

Virgil jerked back, surprised. “Really? Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy?”

Patton pouted at him. “We watched it last night!”

Virgil grinned, fond and exasperated. “He’s gonna be here, like, any minute. You good?”

Patton nodded fervently.

“How…” He hesitated but Virgil’s patient expression spurred him on. “Do I look okay?” He patted his hair, as if it would be that easy a fix.

Virgil frowned. “If he doesn’t think you’re the cutest thing he’s ever laid eyes on regardless of how you look, then I’ll kick his ass myself.” Still, he reached forward and ruffled Patton’s hair until it wasn’t sticking up in the back anymore. There was always that one stubborn cowlick…

“Language,” Patton scolded.

Virgil snickered. “I’ll go get the babies ready.”

Patton needlessly shuffled some papers around while he waited. The last six months had been spent at the desk. Their receptionist was traveling abroad for the summer and they’d hired enough employees to help Virgil in the back for Patton to move up front. It offered him far more opportunities to interact with Roman Sanders. There was a whole lot less accidental hand brushing, unfortunately, but a whole lot more eye contact made up for it. Sometimes his brother Declan dropped the dogs off, but Roman never failed to be the one to pick them up.

The clock in the lobby struck 6pm and a pretty red car pulled into the parking lot.

Patton sat up straighter and resisted the urge to mess with his hair. He pretended he wasn’t watching as Roman’s seat belt got stuck when he tried to close the door. He pretended to be hard at work when Roman sauntered in. He pretended he wasn’t internally screaming.

“Good evening!” Roman greeted him, coming to a stop in front of the desk.

Patton looked up from the file he hadn’t actually been reading. “Hi!” he chirped in response.

Roman dug into his messenger bag for his paperwork. “Did my darlings behave today? I know my brother had to drop them off this morning and I always worry his foul mood will get to them…” He set the pink sheet of paper down on the desk.

“Oh, they were perfect, as always!” Patton said, retrieving his own copies of the paperwork.

“Speaking of Declan…” Patton began, only slightly awkwardly. “He said you had an audition…?” He repeated the very same motion as earlier, tucking a strand of hair that was not actually loose behind his ear.

Roman, who had been in the middle of taking money from his wallet, froze. He stared at Patton for a few seconds, apparently stunned. Patton tried to backtrack, feeling foolish.

“Sorry!” he squeaked, waving his hands. “I know, it’s none of my business! You don’t have to tell me! I hope you did well, though?" This was not going well, oh gosh, wrap it up, Patton! "It’s okay if you didn’t! There’s always next time! They’re going to regret it, though, if they said no to you! I mean, you’re… y’know…!” He gestured vaguely at Roman.

Roman caught Patton’s hand in his own. “I’m…?” He asked gently.

“Y—yeah,” Patton’s voice pitched, somehow, even higher.

Patton wasn’t sure how much longer they stayed like that for. They were interrupted by a door opening and a voice groaning. Patton ripped his hand from Roman’s and spun towards the sound. Virgil looked thoroughly irked.

“I swear, you two…” he mumbled.

“Oh!!!” Roman squealed. He knelt down and patted his knees, opening his arms wide.

“Wait, no,” Virgil realized a second before the impending disaster struck.

“Come to me, my dear ones!!”

The dogs lunged towards Roman, yipping excitedly. Clearly, they were feeling some type of way over not having spent more time with him that morning. Virgil was good but he wasn’t good enough to get four dogs to heel. Before they could take him much farther, he dropped their leashes completely, and stumbled to a stop, catching himself on the desk. He and Patton watched as Roman was knocked over by Walt and Shadow. He fell over onto his back, laughing while Cooper and Einstein danced around his head and feet. Patton cooed at the sight.

“I can’t deal with this,” Virgil announced, turning and stalking out of the lobby.

Patton came around the desk and picked up the leashes for the pompoodle and the corgi.

“Roman?” he prompted carefully. Roman struggled to sit up with his dogs attacking him so affectionately, but he managed.

“I apologize,” he said between giggles. He clambered to his feet, grabbing Walt and Shadow’s leashes as he did so. Patton handed over Cooper and Einstein’s leashes as well; he swore electricity sparked where their fingers brushed. “I didn’t even get to give them goodbye kisses this morning, I was in such a hurry…”

Patton’s mind blanked on the word kisses.

He continued on autopilot, taking Roman’s payment, and filing the papers away. Roman was smiling at him, hesitant and shy and so unlike Patton had ever seen him before. He started paying attention just as Roman spoke.

“I’m… glad I got to see you today.” His voice was soft.

Patton, somehow, managed to not melt right then and there. “I’m glad I got to see you, too!” He fluttered his hands a bit before dropping them and clasping them together behind the counter.

Roman looked like he was ready to say something else when his phone rang. It was the Bill Nye, the Science Guy theme song. Patton giggled. Roman never once tore his gaze from Patton as he fumbled for his phone. He finally answered the call but he looked disgruntled as he brought the phone to his ear.

“Yeah, Lo?”

Patton’s heart sunk a little. He wished Roman had a nickname for him…

“I just picked them all up!” He paused, nodding.

“Yeah,” he held a finger up, as if asking Patton to wait a moment, before turning away. He, somehow, kept hold of all four leashes in one hand. Patton wondered how long he’d had so many dogs to be so good at keeping track of them. He tried to ignore Roman’s half of the conversation, not wanting to eavesdrop. Roman was, by nature, a loud person, though, and so it was kind of difficult.

“Uh huh… I can be over in half an hour… Are you sure?… Oh! Okay, fifteen minutes… Yeah, yeah, I’ll follow all traffic laws and speed limits, whatever… See you in a bit.”

Roman hung up and sighed. He carded a hand through his hair and Patton swooned at the sight. He composed himself just as Roman faced him again.

“Is everything okay?” Patton asked.

“Maybe,” Roman answered honestly, running his thumb across the phone screen. He looked a little put out and Patton just wanted to reach across the desk, and hold his hand, and reassure him that everything would be alright, and…

“... I’m sure it’ll be okay,” Roman was saying and Patton internally scolded himself for spacing out.

For a minute, they both stood still, on either side of the desk, staring at each other. Patton might have just died on the spot if he had to look into those pretty green eyes any longer and, apparently, Roman’s dogs could tell. They decided all at once to start squirming impatiently.

“Yes, yes, sweeties,” Roman exclaimed, as if simply that would appease them. “We’re going, we’re going—”

He gave Patton one last smile before turning and leaving. The very second Roman was pulling out of the parking lot, Patton pivoted away from the door, and screamed into his hands.

#sanders sides fan fiction #royality #moxiety #romantic royality #platonic moxiety #awitp fic #dani writes

207 notes · View notes

24hrsoda · 6 years

Text

Dallas + Dog headcanons???

(based off this post)

-Dally isn’t much of a Pet Person™️. He doesn’t hate animals, he loves ‘wild’ animals like broncos and bulls, and there’s rodeo dogs that can herd and do specific jobs and he thought they were pretty cool and would occasionally pet them or feed them

-But he doesn’t get the whole pet thing. The rodeo dogs and other animals are all just like...farm animals. With the dogs they’d just dump enough food to feed them all and fill a trough with water and let them be. They weren’t trained with treats and praise so they weren’t the nicest, most social dogs. Very snap-y and growl-y.

-He doesn’t know why anyone would want a dog just to hold and pet it and love it and have it sitting in their house without making it work or training it to do anything. besides he already has Johnny to do that to so what’s he need a dog for?

-But then comes the random Dog At Buck’s™️

-The Dog doesn’t actually belong to anyone, it was a stray that stuck around and it doesn’t have a name either. Buck likes the dog so it lets it stay around. He doesn’t mind as long as it’s not tearing things up or peeing on anyone’s shoes

-Dally would occasionally pet it and if he was eating he would toss it some food or something in hopes that it would stop sitting there staring at him. It only made the dog move closer and stare harder. And then it began to follow him around.

-every time Dally came to Buck’s, the dog would charge at him excitedly wagging it’s tail and jumping and if Dally didn’t pet it, it would start barking and Dally would sigh and start petting it to shut it up

-the dog isn’t trained so Dally doesn’t really see the point in keeping it around. Other than barking by the door to go outside when it needs to, the dog literally can’t do anything. It doesn’t know any tricks. It doesn’t know what sit or stay or lie down means But it likes to jump on the bed.

-Dally discovers this when he’s asleep and suddenly the dog jumps on him and wakes him up. He grabs for his knife ready to start hacking away at whoever’s trying to attack him, but it’s just the dog, and he groans and pushes it off the bed. It jumps back on. He pushes it of. It jumps back on.

-eventually he wakes up in the morning with the dog sleeping pressed against his back. not the kind of bitch he’s used to waking up in bed with lmao

-to hell with it. it’s...comfortable. And the dog can’t talk so it doesn’t immediately start talking his ear off first thing in the morning when he’s groggy from sleep

-in fact the dog doesn’t talk no matter what situation they’re in. so the dog can’t say No Dallas that’s a terrible idea or Dallas you’re crazy or anything that Dallas doesn’t want to hear. That’s pretty nice. Dally would much rather prefer the dog’s company to that of other people’s most of the time now

-After a while he doesn’t mind the dog hopping on the bed. If it happens, it happens. Once a girl complained about not wanting ‘a dirty dog crawling all over me!!!’. Dally just smirked and was like “That Dog is probably the cleanest one in this entire place” and the girl got fed up and left. After that Dallas just laughed and petted the dog and was like “good job she was getting annoying”

-after a month or two the dog basically becomes Dally’s Dog. He starts saying things like “Leave my dog alone” and “my dog’s smarter than most of ya here anyways” and “my dog wants to get in on the action too” (then laughing when whatever girl he’s with just looks at the dog horrified)

-Dally doesn’t actually know the dog’s gender. He’s like a thousand percent sure it’s a boy tho.

-Later Johnny tells him “Dally that dog’s a girl” Dallas shakes his head and is like “Nah he’s too tuff to be a girl” (the dog isn’t tuff at all she’s very fluffy and soft and doesn’t really bite that much)

- “You know what Johnny? He can be whatever he wants to be stop judging my dog you little shit.”

-He names her Johnny II as a joke. Johnny just roles his eyes at that. She’s gone so long without a name that she doesn’t actually answer to being called ‘Johnny II’. She just responds to the sound of his voice more than anything. But it’s still funny

-He can also say stuff like “wow don’t y’all just love Johnny” and Johnny’s like “Me or the dog????” And Dallas just smirks and says “Obviously the dog” and it’s the most overused joke Dally makes almost on the daily and he does it just to mess with Johnny.

-When he walks in to Buck’s he whistles and Johnny II comes running to greet him from wherever she’s hanging out. She’ll jump up and nip at his hands or jacket sleeves and he playfully wrestles with her and ruffles all the fur around her ears

-She’s a sheepdog so she has that herding instinct in her and one time she followed Dally back to the hood and the guys were playing football and she was running circles around them trying to herd them and ruined the game but it was okay because they all eventually just ended up playing with her instead of playing football anyways

-(and of course the gang all laughed when he said he named her Johnny II) ((but they hardly call her by that. They always just say ‘c’mon girl!’ or whistle or snap to get her attention))

-she sucks at rodeos though. she’s not very good at working outside her instincts. dally tried to bring her along once hoping he could train her to be a working dog but she got scared with all the commotion so he just put her in the car he’d borrowed and let her hide out there for the rest of the night

-he sits on the floor and pats his lap and she crawls over and throws herself down across his thighs so he can pet her

-he likes holding her. he’ll sleep with his arm around her or cuddling her or he’ll just carry her sometimes for no reason other than he likes the solid weight and warmth of holding her in his arms???

-when it’s super cold outside and she follows him out he’ll carry her with the excuse that “the ground is too cold for his feet I don’t want his paws to freeze to the ground”. but really carrying her keeps him warm.

-she’s not at all aggressive or rough but Dally tells people she is so kids will avoid trying to pet her if they go out. “Don’t touch him or he’ll bite your fingers off!” Then he chases the kids away and since they’re running, she excitedly chases after them too and the kids start screaming

-When he came to visit Ponyboy and Johnny in the church they asked him where the dog was before they even said hello to him. (“Hey kids” “Dallas did you bring the dog???”)

-When he was in the hospital, they asked for his ‘emergency contacts’ and he listed Darry and Johnny II

-He lives happily ever after forever with his dog

-After everything went down, Two-Bit went down to Buck’s and Buck was like “You should take the dog. She was real close to Dal and doesn’t really listen to anyone else here and we don’t know what to do with her.”

-Two-Bit takes the dog. (He offererd to give it to the Curtis brothers bc he felt like she could help Pony cope w his issues, but Darry was extremely stressed enough about everything and declined, so Two-Bit keeps the dog, but it’s basically their dog. The rest of the gang still love and care about her. And they rename her. Soda suggests Dippy ‘because Dippy Dawg was a dog and so is she!’ and they all p much agree on it.)

-Dippy lives the rest of her life with the 5 boys.

-She’s there when Two-Bit graduates. She’s there when Pony graduates and goes to college. She’s there when Steve and Soda get drafted. She’s a grouchy old pup when she finally passes but she’s still loved all the same.

#long post #dallas winston #the outsiders #headcanon #two bit mathews #darry curtis #ponyboy curtis #sodapop curtis

56 notes · View notes

boobdolan · 6 years

Text

a review of melodrama (2017) by lorde

hey what’s up it’s your boy b-dawg. the b is for boobs as in breasts. this post is a track-by-track review of melodrama, the grammy-nominated sophomore studio album by ella yelich-o’ connor (aka lorde), a new zealand singer-songwriter who likes to dance funny and eat onions. her first album was pure heroine which was pretty big bc i think people (angsty teens) related to her songs about being an angsty teen.

i’m gonna keep it real with you chief. when i first heard green light (the lead single from the album) i thought it was pretty ass. but you know what. i’m an ass man despite my username. so eventually by some karmic circumstance i was reintroduced to the album and i realised: “hey! this is pretty dope! 😎” and then i ended up writing a 4000-word extended essay on it for the IB. but that’s another story.

green light is also the first track on the album, and it’s a hella effective one. with its intro bringing listeners acapella ella™️ over sparse piano chords, it kicks open the door to the sound of melodrama and immediately subverts any expectations for a pure heroine 2.0. as the song progresses we get additional elements of new and old - the boom-bap drums recall the hip-hop influences that permeated pure heroine, while her high-pitched backing vocals in the chorus introduce listeners to new vocal stylings from a singer who was previously known for being a Cool Bean who was Too Cool for all that stuff.

as the maximalist bop green light ends, listeners are thrown even further away from the sound of pure heroine with sober. personal note: sober was the song i most liked on the album upon first listen. and I can see why. it’s because i’ve got good taste! from the spacey uber-processed backing vocals to the bongo beat to the horns in the chorus, the song’s really unlike much else in the pop scene today. i especially like the “night, midnight, lose my mind” intro because when i first heard it i was like “wtf???? cool 🤠” anyway, point is, ella and her bf did well on this track.

at this point one might think, “this girl has a thing for acapella intros to her songs”. and she does! homemade dynamite starts, like an action movie, in situ, with its musings about top gun and the house party that the album is conceptually based around. one thing i love about the song is its synths. the 80s inspiration is obvious, with the synth pad emulating the iconic Fairlight sound on kate bush’s running up that hill. however, the moodiness of the synth pad is contrasted with a sprightly riff that comes in every now and then, emphasising that Potent Teenage Mix of Emotions™️ that the album is focused around. lorde also uses contrast in her lyrics, pairing wordy, literary, stream-of-consciousness style verses with almost childish phrases like “know I think you’re awesome, right???” it’s things like this that really encapsulate the state of being teenaged to me - that uncertain transitional period between adolescence and adulthood.

the following song starts with a very indie-sounding guitar, which is an unconventional sound for a lorde song. but the louvre is so typically lordey in that it shows off one of her greatest skills - the ability to create memorable, quotable lines with unique phrasing. who else would think of stammering the line “i overthink your punctuation use”?? who else would think of using a spoken “broadcast the boom boom boom boom and make ‘em all dance to it” as a hook??? another thing of note in this song is its extended U2-esque instrumental outro, courtesy of jack antonoff. sometimes when i listen to it, i understand why ella is banging him.

jack then mumbles the intro to the next song and starts playing the piano. after a few bars, ella joins him and her voice basically has sex with his tinkling on the ivories. liability is objectively great. lyrically, she reaches mind-bending extremes that many of her contemporaries can only dream of achieving. there’s a verse where she goes “home, into the arms of the girl that [she] loves” which is very interestingly constructed - it hits listeners with the initial shock of “oh wait is ella coming out” and just Leaves It for a few lines. and theN BOOM!!!! she’s actually talking about herself. that’s pretty cool. one other thing is her rhyme scheme in the line “the truth is, i am a toy that people enjoy ‘til all of their tricks don’t work anymore” which has a devastating effect that always gets me, even though it greatly takes advantage of her bananies voice.

now the listener is halfway through the album, and at this point they’re likely as hard as the feelings in the title of the next song. hard feelings/loveless brings us back into the world of electronic drums and synths after the minimalism of liability, and it does so excellently, providing an ambient atmosphere with its muffled beat and echoey distorted guitar. this song used to be one of my least favourites on the album because I thought the L O V E L E S S chant in the second part sounded kinda dumb and edgy. but then i watched lorde’s performance of the song for VEVO and ?????? WtF????? it really shines with a small choir and a boombox. fantastic. i also appreciate the little paul simon sample that bridges the two parts together - it’s a rare example of lorde wearing her influences on her sleeve for this album. also paul simon is one cool mf. i pop my pussy to graceland 24/7. 😎👌

taking a note from jack antonoff’s albums, the next song is a reprise, which have been used by many artists after the beatles to say “hey look my album is cohesive!” even though the only reason why it’s cohesive is because it’s cohesively shit. that’s not the case with sober II (melodrama), which functions as a response to the first sober. the parent song’s repeated calls of “can you feel it?” are immediately countered in sober II’s first line: “you asked if i was feeling it, i’m psycho high”. that’s cool because it reinforces the house party concept of the album. however, while i think the strings and trap drums combo sounds cool on paper, this production choice is the album’s first misstep because it sounds like jack put together 2 apple loops on garageband that didn’t quite fit.

luckily, before lorde turns into one of the migos, we’re treated with another piano song - writer in the dark. a word about lorde’s vocal performance in this song: WOW!!!!!!!!!! 😃😃😃 good stuff! in the verses, her raspy, imperfect voice highlights the intimacy and personal nature of the lyrics. in the chorus, she double tracks her voice and sings with a more round tone, which gives the eerie effect of sounding a bit like kate bush. it’s ok. i’m a bush man too. jack does a little production trick in the outro where ella sings the hook progressively louder as he fades out her vocal and lets the song be overtaken by strings. while it’s cool, i feel like he quite obviously snagged it from the outro of david bowie’s “heroes”, where a similar trick was achieved by the production god brian eno. jack then did it again on the song slow disco by st. vincent later in the year. side note: i’m still kinda pissed about what he did to st. vincent’s masseduction. more on that another time.

the next song, which should’ve been a single, features the metaphor of a supercut. i’m not sure how i feel about that because, on one hand, the term feels very millennial, like a better-written version of katy perry’s save as draft. you know what i mean? like those songs that aged fast - crazy in love with its pager reference, and payphone with its..... payphone reference. on the other hand, a supercut is pretty timeless, as montages have been used in cinema since the french first figured out how to make moving pictures. and the word sounds cool, so it’s ok i guess. but that’s beside the point. the song’s really nice, with some very interesting moments. one notable instance is lorde’s phrasing and the instrumentation in the prechorus - “in your car, the radio on”. the instrumentation just stops for a beat after ella sings the line, in a genius move that makes the song Even More Boppable!!. another moment is how the beat changes during the final choruses - from mellow, with her voice sounding like it’s coming out of a cassette player, to full, regaining all the instrumentation of the original choruses. then the song ends with a weird echoey vocal outro that’s a fantastic moment for me, especially after the intensity of the final choruses. boner time!!!!! 😃 one last cool thing about the song is that i feel the line “so I fall into continents and cars” is an Excessively paul simon thing to say. it’s one of those abstract things that just sounds GREAT, like “fat charlie the archangel sloped into the room” from his song crazy love, part II.

speaking of part twos, the end of supercut transitions into the bassy, atmospheric synths of liability (reprise). unfortunately, i still haven’t gotten round to fully appreciating this song. to me, it’s the biggest misstep on melodrama. don’t get me wrong - it’s a nice enough song, it’s really chill, but it feels slight because of its association to the majestic, melodic liability. apart from their lyrics, there’s not much that links the two. i feel that liability needed no reprise; it’s a work that stands on its own. i felt the same way about yandhi when kanye west announced it. yeezus doesn’t need another album associated to it! it’s perfection by itself. also, someone pointed out that the drums on liability (reprise) are the same as those on taylor swift’s call it what you want, and the last time taylor and jack screwed up a great indie artist’s work was fast slow disco, which we don’t talk about in this house.

finally, we come to the end of lorde’s house party with perfect places. and what a brilliant ending it is. there’s something so stirring about the drum beat, with its crunchy, decisive snare. there’s something equally moving about the synths and chord progression in the chorus, which give me chills like loud organs echoing in a church. when put together, they sound industrial, menacing, as if they move into your soul and alienate you from your own body. but at the same time, they’re an emotional release, a source of comfort like bruce springsteen’s cathartic 70s and 80s albums. another cathartic element - the use of the word “fuck” in the chorus. i could write a whole essay on it tbh. to me, it represents an intensely freeing release of the bad vibes and negativity in one’s life - for lorde, perhaps, her failed relationship and the state of the world in 2016. you know how studies have shown that when you shout “FUCK!!!!😡😡” after hitting your toe on furniture, it helps ease the pain? it’s like that. so while saying something taboo on the record is such an edgy angsty teenage thing to do, but also reflects lorde’s release from her pain. or maybe i’m reading too much into it.

the album ends as it begins, with ella’s bare vocals, reminding us that she is once again the Queen of Indie Pop. overall, melodrama gets a

9/10

for being really cool. peace out bitches. 🤠

#lorde #melodrama #review #music #music review #album #album review

8 notes · View notes

gibbzer · 5 years

Text

To Scotland With Love

There was a gap of several years between the last blog post I wrote and this one. In that time, my dad developed dementia. I’ve written about dementia before - in my BBC film ‘Golden Wedding’ - and am working on two screenplays that deal with it just now. In 2017 the estimated proportion of the general population aged 60 and over with dementia was between 5 to 8 per 100.

“I was fifteen months old when I gave my mother a black eye. We were asleep, huddled together, in our wee hole in the wall bed, waiting for my dad to arrive home from East Africa. The knock came. I jumped up, startled, and smacked my mother hard in the eye. She hadn’t seen my dad for a year. The next day they were the talk of the close. The voices were hushed. Stilettos click click clacking on the stone stairs. (In time with their tongues) ‘He’s back a meal hour and look at the state of her face…!’

My dad never raised his hand to a soul. Well, not till the dementia took hold and he managed quite a few scraps with That Big Bastard John (his words, not mine) He'd dared to question my dad’s rightful occupancy of the care home bedroom overlooking the Clyde. No, Wee Andy Gibb (as he was affectionately known) was not your stereotypical west of Scotland hard man but a typical west of Scotland hard-working one.

Descriptions like hard-working are loaded, implying a superiority over those who don’t work for a living, but it’s exactly what he was. 'Salt of the earth’ is also overused but he was that too. Without him, our lives would have been devoid of all taste and flavour. My mother was in charge, there was no arguing with that, but he agreed to her having this power. Willingly, without rancour and with good grace.

He liked to look out, my father. Beyond the river he grew up on. The first time he left Greenock it was to join the marines, to do his national service. Duty done, he came home to serve his apprenticeship as an electrician but the bug had bit hard. He was soon on his travels again, this time to Borneo. Within a year he was home, on the point of death from Dengue fever, and no clue as to who or where he was. My nana nursed him back to life, told him he was never to set foot outside Greenock again, then waved him off six months later when the memories of those far flung places had returned to invade his dreams.

During his lifetime, he visited every continent bar South America. He plied his trade in eleven different countries, including his own. But he always seemed most proud of the jobs he’d done in Scotland. He never tired of telling us he’d rewired the big fire station in Greenock. My mother would raise one perfectly painted-on eyebrow, ‘Well. If you’re going to start a fire, I suppose a fire station’s the best place for it.’ It was water off my dad’s back, though he did have a temper when riled. Red hair, you see. But outburst over, it was soon forgotten. He never held a grudge. My mother, on the other hand, never forgot a trick. Especially if it was played on her.

He lived the last few years of his life in the place he was born. Not far from the Greenock fire station that had miraculously survived his workmanship. He spent his time, looking out beyond the river once more, from his small care home room. The fact he thought he was in Africa comforted me. I hoped he was not truly confined by those tiny walls but still travelling in what was left of his mind. The truth was, wherever he lived, my dad took Scotland with him. I've lost count of the number of Caledonian societies my folks belonged to. Everywhere they went, he and my mother found their kin. They organised highland gatherings in the sweltering heat of Jakarta and celebrated St Andrew’s Day in Lagos in kilts and sashes. Some might find this expat patriotism cloying. Or worse still, insulting. My nineteen year old self was mortified by it. But, make no mistake, there’s a hierarchy among ex-pats too. It all depends on whether you’re diplomatic or managerial. Or neither. Married. Or single. Then there’s the size of company car. Or where your house is. Or how many bedrooms it has. And how many locals are employed to work in it. It’s a dislocating experience for a working class family to be transported to another world, where Nigerians or Indonesians are paid to cook your tea. My mum responded by teaching every one of the men or women who graced her kitchen, how to cook mince, stovies and a decent lentil soup. She, in her turn, learnt how to make the best West African curry I have ever tasted.

My dad was never high up in the ex-pat hierarchy but it didn’t bother him. Because he was confident in who he was and where he came from. He worked alongside men of all nationalities and colour and was close to many of them. Once in Northern Nigeria, during the Biafran war, he was called out in the middle of the night to identify his foreman, Gabriel. Gabriel had been beheaded by Federal soldiers. He wasn’t even from Nigeria. He’d come from the Cameroons to find work to keep his family. The exact same reason my father had left his own country. All my dad could do was make sure Gabriel’s family were looked after but he never forgot his foreman or what he’d sacrificed to provide for his own. In my dad’s view, it was the mark of the man. The story of 'Dear Frankie' grew out of my long distance relationship with this absent father, because the first eight years of my life were spent communicating with him by letter. My mother point-blank refused to leave Scotland and my father could not stay. Who was the selfish one? Her for staying? Or him for going? Neither. It’s what suited them both.

I revelled in having a father who lived abroad. Our tenement flat was full of exotic treasures. We had a huge tiger skin rug in front of our fire, head and teeth included. (I'm ashamed when I think about it now.) But then I used to lie on it, pretend it could fly and go on adventures as far away as my dad’s were. I always had the best birthday cakes, because they were delivered in a box, sent by him. My Deputy Dawg cake was the talk of Primary Two. I told everyone it had come all the way from Pakistan even though, in all probability, it had been knocked up in Aulds the bakers, just down the road.

Then one day, out of the blue, my mother decided it was time we went with him and we were all shipped to the west coast of Africa. The first time I saw a black person was when the deck passengers alighted at Sierra Leone. My brother and I stood on deck, shoulders all pink and blistered, fascinated by the women with their babies on their backs. I was still feeling the wrench of being separated from my silver cross doll's pram and it confused me. Where were all the prams? My dad explained they didn’t use prams because babies preferred to be carried close to their mums. I never put a doll in a pram again.

My dad was a Labour man but he was not a radical thinker. Far from it. He and I agreed to disagree on many political issues but we almost had a catastrophic falling out in the 80’s because my folks were thinking of emigrating to South Africa. I was beside myself. How could he even consider it. His answer was simple, he needed to work. In the end, they didn’t go and our relationship remained intact.

I’ve been thinking about him a lot recently. It’s been prompted by many things, including the Clutha tragedy. Partly because he worked on the oil rigs in Indonesia for a few years, and travelled to and fro by helicopter. (Our hearts were always in our mouths when he took off for his fortnightly shifts.) And because the emotional coming together of the Scottish diaspora, in response to what happened in Glasgow, reminded me of how viscerally he reacted to any tragedy back home.

Perhaps it's easy to feel sentimental about a country when you're miles away, but why do men and women like my father remain so connected to a place they've chosen not to live in? Why do they cling to their national identity with such ferocity? Because it is who they are. It is them. My dad didn't travel half way round the world in search of somewhere to belong. He was striking out, in the sure and certain knowledge, that he'd already found it. And he always respected other people and their culture because his culture, his ‘Scottishness’ was everything to him.

The last six dementia years aside, Wee Andy had a great life. Rich in experience, full of adventure. For a man of his class and generation, he was extraordinarily lucky to have lived it. And I was equally lucky to have lived some of it with him. “

1 note · View note

thecrotchhand · 6 years

Text

health class >:(

-ug

-did somebody say rick of suicide

-”ooh, there’s a laser!” -student teacher

-good ways to manage stress- “punching a hole through the wall”

-”do you have a long-term goal?” “dying”

-”we should deport justin bieber back to canada”

-”if you say you're gonna do something, then do it" "i'm gonna kill myself ;))"

-"i'm busy singing Africa by Toto" *off-key singing continues*

-"when you lose weight, where does it go?" "it goes to weight heaven"

-the guy next to me started playing Africa quietly from his phone

-"i'm talking to bowl cut. just kidding chris. i love you." "...i'm getting a haircut."

-"you don't lift to get swole" -st

-"that sounds not good for you" "i'm gonna try it"

-"during pregnancy, the women in here are gonna need more folate, iron, and calcium" "no, i'm gonna need a coathanger"

-"liar liar pants for hire"

-"is eustress good stress or bad stress?" (long silence) "it's good stress! yay!" -st

-good ways to relax- "11 hours straight of anime"

-"everything's gonna be ok" lmao good joke

-"precipitation... wait i mean perspiration. it still counts, it's raining from your body."

-ways to manage depression- "kill yourself :D"

-help the teacher (flynn) has been yelling at us for the past five minutes

-uh oh she said damn it's gettin' wild

-she went back into her office after and all of a sudden we hear a quiet "oh, happy Wednesday"

-"is it possible to have an abortion 700 weeks late?"

-"what's the r-word we talked about?" "rawr XD"

-"what does autonomy mean?" "it's like grey's anatomy but for cars"

-alcoholism is a good sims trait

-guy: sneezes

guy's friend: "god bless... america"

-”what do you say to your sibling during an argument?” "you should've been aborted" “no”

- "your personality might be kind of boring" "like a potato!" "yeah"

-"what does down to earth mean?" "it means you're like the lorax, you speak for the trees"

-"he was happy?" "yeah! put him working with me and larson for ten years and... we fixed him!"

-the student teacher generally has a habit of sarcastic yaying and it entertains me

-"jason (chris) move your head" "just throw a rock at it, it'll move"

-someone was trying to come up with weird phobias and someone suggested genital herpes

-"sir you've been diagnose with hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia " "aahHH"

-"if someone comes up to you and says a mean word, you're gonna be upset" "hey sam" "what" "fuck"

-"i found a big circle"

-"*cough* flynn"

flynn, out of nowhere: "i heard that"

-"have you guys seen cabin in the woods?" "wait, the one with the cabin in the woods?"

-:(

-"let's say you don't have a gun" "pft, not in america"

-we were talking about miscarriage and cody goes "fetus... deletus"

-examples of anger- "when mcdonald's doesn't have ice cream"

-video from the 80's: "depression isn't talked about"

-a seal saved this guy's life and he just: 'ah yes it was all because of god' ¿¿¿???

-80's commercials are the weirdest shit

-yepperdoodles

-"...gonna get addicted to xanax"

-"you guys all did a really good job on your tests" "i got a C" "i got a D+" "yeah there wasn't a single person i was not happy with"

-"you say you see really good scores, but what i'm seeing is a D"

-examples of compromise- "i got a D+, but i feel i deserved an A, so let's meet in the middle with a C" "but what do i get out of it?" "if he passes the class, you don't have to see him anymore"

-"oh no my one feeling"

-"what are some ways to resolve conflict?" "killing yourself"

-"put away the candy this is health class"

-(talking about conflict) "...then the fire nation attacked"

-(softly) "yo what the heck dawg"

-"if they started a rumor-" "kill them"

-"when i was-" "a young boy"

-"you got two more weeks with the student teacher, then you get me back" *high pitched screaming*

-"they never broke out, and then one of them broke out"

-"wrestling uniforms are skimpy"

-(across the room) "hey man, can i touch your butt?" "i don't mind, dude"

-"let's say my wife is going to leave me and i'm... celebrating! oh wait"

-"they're fat and skinny, they're white, black, pink, purple, and orange-" "trump"

-"listen, idiotface"

-"do you think... the government is hiding the cure for cancer...?"

-i love government conspiracy theories during health

-"i... declare... bAnkrUptCY"

-"are we watching a movie?" "maybe if we're lucky it's the ring and it'll kill us"

-lmao i don't need drugs to feel numb

-"aww, flynn, we know you're drinkin' a bottle in the back room" "yeah, just look at ya, why wouldn't i?"

-The Weed™

-"weed stops your sperm from being produced correctly" "perfect, it's birth control too"

-"weed might shrink your... parts" "i think i'll just stick to meth"

-"weed might give you a special needs child" "it's wilson 2.0!"

-"i'm gonna be a drug dealer but not a mean one like a nice, happy 'eyy, wanna buy some drugs? :3'"

-oh no, grandma's growing weed in the basement

-"ahh, the weed's on fire"

-"guess that's how they caught the drug dealers. the deer were high"

-teacher: "ooh, i just sounded like yoda: don't smoke The Weed™"

-"hey, where can you buy a still? asking for a cousin"

-"raise your hand if you want to watch hentai"

-this guy keeps responding to people with "yes, my child?"

-"they put aborted fetuses in vaccines" "oh honey no"

-"how do you keep yourself from getting sick?" "stop breathing"

-examples of painkillers- "cocaine"

-"i know elvis presley is still alive because the king never dies"

-biggest drinker in our grade: "am i gonna be an alcoholic?" class: "you already are"

-c o m p r o m i s i n g p o s i t i o n

-"trick question, i am hentai"

-"what would you do... if i said i could put you in your own hentai"

-"you're gettin' a hole in your nose oh my goodness"

-"depression" "nope" "wait... depression"

-"I can't remember the happiness i felt before drugs" "i can't remember feeling happiness at all"

-"oh you're back! just in time for meth"

-"oh my garage"

-"lotta meth in that town" "nah just incest"

-"it kills your brain cells. which some of you can't afford (staring directly at the class alcoholic)"

-"why do dentists have the highest suicide rate?? probably because everyone hates the dentist, i dunno"

-"that's accusations" "uuuuuhh no" "oh"

-"oh my gads. you got some meth?"

-"in the puss!" "terms" "sorry. vag!"

-"there's a pretty good chance that drug came out of someone's anal cavity" "that's why i don't do heroin"

-"hey, whose buttocks did this come out of?"

"i'm gonna go shoot myself with some dog food, brb"

-"oh my chicken pie"

-"i've been told we're gonna draw a penis"

-help they're genuinely discussing giving babies steroids

-"most of the female reproductive cells are useless" "just like my brain cells"

-the teacher keeps referring to developing babies as "little rat" and "alien creature"

-"if you eat my period snacks, i will eat you"

-*chiming* "is that santa??"

-"what's the only fluid that doesn't go to the baby?" "water" "no" "air" "no" "earth" "..." "fire"

-"you're supposed to snort those calcium pills" "don't snort the calcium pills"

-"mr. o'reilly, when'd you miss your period?"

-"is it true you puke the day after you get pregnant?" "no, if you puke the day after, it's from the alcohol the night before"

-fetus = jumbo shrimp

- i too, am a very sad lookin' heart

-"no, you cannot throw up your baby"

-"now that we've taken the baby home, we need to figure out what to do with it" "flush it down the toilet"

-"if you wear a hat all the time, all your hair is gonna fall out and die" "ha ha kevin, you're gonna die"

-"since i was 14. and i'm 112"

-"big dumb"

-"what do you want to be when you grow up?" "dead"

-"my parents say: 'hey... whatcha doin' with that 24-pack?'"

-"did jeffery dahmer's mom love him?" "hope not"

-"ohh i love the smell of babies *sniff sniff*"

-"they can be found in places that are... places"

-"why are there rotting apples under here?" "no you gotta let those ferment"

-"what's something you lose by age 3?" "hope"

-the guy in front of me had marvel porn on his phone????????????? hentai hulk's bright red ass is permanently ingrained in my mind

-"what am i supposed to do to live 2 more years? wrap myself in bubble wrap and eat brussel sprouts?"

-"for every 10 pounds overweight you are, subtract 1." "-50"

-"you're wearing a flamingo shirt, you're no one's favorite"

-"you don't snort viagra"

-"how do you feel about having guns in our home?" "how do you feel about how quickly i'd use it to kill myself?"

-"hey, 2 seniors walking down the hallway! wanna give her your papers?" "outta my way. hey! get back here and gimme your papers, ya bums."

-"it's not just the genitals that transfer STDs" "left calf"

-"what if they got an STD some other way?" "drinking sprite"

-"...serial monogamy-" "cereal is for mornings"

-"...trading sex for-" "chicken nugget"

-"you wanna try sex wearing a hazmat suit, go ahead" "don't kinkshame me"

-"STI: spaghetti time infection. it's an epidemic"

-"g- ross"

-"AIDS didn't come from sex with a monkey" "it's definitely about sex with monkeys"

-"what kinds of drugs do i need if i have AIDS?" "nothing, you wanna die"

-"do you know what they do to get rid of genital warts?" "chop your dick off" "mix wart cream with water and drink it"

-oh no they found out what they do get rid of genital warts

-"they shove a q-tip in your penis" "iiiiii'd rather die"

-"is that what tinder is? swipe right if you want crabs?"

-"i would suggest not setting your genitals on fire"

- "your penis doesn't do tricks"

-"do you have a driver's license? *nod* "do you have a car?" *nod* "are you a big boy?" *unsure nod*

-"i know it's only the last day but i will make you suffer for every last minute" "then i'll just do what i always do *sleeps*"

-our resident alcoholic was washing the board and people were jokingly flirting with him so he tied his shirt into a bikini and continued washing so the teacher docked him points for it. don't worry he was already failing

#quotes #notes #class #american school #american schools #meme #wtf #out of context quotes #offensive humor #i wouldn't be surprised if our class is the one that causes our teacher to become an alcoholic

22 notes · View notes

ethereal-galaxies · 3 years

Text

@magical-lollipops

What? She wasn't going to- no. That's not... Yes, he was well aware he lost a mic to them. He was well aware that's why he was forced to do this. Dammit! He clenched his fists and then willed himself to relax. Oh? So Mad Posse was actually a good thing? Okay. His head hurt. It hurt so bad. Ramuda. That name. Was it his or someone else's? Stop, just stop! "I... was careless. It won't happen again. I'll make sure of it," he finally replied. After hearing Gentaro was at the door, he sighed. Honestly... "I'll deal with it."

He walked out of the room and looked the brunette in the eyes. He glared and bit into the lollipop, finishing it off rather quickly. He tossed the stick aside and spoke. "Listening in like that is a real big no-no! Yumenooo, you outta watch it! You're still proving loyalty here! If anyone else caught you, you'd be in real trouble! Then where would I be? My team would be short!"

'Anything he says to you is to get into your head. There is nothing that world outside can offer you.' Her words echoed in his head. That's right. He was being tricked.

All the doubt he had was baseless. Friends? He didn't need them. He started to laugh and drew close to the other, his expression dark. "I'm onto you now... Nothing you have to say to me will make me question things again. Enjoy what little bit of doubt you made me have. It won't happen again." He smirked and turned away, walking elsewhere. He knew where his allegiance lied now and he wouldn't waver again. Otome had done what he'd hoped she would and now he was fine. All those doubts, he'd locked away.

Gentaro had shifted backwards as the clone approached him, stepping back as he came closer. His full demeanor had returned, and from the open door, Otome watched them. Gentaro couldn’t even get another word in as the clone went off down the hall. This entire situation was definitely a mess. His own thoughts were right though, he can’t so quickly trust a sign of remorse with these clones, created and drilled with these ideas since birth. Birth, if that’s what you’d call it. Just because Ramuda had a breakthrough, doesn’t mean all of them would. He grit his teeth once his eyes met Otome’s.

Her expression toward him was neutral. Despite the trouble, she wasn’t worried about him wavering. After all, he had to protect Amemura, Arisugawa, and his own brother now. Whether or not he got along with the copy didn’t matter to her. She just needed to keep both of them in line.

Was she going to speak to him?

She was. She walked over to the open electronic door. “Take care not to try and fill their minds with your ideas. Friendships and bonds can only go so far. In the end those with power will wipe away everything you love, no matter what side you’re on. These battles, these people, they all fight for one thing: Control. It doesn’t matter how close a team is. One slip or give them a test of loyalty, and you see where that team really lies. Take a look at The Dirty Dawg. They had a strong bond, yet they didn’t trust each other enough to see what went wrong right in front of them. In the end, they focused on themselves. You might be playing sacrifice now, but tell me... are you really doing it for them? Or are you also confused about who you are? Is there something you’re selfishly trying to prove?”

The man still couldn’t speak. If he made a wrong move, she would have a number of guards at her side.

She tilted her head. “I find it interesting how much you persist. Why don’t you relax and focus on yourself too, hm? Your teammates have joined with Aohitsugi. They don’t need you for their Posse after all, do they? Sure, they’re going to work their way up here, try to get to you... risk their lives doing so. And what are they fighting for? They don’t even know who you really are.”

Otome reached into her pocket and took out a small wallet. “You want more freedom here? Fine,” she said as she took out a keycard. “Leave the city, go home. Go visit your brother. Come back afterward. We’ll give you a call if we need you for a mission, hm?”

“Why are you doing this...?” was all Gentaro managed to respond as he held the card in his hand. Was it some sort of test? Of course it was. Her eyes almost dared him to do it. If he went out there again, he might mess up again. He might have to battle them head-on again. He fought Samatoki already...

Having this card in-hand practically made everything worse. He held it back out to her. He couldn’t take it.

Otome only chuckled and shook her head. She put a finger up to the panel beside the door and the door slid shut between them.

---

Hopefully the doctor wasn’t too late. He had just finished battles with his own team and pulled up to the meeting place in his car. He stepped out, walking over to the area Samatoki had instructed. He didn’t involve his team with this much further. With the weight Doppo carried already especially, he wanted to at least have an idea what he was dealing with first.

There was no doubt some tension between the battling divisions, however Jakurai treated Samatoki as he was. An old friend. He approached the man who had stood there waiting for him. “Samatoki, you’re looking alright.”

#Muse: Gentaro Yumeno #Muse: Jakurai Jinguji #Muse: Otome #magical-lollipops #hypmic au: kizuna

0 notes

parley-o-4 · 6 years

Text

Prelude: Recognition/Conception

Where do I begin?

I guess where it all started would be a good place...its fall about August I'd say. And Im getting ready to go into my sophomore year in college and of course its the school fund shuffle trying to get my financial aid settled. However, this year for some reason its exceptionally hard to get my usual loan. Come to find out I would need a private loan this go round meaning I needed to find a way to cover nearly 5 Gs by the end of the year... So per usual I needed to defer my payment and figure it out later on that semester... something not foreign to myself or my parentals. But something foreign in the form of "New Policy" migrated its way into my life, this new piece of literature dictated new terms to my deferment requiring me to un-ass more than the standard amount of money...

"What the entire fuck?!? This is a lot more than last time what gives?"

I asked fightin my damndest not to look like an adorable chubby cheeked cat. To which the lady only responds, in an exasperated tone over her glasses, "Its just new policy, they are testing out."

"New policy my ass! When were yall gonna tell us this?" an angrier femaled version of myself exclaimed being accompanied by a towering shadow of null demeanor.

"I know, they tell us this the week before school and expect us to be familiar enough with it to be able to explain it all to parents like yourselves," the woman responds adjusting her glasses. "Im terribly sorry about all this. All you have to do is fill this paperwork out and I can log your deferment as usual and we'll wait till your student loan comes in. I hastily sign this paperwork and leave out to go deposit my fundage onto the cashier's office.

"Dont worry bout it son we'll figure this out like we always do," bellowed the towering man that was Daddy flashing that signature dimple to sooth my worries followed by a pat on my head...but those butterflies lingered still even after warm hug from my Mama and they had gone home back to Dallas it stuck in my head 'where are we gonna get this money?'

It rattled around in my head....

They are always figuring it out for me, its my turn to figure it out for myself. So day in and day out I thought of what I could possibly do to help as no private loan wanted to give me enough to cover it all...I just needed two maybe two and a half Gs to be squared away but how would I get it.

No job folit my schedule for class, I don't have enough stuff to sell to count...I thought I could sell drugs *jokingly at first...then it became a real suggestion* "Man hell no!" I couldn't sell that stuff I don't even know where to get any nor do I wanna get in that deep with it..."Plus who would I even get it from?!?!" I laughed to myself while unconsciously flipping through my mental rolodex of names. "Well there is...nah we werent really that cool to begin with but he did say he liked how my mind worked and offered me a little work," I shook my head as if to erase the thought like an etch-a-sketch.

It wouldn't be too hard for us... (fade into an echo from a seated shadowy figure in a hood)

I swear it was my voice but it couldn't have been...I had already erased it from my head. I shook my head and returned to the outside world.

A few weeks later...

The max I could get fell short about the two stacks I predicted.

"Damn it!!! What are we gonna do?"

That loan is still short...what else could I possibly do.

“We’ve already had this discussion remember?” the hooded voice whispered...”You’re just denying what you are already know to be truth...WE are good at just about anything.”

Bruh...I know I’m not tripping...maybe its just my mind tricking me but either way there is some truth to this suggestion. It wouldn’t hurt to ask for a little help.

*Takes out phone and dials number*

Hello?...yeah its me Jackson. Do you still have Tyriq’s number?...Yeah cool shoot it to me.....nigga stop being nosey I need to ask him something.....Thank ya.

*Hangs up*

Niggas....

*starts texting* {Yo wazup? It’s JT I need a huge favor...one that involves me taking you up on that offer you made once if its still on the table...}

Well he’ll probably never answer is what I thought as I continued my trek to the back of campus....Imma have to figure out how to get the rest of this....

*Phone chimes* {YO!!! JT!!! You damn well that offer stands man I meant it when I said I liked how your mind worked...your random thought in class paid off more than you know LOL but I can tell you more about that in person}

Oh shit...he answered!

*Texts back* {Oh damn lol I’m not even at in Dallas no more dawg I was just thinking bout the good ole days in coach’s class and shot you a text lol}

Shit I think I played that off good...that nigga not getting me caught up in his daddy’s shit.

*Phone chimes* { LMAO I’m dead ass serious bro I really can help if you need it but of course thats in exchange for your help....when the next time you town? We need to link up on some shit anyhow.}

FUCK!!! This nigga here...”Just go for it...whats the worst that can happen?” True True I thought to myself....AHHH what the hell.

*Starts texting* {Thats wazup but I wont be back till around Christmas}

*Phone Chimes* {Perfect! I got some things around that time I could use your brain on...hit me man}

Hmmm...You need that help....

*Starts texting* {Aight bro I’ll hit you up when I get in...but whats the things you got going?}

*Phone chimes* {I’ll tell you once I see you my nigga....}

What the hell is so secretive? Oh well we’ll see once I get home in a little over a month I guess....

That nigga aint bout shit tho....So I thought....

2 notes · View notes

nocancer · 4 years

Text

Why It Rains

~~~~ an excerpt from a working novel by Cancer moon. ~~~~~**

Lately I’ve been channeling from a higher source. And it’s not something I have to keep up with. It feels like, natural almost. Like im always at the same level of it, or at least very close. I’m not gonna lie, I was scared at first. Scared that I would fail. Scared that I wouldn’t live up to the expectations I set for myself while meditating. But so far things are looking up. I even got that new computer I wanted. Who knows, for now I’m just gonna keep writing and go from there. I’m not too concerned with the trivial things that life likes to bother us with, seemingly always at the worst times imaginable. I might check out this internet thing too. It’s promoted as this fun happy place and if I didn’t know any better, I’d of taken that for face value, right off the bat like a sucker. Next thing you know the internet turns out to be a cold and lonely place, and I’m left to wallow in my own self-pity, clutching my knees in the fetal position, mad at myself for failing to see the internet for what it is, a stupid marketing scheme. The point is, I have to see for myself. That’s just the type of person I am. You can ask my mom that. She’ll tell you. Ask her about the time I told the guy who was fixing my alternator to shove it when he was trying to charge me a thousand. Mind you, I had the money. But you’re not supposed to be dishonest to me just ‘cause I’m a millenial. The guy pretty much called me that. He said, hey kid, try to be more polite next time. But I never listened. I don’t need advice from a deadbeat greasemonkey. Anyway, apparently everyone’s connected to the cloud via sites like facebook and instagram. And when people log on to jump in on the action, usually the first thing they do is say hi to their friends, and maybe even drop a smile or two to show them they care. And if they drop a heart then you know they already had a chance to settle in, and are just trying to take it to the next level, now that the internet, in all its digital, impermanent page swiping glory, is owned, unabashedly theirs.

Conscious apples of languid rotundity creep along countless borders of a pale grey sky.

The pears are unwavering in the efforts of embassy, initiating calls backs when the time calls for it, and deceit when grape factions step in and intervene.

“What are these meddling affairs, young pear?” asked the grape.

“I don’t know. It’s the apples control our every move. How we live. Our daily lives.”

“Hush with that nonsense. You are nothing but a pear, a young one at that, how could you possibly know who’s behind it all?”

“I don’t know.”

The grape and the young pear sat on a brook and wondered who was behind it all.

-------

You see this all-seeing-eye mural in Atlanta? On the side of Ravine across the street from the federal reserve building? Yeah. I could strip down naked and run to the middle of that intersection there and scream my lungs out until i started coughing up blood and act violent to anyone who approached me and i still wouldnt match the frequency of that demonic shit. People walk by it everyday going to work, going to lunch, going to walk their dog, and nobody bats an eye. An eye for the government, an eye for the media, an eye for world hunger. Not a single raised eyebrow goes towards whats in control of every aspect of their daily lives. Oh the president controls my life. But I voted for him, so its okay. Is what they would say, as they munched on Mcdonalds with vaccines in their arms and got mad at traffic because they were going to miss their favorite show. A show that retroactively fed into a never ending problem and response feedback loop that activates the reptilian part of the brain by broadcasting images of rape and pedophilia via techniques that the producers learned at Harvard’s school of broadcasting, which also used a system of coercion, this time in the blind trust the students had for their professors just because they dressed nice and said big words. You’re going places. This kid’s gonna be a star.

-----

I’m only half of what I am without your other half to complete me. Only kids ask rhetorical questions. But why should I be any different?

I live by the way side. Wherever the wind takes me. I notice things that most don’t. I’m not sure if what I think is valid or not. I don’t believe anything is valid. Likewise I dont believe anything is invalid. One things for sure. If there’s one thing I know to be true. Is that I’m not an adult. No, Definitely not.

-----------

Hiksos lamented blast fully daring the credence of all his undoing. Unjust and bashful forwritten to layers upong layers of drug smitten landscapes.

“Youre good/” Said Jamie.

I see why she likes so much to hate on anyone she can get her hands on. And im not talking about physical hands. No, these are claws of misfortune. --The bad falls into a category still undefined by our human grasp.--

Apples on seminoles. Berries on amazing places we strove for.

The graveyard was pure and unassuming as a place for the dead should very well be. And with that we took our ritual to newer, more fulfilling levels. Levels of which determine our outlook as shades between optimistic and cautiously realistic. With our futures in the balance,

“Whatchu think dawg?” said Jerry. He was on his 2nd beer and 5th shot of vodka sprite. and I was on my mind long enough for nothing to be worth a damn. The vibe was dull, and the smoke gone. I lit a cigarette.

“I feel like shit.”

“You good?” J

“Yeah but I’m just tired like overall.” About life.

“Why not be happy about life? It’s all in your head. Just flip the switch. Like a light. On and off. Boom. No more stress.” J

“If only if it were that easy.”

“It is that easy. That’s the thing.”

Sipping heroically, going farther and phasing out all menial contrivances. Searching for myself like the lost land of atlantis. Humanity will get what it deserves.

“In due time” said Thomas.

I look at orion and wonder if those faint stars below its belt are actually indicative of a warrior kneeling on one knee with his shield raised or if its a flaccid penis that hangs all the way down to his knee. Im a pervert, always have been. Theres no stopping how much i will crash thoughtforms together in a heinous way until they stick together and form a common truth. I’m on the last life cycle of a cat’s 9 lives. Theres really nothing to lose by being a pervert. I had a friend in high school who said we’re all gay. I dont remember when. He said it more than once. I dont know if he was gay. I didnt think like that back then, but I wouldn’t to be anything other than who I am today. But again, there’s no stopping a mind so spiritual that it can hold each and every possibility at once and consider them valid. Then an external force canceling out my infinity. And I’m left to deal with people as if playing some sick little game thats suppose to teach me a lesson or something. So that I can ascend to the next plane of existence. At least thats what I’ve heard. But when the night hits and everyone finally shuts up for once it seems much simpler than that. Like im watching myself through a lens bestowed on me by a god with no intelligence. And during the day he becomes intelligent, and I’m left trying to keep up with, on his terms. “Fuck you bitch” I tell it often. “Youre not real” I’d say over and over. “What the fuck” is the saying that gives closure to it all. The only reason God looks good on paper is because it’s a testament to the author being strong enough to have it in his mind and make sense of it. It’s a mark people wear like aushwitz that make their beliefs somehow something you should pay attention to because I’m physical and God’s not but I speak of God so therefore God’s physical so you should listen to me. But then thatd make the speaker God.

By and by I’ve messed up hastily my dreams and aspirations. Tattooed on a building as ink drips down like an inner angst perceiving things as they are, and not what society says they should be. The happy medium an ephemeral code that could shift and shake into any causality one deems it to. The rulers of the world have taken domain over the one thing every human on earth has in common. I call this desire. They call it money. A body that begets greed and turns hatred to lust. Actions which motivate our inhibitions to phantasmagoria. Until we accept our place as lesser than the pettiness of our common folk. Shy and afraid, contingent upon basement dwelling lab rats who fane logic to reasonable bell curves while sucking nature dry of her own resources. The very nature that sunlight reflects upon his incessant rays which batter and tumble the distance. If only they knew she was her and he was them. But it doesn’t go like that here. Because if it did, then all karmas coming to a head would get their just due, and we’d be in purgatory. While heaven remained for the gods and earth for the mortals. And nothing can be God except authority to mortals when they’ve been tricked into accepting the state and thus have become it..

What a lovely home indeed. No one could bother me here. Except for the only one’s I knew. Because nobody knows I exist except for those who know me. I’d rather keep it that way. For a streak of doubt can enter me at any time and cause worry for my future. A future still so far away because I lack the initiative to care. Maybe that will change now that I have room to breathe. Just when I thought I was going downhill for good, my dad came around for me. And now I have a responsibility to get me up in the morning. No more waiting in line for luck to befall me in my yoga. The truth is, when reality caved in itself, and I could see the dying whispers in the eyes of those around me, I accepted my estrangement from the happy things in life. My avoidance of the dastardly grotesque was keeping me back this whole time. I like darkness and pitiful efforts of circumstance that vibrate low enough to stay hidden from others, but high enough so that it is detectable by my astral receiver. Two of which is an outward expression of another. The extension of material that is necessary for movement to take place. Before this realization I endured through pain of my own doing.

“How are you?” people would say.

And I never had a response.

Telepathic centrifuges would scan my mind. Taking flight off far off reaches of iniquity. All facets calling upon a microverse for an answer. I an I. Then they’d be gone without hesitation.

“Jerry’s calling” said Thomas.

“for what?” This guy wont leave me alone, I thought.

“I don’t know answer it.”

“Why are you bored?” I said.

“Yes, maybe he has weed.” Said Thomas.

“Ay whatsup man. Me and Thomas we’re just talking about you.”

“Oh word?”

“Yeah and then you call its like divine intervention or something?”

“Yeah thomas was tryna find some weed and you the first person he thought of so you must be doing something right.”

“Yo Thomas.”

“Oh hold up let me put you on speaker.” I said quickly.

“Is Thomas there? Yo Thomas.”

“Jerry, whats good?”

“I got the pack man, I heard you was lookin for a come up. I got the pack man.”

“Aight bet cus im bored as a motherfucka right now ya feel me?”

“It aint my fault.”

“Yo he do gotta big ass house tho I aint gone lie but like shit aint got nothin in it.”

“I just moved here a week ago.”

“So for a whole week- Yo is today Friday?”

“Yeah its Friday.” Who cares? I thought.

“So that’s last Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and now Friday, and you still aint got nothin in here but a fridge.”

“You aint even seen the whole house.”

“Nah you know you just in the middle of the carpet with no pillow no blankets or nothin.

And you wake up and go open the fridge and aint nothin in it. Then you go back to sleep.”

“Ay what he dream about?” Jerry said through the phone.

He aint dream about much ‘cept for one occurring dream. Of a fridge, but this time it’s a mini fridge. And its pink and he’s able to move it around, so he takes it up to his room and opens the freezer door just a little so it’s a little crack and he starts beatin it up till he has a wet dream and wakes up.”

“Alright you took it too far. It was kinda funny before but you killed it.”

“Wait, Where’s the fridge now? It’s not in the kitchen?” Jerry said.

“Bruh that’s the thing its just in the middle of the living room not even plugged in or nothin.”

“Jerry I know you so concerned about my god damn fridge but this time dude is lying over here.”

haha

“It’s in my kitchen like a normal person. Like I don’t know I guess you think this shit is funny or something but whatever come through and you can see for yourself.” Don’t talk to him he’s a loser was the attitude I was picking up. I thought they we’re beyond all that and capable of extraneous thought. Oh well, I guess I’m done with these idiots.

No more sitting around all day.

If I can see them for who I want, and not who they really are, it’d make no difference.

It’s a best of both worlds type situation. I just hate that I have to resort to this.

Its a sporadic and unpredictable endeavor that can detach you from life’s depiction. Seemingly framing a purpose in cosmetics among layer-caked mine field of mind clouds. I want to be a positive addition to those around me. And for them to be honest to me in return. Honest because everything around me is a nuisance. And dishonest It’s not necessary to have car insurance, police, governments. This realm is alive. 3 dimensions respective of splashes and 3rd parties. Because of this fact, I must be able to flow freely, grounded in freedom, estranged to control. Last summer when I jumped into the alleghany i felt freer than i have in a long ass time. Jerry asked me if he thought we’d still be here next year. I told him I didn’t want to think about it. That I was enjoying the moment.

“Man fuck that bitch.” T

“What? Who you callin’ a bitch?” J

“You know what I mean.” Thomas smacked his lips.

“I really don’t but whatever.” J

“Yo Jerry did you leave yet?”

“How far away is it? Not too bad right?”

“Nah it’s not too bad you’re like 30 minutes away. You’re in a nice area. Lots of rich people.” J

“Yeah I came up on it. It kinda just happened.”

“Whatchu mean it fell out of the sky?” Jerry asked.

“It’s been in my family for a while and I was lucky enough to be gifted it.” I said.

“That’s dope, you’ll get some good use out of it.”

“Yeah I’ma take advantage of what I got ya know? Make it so anyone can pull up as long as I fuck with them.” I said.

“Thats why I’m comin’ through.

Just say its the spot and I’m there.”

“For sure. But yo, if youre bringing your girl over then bring some pillows and blankets to sleep on cus I only got mine.”

“I need some too.” Thomas joined in.”

“We’ll stop then.” I said reluctantly.

“

“And where are we gonna chill? We can’t just sit on the floor.” Thomas took his eyes off the road.

“Alright, theres a home depot near the chinese place we’ll go their while we wait.” I said.

“Does Home Depot have blankets?” Thomas said like he was so concerned.

“No but they got that outdoor patio section for furniture and shit, So I don’t know we’ll find something.”

“They got mad carhartt jackets for the low low there. You should check them out.”

“Alright I’ll check them out.” The streetlights suspended time in space.

“Yo spicy egg rolls, add it to the list.” Jerry said finally.

“Sounds good.” Thomas replied. There was a pause.

“You headin’ out?” T

“Yeah. I am. Right now.” Jerry responded.

“A’ight I’ll see you when I see you.” T

I interrupted.

“I was gonna get spring rolls instead and we don’t want too many rolls so you want dumplings instead?” The thought popped into my head and I had to get it out.

“I dont really care either way” Jerry said.

“So yes on the dumplings? Pork, Chicken or beef?” I said.

“Dude I really dont give a fuck.”

“A’ight peace.”

“Wait actually get some extra spring rolls. I don’t want my breath to stink.” Jerry was a quick thinker.

“Okay. Peace.”

I ordered the chinese while Thomas turned the radio down.

It was 7:30 on a Friday. Traffic was still out and slow except on the highway. The plaza where Home Depot was sat on an indent so that a perimeter around us denied the sun a chance of bringing light to the inevitable darkness. Highway barricades exalted the east coast away from our position. I closed my eyes and listened to newly formed divinations stemming from a horizontal after-glow. What was AM was now PM. And just as I would prepare for a weekend of contract work, I too was going to do the same for the night. Because Friday was in the air, telling me I was the cause of it.

Thomas pulled into the lot and flicked his cigarette a stop-sign to an array of F150s and pug-faced express vans that sat high enough to deem his reliable, good on gas mileage, crusty seated hand-me-down first-car shit-box a worthy proponent of wu-wei. It was the type of car that doesn’t speak for anything or reflect an image onto its owner other than its being there.

At least this one had a little personality though, fashioned by who was behind the wheel, and the fact that I knew him through drive-ways of careless faces, drive-thrus, and drunken waffle house binges where we kept to ourselves and almost forgot it wouldn’t last. And even though the universe proved its worth to me, I cant help but feel theres in imbalance in my past.

That these were just moments. And days would go by. Blunts would get passed. Pets would die. We’d hope to not hear of our relatives dying, but that would happen to. Cause of death? Old age. It wouldn’t say that on the obituary. It was say something safe like stage 4 cancer or hodgekins lymphona. But everyone knows about the cap put on as at birth. That there’s a limit to how long we get to stay here. Sometimes we’d hear of our friends dying too. But those were rare cases. Few and far between. Unless of course you were the type of kid to attract that sort of stuff. Then you probably deserved it anyway. That pain. Irregardless of the pain it takes to die. You imagine how it must have felt in the body of your friend. Like they we’re on the otherside begging you to come with them. I’m free. They’d say. It only hurts a little. And unlike the old people, their obituary would read suicide. Basically an off-hand way of saying they needed jesus. Because in the end, nobody truly knows what would drive someone to do that to themselves. We can speculate all we want. They we’re bipolar. They wore funny clothes to school and we’re bullied as a result. But only someone with special access could consult them on that. To ask them why they denied life and chose death instead. Only someone who could be objective about the whole thing and not get caught up in their emotions could ask them this. In America that’s Jesus, God of funeral homes, shepherd of lost souls. The frustrating part, at least to me, is that all he can come up with is it was Satan’s fault. But that doesn’t do it for me. No. I need more than that. After all, Jesus, you faked your own death and ran away to the pyrynees. Did you not? You we’re too afraid to commit suicide. You half-assed your commitment. Maybe you knew what awaited you resembled a sleepless dream? Certainly you knew another part of you was fit for ascension. But then wouldn’t be the center of attention like you we’re on earth. You’d be around people who knew a light language and we’re just as smart as you, if not smarter. The applied principles of the sun was common knowledge there. That was like basic shit. Nobody was looking for preachers there. What they we’re looking for was way more advanced than your little yoga techniques. Stop hiding and tell us what’s really going on out here. Something tells me it has something to do with Satan, just not in the way you’re telling us. I have a feeling he holds the keys to a piece of knowledge we never even knew existed. If that’s the case, and I find out we’ve been duped, then I might just take it upon myself and offer you the same fate you offered my friend when he was down bad on that fateful Spring night mad at the world and pissed off at the hypocrisy you created for him. But this time when I get to you I’ll make sure you won’t be down bad. There will be nothing to numb the pain. No. You’re gonna feel this. Then things will come full circle. Order. I like when things happen that way.

“Yo I need paint. “

“ Paint?”

“I just remembered. For the walls.” I said in a descending volume.

We walked through the doors in the purgatory between store and street. I grabbed a cart.

“Is that what we’re gonna do for fun? Man I might regret this whole night if we end up hanging dry-wall and shit.”

“I hear you bro but we can play poker, I got a speaker so we can bump some music, and we’ll just kick it.”

Thomas strayed passed the check-out lines and almost ran into a stack of wood hanging from a guy’s trolley.

“Where are you going?” I said.

“Where’s the paint?” He said turning around.

We looked like we should be in the city rather than the hardware store. Everyone was looking and I know I’m not paranoid when I say that. We we’re foreigners visiting a small scale metropolis under construction. A place for bandits to face their acrophobia and not make it across to the next tower without getting grime on their gats ort hope they liked our style.

"They got krylons?" I said. The aisle opened up where the rafters stretched through the ceiling leaving ground level two by fours in their dust. If I focused I could hear an echo reverberate off my skull, taking its merry time and judging me before I could hold my breath. “We used to be so into this.” Thomas said.

“I don’t know why we stopped.” I said. He took it as a valid question.

“We got older I guess. Fuck.”

“Remember the overpass on Holcomb Bridge? I wonder if our shits still there.”

“We need to go back there.”

Gum soles in an unfinished basement. This was the most people I’ve ever seen. a’ve ever seen. The fire marshall could’ve came knocking any moment. Though I don’t think anybody would hear him. Lil Pump was 3 doors down. To the fire marshall, is that everyone was moving as one. To the fire marshal, this could be a good or bad thing in the lens of a fire marshall. Good because if someone started popping shots off with an uzi or something and everyone tried to run out the house through the basement side-door, the main one through the hall at the back by the bathroom, or if they went up stairs and found the wrong door and had to jump off the balcony or something, if shit really started to pop off like this, of shit really hit the fan, then it’d be good to have 1 body instead of a hundred. There we’re straddlers of course, but all they’d have to do is hide in its belly folds and hope to not get lost while the body was hauling ass down the street resorting to the dreaded question, “Can I get a ride?” And simply put it’d be bad because human flesh burns quite well when laced with alcohol. That was a risk we were willing to take and that brought us that much closer together.

When I came in with Katie I noticed the crystalline qualities of blonde hair captivated the vibe and were on display in the trim lining. When you looked across it was like some secret edition of the yearbook where everyone didn’t have to pretend they liked each other.

Only this time there were no profiles, only shadows. And instead of signatures there were tattoos on skin that said things like “im too good for you” and “the sky is watching.”

What collected at the corners were pushed outside to observe that ways a part equidistant to the cups on the table to the enthusiasm among them. This was inside. Everyone needed to make sense and not be meta. You couldn’t point out how we were all here by chance like Tommy did, “xxxxxxx” What an idiot. You couldn’t speculate as to why Rhea spent the whole month showing out for sympathy on twitter and crying at school over her breakup with Nick but is now falling on top of him, grabbing his arm and shit and Nick’s just going with it like he doesn’t care his best friend got sucked off by yours truly in front of everyone at last weeks party and he was there and she was there and it was all fine like nothing happened. “Well Nick got with Mercedes, and her and Rhea ignore each other now. It’s really awkward.” Despite the fakeness, there was an heir of trust unlike any ive ever seen here unlike back at school where we’d be leaning into our cheeks thinking about how to score more brownie points with the cliques we were in.

At least that’s what others were thinking about. The teacher’d be talking about solving for y for the millionth time, you know, moving things around by reverse operations to make sure they maintained the same relationship with one another. I never had to study because when it came time to test it’d be like the answers’d just come to me and I’d end up acing the damn thing. I became known as a smart person who didn’t care so everything canceled out and I was able to stay neutral and move between the punks to get drugs, the nerds to get power, and the popular kids to get access to parties like the one I was at now. I know this all sounds vain, but I guess that’s how it works when you’re a teenager still trying to find yourself when everyone else was doing the same but would rather die then admit it. Now that I look back I realize the whole thing was meaningless. There was no substance, no fulfillment. High School was mostly waiting with small pockets of being thrust into the limelight. Just a series of empty promises leading nowhere. You could of met your better half completely in the midst of knowing each other at a soul level but all indications were that it wouldn’t last so you made excuses and broke it off before it was too late so that your future could be at least bearable when you we’re laying in your cheeks mad at the world wondering why you were the only thing you could think about. You could rest your heart on your decision. The sex flashbacks at the most random times like talking to your grandma or waiting in line at the grocery store didn’t matter anymore. You could put it all on that. Your decision.

“Daniel, I’m so glad you could make it.”

“Likewise Sharlene, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Oh how sweet of you to say that to me.”

“Wait, why are you guys being so formal?” Katie said like she overheard.

“We should stop.” Sharlene said. Daniel was taller than all of them.

“How was your day?” His eyes got bigger. Crazy.

“Did you have a good day?” Leaning forward with his back against the counter.

“I did have a good day.” Sharlene said. “Did you?” She put her hand up and when she realized this she snapped them across her face and into his.

“Mr. Sassy?”

“Mr. Sassy!” Some dude in a hat with lettuce coming out said.

These we’re the types of exchanges that went on inside. Loud but cold. All in the vain of attention seeking like some sort of competition or test of brilliance. Only that this time unlike in normal society, where everyone’s trying to get their point across as clear and concise as possible because focus is king over style, this time brilliance was a stage of show. And whoever could hold onto it the longest was most certainly king or queen and surely the apple of their eye. Their being the cult that was the inside.

The 5 of us ended up by an air conditioning unit. We were staring at the moon thinking about what do next because we were already exhausted. Not because we weren’t faded enough. It was quite the opposite. There was too much judgment. And that was as bad of a high you could get when you were on the other end of it. We were over it. We were desperately passing a blunt I’d been eager to light since I rolled it in the car.

“I needed this.” Jerry said.

“Yeah? Me too.” I looked at Katie. She’s the one I rolled it with earlier in the day when 4 different people we’re blowing up my phone asking if I was coming and telling me who I could bring or not.

“I don’t know it’s just like the vibe or something. Like something’s off.” Tom said.

Katie was mostly quiet and sipping the blunt with her cute little hands and was gravitating towards Miranda in a nonverbal display of boredom.

“We don’t need to talk about it.” Jerry said.

“We really don’t.” I agreed.

“Talk about what?” I’m just saying.” Thomas said after a pause.

“Yeah I know but I’m not about to go behind their backs and gossip like we’re not fuckin’ with it thats cool we can do our own shit.”

“So what are we gonna do?”

“Is there anything close?”

“You tryna go to waffle house?”

Katie and Miranda laughed. First Katie snorted then Miranda bent over and held her knees.

“What are y’all tryna do?”

“Uhh can we just get out of here?” Katie said towards the street.

“Yeah. Let’s walk.” I said.

You left your memories with me.

So you could live without you.

You left your past in the dark, and

it was something you did for the hell of it because life

was too easy for you.

"What's wrong?" I said.

"Leave with me." You said.

"Is something bothering you?" I said.

"No." You were always in the dark.

"Where?"

"I don't know. Anywhere but here."

"I can't tell if you're being serious." You threw a rock

down the train tracks, and pointed where I was looking.

"That way's North to Chattanooga." You turned around.

I leaned to the side as if I was peeking down a narrow

hallway.

"South to Miami. Hmm. It depends." You said rubbing your chin.

"It depends on you finding a girlfriend so you can get back to reality is what it depends on." I said.

I dont think a single car

drove by since we got here. Moving trucks could be seen on the overpass where the crossing signals were, but were inaudible. The only thing audible was the large-scale kithen across the street which would hiss occasionally over its constant hum. It also had steam coming out of it. We walked towards the red-light on stones half the size of our trainers and went to balancing on the rail half to avoid twisting our ankles and half to ammuse ourselves.

"I was gonna say it depends on what's better, a good ol' country bitch who'll cook you catfish till you cant eat no more, or a bad spanish mommy who may or may not be there for you when you really need it."

"Oh, si senorita Hot like tamales. Muy bueno.

Como te amos rapido rapido mucho Miami me gusto."

"Bro we're hopping trains not borders

you fucking wetback."

"Whoa, hold up ese, you're hopping trains, not me.

Besides, we'll be hopping on a lot more than trains

if we keep this up." I said.

"Trains not borders, puto."

"Man watch your mouth."

"Here comes one now."

ijijiijjiiji

We hid in the bushes. It seemed like the right thing to do.

Me fist then the girls and Jerry while Thomas was last in..

"We should of put a coin on their,:

*End graveyard party and go into chapter about family* BONES laden arrows

----

Just say its the spot and I’m there.

“Jerry just texted me.” I said to Thomas.

“What’d he say?”

“He’s bringing Erica.”

“Why was it even a question?” Thomas said. He was flipping his head back and forth at me. Zig-zagging from hinges to nails to glue guns and floor tiles, biding his time, sulking like i was gonna feel sorry for him.

“I don’t know man. I’m sure it had something to do with his roommates not being out.” I said.

“Well if his initial reaction was him being scared then what that tell you about what he think of us?”

“Nah. You’re thinking too far into it. He’s tryna get her to let him hit.”

So much was out of context. There was disharmony. I continued.

“Maybe there’s something about two dudes without girlfriends that isn’t exactly the most potent

“

Smoke stacks comply and hesitate partaking in sport. Indulging in an aptitude that continues to see how it feels when you say such simple words as “hello, and, thats cool.” That continues to touch a nonverbal membrane when you move in such a way that broke the color barrier between black and white. So I’ll appreciate you like all the others do. Because I, completely and utterly, should know to carry you with me into infinity. And I should know, for a fact, that distance is dependant on its terminal velocity at the moment of impact. Gorgeous you are when tulips gather around cow pastures only to wither away upon the changing of the guard. Tip toes, necromancy, ice skates, all these make sense to me now, that ever since the day of my christening, good beings struck witherto my intelligence and rendered them useless. These knots, the qualities of which we’re twisted, utterly finagled to a degree that crystallized under pressure. I feel like I was born so I could come into people’s live when they needed someone to blame their problems on. That’s why I always get those stupid looks. Sometimes I just wanna ask them like “what the fuck are you on?” I guess all those diamonds couldnt teleport you out of here huh? Too bad. I ain’t judgin’.

knotted in purpose.

Oh how I looked on in brevity the callus threads that stretched for miles upon miles into causeways of blindness which overtook me in haste. Very painstaken I was in the trials before then. But now I see the reason for them. For nothing could have felt better than to be relieved of all that built up stress which churned and churned until a mechanism of ventricles let go in common translation. Like ruminating gats and dust swipers caged so discreetly so as to fixate on unto sizzling barge-heads. Almost as if silly esquires of desperately manifold doldrums exist solely to highlight the difference of deceit and merry. the difference of you, a you, and I, an I.

“Man I need blankets.” Thomas said.

“Pillows too.” I said tracing the outer perimeter of Home Depot.

Them Carharrts nice too. Our eyes met at the rack.

“I bet you could fit a gun inside this.” Thomas said feeling the durability of a canvas hoodie in brown.

“No I don’t have a gun.”

“You should get one.”

“They got em here?”

We fell out of the portal.

____________

Vicious bar flies and scarcities falsify the other-half.

“It is settled” said Chief Wallitzer

“Then buy more plankton from the Chief” A creature said. Decrepit. Monsteral. Lectivicious. The creature continued.

“And as soon as I stray a lochness is when the fortifications manifest wholly and without contempt.” I must ignore him.

“What am I to do?” I said on the levy.

“Take a boat from the garter over thine gully there.” Said the Chief.

And I summoned a boat from his power.

“I’m crossing.” I said under my breathe. I said aloud.

“Bless you Chief! Aye. May good fortune amass in your possession!” Because realization finally hit me, that I was to join my comrades in battle, once and for all.

“Aye, and to not flee as well.” This was the last I ever heard of the Chief.

--------

Today I’m going to buy a car.

Anxiety is a MK Ultra Mind Control Tactic (designed to keep humans subordinate to the matrix) ((which is ran by the 10%))

(((who answer to archonic entities from the 4th dimension)))

Logical reasoning is when an internal problem is identified as separate from the self so that it may not be subject to the whims of ego, which is fleeting and irregular, and stems from an evolutionary need for man to keep desiring more and more mates to reproduce offspring with so that his tribe grows strong in number as opposed to getting complacent with having one or few mates, retiring from the world, and letting him and/or his offspring die without a big enough tribe to defend them from bigger tribes with more man-power. Humans have advanced beyond the need to reproduce. In fact, Over-population is an existential threat to the continuation of humans on Earth. Because of this there should be no desire to reproduce. However, there is still a desire to reproduce. This is because the consequences of over-population like famine, disease, and global warming have yet to be internalized by most humans. Once it does, there will be no desire to reproduce, and all remaining sub-strata will go too. These remaining sub-strata include love, greed, and status all begotten from the main desire of humans, which is to reproduce. The reason that is

The main desire of humans is that humans want to survive. If humans didn’t want to survive they’d be dead. If humans we’re dead they wouldn’t be living. And if humans weren’t living they wouldn’t exist. Additionally, If humans didn’t exist they’d be nothing. And If humans were nothing they wouldn’t be something. Finally, if humans wouldn’t be something, as in, they we’re in a state of denial towards the very notion of being something

with the very notion of that word and all the associations it comes with,

Finally, if humans wouldn’t be something, as in, they we’re in a state of denial towards being something,

knowing full-well the associations it comes with, then humans would be refusing their ego, which is fleeting and irregular.

Once this desire (to reproduce) is gone, then allser forms of this desire like

and not get his needs are met

be processed in an objective manner, and not subject to whims of ego

solutions can be formulated in an objective context, and the solutions necessary to overcoming that problem, may not be weighed against emotion, which is fleeting and irregular.

and it’s existential

consequences, both good and bad, can be weighed objectively against

solutions that are based in reality

The distinction between needs and desires is a matter of time. Needs are immediate. Desires are built up over time.

The distinction between needs and desires is, in fact, only a matter of time

Anxiety needs to be alleviated when there’s not enough time, but it should anxiety will be alleviated because their is time. .

^^^^^^^^^cap*********

*********************

Anxiety is when an internal problem needs to be alleviated. Its just that the actions required to alleviate said problem seem far off and distant. So much that you begin doubting your abilities as a measly human and turn to a god instead. When this god doesnt fix your problems your anxiety is compounded heavily. Because you have one more problem than you started with. If you couldnt hold a candle to your first problem, being as their solutions were so far out and demanded too much in a short amount of time, then now you got a doozy on your hands. All we can ask for is perfection, and hope we come up short.

********************

************

//All God can ask for is perfection. That’s why he doesn’t relate to us.// If you had a bag that led to another bag you wouldn’t keep the first bag cus it’d already be in the second one. These are the ancestors working behind the scenes.

then what makes you think

Our teachers taught us proper sentence structure in the third grade. A subject followed by a predicate. The subject is invoked and the predicate carries the burden like a hag witch carries it and thus justifying the subject so that it is not floating in space, susceptible to being bothered by minds whose job it is to question things that float in space for no other reason other than to not have a purpose, and stand as a monument against all these grammar nazis stand for. So viciously chaotic, free in its lightness, completely unencumbered by menial contrivances of formality, it seems, are these subjects without predicates stand unapologetically in the vast concourses of space as monuments against all they stand for. The problem is that words can only do so much when describing a subject. Whether it is a noun or pronoun, abstract or not, a person, place, thing, or idea, it could even be an interjection, the problem is words can only do so much for describing the essence of a thing, the unseen force which discerns certain vibrations as unalike from one another and neatly packages them into a frequency at which the brain can perceive.

certain things as unalike from one another and neatly packages them into a frequency that vibrates at a rate at which the human brain can process through its hypothalamus and perceive them as things in the 3rd dimension.

apart from the rest is limitless when not bound by words, which can only be deduced as a lesser form of magic.

Thomas and I see the same things. Ever since our childhoods we were never separated. And even if we we’re, or it appeared as if we we’re, we always had the same eyes. Not just the same view, but the same eyes. I don’t mean that these eyes were like detachable lenses, that could be passed around to and fro like a can on a string, I mean that we’ve had the same experiences, just in different forms. And if we ever shared a difference of opinion, which happened a lot, like with this Erica thing, I never had to worry about things getting heated. Because no matter what, I could always fall back on us letting things calm down for a while, alone in our rooms leaning into our cheeks trying not to think about it. until both of us realized we were coming.from the same place, and that where, and to what degree we took it to, was ultimately meaningless.

I must be going now. It’s getting late. What time is it? 2:30? Jesus. Fuck. That’s later than I thought. Already? Oh well. It’s not like I can do anything about it. Anyway. What I wanna talk about is how fucked up you look to me, and I don’t know if you see that. I mean, if you can see what I see. Dread, angst, all of mine and your miseries seem to have burdened you. I want you to know that I’m here. I’m a man. I can fix my own problems. Really. I can. I may not look it but I’m grown. You don’t have to worry about them. Here, look at this picture I took last year. It’s of you and me. Don’t we look so happy? Happy. Is that the right word? Or maybe we’re crumbing for our last breathe of smile in us. Fuck. I’m beginning to think that’s true the more and more I think about it. Because you we’re never happy. Neither was I. But that wasn’t the goal for us like it is for so many others. No. We just wanted to get by. And that’s all we could ever ask for.

--jgcjgcjgcjgcgjc

I wanted to keep this sacred so it’d come across a more genuine when the right person came across it. but now the urge is too strong and the resonance too concentrated for me to dismiss the trailblazing force of circular momentum. And its nice out too. The grass is still damp from yesterday’s rain but not so you couldn’t lie in it. That’s what I did today. That along with thinking. Moving on. I won’t talk about personal experience in this article. The truth is I’m not important. What matters is my guidance. So from now on take my “I’s” as placeholders for something greater. Make it what you want. A parakeet, a landing pad, veganism, law and order, anything. It could even be the universe itself with you and me included. Whatever it is just don’t miss the point that follows this inconspicuous “i” because there is no truth, only different paths to getting there.

The truth is I haven’t been out the house in a few years. Sure there were gaps in between like parties here and there. But even then I was inside myself, leaving people to wonder if I was as social as I looked. Sometimes I was normal, others I was a wallflower. Only rarely did I meet their expectations and become the center of attention. I still remember those moments because I’m preparing for the next time it happens so I can maintain a sense of self better so that I can let it go and channel what comes out of me more freely. Some call this going into the world. I call it getting out the house. Leaving the nest. All those times i was still at home within myself. I never left my shell. There’s no point when that shell is filled with angels.

Language can be tricky. It can be used for yin and yang. It can be used for contuation or stagnation when concerning the path of self and how one wants to judge said self through language so that it may have something ethereal to manifest from. Before I continue I must say that there is a self because any indication of there not being a self relies on the suppusition there there is a self. Perception plays a role too, as in, agreeing or not to accept the definitions of the words you lay on yourself as true or not. The pessimist sees the world as signs and symbols and interprets stimuli af a higher level then the optimist, who is often naieve to the hidden world where everything comes from. This is why pessimists are often dualists. To the optimist it appears they are one-sided because they take them at face-value. Again, they are unable to see the hidden world where everything comes from. Those who fly under the radar appear that way because they are in direct contact with this world so as to filter their thoughts before speaking them. This world is a place pessimists visit often within themselves and rarely show out of. They show out only in dire situations, and that makes their actions that much stronger because they have kept sacred the hidden world where everything comes from so that it is pure and cutting-edge when it comes time to release it upon the known world. Like an endless stream does their wrath come out of them because they’ve been holding it in so long.

Anytime you insert the I into a situation is when a princible of measurement can be applied to you as infinite potential to fail or succeed relative to the third party as the perfect amount of what you needed to be faced with.

with chakra wheels that exist so we can find ourselves in a better light.

0 notes