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#last few months sucked the joy outta things
kiyoo-omi · 3 years
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sorry if this is unwelcome but i feel the exact same about graduating uni this year. i know it's an accomplishment and i should be proud but then i took my grad portraits out of obligation (for copies to send to family) and will most likely sleep in instead of attending my ceremony (it's a livestream so whatever). compared to graduating high school, this feels so muted and tired even though it's arguably a greater achievement. i think a lot of people feel this way this year so i hope you don't feel too bad about it. it's just the way things are for us i guess. best of luck with whatever comes next for you ♥️
thank you for sharing this with me anon! relieved I’m not the only one feeling it—like I really wanted to be happy and proud for this achievement in my life—but in the end im not, and ended up not really caring for it T.T
I hope good things come your way anon 💞
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lady-writes20 · 3 years
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Supermarket Flowers
Pairing:: Tig Trager x Reader Warnings:: Dirty talk, Language Word count:: 1,119 Gif not mine, credit to the owner
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Tig and I went over to the supermarket to pick up a few things that I had run out of. I loved running errands with him, made us feel like a real couple instead of...whatever we were. I guess we could've been called 'friends with benefits' but we both wanted more. It was just a waiting game on who would tell the other first.
Riding on the back of his bike, I rested my chin on his shoulder, looking out at the road. As he rode, I turned my head a little. Looking in the corner of his eye, he asked, "What?" chuckling.
"Nothing," I smiled, nuzzling my face into the side of his neck. Leaving a trail of kisses on his neck and shoulder, I said over the engine, "We have to go to the bank after."
"For what?" he asked, turning into the parking lot. As he backed into a spot, I began uncoiling my arms from around him.
I laughed, "For a bank thing." I stood up from the bike, swinging my leg over the back as I unclipped the helmet. He took it from me as he got off. "Besides, you'll get a lollipop out of the deal."
Tig laughed, taking his sunglasses off. He reached over, smoothing out my hair that was messed up from the helmet. "I should get somethin' else outta this deal of yours," he said, grabbing the back of my neck and pulling me into him.
"Like what?" I laughed against his lips as he kissed me.
Leaning down to my ear, he whispered, "It's like eatin' a lollipop." I laughed, smacking his arm. "You owe me after last night, doll. Think I pulled a muscle in my neck from you." He rubbed the back of his neck.
"You did not," I scoffed. "You're so fucking dramatic." We walked into the store and he pushed the cart through the aisles as I loaded the few things we needed.
"You think all this is gonna fit in the saddlebags?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
I nodded, "Yes, I do." Leaning close to him, I smirked, "And with your help, we can make it work. You know how to make things...fit." I flicked my tongue against my teeth at the last word.
He smiled smugly and pushed me against the end cap. "You better watch yourself, doll. Not much is stopping me from fucking you right here to show you how I can make something fit into a real tight space." I giggled, pushing him back. There was only so much dirty talk I could in public. My hands didn't move him though like they normally did. He stood his ground, trapping me. "You're not gettin' out of this, sweetheart."
"Not here, Tig, knock it off," I chuckled.
He leaned down closer to me and whispered, "Gotta try harder than that." I scowled up at him, dramatically blinking and rolling my eyes up to his.
Someone was walking down the aisle and I saw it was my uncle. Joys of a small town; bumping into family everywhere. The family that didn't know I was involved with SAMCRO. "Everything okay, Y/N?" he asked.
"None of your business," Tig scoffed, thinking he was someone else. "Get lost." He turned back to me, leaning down closer to my face.
"I wasn't talking to you," my Uncle Jack snapped, staring Tig down. "I'm asking her."
I nodded, "I'm fine," turning towards him.
He dropped his basket and pointed to my neck. "He do that to you?" he asked. I forgot the cover the massive bruises on my neck from Tig getting a little rough the night before.
"It's not your concern," Tig scoffed, pushing off the end cap and turning to my uncle.
"Tig..." I started, but he put his hand up to stop me. "Jesus Christ," I huffed. "Uncle Jack, this is my...boyfriend, Tig." He turned towards me, confused about my uncle.
Uncle Jack asked, "Boyfriend? You're dating a Son?" He took a step closer, putting Tig more on the defense for some reason. "He hit you?"
"No," I shook my head. "No, he doesn't."
"That's not what that looks like, Y/N," he sighed.
Tig muttered, "I'll show you who I'm gonna fuckin' hit," under his breath, but my uncle still heard him.
"You don't know who I am," Uncle Jack smiled. "I'm a retired cop with a lotta pull at the station even though the chief was bought by you. One call and your ass is in jail."
I sighed, "You can't arrest my boyfriend, Uncle Jack. He didn't do anything wrong."
"Yet," Tig growled.
"Knock it off," I groaned, looking up at him. "Go home."
He scoffed, "What?"
Tig couldn't make anything easy for me. "Tig, go home. Please. Save me the hassle of bailing you out of jail." He sucked his teeth and headed to the door. I saw him get on his bike and drive off out of the corner of my eye. "Sorry you had to meet him like that. He really is a good guy."
"Little old for you, don't you think?" Uncle Jack asked, picking up his basket. "Outlaw too. The Trager was always on our radar."
I shook my head in disbelief. "I should...I should get going. Got other places to go." He grabbed my arm, spinning me towards him. "What're you doing?"
"He does anything to you...I will end him, understand?" I nodded, knowing his threat was real.
I walked the short distance home, ready to try to neutralize the bomb of Tig that was stewing around the living room. When I opened the door, he walked over, taking the bags from my hands.
As he set the bags on the counter, he sighed, "I'm sorry." I stepped closer to him, dropping my keys in the bowl, and placing my hand on his back. "I should've acted better."
"You should have," I chuckled. He looked down at me, not amused about it. I tilted my head, reaching up and playing with his curly mane. "Thanks for not pushing it any farther though."
"Of course," he smiled, leaning down to kiss my forehead. "I am your boyfriend after all."
I smirked and sighed, "What was I supposed to say? 'This is the guy I've been fucking for the past month and a half.' No, you are my honorary boyfriend."
"I'll be your boyfriend if you be my girlfriend," he laughed.
Looking up at him, I smiled, "Really?"
He nodded, "On one condition."
"What's that?" I asked, wrapping my arms around his midsection.
He grabbed the back of my neck and kissed me, deeply, then whispered gutturally in my ear, "Only if you lick my lollipop."
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fallen029 · 4 years
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So Soon
She was doing her makeup.
Early that morning.
She was standing in Laxus Dreyar's bathroom, leaning over the sink as she did her makeup while the man himself strode into the bathroom, mostly unconcerned with her presence it seemed as, slipping passed her, he only had one thing to grumble at her.
"Didn't fuckin' use all the hot water, did you?" he questioned gruffly. "Demon?"
And she only hummed in reply, not a true answer, but enough of one it seemed as he only took to muttering under his breath as, after turning the faucet for the shower, he began to strip down.
It was all so casual.
Perhaps too casual.
Mirajane wasn't certain when it got like that. It felt rather sudden as she considered it that day, watching the man in the mirror as he stood there for a moment, nude, and shivering before he stepped into the shower stall. When he felt her eyes, he glanced over his shoulder with his typical void gaze.
"Can never be too clean," he remarked to the woman with a raising of one eyebrow. "If you wanted to slide right back outta those clothes-"
"I have to get to the guildhall," she told him with a shake of her head and a refocusing back onto her own reflection. "I'm already late."
"Late." He snorted as he moved to step into the stall. Speaking louder now, as his voice was deadened by the falling water, he remarked, "Sun ain't even up yet."
"It will be in ten minutes," she assured him, "and by then I need to have the doors open and get started on breakfast prep."
"Why?"
He was like a toddler at times, rather than a grown man, purposely acting aloof. Mirajane would love to be annoyed by this, but if anything, it was more personality infringement on his part because, well, it wasn't like she didn't do her fair share of it.
"Because," she practically sang as, standing back, she looked over her reflection carefully, "it's my job, dragon."
"What do you think's gonna happen, huh?" he griped. "Old geezer ain't ever gonna fire you. None of those peons at the hall are going to complain at you."
"It's still," she insisted, "my job."
"So breakfast is late," he kept up. "What's the worst that happens then?"
"Uh, people who are counting on me to feed them are let down," she reminded. "And put behind schedule."
"Fuck their schedules. Fuck them."
"Why do you have such a foul mouth so early?"
"Because I want ya to get in the fuckin' shower with me."
"It's not good, Lax," she called over the falling water, "to get worked up over things that were never going to happen in the first place?"
"Do what?" he questioned, as if he suddenly couldn't make out her words, and maybe he couldn't, but Mirajane didn't find she much wanted to play into him any longer. Or, even if she did, that she was officially out of time to do so.
Though she might not have crossed the wrought iron gates at the exact moment she ascribed to, Mirajane was at the hall in plenty of that day to begin her daily tasks. There were floors and dishes to be scrubbed, mugs and silverware to be polished, bacon to be fried and eggs to be scrambled, as well as some meat to roast for the dinner crowd that evening. The pool area needed new towels and the bath house needed a to be mopped. There were new jobs to tack up and plenty of drinks to be served, as well as idle conversations to begin and the Master to contend with.
Her day was packed.
It always was.
But her mind seemed out of sorts that day and as she struggled through beginning each of those tasks with strong intent on following through with them, but she was hardly to noon when she noted her sister stroll in with the Salamander and Happy, all three laughing over something and no doubt hoping to have something stiff to drink and warm to eat, but instead, Mirajane gifted them only with concern.
"Sick?" Lisanna questioned as her joy was sucked right out of her. "But you never get sick."
"Stay away from me," Natsu told her as he tossed the fabric of his shirt up over his nose. "I can't get sick right now. Not with S-Class right around the corner."
"What's wrong, Mira?" Happy questioned as he fluttered by in concern, but did toss his furry paws over his own face, not hoping to catch any of her germs. "Do you have a fever?"
"No," she was quick to say, not one prone to lies, but also fearful of being caught in one. "I just, well… I feel...unwell. Just unwell."
"Pregnant unwell?" Happy asked hopefully and Natsu made a face at the implication from beneath makeshift mask while Lisanna only eyed her sister carefully.
"N-No," Mirajane insisted with a frown. But then, as the Exceed seemed to flutter more with excitement, she tilted her own head in thought. "Well-"
"Mira, if you're sick," her sister interrupted their pipe dreaming, "then you should go home. Here, I'll take over for you, okay?"
"Well," she sighed as she moved then to begin untying her apron. "If you think so."
"I," Lisanna kept up, "insist."
"Okay." Mira even braved (or at least had trouble containing) a smile. "Well, you're going to need to go into Master's office in about half an hour and give him his afternoon medicine."
"Alright."
"And run the bar."
"Of course."
"And check the meat that is roasting as well as get the dishes from the breakfast rush at least somewhat taken care of and, oh, Kinana isn't scheduled to come in for another three hours, and you still have to get the rest of the jobs cycled out on the board, mop the bath house, start the laundry from both it and the pool, and-"
"And," Happy took over, "I need a fish."
"And get happy a fish," Mirajane finished with a confident nod.
It wasn't quite what Lisanna had written all over her face, but she nodded anyways and Mirajane felt awful, truly she did, but as she left the hall that day, feigning fatigue and a slight bit of nausea, the woman actually had never been better.
"What are you doing here?" was the greeting from her boyfriend when, after politely knocking at the man's door (though they'd exchanged keys, she always sought to respect his boundaries...mostly; at least the ones she'd like returned back to her), it was opened to reveal a dressed slayer with just the hint of a snarl still placed on his face. He hadn't been expecting her, or anyone no doubt, and was not pleased that his personal time was potentially being disturbed. "Is everything okay? Forget something?"
"I'm," she told him simply, "sick."
"Then why the hell did you come here?"
His tone was annoyed and, much like his counterpart, he moved to bury his nose and mouth beneath the neckline of his shirt, but unlike the steps backwards Natsu had taken, Laxus was moving to drag the barmaid into his apartment. She giggled, somewhat amused by his actions, but allowing herself to be tugged along.
"Not really, dragon," she assured the grumbling man as he shut the apartment door behind her. "It's just what I told them."
"Told who?" he questioned as his nose came peeking back out from beneath his t-shirt.
"Lisanna and Happy. And Natsu." Then she tilted her head back and tapped a finger against her chin. "Well, I'm not sure they thought I was sick, rightly, but pregnant, at least."
"Yeah well- Pregnant?" Laxus did take his steps backwards from her then, nearly falling over a pair of boots he kept by the door. "Are you serious woman?"
"No," she told him honestly. "Dragon. I hardly ever am. You know that."
They had a moment then, between the two of them, where he only stared incrediously at his girlfriend and she smiled warmly up at him, watching his chest jump as he tried to regulate his breathing once more.
"So," he began slowly, "you're not pregnant."
"Not that I know of. And I'm rather in tune with myself."
"And," he kept up, "you're not sick."
"Again, not that I know of."
"Then...why are you here? Mira? During the workday?"
It was her turn to be at least somewhat bashful as, though Mirajane was a naturally rather open person, it was hard at times for her, with men she was so heavily interested in. Especially when it was a draining a love interest as Laxus had been for her as of late. It had felt so whirlwind, only months before, when the pair started to infrequently see one another, but the last few weeks had been quite serious and exclusivity had been tossed around, even, to the seeming acceptance of both parties and…
And…
"I just wanted to be with you. For longer. Laxus." She felt her cheeks heat up in a way they typically didn't. "If that's okay. I mean, if you're busy-"
"I just had to get up early and go to the market," he informed her plainly. "Then this evening I have tentative plans to meet up with Bickslow and Freed for drinks, but-"
"O-Oh, well-"
'If my woman's sick though," he cut her off rather definitively, "then0"
"You don't have to-"
"I'll hang out with them tomorrow night." He closed the gap between them then, not truly smiling, but certainly not looking as glum as he usually did. "I'll run out, tell them something came up, snag us some takeout for dinner-"
"Think you're up for me staying the night again?" she questioned as her hands pressed firmly against his chest and Laxus only loomed over her, his grin more noticeable as she stared up into it.
"Of course," he agreed softly, reaching out with one hand gently run a thumb over her warm, rosy cheek. As she giggled, he added, "But I dunno if you should."
"Why not?"
"I mean," Laxus reminded, "it is, apparently, so hard for you to leave me."
"So hard."
"And I don't want you to skip out on work again tomorrow, just for my sake."
"Of course not."
"So-"
"So," she reasoned, "I guess tomorrow when you get up to hop in the shower, it's going to be with the intention of joining me down at the hall, right?"
"What?"
"Bright and early?"
"Demon-"
"If you get up early enough," she enticed, "I might even let you join mine, dragon."
There was a glint in his eyes then as, leaning down, he rested his forehead against hers and furthered the stakes, "We get up early enough, that nice big bath house up at the guild will be all empty."
"That's true," Mira agreed. "I'll have the women's side all to myself and you'll have the men's-"
"Demon-"
"I just didn't expect to like you this much," she admitted to him softly and, as the blush returned, she had to fall forwards some, so that she could hide her words into his chest. "Laxus. So soon. But I really do."
He took a moment, the slayer did, shocked a bit, maybe, before laughing some as he bowed his head even more and wrapped his arms tightly around the woman.
"Yeah, well," he whispered, "I guess I must be something, you skipping out on your precious guildhall for me."
"Just this once," she promised and she meant it as she finally broke away from him some. A smile returning to her lips, she said, "So I guess we better use this day to our advantage, huh?"
"Yeah." Laxus hand came up again, just to brush a fingertip or two across her soft pale skin. "I guess we better."
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thekadster · 3 years
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santa fe (prologue) (a newsies songfic)
Fandom: Newsies (All Media Types)
Word Count: 1,975
Trigger Warnings: None!
❝He yelped as his foot slipped off the ladder, one of his hands luckily grabbing hold of a metal rail. Jack quickly rushed to him and pulled up his arms. “You wanna bust your other leg too?!”
“No, I wanna go down!” cried Crutchie.
“You’ll be down there soon enough! Take a moment!” replied Jack. “Drink in my “penthouse”, high above the stinkin’ streets of New York.”❞
also read it on ao3!
Crutchie didn’t know what time it was when he woke up. Was it two, three, four in the morning? He didn't know, and it didn't matter. Even if the sky was definitely still dark, he stood up from his blanket, shaking away the heavy weight of sleep. He put on his vest and his cap.
“Hey- where you goin’?” a voice softly called. “The mornin’ bell ain’t rung yet; go back to sleep.”
Crutchie looked down and found familiar eyes sleepily squinting up at him. “I wanna beat the other fellas to the street,” he replied, straightening his collar. He glanced at his crutch that stood in the corner. “I don’t want anyone should see I, uh, ain’t been walkin’ so good.”
“Oh, quit gripin’,” the voice groaned, gathering a few papers scattered around the floor. “You know how many fellas fake a limp for sympathy, right? That bum leg a’ yours is a goldmine.”
Crutchie sat down at the entrance of the fire escape, legs dangling off the edge. “Well, if someone gets the idea I can’t make it on my own, they’ll lock me up in the Refuge, for good,” he said. “Be a pal, Jack; help me down-”
He yelped as his foot slipped off the ladder, one of his hands luckily grabbing hold of a metal rail. Jack quickly rushed to him and pulled up his arms. “You wanna bust your other leg too?!”
“No, I wanna go down!” cried Crutchie.
“You’ll be down there soon enough! Take a moment!” replied Jack. “Drink in my “penthouse”, high above the stinkin’ streets of New York.”
Crutchie chuckled as he stood up. “You’re crazy.”
“What, ‘cause I like a breath a’ fresh air? ‘Cause I like seein’ the sky and the stars?”
“You’re seein’ stars, alright.”
Jack leaned on the railing and looked out into the early-morning city. There were hundreds of buildings, probably thousands, if he counted. It was a magnificent skyline he knew well, and yet it was one that he was getting rather tired of.
“Them streets down there sucked the life outta my old man,” he sighed. “Years of rotten jobs, stomped on by bosses…And when they finally broke him, they tossed him to the curb just like yesterday’s paper. But’cha know what? They ain’t doin’ that to me.”
Crutchie paused, watching his best friend’s downcast eyes. Jack never talked much about his folks, and when he did, it was only between the two of them. “And yet everyone wants to come here.”
“New York’s fine for those who got a big, strong door to lock it out,” he responded, shaking his head. “But I tell ya, Crutchie - there’s a whole other way out there, somewhere that ain’t like this.”
His eyes were distant for a brief moment. “Y’know, my old man always wanted to go to Santa Fe."
“Your dad?” asked Crutchie.
Jack nodded. “He wanted to take us there, me and my Ma; wanted us to start new out west.”
“You been there before?”
“Nah,” replied Jack. “He probably heard about it in the papes or somethin’, but he always said it was real sweet.”
He pulled out a folded postcard from his pocket. The edges were slightly worn away with time, but the picture in the middle was still clear. Crutchie leaned over his shoulder to get a better look at it, but Jack quickly pulled it away.
“Close your eyes,” he said.
Crutchie gave him a look. “What?”
Jack repeated the phrase. “Why?” Crutchie tried snatching the postcard from his hands, but Jack already shoved it into his pocket.
“Just do it!”
“Why?”
“I want you to see it,” replied Jack.
“Then gimme the postcard!” exclaimed Crutchie.
“It’s just a piece a’ paper!” he explained. “I wantcha to see it. Really see it.”
Crutchie stared at him strangely. He still didn’t understand what the other boy meant, but he figured that the conversation wasn’t going to get any further if he didn’t comply. He rolled his eyes and smirked. “Fine, fine.”
“No peekin’,” Jack added.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say.”
When Crutchie didn’t flinch when Jack waved a hand in front of his face, he knew that his eyes were shut tight. Jack put a hand on his shoulder.
“Okay so,” he began. “Imagine a place, somewhere that ain’t like New York. Imagine a city made of clay, but there ain’t no tall buildings like what we got. A place that’s clean and green and pretty, where there’s clean air and deserts and mountains. At night, you can see the stars, but it ain’t just a handful; there’s thousands of ‘em! Thousands! You don’t even have’ta go up high; you just walk out into town, and there they are.”
A smile began to creep on Crutchie’s face. Jack carried on.
“Nobody’s out hawkin’ papes,” continued Jack. “You can see people plantin’ crops, splittin’ rails, even swappin’ tales around a fire. Oh, ‘cept for Sunday, ‘cause nobody’s up workin’.”
“Nobody?” asked Crutchie. “Nobody works on Sundays?”
“Yeah!”
“Then what do ya do if you ain’t workin’?”
Jack paused. “Nothin’,” he said.
Crutchie raised his eyebrows. “Nothin’?”
“Yeah,” replied Jack, grinning. “You just lie around all day, I guess. Do whatever ya want.”
Crutchie’s smile began to grow. “And?”
“Oh, and the folks there are real great, too,” Jack added. “As soon as ya get there, everybody’s smilin’ and happy. It don’t matter who you are or where you came from; they’re gonna take you in like you’s one of them. Soon, your friends are more like family, and they’s gonna be beggin’ you to stay.”
They took a moment, drinking in visions of a place that was so different from where they were. For them, it sounded like a dream, like something straight out of a storybook. But as Jack spoke, his wonderful words soared on the chill breeze that rushed by. It was almost like Crutchie could walk through a door in his mind and step into that sunny desert town. It was almost like he was there.
Crutchie opened his eyes, noticing Jack’s long silence. His gaze was fixed somewhere far beyond the inky horizon. Amidst the silence that stretched between them, Crutchie could feel the deep, far-off longing that filled his best friend’s eyes, the aching for something greater than the life that he led. It was something that he rarely saw from him, let alone from anyone he’d ever met, but that didn’t make it any less real.
“You got folks there?” he asked, finding his voice.
“Pssh, ain’t got no folks nowhere,” answered Jack, pulled from his trance. “You?”
Crutchie stopped, then turned to the other boy. “I don’t need folks,” he said, gently punching his shoulder. “I got friends.”
Jack felt a warm smile creep on his face and a warmer feeling form in his chest. He turned to look at Crutchie. “Hey, how’s about you come with me? No one cares about no gimp leg in Santa Fe! You just hop a palomino, you’re ridin’ in style!” he excitedly spoke.
Crutchie giggled as Jack playfully galloped like a horse. “Pfff, yeah - feature me, ridin’ in style,” he remarked, rolling his eyes.
“Hey, I bet a few months of clean air, and you could toss that crutch for good!”
Crutchie’s face lit up at those words, words he never thought he’d ever hear. “Really?”
“Really, kid!” Jack exclaimed.
The grin on Jack’s face was almost enough to make Crutchie forget that he couldn’t walk on his own two feet. He exhaled, half-laughing in disbelief. “Imagine that…”
Those words, that promise - it echoed in Crutchie’s head for miles. He wasn’t sure if such a thing was possible, but the way Jack spoke about it was more than enough to prove that it was. Never had he smiled so wide when talking about anything else. Never had he talked about anything else with such joy, with such passion, with such hope.
Crutchie knew that people had dreams. Every single man, woman, and child on the street had them. But dreams don’t always come true, he realized. No matter how many pennies you’d throw into a well, no matter how many shooting stars you’d wish upon; no matter how optimistic Crutchie had always hoped to be, he knew that some things just aren’t meant to happen.
Jack looked at him, who leaned forward on the rails. There was no discernable emotion on his face and his eyes now had grown distant. “You okay, Crutch?” he whispered.
The other boy hummed in response, though it sounded like his mind was elsewhere. Jack followed his gaze, ending up at one tiny dot in the early morning sky. “You lookin’ at the stars?”
“Yeah,” mumbled Crutchie.
“Whaddaya see?”
He paused. “I’m wishin’.”
“For what?”
Crutchie took a few breaths, watching the small, flickering light. There were thousands of them out west. “Jack, if ya don’t mind me askin’,” he spoke, quickly changing the subject. “Whatcha said, is it true?”
Jack blinked. “What I said about what?”
“About Santa Fe, that it can fix my leg.”
He paused. “Well, yeah, it’s true,” he nodded. “Why?”
Crutchie looked down and shook his head. “I just wanna make sure that this is real.”
Jack silently stared at his best friend. As much as he always tried to look on the bright side of things, Crutchie wasn’t one to ignore the present. Neither of them were. In reality, they were just two kids living on the street; just specs of dust in the ever-changing world that was New York City. This town was the kind that can beat you to the ground and drain even the happiest people of their last ounce of light. There were even times when they saw it happen firsthand.
And so, Jack vowed to himself that, for as long as he could, he would never let that happen. Not to him, not to his newsies, and especially not to Crutchie.
“Hey,” he spoke, giving a gentle look. “When I leave, you’s comin’ with me, alright? You and me, we’re gonna get on that train and leave this town together. We’s a family, Crutch. We're brothers, and I ain’t never gonna letcha down. You know that, right, knucklehead?”
Crutchie chuckled as Jack ruffled his hair. "Ain't nothin' happenin' to you, as long as I'm around."
"Me too," added Crutchie. "I know I ain't much of a fighter like you or the fellas, but I's gonna watch your back as best I can."
Jack's heart softened. He smiled sincerely. "You's a strong kid, Crutch; as strong as me or anyone else. Probably more."
Crutchie grinned at his brother, his brother with whom he'd just made a lifelong promise. A new hope began gleaming in his eyes. “Who’s gonna take care of the newsies when you’re gone?”
“Probably Race,” replied Jack.
Crutchie smirked. “You’re givin’ Manhattan over to him?”
"He's my second; he’ll be fine." Jack cracked his knuckles and rolled his shoulders. "But if he don't square up, I'm gonna ‘ave to teach him a lesson or two."
Crutchie's eyes grew wide. After a few silent seconds, Jack couldn't hold his composure any longer and the two burst out into laughter. For a moment, they didn't have to worry about the world below or whether they'd make enough money to eat. For a moment, the two of them could just be kids.
Their laughter died down and they grinned at each other. Their conversation was interrupted by a distant, resounding chime that echoed off the city's brick walls. The morning bell.
“Time for dreamin’s done, eh?” Jack happily sighed, and Crutchie nodded. He grabbed his shirt and leaned over the railing of the fire escape, yelling to his boys down below. “Hey, Specs! Racer! Henry! Albert! Elmer! Get a move on - them papes don’t sell themselves!”
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howdoyousleep3 · 4 years
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fic writing meme - 8?
#8: Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it. 
Oh my gosh such a good question and I’m going with the one that instantly came to my mind-- Right in my Space. I’ve included it down below (it is quite lengthy, more than a “snippet”). I remember writing this and being so fucking proud of myself for how it played out in my head and how it turned out. I wanted to convey their relationship and how messy it kind of was but I also wanted to convey how fucking weak they were for each other and how they knew one another so well. 
I was proud of how cocky they sounded, how flirty and joking they sounded, how comfortable. I loved when Steve told Bucky him talking about Steve sucking him off was a cheap shot and then when Bucky said, “Wouldn’t use it if it didn’t work” I wrote it screaming, ahahaha. I was also proud of Steve telling Bucky he had to work for it because he was showing up at Steve’s door “damn near tomorrow”. I like that they sounded like they were talking with like...an older generational vibe? Idk. V proud of this one, might be my pride and joy and that’s wild because it isn’t my Daddy!Steve and Baby!Buck. 
Anon! ILY thank you!! 
“Did uh…did I interrupt somethin’?” Bucky asks, a tease in his tone as his eyes rove hotly over Steve’s form once more before meeting his eyes and Steve huffs, “No, no I’m just…just having a night in,” as he crosses his arms over his chest. Bucky’s smirk grows and Steve can’t help but mirror it after a few seconds of looking at each other like a pair of goons standing in an apartment building hallway. He decides to get right to the point, rip it off in one go like a bandaid.
“What are ya doin’ walkin’ up to my door at midnight, Buck?” he asks quietly, leaning on the doorknob as gracefully as he can when one attempts to do so. Bucky is quiet for a few seconds, turns his head to the left, Steve able to see the clench of his strong jaw, and he sucks in air before answering with a shrug.
“I texted you.”
“I put my phone on silent to have time to myself.”
“You been doin’ that for a month now?”
Steve stutters, meets Bucky’s playful yet challenging gaze, knowing there’s a little bit of hurt in his eyes and tone as well, and it guts him. He shuffles on his feet and looks away.
“Buck, look I—”
“You look good, baby…” Bucky purrs, interrupting his thoughts, Steve knowing that tone of voice intimately, it breaking down every brick of Steve’s walls within just a few words, and he rolls his eyes as if it didn’t set butterflies loose in his chest. Before Steve can call him on his cheesy line Bucky’s hand softly glides down a few inches of his arm and Steve must have missed the part where he stepped in closer because he can smell Bucky’s scent, all warm and spearmint-y and pine-y and feel the heat radiating off of his body that makes him want to squeeze in close to his chest.
“Quit, Bucky. I’m standin’ here in my britches and a huge sweatshirt, can’t look good,” Steve huffs pathetically and Bucky’s quick to respond with, “Always look good, more than good,” and Steve feels his cheeks heat up and flush at the simple comment. How can someone make his stubborn self be so easy?
“Been missin’ you,” Bucky comments almost off-handedly, a breath of a thing, and it feels like someone has a fist around his heart, makes it squeeze up into his throat. It’s just physical, it’s just physical, he reminds himself but damn does it feel good to hear Bucky directing that comment to him of all people. Steve doesn’t know what to say in response, knowing that if he did respond he would push Bucky away and he should but he doesn’t want to, he really doesn’t want to. But he should.
“Got to thinkin’ about you tonight,” Bucky starts and there’s a shift in his tone that has Steve’s dick perking up, one that has his pulse quickening. The last thing Steve needs is that mouth to pop off with pure filth but it’s been so long and Steve is whining to himself in his head that he wants it, needs it!!! that he’s weak and suddenly horny all over and half-hard in his briefs. He can’t meet Bucky’s eyes, not yet, but that doesn’t stop the brunette from pushing, from crowding Steve into the doorjamb and being so close but not fucking touching him. In a humiliating turn of events it almost makes Steve whine, swallowing it down as effectively as he can, attempting to stay strong but Bucky’s presence is overwhelming and heady, making Steve question why he wanted to push Bucky away to begin with.
“Got to thinkin’ about your pretty eyes and that pretty mouth,” Bucky starts, speaking slow and syrupy, innocently enough, but then he’s tilting Steve’s chin up and running a thumb along his bottom lip and shit Steve wants to suck in into his mouth while he gazes into those blue-grey eyes. He lets Bucky touch his lip, caress it and watch him watch the movement on Steve’s mouth and then Bucky breathes, “Thought about how sweet you look when you’ve got your mouth stuffed full’a my cock.”
Mother fuck. It’s the cheapest of shots and Steve tells him so, a whisper of, “Cheap fuckin’ shot, Barnes,” but it’s breathless and so obviously needy. He loves giving Bucky head, loves taking Bucky apart with his mouth, loves having his ridiculously perfect cock so deep in his throat that he gags on it a little. He loves laying between Bucky’s thick thighs, looking up his beefy body all sweet and batting his eyelashes, suckling on the fat head, taking him deep, making it wet and messy, lapping at his balls—Steve loves sucking on Bucky’s cock.
“Mhmm, wouldn’t use it if it didn’t work, sweetheart,” Bucky murmurs with a smirk, hand moving away from his face, Steve already putty in his hands with his chin remaining tilted up without the help of a few fingers. He doesn’t even notice his eagerness and Bucky leans down to run his nose alongside Steve’s own, such an intimate gesture, such a tease, and he finds himself barely whimpering into Bucky’s mouth before he can catch it. He’ll be damned if he leans in first, is the one to kiss Bucky or initiate a kiss first.
“Thought about how pretty you look when you come. You let out the sweetest noises, honey, did you know that?” Bucky asks hot and low on his lips and it makes Steve’s gut clench up and his eyelids flutter closed and now all Steve can think about is how good it feels when Bucky wrings orgasm after orgasm out of him in the way only Bucky can do so. He bites at his lip and looks back up at the larger man, rock hard in his briefs by this point, and whispers, “Yeah?” just so he can get Bucky thinking about him more, completely selfish and okay with it.
Steve’s innocent question makes Bucky’s eyes sparkle mischievously and he watches as his own fingers slip down Steve’s arm, murmuring, “Oh yeah, just the prettiest. Been missin’ ‘em, been missin’ hearing you let ‘em out just for me. D’you miss lettin’ them out for me, sugar?” Sugar hits him right in the chest, another cheap shot, makes him gasp lightly into the air between him and Bucky, hand twitching to reach out. Sugar is his favorite, makes him bashful and sweet, makes him want to wrap himself around Bucky and nibble at his neck, kiss at that spot underneath his ear that makes him shiver.
Goddamnit.
Before he can help it, Steve is nodding his head minutely, glancing at Bucky’s lips before looking into his smoky eyes and whispering, “Love makin’ them for you, Buck you know that.” His response makes Bucky smile slyly, like he knows he’s working Steve over, leading him easily right into his trap as if he needed a trap to get Steve to go to bed with him. Bucky’s lips brush his so softly he doesn’t even feel it at first, just lips dusting lips, and it’s like every pent-up piece of anxiety about the situation unravels in his chest at the touch. He’s scared to move, scared to say anything, just wants to feel Bucky again, missing him even though he’s right here in front of him squeezing his smaller body into the door frame even more.
“God, baby no one makes ‘em like you, looks so sweet takin’ me the way you do,” Bucky’s voice sounds like gravel to his ears and he presses a gentle and chaste kiss to the corner of Steve’s lips and he can’t help it, he breaks down a little bit, hands flying up to grip onto Bucky’s hips. He slips his thumbs under his rucked-up sweatshirt and swipes them against warm skin, his mouth watering at the massive desire to feel this warm skin surround him, all over him. Bucky purrs, eyes watching Steve’s own as best they he can as he kisses the other corner of his mouth, slow and sweet and full of self-control.
Steve expects Bucky’s lips to stop there but they slip against his cheek, soft and simple, kissing a cheekbone then the hinge of his jaw then the skin of his neck. He feels like his body is on fire, flames licking tight up his spine, cock throbbing in time with his heartbeat and he damn near collapses against the doorjamb as he tilts his head back. His grip on Bucky’s hips tightens and he hisses through his teeth when he feels the other man suck on the soft skin of his neck, makes him whine out softly, “Buck…”.
He’s done for. Just like that.
“Yeah, sugar, those noises. You gonna make ‘em for me tonight? You gonna let me hear ‘em? Don’t know why you’ve been hidin’ from me,” and Bucky’s voice is hot in his ear, hot against his mouth, hips finally finally pressing into his form, large against small, and it’s so much at once, so overwhelming. Steve is panting within seconds, heavy breaths through his nose as best he can, and he gasps out, “You gonna treat me right and work ‘em outta me, big guy?” Bucky groans, chuckles darkly through it, and although Steve’s words are tough and his chin is strong, he’s trembling against Bucky’s body, pressed together from head to toe at this point. Bucky’s hands run up his sides gently, his movements and lips and eye contact soft, the exact opposite of the powerful electricity they’re currently sharing. Bucky’s wide palms cup his face, his jaw, and he purrs, “Oh, honey—you got no idea.”
“Gonna make you work for it, Barnes. I ain’t easy and you’re comin’ to my door damn near tomororw,” Steve whispers back as if he’s completely put out by the other’s surprise arrival at his doorstep, completely melting into the feeling of Bucky’s big hands running over his body, squeezing at it slowly and deep. Bucky bites at his chin on his way to trail kisses along is jawline and he’s almost done pretending he doesn’t want Bucky, moaning softly at the treatment, hips stuttering into the beefy body in front of him.
“Always fightin’, always stubborn—expect nothin’ else from you, sugar. You want me to break you down, that’s exactly what I’ll do.”
And suddenly Steve’s feet are off the ground with a squeak, Bucky’s hands confidently grabbing onto his ass, yanking him up somehow gracefully, purring deeply into his lips when he feels how hard Steve is against his stomach, lithe thighs wrapping around a thick waist. And then they’re kissing and it’s so hot and frantic, Bucky’s lips are heaven, eager and warm, and Steve’s grabbing at Bucky’s jaw, fingers tingling at the feeling of stubble underneath them.
“Yeah, look at you puttin’ up a hard front while this little cock is about to burst just from my words alone, honey.”
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The Worm Reads: The Assassin’s Blade, Ch 19-20
SJM either cuts one measly scene into three chapters or crams 100+ long scenes into on chapter so this one is gonna be super fucking long
Celaena dressed in the nicest tunic she’d brought—which wasn’t really anything to admire, but the midnight blue and gold did bring out the turquoise hues in her eyes.
SJM gotta stop bringing attention to Celery’s Mary Sue eyes because I laugh every time I think about them.
Ansel takes Celery to dinner.
Staying alert as they entered the hall was an effort of will. Yet even with her exhaustion, she instinctively scanned the room. There were three exits—the giant doors through which they entered, and two servants’ doors on either end. The hall was packed wall-to-wall with long wooden tables and benches full of people. At least seventy of them in total. None of them looked at Celaena as Ansel ambled toward a table near the front of the room. If they knew who she was, they certainly didn’t care. She tried not to scowl.
This paragraph right here. This sums up everything wrong with this book.
At first while I was reading this, I was like “Yes finally!! Celery is acting like an assassin! It took us two short stories to get here, but we finally did!” And then SJM immediately ruins it by having Celery cry and wail about nobody giving her special attention.
Boo fucking hoo! You’re an assassin, you’re not supposed to stand out, you fucking spoiled asshole!! This character is utter garbage and I hate her so much, this is actually making me enjoy the ending of E0S where she gets the shit kicked out of her and shoved into an iron coffin. Fuck her. Fuck this book.
Ansel mentions some Lord Berick guy, who Celery has never heard of before.
“He’s the villain,” said a curly-haired, dark-eyed man across from Ansel. He was handsome in a way, but had a smile far too much like Captain Rolfe’s for Celaena’s liking. He couldn’t have been older than twenty-five.
Nuance who?
Ansel blathers on about Lord Berick and how he’s the most Evil Guy Ever who wants this part of the desert or some shit. No doubt Celery will beat him in one paragraph if they meet, so who really cares.
Outside of the markets in Rifthold (...) she’d never seen such a mix of different kingdoms and continents. And though most of the people here were trained killers, there was an air of peace and contentment—of joy, even.
This place is way tf better than Arobynn’s shitty assassin joint. Please let us stay here?
Vows of silence, Ansel had explained earlier, were taken for as long as each person saw fit. Some spent weeks in silence; others, years. Ansel claimed she’d once sworn to be silent for a month, and had only lasted two days before she gave up. She liked talking too much. Celaena didn’t have any trouble believing that.
That is quite fucking rich coming from you, Celery.
Celaena felt someone’s attention on her, and tried not to blink when she noticed a dark-haired, handsome young man watching her from a few seats down. Stealing glances at her was more like it, since his sea-green eyes kept darting to her face, then back to his companions.
oh no
Their eyes met, and his tan face spread into a smile, revealing dazzlingly white teeth. Well, he was certainly desirable—as desirable as Sam, maybe.
oh god no why this
SJM has basically skipped out on love triangles (Dorito never had a chance in T0G and Tamlin never had a chance in AC0TAR, and you all know it) but nope, she just had to hit all of the shitty YA tropes. Fucking great. Poor Ilias is probably gonna be put down so Celery can realize Sammy is her one true love.
“I’m surprised you caught Ilias’s eye,” Ansel teased, keeping her voice low enough for only Celaena and Mikhail to hear. “He’s usually too focused on his training and meditating to notice anyone—even pretty girls.” (...) “I’ve known him for years, and he’s never been anything but aloof with me,” Ansel continued. “But maybe he has a thing for blondes.” Mikhail snorted.
Holy shit, is this... self awareness? I mean, both the protagonists of SJM’s big ticket series are skinny blonde white girls who have men drooling left and right for them. I bet that new Creamcheese City novel will also feature a blonde “””strong female character””” as the lead.
Celaena pushed around the food on her plate. It wasn’t that she wasn’t romantic. She’d been infatuated with a few men before—from Archer, the young male courtesan who’d trained with them for a few months when she was thirteen, to Ben, Arobynn’s now-deceased Second, back when she was too young to really understand the impossibility of such a thing.
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Dude he’s like a fucking adult and she’s barely 16. Get this nasty shit outta my face. So Celery rescued Ben’s body not because he was a good guy, but because she used to have the hots for him?? This is actually gross.
Mikhail asks why Celery’s master beat the shit out of her, and she kisses her own ass for a moment or two while telling the story of freeing the slaves.
“But if the two hundred slaves that I freed are telling the story, then no, I suppose I didn’t deserve it.” None of them were smiling anymore. “Holy gods,” Ansel whispered. True silence fell over their table for a few heartbeats.
HFAKHDKAHDKAHDS I AM GOING TO LOSE MY SHIT
STOP!! MAKING!! EVERYONE!! SPLOOGE!! OVER!! CELERY!! IM SICK OF READING IT GET IT OUT OF MY FACE
The next day (I think?), Ansel takes Celery out to do some running and Celery is pissy that she isn’t immediately getting special attention from the Mute Master. Good to see Celery will never change in her selfish, whiny ways.
Celery fucking sucks at the run to the oasis and everyone continues to lap her.
A small oasis, mostly a ring of trees and a giant pool fed by a shimmering stream, was barely an eighth of a mile away. She was Adarlan’s Assassin—at least she’d made it here.
Stop reminding me she’s Adaran’s Assassin, I fucking know. Remember how I said at the beginning that Celery doesn’t splooge over herself as much as Alien does? Yeah I take it back, Celery is even more obnoxious.
Later on Ansel tries to stroke Celery’s fragile precious little ego by saying she did worse on her first run.
“My first run, I collapsed. Mile two. Completely unconscious. Ilias found me on his way back and carried me here. In his arms and everything.” Ilias’s eyes met with Celaena’s, and he smiled at her. “If I hadn’t been about to die, I would have been swooning,”
No Ilias/Ansel/Celery love triangle, please.
Celaena blushed, suddenly too aware of Ilias’s attention, and took a sip from her cup of lemon water. As the meal wore on, her blush remained as Ilias continued flicking his eyes toward her. She tried not to preen too much. But then she remembered how miserably she’d performed today— how she hadn’t even gotten a chance to train—and the swagger died a bit.
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Celaena made her best attempt to look casual as she, too, stood and bid everyone good night. As she turned away, she noticed that Mikhail took Ansel’s hand and held it in the shadows beneath the table.
Apparently Ansel and Mikhail are a thing? I literally don’t care. Mikhail has said like what, five words this entire story? They’re literally just together because SJM can’t stand the idea of having any single characters (unless they’re evil).
Celery chases down The Master to demand her special snowflake treatment.
The Master paused, his white clothes rustling around him. He offered her a little smile. Up close, she could certainly see his resemblance to his son. There was a pale line around one of his fingers— perhaps where a wedding ring had once been. Who was Ilias’s mother? Of course, it wasn’t at all the time for questions like that.
Yeah, no shit Celery. Why are you such an idiot?
The Mute Master is like “wait your turn” and leaves. Ilias shows up for shipping fuel I guess?
“I have no plans to hurt him,” she said softly. But Ilias gave her a half smile, his brows rising as if to ask if she could blame him for being protective of his father.
Maybe I’m a softie, but this endeared me to him somewhat. He seems like a nice guy, which is more than what you get with 95% if SJM’s male characters. How come all of Celery’s love interests Rowboat who are waaay better characters than her?
His eyes were vivid in the torchlight, his hand firm and warm around hers. She let go of his fingers. The son of the Mute Master and the protégée of the King of the Assassins. If there was anyone here who was at all similar to her, she realized, it was Ilias. Rifthold might be her realm, but this was his.
Human brain: don’t get attached, Celery is an asshole
Monkey brain: hhhhhh parallels between partners in a ship...love....
Not that Ilias and Celery are/will be a thing, but you know. I’m a sucker for shit like this.
Ilias suddenly began making a series of motions with his long, tan fingers, but Celaena laughed softly. “I have no idea what you’re trying to say.” Ilias looked skyward and sighed through his nose. Throwing his hands in the air in mock defeat, he merely patted her on the shoulder before passing by
Ilias is a good, pure boy. I’d read a story where Sammy goes to the desert instead of Celery and him and Ilias fall in love and hold hands under the shade of the desert night. Hngh, I really wish I could be reading that fanfic instead of this novel.
As she walked back to her room, Celaena had a horrible feeling that here, being Adarlan’s Assassin might not count for much.
Celery says this like we’re supposed to feel sorry for her, but back in Arobynn;s Assassin joint she flaunts her title around and rubs it in everyone’s face so yeah, you don’t get sympathy from me.
“How long have you been seeing him?” Ansel was silent for a long moment before answering. “Since I was fifteen.” Fifteen! Mikhail was in his midtwenties, so even if this had started almost three years ago, he still would have been far older than Ansel. It made her a little queasy.
Oh. My. God.
See, I personally don’t like huge age gapes in ships (that’s just my personal preference, don’t fucking @ me) but Celery you literally said earlier you were in love with Ben, a fucking grown man, when you were a young teenager you fucking hypocrite!!!!!!!! God I fucking hate Celery!!!!!!!
With nothing else to distract her, Celaena eventually returned to thinking about Sam. Even weeks later, she had no idea how she’d somehow gotten attached to him, what he’d been shouting when Arobynn beat her, and why Arobynn had thought he’d need three seasoned assassins to restrain him that day.
Pretty simple answers. You got attached to Sammy because a) SJM wanted you to so she forced you to start thirsting for him, and b) you realized “oh hey Sammy is a good guy maybe I shouldn’t imagine myself slitting his throat”. What Sammy was shouting will be revealed later to my knowledge, and as for the 3 assassins thing... idk, tbh. I mean, Sammy is just a teenager boy, one big buff assassin should be enough to restrain him.
This chapter finally ends thank fucking god. We still have one more to go for today.
[Celaena] did run farther the next day. And the day after that, and the one following that. But it still took her so long to get back that she didn’t have time to seek out the Master. Not that she could. He’d send for her. Like a lackey.
Stop trying to make me feel bad for Celery being ignored if she’s just gonna splooge about how ~special and uhmayzing~ she is.
Like the assassins in Adarlan, the Silent Assassins weren’t known for any skill in particular—save the uncannily quiet way they moved.
That seems kinda odd. Assassins should be talented at many ways of disposing of people yeah, but wouldn’t it make more sense for some of them to have a knack for a certain type of killing, such as using poisons?
Still, even as [the assassins] corrected her posture and showed her new ways to control her breathing, she tried her best not to snarl at them. She knew plenty—she wasn’t Adarlan’s Assassin for nothing.
If I have to read that fucking sentence one more time I am ripping this book in half. No joke, I am a hair’s length away from not finishing this fucking book. Even E0S never got me to want to throw  the towel in completely and quit like this.
Perhaps if she demonstrated that she was skilled enough in these practices, the Master might take notice of her. She’d get that letter. Even if she had to hold a dagger to his throat while he wrote it.
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Wow, asshole! You have to put in the tiniest amount of effort to learn and talk to people and you’re already resorting to violence??? You really are a weak and stupid protagonist and I hate you with every fiber of my being.
The attack by Lord Berick happened on her fifth night.
This made me sit up in my seat, to be honest. We finally get.... plot? Promises of action? Assassins versus assassins? Holy shit, I’m hype!
Apparently the attack happens oh so conveniently when the Mute Master and a bunch of assassins are away on a mission. Celery acknowledges this as extremely convenient, which leads me to believe there may be a rat in the assassin fortress. If not, then this is laughably stupid and convenient.
“We’re not going to kill [the soldiers]?” Celaena whispered back. (...) Ansel shook her head, watching Ilias down the line. “No, though I wish we could.” Celaena didn’t particularly care for the casual way she said it
Why would that fucking bother you?? Don’t act all high and mighty asshole, you’re an assassin the same as her. You both kill people for a living. Jesus fucking christ.
They all fire some burning arrows at an oil ridge in the sand or something which scares off Lord Berick’s goons. The scene ends.
I’m not even joking, this entire scene takes up a page and a tiny paragraph of another. I... I’m fucking speechless. You promise us an action scene and you give us this shitty, glossed over pile of garbage that serves no point? No named characters were even injured!!!!!! Holy fucking shit, SJM, you are a terrible terrible terrible writer! Please fucking stop, I can’t handle any more of these dumpster fires of novels.
The next day Mikail tells Ansel she has orders to go to Xandria, and she invites Celery to go along with, I assume Xandria is a place.....? This chapter ends. I am going to drown myself in chocolate chip cookies to heal.
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readmylip-s · 5 years
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thank u, next.
so here we are, a week left until we usher in the new year. 2018 is probably one of the more major roller coaster rides i’ve had for a while now. i’ve had quite a few accomplishments and fcos the usual emotional-down-turns. i’ve also had tons of blessings and a lot of lessons learnt through the year. i’ve always been told to count my blessings so thats exactly what i’ve been doing. 
if you know me you’d know i prefer keeping my social circle small, though it may not seem that way on socmed. but thats the thing, thats social media. i dont revolve my life around social media. i think i’ve said this way too many times - what you see is only what i choose to show. on a personal level, i rlly prefer the company of a small group of people, even if it means just hanging out with one or two friends. i think 2018 is also the year i’ve had one of the most me-time. i enjoy going to the movies alone, having the entire couple seat to myself, i love sitting at starbucks sipping on GT Cream or seasonal drinks and occasionally with a plate of beef pie. teehee.
i’ll prolly share some positive and not so positive highlights of my year, as well as all the blessings i’ve had through the year. 
this year, just like the past 2 years, i landed myself in the hospital. 
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pretty much because of the same old issues i’ve been having. was put on oxygen supply for quite a fair bit, had multiple needles poked through my skin, and multiple bags of glucose. it was a crazy period because it was during the fasting month and prior to the hospitalization, i was fasting. and even when i was in the a&e and eventually warded, i was still not allowed to have food. i was cranky, i was upset and best of all? i felt like i was gna faint. i was due for surgery, again, the next day so i couldnt eat. but i was a rebel. during the night, i secretly chewed on Mr Bean pancake that my brother got me when he accompanied me for a bit. so glad i didnt get caught hehe. fast forward, post surgery, i ate like a monster. the little brother was supposed to fly off the next morn for his school trip but he still came to visit me during the night. he even brought me bubble tea?! i was discharged after what seemed to be a torturous 3d2n staycation at NTFGH. 
2018 was the year i get to tick off certain things in my bucket list. i finally, finally did something i really wanted to do.
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i got myself a septum piercing. its a pretty unorthodox thing considering how i dress and all but hey, a girl can dream, and make her own dreams come true. it was on a very random sunday that i decided to get it. but i’m kinda glad i did. i guess all the needles from all my hospitalizations helped me coped with the needle that poked through my septum. pretty sure this is only gna be a phase so all you hateful people, shut your trap. hahahaha. :)
also this year, i finally got to climb a mountain again. 
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it was DFOALC’s first overseas staff expedition. (no, i wouldnt consider pulau ubin ‘overseas’, haha) it was the toughest climb i’ve had of all the 4 climbs i’ve done before. in summary - my injury acted up during the ascend and descend, and i also almost lost my life to Gunung Berembun. i survived, alhamdulillah. i just needed my cast when i got back to Singapore. phew. 
moving on to counting my blessings, i call them my constants. 
#4. 
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its no surprise that AY is one of the greatest blessing i never knew i needed in my life. i never know where to begin when it comes to how beyond blessed i am for his presence in my life. its still so surreal how we were friends for the longest time and now we’re planning for a future together?! WHAT. hold on, time! 
it is rlly crazy how this whole love thing works. but whatever that is, it has brought so much joy in my life. and AY has made me the happiest kid ever since we began our journey in chasing NZ! thank you, AY. you’re so bloody amazing, and i can’t wait to spend forever and a day with you. dont know what i did to deserve you but i’m glad i did. x
#3.
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my bestfriend; nurul. we went through our poly days together, and even when we were separated in to different classes, we still made it a point to have lunch together atleast once or twice a week. clingsterzx much. we even applied for the same job together and among our group of friends who applied, only the two of us got it. is this fate or what?! thank you sissy for being there, always. and for always being the one with the sneaky pick me ups, and listening to all my sob stories. but please dont degil when i try to help you find a boyfriend??? but if you insist then i hope you find your oppa lah okay. we have had our differences and our bumpy ride but what doesnt kill us makes us stronger, yes? so much love for you, sissy! x
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my other bestfriend, zulh.jsmn. this photo is the exact representation of our bestfriendship. he annoys the living shit outta me but i have got no choice but to accept him the way he is. unlike nurul, this one is lowkey always asking me to find him a girlfriend. smh. your day will come soon, buddy. i’m grateful for all the times you made sure i was always in check. also for being my guitarist bcus i’m that much of a loser who cant play the guitar, and most importantly for the letter you wrote to me 5 years ago for me to look back to when i feel like the worst person on earth. oh and all the times you traveled down for me just to send food that you cooked so i’d have food to break my fast with during my internship?!?! you always have the most interesting gifts for me whether its for my birthday or just a random gift. the box of clouds from genting, i still have it! appearing in Chicago with SD and a guitar to sing me a birthday song at midnight for my 19th birthday. and the lantern we flew for my 20th birthday in Tennessee at midnight? i choose to believe its still flying somewhere in the sky! thank you, buddy for everything. smell ya in futura tomato saucin, buddiok! #OHOS #GBT #NZV lives! 
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my sister, SD. oh sisthur, the resemblance we have is uncanny. it is no wonder people automatically recognize us as sisters through photos. our taxi stand incident will always be etched at the back of my mind. it is one i would never forget bcus it is that one short incident that led us to how close we are up till today. though things cannot be exactly how i imagined it to be, i’m still glad i have you almost entirely. here’s to more sisthur hangz! sayang sawah! x
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and of course, my number one constant, my only older brother. you suck and you’re such an idiot but you care for me in ways no other human would. no one, and i rlly mean no one, can ever take your place in my life, for blood is thicker than water. i promise, to always make you proud of me. and i too promise that when the day comes that you shed your tears for me, i’d cheer you up and promise to always be the same baby sister you grew up with. thank you, for calling me your bestfriend, and for loving me with all your life. growing up together hasnt been an easy feat but i’m glad our rivalry only lasted through the times we wore the same sneakers, shared the same room and have the same mp3 player. you rlly suck sometimes but i love you every other day. x 
/wow so much of a summary and a wrap up, nurfa./
but yep, these pretty much sums up my 2018. fcos there were pockets of crazy shit that happened through the year; from suffering cuts and bruises bcus of anxiety attacks, to losing my sanity, to falling out of a relationship, to my injury and to losing friends i thought who would be around a little longer. 
some other things i ticked off my bucket list was meeting Haqim Mokhtar and watch him perform live, singing on stage (i got to sing with sufian suhaimi!), being present for TLV gigs, and fcos, completing my desired Nike Collection hehehehe.
i am very much thankful to God for allowing me to unlearn and relearn whatever i needed to. i dont really do resolutions but in 2018, my goal was just to seek happiness. i’m glad to say that i have achieved my goal of being happy. and in 2019, i pray for constant happiness with the people i love most, and for inner peace. may 2019 be the year i break the chain of having to be hospitalized, and may 2019 also be the year of recovery. 
x, nvrfa 
1623 | 23rd December 2018
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bizmaster · 4 years
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As you remove the tube from its box and prepare for that first squeeze have you ever thought about how much life will have transpired between then and the time you force the last little bit of paste out of hiding and onto you brush? No? Well, not to worry, I have.
In the days, weeks or months that lie ahead (as determined by the size of the tube, frequency of use, the amount used per brushing, the number of others who use the tube, etc.), how many things will happen outside of the usual routine things of life? How will you and those around you be impacted? What challenges await?
What about that tube you just tossed into the trash? How did things play out? Did things occur you would never have imagined? Out of the ordinary? Memorable? What might you have done or said differently if you had the opportunity? Or, did time simply and quietly pass by?
I don’t know why the thought drifted across my mind (just as well…I likely saved a bundle in counseling fees). We hear about thoughts ‘striking’ people as if they originated from somewhere outside of our mind….. some sort of thought warehouse. Or maybe falling on our head from out of the sky as a flock of thought birds fly overhead…..no doubt some of my thoughts might best be described as thought excrement of this variety.
But the ‘toothpaste’ thought didn’t ‘strike’ me, it just unexpectedly and without fanfare, ‘oozed’ out of my brain for no apparent reason, and there it was. Once it did I could not shake it; like the relative who comes for a visit with no departure day in sight, it just lingered and would not go away.
Maybe if I just ignored it, the thought would go back to wherever it came from - like what my older brother Danny would do when mom insisted he take me with him as he was departing to his friend's house…. ignore me - pretend I wasn’t there. (mind you, I have put these countless emotion-scaring incidents completely behind me and bear no ill will toward brother Danny…… (it’s truly amazing what a few hundred counseling sessions can accomplish!). Similar to how I responded to my brother’s efforts, my thought would not be ignored. It actually turned out okay with Danny’s friends once I got to know them… you see, mom knew I didn’t have many friends of my own - okay, by ‘many’ I mean there were only two (if you apply a very loose definition of the word ‘friend’) - but that’s a tube for another time.
I don’t recall having any particularly heavy thoughts the day this one arrived. Don’t get me wrong, I’m quite a heavy thinker ya know…. I just don’t recall any ‘great’ thoughts that day. There already exists quite an ample number of perfectly normal and extremely more accurate measures of time than toothpaste tubes, so there was absolutely no need to create a new one…..“I’ll be away for a few days”…. much preferable to, “See you in 12 squeezes!” It came out of the blue, or in this case, the gray, matter…..one evening some time (I’d say roughly 5 or 6 medium-sized tubes) ago, as I squeezed a new tube for the first time - a very mundane, inconsequential, oft-repeated and not very exciting activity - squeezing a tube of toothpaste….but at that moment a few random brain cells collided and there they were…..
THE QUESTIONS; “What events will take place before that tube was empty?, What cool stuff would happen?, What not-so-cool or even downright bad stuff would happen?, Would I meet new people?, Experience new things?, Where might I go?, Would I want to go there? How will I get back if I do go? Would I learn a new card game?, Make a new friend? Improve my tennis serve?” (still hoping for that last one).
I consider myself to be in decent health, but a few ‘big’ questions too; “Would I be around for the last squeeze?” (after all, our tubes are numbered). Most of my tube wonderings aren’t earth-shaking types of queries (i.e., “why am I here?”, “why is there air?”, etc.), but from the moment of that first series of questions, time for me has been divided into the Pre-tube and Post-tube era. There is simply no going back.
First, some background. You should know that when I say ‘the last squeeze’ of a tube, I mean there is no remaining toothpaste in the recesses of that tube. Having been raised in a large family (eight kids) by post-depression era parents who were on the lower end of the economic scale, discarding a tube of toothpaste, or anything else, with anything usable remaining would be unthinkable. So yeah, I mean THE…last….squeeze, as in there ain’t no mo paste comin’ outta that tube! It’s important for you to know this before we go any further.
Where did it come from? Okay, I know I said it was just as well not to know the ‘why’ behind my thought, but I can’t help wondering what dark, shadowy, weird recess of my brain formulated such a thing. A severe lack of vitamin whatever? A yet-to-be classified psychotic disorder? After all, surely I had more important, or at least more practical, things to think about, didn’t I? Wouldn’t no thoughts at all have been preferable to that one? As my mother often said, “What was I thinking!?”
I could blame the 60’s…. a time when, yes, I did, in fact, inhale (note to millennials: Google President Bill Clinton’s response when asked whether he smoked marijuana). I admit (not proudly but in all honesty) that yes, I did in fact - unlike our former president - inhale….to the best of my recollection I did so on more than one occasion. Okay, “more than one” could more accurately be described as “numerous” occasions. It was, after all, those numerous occasions that were the likely cause of my never becoming an astronaut, but even so, can I really lay the blame for my ‘toothpaste’ notion on the ’60s? Sadly, and again, perhaps mercifully, I’ll never know. I know what you’re thinking… what does it matter anyway? Good point.
Since the time the thought flittered across my mind it resurfaces regularly with most every squeeze of the tube (economy or travel size, it matters not)…..like ‘sands through an hourglass’, so goes the days, weeks, or whatever of my life.
There is no escaping it. I now live in a PC (Post Colgate) world of my own making. First squeeze, “What lies ahead?”, mid-tube squeeze, “What have I done?”, final squeezes, “Will I ever get it right?” Thankfully (at least so far) there’s always another tube, another chance…a ‘do-over’.
As you and I open our next new tube, will we find ourselves asking,”What does life have in store?” As for me, the answer appears to be a strong ‘yes’. As for you….though, perhaps, fortunately, you have only limited exposure to this way of thinking thus far, is it too late? Have you been infected? Sucked into a Twilight Zone realm from which there is no return?…..asking yourself similar questions to mine with every new tube….every squeeze? Is it worth the risk of ever grabbing a tube again? Should you go pasteless?
We can’t put the paste back in the tube. How many times have you and I thought back to a moment in time and wished that we had said or done something differently…..or not done or said something at all?
Perhaps a little ‘toothpaste’ thinking will help us to be better prepared for those moments; better able to respond in a way that causes us not to regret but to feel good as we relive those moments.
You may be familiar with an old Jim Croce song, ‘Time in a Bottle’ (love that song). The lyric goes “If I could put time in a bottle, the first thing that I’d like to do, is to take every day, til eternity passes and then, I would spend them with you”. What a lovely sentiment. I don’t imagine the song would have been nearly as popular had Jim went with ‘toothpaste’ in the lyric rather than ‘time’ (after all, everyone knows toothpaste doesn’t come in a bottle; and you can’t squeeze a bottle), but the concept is the same……once it’s gone, it’s gone, toothpaste or time. We must use it well!
”Live your dash” comes to mind. It’s a phrase from one of the most popular poems in the world – The Dash, by Linda Ellis.
It means to be mindful that we're only on this earth a little while. It encourages the reader to spend each day with passion and purpose… and to inspire others by living a life of joy, compassion, and kindness.
When I hear someone say, “Live each day as if it were your last”, I can’t help but think, “Who does that?!” I mean unless it really is your last day, who lives like that?” My bank account would be empty! Chocolate for breakfast! Cake and pizza for lunch! Forget the workout! Extra butter with my bacon, please! Okay perhaps I’m being too literal, but I get the idea…..It’s easy to buzz through life repeating a series of repetitive habits and behaviors and miss the real substance of it all; not stopping long enough to ‘smell the roses’. Perhaps toothpaste thinking isn’t such a bad thing?
Aside from promoting good dental hygiene, it’s my hope in recording some of the meanderings that follow - The Toothpaste Chronicles - that you and I might just be a little better prepared for whatever lies ahead for us; good, bad, and in between; routine or not. To live on purpose; intentionally; and in doing so to squeeze all we can out of opportunities we are given….and in the wake of that, be encouraged.
-As you remove the tube from its box and prepare for that first squeeze have you ever thought about how much life will have transpired between then and the time you force the last little bit of paste out of hiding and onto you brush? No? Well, not to worry, I have. In the days, […]- #@LIFECULTURE, #@STORYTELLING+, #FEATURED, #TOOTHPASTECHRONICLES -Mike Pitocco
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cosmicallybrownie · 7 years
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ashes to ashes
pairing: Natan
warnings: swearing, food mention, blood mention, death mention
word count: 2000
Lucifer’s thoughts during the diner scene.
Her eyes were hollow.
He could count the pulses of fear rolling through her with every flutter of her eyelashes. The fraction of a second that it took to blink was the only thing separating Lucifer from Natalie’s seeking gaze that wanted to ask so many questions. Uncertainty arrested her tongue and the blinks only added up to selfish portions of time that weren’t enough for Lucifer’s shoulders to relax.
The hum of the diner around him was a quiet cacophony that raked against the tight skin of his back. Rattling silverware and the static from an old jukebox that still ran on dimes snaked down his spine, pressing whispers of tension into the muscles that strained under his sorrow.
Natalie was wrong.
His forearms stuck to the lacquered wooden table, sticky from the residue of something that came before. The heavy clear coat formed thick droplets in the seams of the wood, and bore divets and nicks from years of constant use and heavy plates. He traced a finger along a curve that lead into the deepest cut of all, practically bifurcating the table in its efficiency.
He had never felt so separated from her. He would almost prefer he was still tethered to Hell.
The screams would be easier to deal with than the polite mill of chatter and scrape of old pans against the iron stoves.
(And he would still be connected to Natalie by a contract. By the thin golden chain linking their souls into eternity.)
Her hands were tucked into her lap, and she was shrinking. She folded in on herself, her watery eyes shifting in and out of focus as she tried to look at everything but him, while still studying him. A storybook character brought to life, frighteningly handsome and striking in a way that made her doubt every warning blaring across her vision. Natalie looked every part of the sacrificial lamb brought before him as an offering, and Lucifer leaned his cheek against his palm to look at her.
His acute hearing flushed out the resounding chorus of a dated song, and he could hear Natalie’s stomach whine with hunger, and annoyance flared up in him, sudden and sharp enough for him to break the silence.
“For the love of God, if you don’t eat something today I’m going to have to force feed you.” Frustration tinged with worry burned on his tongue like the spices he had only tasted once in the garden. He’d helped create them, sampling incensed leaves that were drowning in decadence. “It’s been three days.”
“I’m sorry,” She apologized, looking away. Looking anywhere but at him, afraid of what she might discover. “I’m just not hungry…”
It was a lie, he could read the hunger clawing at the edges of her mouth easily. Her expressions hadn’t changed, she still wore each emotion like a winter coat, shrugging in and out of them as she struggled to ward off the cold. Lucifer could recognize each one, marble carvings of her joys and sorrows lining the halls of his mind where she had imprinted herself in him over days and months and heartbeats.
“You’re not eating either,” Natalie interrupted his thoughts, bringing Lucifer back to the present and aware of the tug of exhaustion lingering in his joints.
“I don’t need to eat. I get a free pass.” The words were hardly more than air and he dropped both of his hands to the table. Dried blood was still crusted under his fingertips, Lucifer wasn’t sure who it belonged to. He fought the urge to hide his hands under the table, to hide from this Natalie, her accusation still ringing in his ears like lashes on his back.
Monster. Monster. Monster.
  Her eyes met his then, searching for answers to questions she was afraid to ask, “What do you mean you don’t need to eat?”
Lucifer gripped the edge of the table then, carefully keeping the grit out of his words. “Exactly what it sounds like.” His jaw clenched in annoyance, muscles tight with tension jumping when he spoke. “So just hurry up and eat your sandwich so we can get outta this shithole.”
She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth, nervous. She didn’t want to say the thoughts playing through her head then, and she glanced away from Lucifer, her eyes fixing on a waitress arranging straws in a cup, her body too weary for the retro uniform.
“I’m tired of walking.” Natalie said at last, the admission weighing on her in a way that wouldn’t if she knew what he would give for her, the lengths he would go. “Can’t we take a car or bus or something?”
He sat back carefully in the booth, his expression one of practiced calm, “If you eat something, I’ll consider it.”
Of course, he wanted to say, but he couldn’t afford promises now, they were too precious of a commodity to be wasted on transportation when the heavy weight of finding her soul pressed down on him like the ache of gravity. They would get nowhere fast, especially now that his back bore the shrieking stress of nothing.
He hadn’t understood the weight of his wings until they were stripped away like time. He felt centuries of fatigue seep into the pits his wings used to occupy, luring him into a fever pitch of urgency.
But he made no promises.
Instead he watched as Natalie’s eyes glazed over, and a momentary flash of fear shocked across the green when she looked down at the sandwich that was getting soggy from neglect.
“…what’s that look for? It’s not poisoned.” The attempt of a joke fell flat before he even said it, and he bit the side of his cheek waiting for her response. He could hear the tap of his heel against the floor, and he counted the raps until Natalie finally spoke.
“I just….this feels familiar.” She kept her eyes turned downwards, almost questioning herself until she finally met his gaze. “Are you sure we’ve never done this before?”
“Had dinner at a diner in the valley? Yeah, I’m sure. Stop stalling and eat.” His response was short, and he just wanted to get out, to flee from this place that was boringly neutral and knew too little of the burdens he carried alone. The voices filling the diner grated against his forming headache, and Lucifer could feel the swell of it begin in his temples, beating in time with his heartbeat when he clenched his jaw.
Her shoulders turned in on themselves to shrink away, to shrink away from him. In her eyes he was nothing short of the monster from fairy tales, stealing her away and hiding secrets that tugged the memories from her lungs. When she swallowed, she could still feel the catch of something in her throat. Something she could not name, but it burned to think about, as if she was fragmented and shredded from the inside out, leaving her raw and empty and so damningly afraid.
She blinked carefully at him, “…..But being a kidnapper, I thought – “
Monster. Kidnapper.
The words crawled down Lucifer’s spine like hot coals and the anger curled his fists too quickly for him to staunch the fury that slammed his fist against the table. It rattled under the impact, the sound chasing away curiosity as their booth was shrouded in choking shadows. She was blind, blind and empty and he couldn’t stand it.
In her eyes was nothing. Not a glimmer of her former self shone through now-Natalie’s sunken December eyes as she looked at him. No spark of recognition that always burned him into a flame, and the stirrings of something like undeserved affection were gone, everything soft was gone and replaced with ice that made his fingertips run cold. He was sure if he touched her, his fingertips would crumble away into ashes.
“Don’t call me that!” His voice was low and sharp with intensity. Pain hung off each syllable, coating his words in the shielded agony he pretended he didn’t feel. “I already told you that’s not what this is. I’m trying to help you remember, Natalie. Bear with it a few more days and I promise you’ll be back to normal.”
Normal. She was torn from him like the wings on his back, and it ached like an open wound, the infection of it creeping through his veins like a poison tailored to him. It would kill him just slow enough that he would consider taking a knife in his own hands, if only to silence the prolonged anguish and put an end to the sleepless nights of fever and misery.
Normal. She was too cold, an ice storm in April that stung like only the desolation of white could. Each time she glanced at him was like a brush of winter, sticking his teeth together and letting frozen wind pool in his lungs so they could no longer expand and he would suffocate around mouthfuls of air.
“You aren’t supposed to hate me. You – I –“ Lucifer choked on the words, his tongue trying to spill out secrets that he wasn’t ready to share. He gasped under his own words, his chest heaving up and down rapidly as fell back down from the sky and into the present.  
She wasn’t supposed to hate him. She had spoken love to him on the bus, on the coast, and in countless smiles and touches between the first drop of blood she shed for him and her death. Sick and on the inching slope to her end she still spoke in gentle tones of love, and in the streams of blood running from his carved out wings, he finally responded.
Love ran through his veins, thick and hot like blood and he wouldn’t dare spill it for the coldness in front of him. He didn’t want to talk to her. No, not this hollow version of Natalie who stared at him like he was the one to tear her open and toss her spirit into the wind.
Back to normal.
Lucifer could feel the elasticity in his lungs crackle when he sighed, “You know what? You don’t need to worry about any of this. Relax and let me handle it, okay?” His whole body was held tight on a metal wire, and it creaked when he bent forward to rub his forehead, “Jeez, do I have a headache.”
He would fix this. He had no other choice. There was no living without her, not anymore. Not when she had sold her soul to free him from the chains of Hell, and he sent her right into its open arms.
Natalie excused herself to the restroom and he slumped onto the table, the pounding behind his eyes growing to a crescendo as loose thoughts rolled around in his mind like cats eye marbles.
The hunt would begin, and he had no heed to care if it turned bloody. He would burn down towns and cities in search of Death, tearing himself into shattered pieces until her soul returned to her body and he could lay down at her feet and beg for forgiveness. Winter would flee from her bones and the press of his lips to hers would erase the word Monster so all that existed in her would be love and fire. The scars of broken plans would fade from their skin, the absence of wings turning to summer as he wrapped himself in the humid sticky love that Natalie offered so freely.
She had carved her name into his bones, and he couldn’t breathe without feeling the kiss of Natalie against his lungs. Her life would be a part of him, her name seared into his very being until the days tumbled into ashes and stardust, and he would stand amongst it all, putting her back together a piece of himself at a time. There would be no room for error, and even less for uncertainty, but Lucifer swore Natalie would wake before morning did.
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joementa · 4 years
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Live From The Menta Vinyl Archive, Volume 3.
This week we go with volume 3 of the live-only playlist that only features albums from my own personal vinyl collection.  One of the themes with this volume is definitely the emotions.  We are cranking up the emo this week.  A lot of the musicians on here are my go-to for when I am having an emo moment (don’t worry, Ryan Adams is coming up in a later volume).  I do think this playlist flows very nicely.  I’ve always felt that “Fake Empire” was a great opener, hence its slot as the lead song on the essential and classic album Boxer.  And it works really well here.  When putting these songs together, I was a little surprised at how fast-paced some of these songs are.  If you’re at a great show, usually the first 7 or 8 songs are pretty fast paced.  And I tried to script this playlist like a show. So after “Once In A Lifetime”, I threw in a few songs to allow you to catch your breath.  A few notes on some of the musicians/albums/songs in this playlist:
-          Alex Cameron. You need to know his music.  I would start with the album Forced Witness, especially the songs “Country Figs”, “Marlon Brando”, “Politics Of Love”, “Runnin’ Outta Luck”, “Stranger’s Kiss” (believe it or not, that’s actually not Gaga singing with him) and “Candy May”.  You’re gonna find yourself humming and singing along to these infectious melodies, but pay attention to the lyrics.  I’ll be surprised if you don’t laugh at many of them.  Alex Cameron needs to be more widely known.  Don’t just take my word for it.  Ask Brandon Flowers about it!
-          Life At Massey Hall 1971.  You need to own this album on vinyl.  Run (with a mask), don’t walk, to your nearest record store and buy it immediately. Along with Dreamin’ Man Live ’92. These are two of the most beautiful live albums I’ve ever heard.  Isn’t this version of “Journey Through The Past” enough proof??  Go buy those albums on vinyl!  These albums are best enjoyed in the cooler months.  But regardless, your ears will thank you.
-          Mark Kozelek. All of his stuff is great. Definitely check out Benji by Sun Kil Moon.  Plus anything he did with Red House Painters is also great.  Like those Neil Young albums, it’s cold weather music.  But the song still fits great on this playlist. Plus the Biko Club, where this album was recorded, is in Italy!!
-          Iron & Wine. Everything by Sam Beam (a.k.a. Iron & Wine) is impossibly beautiful.  I could be here all day and night recommending great songs of his that will stir up your soul. Make sure you check out the studio version of “The Trapeze Swinger”.  The live version on this playlist is great.  But the studio version is unbelievable.  Seriously, you might not believe what you are hearing when you listen to it.  Wow! So good!
-          Nick Cave. What can be said about the man that hasn’t been said already?  Listen to everything he’s ever released.  You won’t regret it.
-          The Civil Wars. I don’t know what happened to this duo to split them up.  But whatever it was, it’s a shame.  They made very beautiful music.  Check out “C’est la mort” from their debut album Barton Hollow.  And “Oh Henry” from their second, and last, album The Civil Wars.  Actually, scratch that.  Just listen to both albums!
-          The Replacements.  I always thought that “Unsatisfied” would make a great, and hilarious, last song at a show.  It would be very Westerberg-y.  When I saw them in Philly in 2015, guess what they closed with?  Yep, you guessed it!  “Unsatisfied”!......That being said, I wanted to end this playlist with one of my most favorite songs ever by one of my most favorite bands ever….
-          Alkaline Trio. “Radio”.  What a song.  What a riff. The emo is real with this one. Alkaline Trio doesn’t get the credit they deserve, when the reality is that they are definitely one of the better bands to come out in the past 20-25 years.
Hopefully you enjoy this playlist and I hope you agree that this flows very well.  I took a lot of time making sure that the transition from one song to the next works very well, and I think I achieved that here.  I also hope that you are enjoying these playlists, especially the live-only playlists in July.  I thought it would be a fun thing to do, especially since we aren’t going to live shows this year.  And I think these playlists are good evidence of how many truly great live albums there are out there.  If you have any live albums that I haven’t sampled yet, I’d love to hear about it!
Also.  One last thing.  I know it sucks that we aren’t able to go to shows right now.  Shows have been a huge part of my life for well over a decade.  I’m assuming they’ve been a big part of yours too. Hopefully we’ll be able to in 2021, but who knows.  But one thing we do know is that by wearing a mask and by social distancing, it will help us get there sooner rather than later.  So mask up!  
Apple Music: https://music.apple.com/us/playlist/live-from-the-menta-vinyl-archive-volume-3/pl.u-8aAVVB6FNmrv5R
Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7xcdMVcaV2KTR30tlnRo1i?si=kwSdqVLkQ-ea8jT_laGfvQ
The National – “Fake Empire” (Boxer (Life In Brussels))
Against Me! – “Transgender Dysphoria Blues” (23 Live Sex Acts)
The Horrible Crowes – “Go Tell Everybody” (Live At The Troubardour)
How Water Music – “Better Sense” (Live In Chicago)
Sleater-Kinney – “I Wanna Be Your Joey Ramone” (Live In Paris)
Alex Cameron – “Happy Ending” (Live In San Francisco)
Talking Heads – “One In A Lifetime” (Stop Making Sense)
Neil Young – “Journey Through The Past” (Live At Massey Hall 1971)
Sufjan Stevens – “Blue Bucket Of Gold” (Blue Bucket of Gold Live EP)
Bon Iver – “Blood Bank” (Blood Bank (10th Anniversary Edition) EP)
Joy Division – “Isolation” (Still)
Nirvana – “Come As You Are” (MTV Unplugged Live In New York)
Mark Kozelek – “I Watched The Film The Song Remains The Same” (Live At Biko)
The Civil Wars – “20 Years” (Unplugged on VH1)
Tom Waits – “Strange Weather” (Big Time)
Leonard Cohen – “Hey, That’s No Way To Say Goodbye” (Live At The Isle Of Wight 1970)
Iron & Wine – “The Trapeze Swinger” (Live At Third Man Records)
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds – “Push The Sky Away” (Live From KCRW)
The Replacements – “Unsatisfied” (For Sale: Live At Maxwell’s 1986)
Alkaline Trio – “Radio” (Past Live: Maybe I’ll Catch Fire)
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calvinlepesh · 5 years
Text
yes here you go
  Workcrew immediately for incompletion of the run is common for new kids and previous strugglers. Workcrew is named so because it makes u do nothing because u cant do something so instead of WORKing on something because u suck at that you literally work doing nothing. You have to work to keep yourself entertained. Work to keep yourself from going insane looking at that orange peel textured wall. Yikes. work to not fucking freeze too jesus fucking christ fuck whoever controlled the thermostat. just saying. Sure they didnt know or didnt care but fuck them for that. anyway. After the run you come inside go back to ur room if ur not on workcrew you chill for a few minutes while the chef is done cooking for the entire facility. Obvisouly being on wprl crew You dont eat whatever everyone else eats they work they get reward u no work no reward. oats and water and those fucking goddamn apples. fuck They're probably eating some kickass breakfest burrito or A nice blue berry muffin with yogurt. actually I know and still know the food schedule for breakfest and lunch for everyday of the week. It hardly change and very slightly if ever. So i knew what I could've been eating worst part about it is they eat literally inches from you. Your back facing them listening to them eat and salvate smelling all the condiments and fresh bacon. Waiting patiently for all the other students to finish their meals and wash their dishwear and go to their rooms only after do they. Give you your W/C meal. Oats and water fuck me. The worst part about it was after awhile I got so skinny that parker had me start eating a bowl of oatmeal with every meal this is when i was doing decently well but still being full of shit just not as much. But the worst part was I got 2 bowls of it while all other w/c got 1 And i started to even like it. Almost as if my taste buds had adapted over awhile to enjoy the oats. fuck those apples tho sometimes they were a 3 out of 10. best compliment I can give there sorry not sorry. anyway eat ur meal. its time for group. Group is when the entire facility all families and w/c and parker the director sit down commonly in a circle with parker in a chair and the students on the floor but before I left They had been consistently all in the life timechairs except parker who stood at the front of the main room with the students in a movie theatur like fashion without the leveled tiers obviously. but in order of w/c to family 1-5 so work crew being at the very front right feet from parker. During group we would review issues regarding anything and i mean anything wrong with the facility or the students and staff inside of it. It is encouraged and heavily peer supported to tell on each other and to work on themselves and not let anybody even other students or roomates get in your way. WORK ON YOURSELF by Sourrounding yourself with people on the same mission as you and who do the things to suggest they are going to continue to stay on that mission was a huge message that was pushed in a variety of ways at liahona. through team building exercises, group discussion and definitely confrontation. It is common for students to lash out when they're new. Probably cause they're from California and think these motherfuckers cant do shit to me im a minor. Think again, welcome to Southern buttfuck nowhere Literally sand mountains mars-looking Hurricane Utah. Body slam ur bitchass for acing outta line. Talking back blatent disrespect and obviously anything suggesting possilbe physical or verbal outbreak resulted in a restaint. Most staff would warn u like chill out orim gonna put u on the ground. And you'd get in trouble just for that. Sometimes even a little more secretly I think for not following through. but maybe not considering its a change in behavior. im sure it could be situational. Regardless. back to the story. group typically lasted an hour or so sometimes would watch a documentary afterwards sometimes even a movie however those became quite rare as the students or cycle in. Called generations of students. I was the last of my generation for a good amount of time towards the end of my stay at liahona. Depressing very much so. Watching people who go there a year after u graduate before you. U began to believe those insecurities more and more. and if you have struggle throughout your life with putting negative energy in the universe in the form of speech by conversion of energy to your body which is apart of the universe. i know alittle hard to follow but bear with me and try your best. After group you'd either get on or off of work crew based on how well u did at nothing and the little something u do such as workouts the morning run how u address staff members how even how frequent you use the bathroom to see if ur trying to get up. What was cool at Liahona was doing what you were told. being obiedient at all times immediately and when you do fuck up take the mistake and turn it into success instead of letting it slow you down as a failure. With such a poor mindset at Liahona especially towards the middle of my stay. I stayed at level 1 for 16 months. Probably a record not really a bragging thing tho. The point is I sucked at being a normal ass human. Full of attitude and was disobiedent with little to no respect given off the bat to any adult. Like I was the shit... When you're the shit you don't have the same problems that people who arent the shit have correct. So tying all the way back to the hospital metaphor with my secret broken leg. Honestly was probably secret to me as receiving the injuries throughout critical young developmental stages. I had alot of problems being honest because I was the shit and the shit wasnt supposed to be doing all this disgusting and sad. self demeaning outragous nasty stuff. thats all im gonna say. currently. im not ready to open up about my full past for i feel currently it lays at rest where it belongs until decieded otherwise by me. Now.. where were me. I was the shit. after coming out with stuff half assed in anattempt to still look kinda like the shit. they caught me on my bullshit and I spilled the beans. No longer was I the shit. I was shit. They broke me down emotionally. Making me write my story over and over again my entire life all the things I had ever done wrong. Each time I either came out with something new or changed something becasue everything I told my therapist was true but skewed and I lost track of my story. I had fucked myself and they gave me the rope to do it because they wanted me to earn my coniquences no have them given to me based on a hunch. I fucked myself. and unfortunately it was just he beginning for my emotional workouts. For the next two years. I trecked on. Fast forward july 2016 Im level 4 shadowing a new student with a level 3. us three since we are shadowing can talk in the room about rules only and how to teach them. while having our responsibilities with the quote aswell. at this point I could memorize anything. Memorized some crazy shit honestly wish that the content of the quote was more useful in a sense of remembering important things. or things that are commonly remembered by some idk. the point is we were aloud to talk about rules only. this didnt stay over time after me doing well getting to level fucking 4 this was huge for me and I had gotten comfortable and complacent in my position halting any further actions towards bettering myself everyday. exactly what they don't want you to do. We ended up flying our shadow solo which means hes a level one and we cant talk to him anymore and its cbo. basically hes in the big leagues now. But the level 3 and the other roommate who wasnt aloud to talk but was in the room while we shadowed the new student literally everyday for a month or two. And we all started breaking CBO together. basically we literally talked. about any and everything. Eventually getting comfortable doing that after a week or so couldnt have been too much longer than a week or two before guess who our same shadowed new student turns us in... Just like we had taught him to do. He was rewarded heavily. This was 1 july 2016. the 4th was parkers fav holiday does a shit ton of fun shit for everybody and everybody can talk water balloon fights watermelon eating contest hot dogs play basketball freely. fucking board games bro straight up. I had been at Liahona at this time for 2 about to be 3 Fourth of julys at Liahona and they just got better and better problem was I spent all 3 on work crew. top that off I spent all of July and into August on workcrew. It started off as suicide watch run risk and do nothing. literally as worse at it got. You can use the bathroom and sit in this chair. and you can sleep on this mattress with the fans and AC on with no blankets or pillows. So It stayed like that for  a week. Miserable completely miserable. I had finally started doing well got to level fucking four and im on work crew do nothing sui watch run risk and Ive been here for two years sleeping in the commons with no blanket or pillows shivering. Ill still never forget that day parker said I could choose to have a blanket or a pillow. FUCK U THINK? blanket. ez. I was literally giggling with joy that night under its warmth. That whole month slowly and slowly got increasingly easier on work crew and I didnt know why I was even still on It'd been a fucking month this was august 1st. The next day august 2nd 2016 Parker comes in and tells me im finally leaving. This was a really big day for me and brings to me currently some very strong emotions of relief and regret. For I hadn't completely wasted my time at Liahona but then again I typically in the past back then never completed anything. And honestly that is one of my bullshit things that I say to myself. and still have some belief in for good reason to gain perspective from it. Because unfortunately there are things in this world that are bad but also true. Thats just the way things work. There is good in bad and bad in good always. It may be hard to find or the pros out weigh the cons or vice versa. I see the bad, me not taking very good advantage at all of what Liahona had to offer for me at all times. However still gaining from it which is good aswell of course. But the bad being I did waste alot of my time. Now am I completely to blame for the duration of my time there. Yes because I made the decisions that led to me having to be there longer. honestly cause I needed to be there longer. Maybe a slight tiny bit of blame on my father for neglect to anextent of course when it came to life rules and making sure I know and remember them. But at the end of the day I kept myself on the wall and I have taken responsibility and if I havent i will now. I fucked up at liahona and I caused myself to be there for aslong as I was obviously not intentionally but for some reason. Cause I hated myself and nobody felt bad for me. I nolonger desire that attention. Because I know that If that attention is given to me in the quantity desired and by the form of attention inwhich idesired. Would inturn keep me immature as im hiding and nesting away from my feelings rather than pour them out and release the hate and sadness because its no good. it does no good besides grant perspective both to yourself and others. I never brag about giving to the homeless. Truly the reason I bring it up is because I may not have been homeless for very long or hadn't been homeless without atleast a couch or a garage to sleep in. But after enduring just that water down verison of being homeless. I know they need that damn money more than I do. Im not going to be unreasonable and give him everything I have on my card. but typically I give them at the minimum a cig if they want one and a conversation just cause people need to talk to people. whether they're drunk or not sad or happy talking turns our feelings into reality based on what you desire long term and short term almost combined in a way. You can switch up long term desires such as careers and lifestyles however it is not recommended. However also if you are still in a somewhat content mindset settling for like85 percent full on ur content scale. And this is what you need a little change up. Then by all means switch but keep the short term desires because those need to work first. Before you even decide what you want from life and ur existance ask yourself am I happy? If you are not atleast somewhat content with who you are an individual currently. You need to follow what I told you earlier. You need to dig deep in your heart and soul and mind. Focus on the center of your chest. thats where i feel my soul communicate to me. And i search it with my mind sending inquizitive thoughts to it for its response. Your body is a rosetta stone in a way for literal human communication (speech) and the vibrations of the universe. And vice versa. your body picks up things from the universe and world that it tells u. Maybe gut feelings? Hunches? A strong feeling for no reason??? EVERYTHING HAS A REASON. And if it isn't this than prove it to me. It proves itself and you can try it for yourself. Find contentment in your preplanned manifestation that we call "The Universe" by recognizing both your current insignificance in the real world possibly currently or maybe never; never in your mind atleast. But also your significance in how much control you have just because of what fucking species you are and all the things you can learn. Know you have significance because this is your world and you already chose how your life is going to end. What will last for you what won't. Because somebody (you u idiot) set it up to happen that way. Say you think im full of shit and just crazy. Let me ask you.... Lets just say for shits and giggles then, that you are God/ superior being so to speak. And you created everything we have ever known. Planets, plants, rocks .people communication, every conversation. EVERY FUCKING EVERYTHING WAS MADE BY YOU. so with that in mind given that and the vast amount of knowledge that comes with some power.literally unimaginable because we cant EVEN FUCKING COMPREHEND it.  ie You as God know that all good must have evil. So you realize large world thats actually rather small in comparison to alot of other fucking planets. Maybe it makes some people feel inferior maybe it turns people towards hate. But you decieded we're going to make a little safe haven whenthis random motherfucker wants to see if the world is flat. Killed all the indians. negative. USA positive. Rev war possibly hardcore karma for killing indians unlikely but it always is anyways. we win rev war Now we are free. Put Lepesh in free nation in 1999. He reconizes the power of the mind body and soul combined in the trinity. And wants to spread the message that you too can be happy. the suffering can end. Ive been diagonosed with depression add adhd odd ocd ptsd abcd u fucking name it. And they made a killing off of my parents. Granted I was a very problematic child so they started taking me in at a young age. over time with people telling me whats wrong with me. Yeah ima tell them to fuck off cause Im living the life i want to live. I may not know the consiquences are for me choosing to live like such. But I will and When I do I will weild that power given to me in knowledge and spread to you my wisdom. Speech isnt the only way to manifest things into your reality. Any human contact that can be described by and spoken with our apparently primitive words of any language. YOU MUST MEAN HOW YOU FEEL  Currently this is my world and universe because I value very few things about myself in the grand scheme of everything. Given that wouldn't I want the one thing I value a great deal to succeed and fulfill his dreams and have a goodass life? So thats what this mindset program will do. Others will use it becuase their kids are driving them up the walls and they just can't do it anymore. They're about to throw in the towel and don't know what to do anymore. Maybe its for somebody looking for love and they need to realize that u literally must love urself first. You cannot give what you donot already have. Unless you promiss to give which is an entire other problem in itself given that you can never give the love you want to give because you must find it for yourself by dedicating large amounts of time to yourself over time which you cannot do if ur constantly giving your feeling of infatuation and potential 'promise love' IE I promise you one day Ill love you but right now I cant cause I dont love myself. But I promise I will love myself but u wont. U simply wont. Until you learn your worth which by the fucking way bro. straight the fukc up listen. By the way. you decide your worth. The way you decide to change your worth is by finding the opposing core belief about urself the angelic side the white fluffy this is who I truly am side. The I wanna die fuck everything not even worth it this world isnt worth bringing anybody into is bullshit. However nesscessary for a short period for perspective and experiential sake. Bullshit. You manifested bullshit told to you over time in different ways. almost like taking pieces of gum out from underneath tables accorss every resturant you go through for example ur entire life. making a big ball of gross bullshit told to you in the forms of verbal abuse sexual physical. just bullshit. Best thing about bullshit is that it is always bad. The only good in the bad of bullshit is that it give great perspective and it helps this rant lol. Anyways, Realize that angelic force you hold and listen to your mind and heart tell you what you already know. and put it into action by reminding yourself about it as much as possible until its all you really think about. You'll notice key changes in yourself. Keep in mind these some of these effects happened immediately some over time some after forgetting my worth some during forgetting my worth.For myself after finding myself again focusing on the bullshit that isnt true. Radical difference in hesitation to speak to people. and to even what im going to speak. I used to care about everything and project that I care about nothing. It was fucking stupid sad and pretty pathetic actually. very sad now that I think about it. Pretending almost in a way. Sag my pants wear dark and almost shady clothing. ears pierced, quit sports, smoke weed, everything to say I don't give a fuck about anything at all ever and never will. I did it and said it. Of course with periods of absolute disbelief and saddness for I knew the whole time I was living a bullshit fabricated lie that directly stemmed from my self esteem issues and uncertainty in myself and the universe. Im very grateful for my current state of being however unsober. very very helpful and a clear message from myself that I believe I know what I need to do. Or what I want to do. But how? Im not worried about why because Its impossible and highly unlikely that the reason presents itself so early. And so it has before but many a few times and such a long time inbetween instances its almost radical to gamble on such things. Might aswell waste my time doing jack shit sitting on the fucking wall for no reason. Im going to end this in the same fashion I started it to an extent. Unexpected and unrehearsed and will summarize in steps how use this Mindset Program I designed to help those capable enough to over come depression and treat general unhappiness with the combined power of your heart mind and soul. Idk but i wasnt specifically planning on making a book for financial gain although it was a large contributing factor. and I as I sit here and think about what I typed it doesn't matter. Because regardless of what happens I wanted it to so it will in the exact way I want it to effect me. if at all idk if i will lol. Crazy man lifes a trip. I need money and i dont deserve it but I can say confidently currently right this moment I would spend my money according to what I desire in the long term. And it would help me start that journey so I may learn more. and continue to better myself as an individual everyday. or  at the very least do something that shows im a good person. In this world you have to keep your guard up not always but typically a great majority of the time. Given that, it's not hard to see why nobody trusts anybody on anything anymore. For a long time and still to this day a vast majority of humans have and will continue to act good but do bad consistently. They have simply been worshiping there bullshit thoughts. The best thing you can do for such a person who has potentially lost all hope. Or is on that path or near the end of it. Let that person know you love them. Only do so if you mean what you say tho. If you mean the words and they are looking at you when you say it. They will straight the fuck up feel your love. Might not be a fucking serotonin shot but its a little love that they will feel and remind them. Its never too late to change your mindset and find empathy for yourself and the world. Here are the current Finalized step by step instructions on how to use my newly developed highly successful Mindset Program. Guarenteeed to bring about contentment and feelings of joy to those who complete and follow these steps completely... 1.)FIRST OFF DO NOT READ THIS SHIT IF YOU AREN'T OPEN-MINDED OR YOU'LL NEVER HAVE THE OPPORTUNITY TO LEARN IT AGAIN, WAIT UNTIL YOU GET YOURSELF ATLEAST SOMEWHAT UNDERCONTROL.2.)EMPATHY Either Already have or Develop a very hardcore understanding and knowledge of empathy by having gratitude through perspective that you must gain. Gaining perspective can happen in a number of ways. The misfortunate are a great way to lead you to happiness. By giving away your money need it or not. who needs it more. and what are they spending it on. If you were homeless outside in january wouldnt you want to be drunk? you were gonna buy a steak and lobster dinner that night anyway even if you didnt have the 10$ cash you gave to Michael by the dumpster. That inturn puts you indebt in a way to the universe. Almost saying this guy will get something good from this at some point in his life. Could be your friend buying your next meal or an invitation to a crazy party. who knows and who knows when its going to happen. we don't the beauty of it is that you know its coming in some shape or form. infact it might have already paid its debt by making you feel better when you did it???? Put yourself in less fortunate peoples shoes. Take acid as much as you can within reason obviously you don't wanna end up fried as fuck. But definitely trip balls man go learn about yourself and the world. Acid is a key to more knowledge. You swim in it but its like trying to bring water (the knowledge) with you when you get out of the pool. You can never even get close to obtaining all of that knowledge. I just needed enough to know that my life isn't completely fucking worthless cause I truly can control my life and you can control yours. Is so empowering to see it happen first hand. To see success finally coming and showing itself after all this time. The worst part is I knew all of this shit long ago. I was told this stuff in Liahona and They knew we didn't fully get it yet. Now I get it. Finally. wtf. I can control my own life.3.)SEARCH YOUR SOUL WITH YOUR MIND. Literally ask yourself questions like a literal one sided conversation. Ask yourself. What do I desire in my life most? For me? Wife car house maybe a farm cat dog fucking dont care whatever she wants the house to look like. two cars actually. I want a boat. and a stable well paying job and some kickass kids. When do I want it to happen. I decided that before I was here. Because I was apart of the aliens maybe idk lol just a thought. Maybe they let me choose they were like yo man this is where ur coming into this planet. they're dumb but think they're really smart and theres lots of chaos they're pretty bad animals i know its a bad gig to send you into but if you like what you can make happen go for it. I wouldn't come into this world unless I knew that things would work out for me at some point. and idk if today is the day but ive realized again what I had already realized but soon forgotten about over a month after. Either from complacentcey or just down right bad memory. Either way I forgot the path and Now I am back.4.)YOU ARE LOOKING FOR THE GOOD IN THE BAD AND THE BAD IN THE GOOD For example, for me my bads are so seldom compared to what some people across the universe go through on a daily basis. I have it so good already. Now compared to the rest of my country.. yeah Im not doing very well financially or on some of the selfs. I have the mental capcity and emotional knowledge and strength currently developed from years of deep depression and sadness. Drug abuse and wanting to be numb. Wanting to die or hurt myself. Here I am reconizing the bad in my life the symptoms of listening and believing other peoples bullshit. Reconizing that the bullshit isnt true and was never true. sometimes reconizing a genreal date that you remember yourself starting to believe what people bullshit to you about yourself. Maybe you remember how you felt about yourself before someone called you fat or ugly or hurt u in some way. Remember previous relationships that have cut u deep over time and may even hurt a bit to think about. Remember the fighting and bullshit. But most importantly remember the good times. Ive caught myself many times forgetting the numerous good times had with previous loved ones in almost a desperate attempt to save yourself. Its a protection tactic that completely stops any and all emotional grow. The only way you get stronger is if you do the work. Just like at the gym the only way you get a ripped ass chest or a 6 pack is by doing the fucking work and lifting it. There is no short cut that is worthwhile longterm. Roids give you boobs and shrink ur balls now ur shot on the kids Idea cause u tried to take a shortcut. Same with emotions. using heroin was a big thing for me for awhile i was at a point where I knew it was stopping me from growing emotionally. Because it doesn't allow you to feel anything. you feel numb you don t care. when I took heroin I felt like I really was who I said I was. I overdosed a few months ago and died onheroin. started using again a couple days later. I stopping in November and id be lying if I said it wasnt brutal. so sure I tried to numb the pain with other things. Alcohol is a big one coke, meth, lots and lots of weed, anything that would or could alter my mind besides heroin is what Ive been doing.  Now none of these things are beneficial in the long term except for weed and acid maybe coke if the universe allows it. The opportunity that you desire would not present itself to you without you first creating the desire. I have a desire for drugs. So I have drugs. But Im at the very least smart enough to realize that heroin is if not a complete block of emotions pretty damn fucking close to it. which allows for significantly less emotion growth through the actual feeling of your feelings and emotions. Another big thing that can help is talking about what you discovered about yourself all the bullshit you believed and the statements you have in place to replace them. My previous statement for example Im a fucking loser thats never going to amount to shit. My angelic statement, I've made many mistake and failures in my life at a young age that I wouldn't trade for the world for they have development me into me. You've made it this far havent you?5.) USE YOUR TRINITY TO TAKE CONTROL OF YOUR LIFE STARTING BY FINDING WHAT WORKS FOR YOU TO HAVE A CONSTANT REMINDER. Basically this means find a way to take your new angelic statement created from the good inside the bad and either associate that statement to whatever you see best fit. For example. I have an alarm in the morning that reads! Choose to be happy! with some other notes aswell. And I read that I think to myself. Its a choice. I can use my mind to change my reality over time based on how I feel. I DONT HAVE TO BE SAD ANYMORE BECAUSE I HAVE THE DESIRES IN MY LIFE THAT PULL ME TOWARDS THEM THROUGH MY DECISIONS AND ACTIONS CURRENTLY.
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