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chorusofkhonshu · 7 months

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Noone was going to die.

Mostly I made this because I guess people on some platforms were saying Noone was wrong for going with the Ferryman or that she should have stayed with Otto. So I guess I made this to inform that, no, she could not have stayed with Otto. Well she could have, maybe, but she would have died shortly after. She made the best possible choice to survive when she didn't know it at the time, and here's why. In the first episode she is already ill, she survived the water sickness but still has these lingering headaches. We even get told that the flower that she got from her parents died that morning as well. Get to that soon. Following the first episode Noone's condition slowly deteriorates more and more. The headaches get stronger, she starts to scratch behind her ear. The EEG machines hurt her head as well, she doesn't like the way they feel, a burning sensation in her head growing stronger and stronger. Then along comes episode 4 where near the end of the episode she starts to react violently to whatever happened to her at the end of the nightmare. Episode 5, back to that flower I mentioned earlier. Otto gets her an exact replacement to the one her parents got her. This is where we find out what kind of flower was given to her by her parents. That flower being a Chrysanthemum. In different parts of the world these flowers have many different meanings depending on their color. However it seems to be in Europe for the most part that these flowers are for gravesides or mourning the dead regardless of color. If this wasn't important they wouldn't have bothered mentioning the type of flower. Finally the last episode. There is a time jump of 2 or 3 days. Otto says so. Noone vanished again, this time a whole night, reappearing at sunrise in the south wing of the institute. She was then confined for two days. When Otto goes to see her, I can only assume she is in a haggard state because A. her illness has progress further and B. While she is scared to sleep, she still wants to and has presumably been trying to sleep, she says the nurse keeps interrupting her, the fire in her head hurting now more than ever. She's been kept awake for two days and nights, not allowed to sleep. Her stomach is also hurting yet Otto forces her to eat the sleep inducing candy. He does not want to wait for her to sleep and needs her to be in a deep sleep. You know the rest, she goes to Nowhere. My conclusion? Everyone one knew she was going to die. Her parents, probably other doctors before coming to Otto, he's a psychologist I guess so it makes sense for him not to find out until he sent her up for radiology. This is why her parents come to see her even once! They are bad parents, this is why her disappearance will be swept under the rug. Everyone expects her to die! They used to live in a crappy apartment but moved into a rich house, probably because of money they got when Noone was pronounced a survivor of the "water sickness" as she was paraded around on television to show the world there is a cure. How do you think that would look if the kid you paraded around as cured just up and died? That the cure was a lie? If the water sickness is a huge pandemic if could even be the case that the government is involved, silencing everything to prevent the truth that no cure exists. Her going to Nowhere was the only choice she had. I don't think Otto knew she was dying, mostly because he is blinded by the pursuit of the Ferryman. But this was her only chance to continue living. Listen, if it was me and I had the choice between staying in our world and going to Nowhere, I'd stay here. Now if I'm dying? You best believe I'm taking my chances in Nowhere.

#little nightmares #the sounds of nightmares #noone #tson #tson noone #tson otto #little nightmares theory

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allexiaah · 2 years

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i don’t think i can ever forgive anyone who didn’t wear a mask or vaccinate or take covid seriously after all of this shit not going to lie. after just now realizing i’ve lost two years to it. Two years of being a person, or going out and doing things I should’ve been doing as a kid free of responsibilities with other kids, and doing what little you even CAN do in a world where you can’t do jack shit without money. I already sat in front of a computer screen for way too long every day. Feel like I should still be in my second semester of high school after all of this. Don’t feel like I should’ve aged at all. I’m not good with memories in the first place (which is why i’m always taking pictures), and covid only made it worse. past two years have been a haze.

I don’t remember almost anything that happened, even when i think really hard about something i KNOW is there but can’t recall. I’m lucky if I remember it when someone else jogs my memory for me, even. I don’t remember good times spent with friends, or going for walks outside, or even a fuckton of school at all. I don’t feel like there are even years there, but there are and I can’t get them back. Time was already hard for me to grasp, but now I don’t know when I’ve done anything, and it fuckin hurts. it hurts. I feel

And now we’re getting Harmful Affliction 2: Monkeypox Edition, and nobody’s fucking taking it seriously! There’s no shortage of kids and teens like me who’ve lost a significant chunk of their lives, by the time they’re around old enough to go to school, to a pandemic, and are just now needing to walk into the world and know what the fuck they’re doing.

how is that okay? how is ANY of it okay?? How did nobody think for one fucking second about how much this would fuck us up? How did we not think this would last for years seeing the atrocious lack of action from ANYONE? How are we supposed to brush all of this off? there are kids in their developmental years who don’t know how to communicate because we haven’t been anywhere near each other for 2 years! except for, y’know, the pieces of shit who just COULDN’T FATHOM that and were the reason anyone with half a mind or any care for others at ALL were kept at home for years! I’m a now-adult with social anxiety that came LONG before covid, and probably has origins in a cult i was raised in for no shortage of time as a kid, but it’s been too long for me to know for sure. But this shit PREDATED covid for me. I can’t imagine there’s a lack of people who’ve lost literal YEARS of their lives to this and who don’t know how to pick up the pieces anymore or how they’re supposed to get better.

I don’t think I can ever describe to someone the kind of lonely and horrible it was to simply sit in the doorway to my room with a plate of food left outside my door or handed to me by family wearing masks just like I did any time I left it, listening to the rest of my family sing happy birthday to my sister at the dinner table downstairs, seeing the light from the dining room and a little bit of my mother from the doorway and nothing more, trying to sing along through a mask so I didn’t get anything in the air. I don’t think I can describe the kind of miserable it was to sit there with a birthday dinner that I couldn’t even taste, that had to be delivered because nobody was allowed to leave the house. I fucking RUINED my sister’s birthday, and it’s not like I went to a party or anything, or went out. It’s not even like it’s my fault. I went to school, I went home. I didn’t have much of a social life anyway. Transit or the school itself gave me covid. Even sanitizing and washing my hands after touching everything I could, and wearing a mask I never pulled down, not in class or ever, and doing the best i could? I still caught it. Even doing the best you can ask a human to do, I caught it. I can’t put into words how agonizing it was to be confined to one room for WEEKS, unable to leave for anything except to use the washroom across the hall. If you don’t think it’s that big of a deal? Try it yourself and see how long you can do it.

Back when they actually cared and still did close contact lists and all that, the person on the phone didn’t believe me when I told them I don’t go out. That I didn’t party or go out to see friends or go ANYWHERE outside of school. According to my mom, the person on the phone was in enough disbelief to ask HER after I said the exact same thing.

We’ve been living in a hell of ignorance’s creation for years now, and might be for years in the future, Or maybe we’re just not living at all. I feel like both apply.

I wish I could have those two years back, but i can’t have that. And it’s not even my fault that my friends and I can’t have them.

#allex rambles #vent #personal #please dont rb this lol #im just #god #was talking to my friend luna last night and remembering that i used to feel alive in spite of how horrible my depression was #and how school was. and how it all made it worse #what was usually on my mind was not knowing what the fuck im living for #and STILL i felt more alive then than i have in the past 2 years #It makes me want to cry and scream and throw shit #how was i supposed to feel like a kid when i was locked up for the past 2 years?#how am i supposed to feel like an adult now when I didn't get the opportunities i should've had or was too scared to kill myself or #my family with a virus that was fully capable of it to take advantage of those opportunities?#i already have shitty memory. that on its own terrifies me #i take photos of everything i do to try and keep a date and an image of the stuff i go out of my way to have fun doing.#because if i don't i'm terrified i'll forget.#knowing im forgetting mundane things and its like i might not have done them at all?#that it might be getting worse?#that's so fucking scary.#im only realizing now just how fucked up everything's been. i think i pushed it all back to cope at the time #and im only letting myself grieve and feel horrible now that i'm out of school and can afford to while im looking for a job #fuckssake.

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messyworldxx · 1 year

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Echoes of Memories: Transition of Pandemic Life to New Normal

I thought 2020 was going to be as planned, yet, it was a year full of surprises and unplanned happenings. February 4, 2020, I gave birth to a beautiful baby boy named Arch Gabriel.

I was 19 that time and everything was new to me. Of course, as a first time mom, everything was overwhelming. I didn’t have a mom who could teach me things.

March 14,2020, there was news that there has been a virus called Corona Virus and needed to lock everything down for a week. Students and some are very happy because of course, no classes and work. But, there were lots of COVID cases and the lockdown needed to be extended. Everyone was curious, and kind of worried because people were not able to work and didn’t have money to support their everyday needs.

(ctto)

Meanwhile, I was recovering from giving birth and still getting used to being a mom and having a baby who is completely dependent on me. I was not able to go out for quite a while already and started to get very irritated with everything. Small things affected my mood big time and I cannot control how I react over things. Waking up every 2 hours to feed and change Arki’s diaper was getting exhausting for me. Washing the clothes, cleaning the house, and feeling imprisoned inside our house started to take away my happiness. I didn’t understand why I was acting that way when my one true dream since elementary came true, to become a mom. It was a long term dream of mine since I never had a mom growing up, I wanted to make my child feel and experience everything that I didn’t.

The news started to make me scared and anxious about everything. I was cleaning the house twice a day, washing my hands every hour and was very scared to go out. Mostly, I was scared that I was going to lose everyone due to the COVID outbreak. My father and I were always open about things. He was there when I could not control my tears and started crying non-stop. I did not sleep for three straight days because I was so scared that someone was going to die. I called Papa while crying, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t even speak and figured out the main reason why I was acting that way. Papa was very worried and kept on asking me what was happening until that same day, my OB Gynecology doctor told me that I might be experiencing Postpartum Depression. According to her, moms, especially the first time ones, mostly experience Postpartum Depression and it highly affects the mood of mothers.

I guess, having to spend a month inside our house without seeing anyone other than my baby made me feel like I was alone all throughout my journey of being a mom. Since that day, my Papa has become my comfort. Every time I feel like crying without any reason, I’ll just call him and he makes me feel comfortable and calm every time.

Fast forward to December of 2020, I was starting to get used to the routine of being a mom and having to stay inside the house due to COVID. Until, my aunt or godmother got sick unexpectedly and needed to be confined at Westlake Hospital. She had an infection with her blood and after a week, she died. She was my Papa’s first cousin and one of my favorite people. She was one of my second mothers and her death made me feel very sad. I was crying for a week and starting to ask God why it happened. I was questioning Him why my godmother, Ninang JJ, died. The thought of death scares me until today. It was 2 days after Christmas when she died, t’was the saddest holiday that I ever experienced. My Papa comforted me the whole time and explained to me that death doesn’t mean she left me, she will always be there looking over me. Until holidays passed, everything was starting to go back to normal, although we were still sad about the sudden passing of my godmother, we are now able to spend a day without crying.

My son, Archy, started learning new things, and babbling words like Mommy and Daddy. The experience of being a mother still excites me until now. His little achievements make me feel very proud. Yet, I still feel like there was a void inside me, my achiever self. I miss the achiever, studious, and active Nicole. I asked my Papa if I could go back to school. My father asked me to get my records and enrolled me again. I was very happy and thanked everyone, especially him.

It was a hot afternoon, the same day, when my stepmom called me and asked me to go to our house because apparently my father was having a high blood attack and didn’t want to go to hospital. She also asked me to buy medicine and I immediately left our house and went to the nearest pharmacy. It was the longest tricycle ride that I ever experienced. I felt like the time was so slow and it took a while for me to reach our house though it was just 5 minutes away. When I reached our house, I saw my father laying on the bed and he said “Oh, bakit ka nandito?” I said “Ayaw mo raw kasi magpadala sa hospital, halika na, hindi ka naman i-confine doon, para lang hindi na tayo kinakabahan.” He said okay and when he got up, he couldn't stand at all and I was very shocked. He was also mumbling the words when he spoke so I already knew that it was Stroke. I drove the car and we brought papa to the nearest hospital which is Evangelista Hospital. When we got there, everything was so fast. He got his CT scan and the doctors found out that there was bleeding on one part of his brain that is connected to his vital organs. He needed to be confined in the ICU, but since it was COVID the ICU was full during that time. The nurse set up an ICU at the emergency room. We were calling hospitals, hoping there would be a vacancy at their ICU, but there was none. We accepted the fact that he will be staying at the emergency room.

That night, April 28,2022, the doctor said he needed to be intubated because his oxygen is dropping already and I was the only one allowed to make decisions since I am already at the legal age and my mom was not there. I am an only child and came from a broken family, grew up with my Papa and we endured everything together. I asked the doctor if it was the only option and he said yes, so I signed the waiver and they intubated Papa. He was awake when he got intubated and I could hear him in pain during the procedure. I was praying and asking the Lord to comfort him. After that, I went to him and said “Papa, sorry ha? ‘Yan nalang daw kasi ang only option kaya ako nag yes. Laban tayo, Papa ha?” He couldn't react with his face but his foot was swaying back and forth and I knew that he was listening. My stepmom and I continuously assured him that we are there with him. I needed to go home because I needed to feed and prepare Archy for tomorrow since I knew that I would not be able to take care of him since Papa is in the hospital. I told Papa that I’ll be back. When I got back, the doctor was there checking on him. He was having a fever and about to have a heart attack when the doctor told me that he is now brain dead or comatose. He had no reactions and his body was withdrawing the medications that were given to him. The doctor’s exact words were “Sa sobrang critical po ni daddy, baka hindi na siya umabot mamayang hapon.” That exact moment I couldn’t feel anything at all. The doctor asked me if they will revive Papa if ever his heartbeat goes flat and I said no. Papa always wanted to have a peaceful death and no electricity at all. I immediately called our family and asked them to go there because of Papa’s condition. I went to Papa and whispered in his ears, “ Papa, hindi na po kita pinarevive ha? Alam ko nakikinig ka ngayon at alam ko na alam mo na mahal na mahal kita. Ikaw na po ang bahala, huwag mo ako alalalahanin kasi pinalaki mo ako na matapang, kaya ko ‘to.” A tear fell down on his left eye and I knew that he was still there, listening. I knew my Papa was listening to me that time, he was still with us. I couldn’t cry that time. All I could think about was I needed to be strong because Papa needs me. My aunts and uncles came and they bid their goodbyes to Papa one by one. When his last sibling bid her goodbye, his heartbeat went 5, 10, 15, but never flat. My other aunt said, “Kuya, okay na. Pahinga ka na, sino ba inaalala mo? Si Nicole, kami na ang bahala sa kaniya, hindi namin siya papabayaan.” After my aunt spoke the last word, his heartbeat went flat. I froze, it seemed like everything stopped. That exact moment, the only thing that was running in my mind was I am now alone.

I lost Papa, he left. He died. I hugged him until the St. Peter's staff came to get his body. I still can’t believe that he died. I couldn’t feel anything during that time. Honestly, I was in denial and when I saw him inside the coffin for the first time, I still cannot feel anything. I needed to sign papers for the funeral and such, I have a lot on my plate since I was the only one allowed to. People came and I was surprised to see that he had a lot of friends and people who loved him so dearly. Papa was the kindest person I knew but also the most introverted person. I did not expect that he would have a lot of friends. Everyone was saddened by his passing. I couldn't sleep that night, it felt so unreal. The second day of his burial, I kept on looking at him, making myself believe that it’s really him inside the coffin. Second night was the last night and that was the time that I cried. I cried very much because thinking that it would be the last night that I would get to spend with the person who became my anchor for 19 years, my person, my best friend, the person who never got tired of me, the only person who kept encouraging me and believing in me, My Papa. I cried non- stop and I kept calling him, asking him to wake up. The next day, everyone was very busy preparing for the funeral and I was there still crying. When we were at the cemetery and about to say our last goodbyes to Papa, I was really crying and shouting. It felt like my heart was going to explode because of what I was feeling. I lost my person, he is now gone and I cannot see him forever. That thought killed me, and it will always leave an empty space inside my heart.

After that happened, everything never went back to normal. I still cry about him until today, remembering him and how he loved me so much still makes me miss him very much. I was so mad at my mom that time because she never came, even a glimpse, she did not say sorry to Papa for everything that she did. She was not there for me. I was all alone with Archy, my son. I kept asking God, “why me?” Why do I have to endure all this pain? What did I do wrong for Him to do all of these to me? I was so mad and felt like everyone was going to leave me. I pushed everyone away. It was still pandemic, so I used that time to isolate myself from everyone. I promised myself not to put myself back to that situation again wherein someone will leave me and I’ll feel broken and lost. As a result, I isolated myself.

Not until my 20th Birthday, May 16, 2021, my family greeted me and asked me if I would like to celebrate my birthday with Papa at the cemetery since it’s been almost a month since he died. I said yes, and started asking for help. I told them that I was not feeling well like I used to before. I told them about my thoughts, and my aunt who is in Canada asked me if I want to get checked by a Psychiatrist. At first, it was hard for me to say yes since I was in denial and I told myself that I am okay and I can do everything on my own. But then, my aunt said, “Hindi naman dahil nagpa-check ka ay baliw ka. You are okay and what you’re feeling is valid. You just need help to overcome those feelings kasi para sa anak mo rin at sarili mo. Archy needs you.” That was my wake up call, my son needs me. He needs a mom and I remembered my forgotten promise to never abandon my son and make him feel alone like what my mom did to me. All my life, I continuously lose the people that I love and because of that, I always felt like every time there is someone who genuinely loves and cares for me, they’ll also leave one day. I always felt like something bad was going to happen and that made me feel very anxious about my environment. The doctor prescribed me a sleeping pill which will help me sleep every time I can't. She also referred me to a counselor and the counselor asked me to write everything that I feel including my thoughts down to a notebook, and I did. I wrote everything from the anger that I am feeling for my mom, that I get scared that someone I love will leave again, that I felt alone since Papa died, that I still blame and doubt myself because of the decisions that I made when he was still in the hospital, that I question God why He is doing these things to me. I wrote everything down then I burned it.

After that, I realized like I never had to endure all the pain alone, I have people who continuously believe in me aside from Papa, I have Archy who needs and looks up to me. Then, I realized that everything has its purpose. Papa always wanted me to go back to school and after he settled my school fees, he died. Maybe, that was his last mission here on Earth. Second, I got pregnant early maybe because God knew that I needed someone whom I can hold on to and that will keep me going because Papa will die earlier than expected, and that’s my son, Archy. Everything that is happening around us has their own purposes and we should never question the Lord. I excelled at my subjects and joined competitions that I enjoy while also working at night and being a mom 24/7. The COVID virus is still in the Philippines together with its new variants, yet, the cases are slowly getting controlled and slowly getting back to normal. We are now allowed to go to malls, buy groceries without the need of a quarantine pass, but still need to be cautious with our actions since there is still a virus everywhere. I still miss Papa, but the thought of him being with Jesus without the feeling of any worry, pain, etc. makes me happy. I am indeed proud that he raised a strong, independent, and brave woman.

Looking back, maybe the reason why I needed to go through all the pain is for me to learn, discover, be stronger, and strengthen my faith with the Lord. I never knew that I could move on from all of the pain that I endured. However, thinking about what happened during the 2 years lockdown, everything was so fast. While the state of our country is going back to its normal routine before pandemic, the lessons that the COVID virus taught me are unforgettable. I really enjoy being a mom of a 2 years old beautiful baby boy, Archy. I am having fun being the Vice President Internal of a wonderful organization. I love working for my company. Lastly, I am enjoying the journey of being me. Life may not be perfect, yet it has a lot of lessons to learn. I may not have everything that I want, but I have all that I need. I may not get the highest grades in class, but there are lots of things that I am grateful for. I may not be the perfect mother, but my son is growing beautifully.

The pandemic may have left us with emptiness, broken hearts, painful memories, but it also left us with realizations and lessons that other situations can not. While things are slowly getting better, I will never forget how this pandemic changed my life. The pain is still here, especially the pain of losing Papa, but I know that slowly, everything will get better.

This is Nicole Aubrey Canarias. A mom, daughter, grandchild, niece, employee, student, and fighter. I survived throughout and I know that I always will. I will end this essay with a quote that I read in a book. It says, “I am not afraid of storms, for I am learning how to sail my ship.” Every challenge is an opportunity to learn and grow. Life is full of storms; it is your response to each storm that determines where you eventually end up. Keep on fighting, love. Life goes on and there are lots of things to be grateful for.

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darkandcurious · 1 year

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Story 2: When death says “Hi” (A True Story)

Note: This story was first published in audio form. Listen to it on Spotify or on Youtube.

Hello, Darlings I'm Willow, and you’re reading the Dark and Curious Blog.

How’s your Halloween celebration been this year? The COVID-19 pandemic is far from over. I hope you don’t let your guard down and you’re still keeping yourselves healthy and safe.

I know many of you miss the festivities, especially during these months. I am not fond of parties, but I like that the All Hallows’ Eve spirit still lives on. To be honest, I’m more excited about Halloween than any other holiday we have. Even more than my birthday

While I sit and think about what could have been without the pandemic, something reminds me that death lurks around the corner. I decided to share my personal experience because no one knows when death will come to take us away. This might not be as scary as you expect it to be. But as someone who experienced it and realized things could have turned out differently, I was afraid, or in this case, I was afraid for my life.

Please know that my parents retold the following events. Still, the experience I’ve had is all from what I remember. And this is how it began…

It happened during the early ’90s when I spent much time in my pediatrician’s clinic because of constant re-infection in my respiratory tract. To make the story short, I was a sickly child back then. My parents thought I was just clumsy and couldn’t sit still because, you know, I was just a kid. We didn’t know what was wrong with me. But I recently learned that I had a rare condition called Sydenham Chorea, affecting children in developing countries like the Philippines.

Anyway, it all started when I was six years old. My involuntary movements became so excessive, and my health was rapidly declining. So my parents decided to have me checked by a specialist. I spent much time confined in the University of Santo Tomas Hospital. We live in the province, so the hospital served as my “home away from home”. The doctors already knew my family and me because we had stayed there for so long. I knew it was hard for my parents to see me that way. The hospital bills that kept piling up even made it worse. At that time, I had no clue that my dad had to sell his firearm so we’d have money for the bills and the rest of our expenses. It was rather costly, but we had no choice.

It got so bad that I had to be taken to the Intensive Care Unit. The infection led to a cardiac complication that had to be treated immediately. And that’s when things worsened— I had a 50% chance to live and a 50% chance that I wouldn’t make it. Of course, I didn’t know this then. The only thing I remember was that I had a vivid dream in the middle of the chaos we were in. It was so vivid that I heard the night sounds, I could smell the familiar scent of our house, and could see my siblings sleeping soundly. I was surprised I was home and walking around the house that night.

I remember that my youngest sister likes sleeping alone on the bed. So when she was awoken by something (which I didn’t know what), she cried and pushed grandma away, who was then sleeping beside her. Grandma, who was as surprised as my sister, blurted out, “Oh, why don’t you want me here?!!”, still reeling from waking up suddenly.

That seemed odd. Why would Grandma sleep beside my sister? My grandparents live in their own house. It was even more strange that my mom and dad were not there. They were with me through it all.

But It’s just my grandmother and my siblings. I tried to talk to my sister, telling her to stop crying. But she wouldn’t stop. And my dream suddenly ended. I woke up still in my hospital bed and hospital gown—that’s when I knew that I didn’t come home. Or so I thought.

When I woke up, I told my mom I dreamed about home, Nanay, and my siblings.

Since I’ve had that dream, I believed it was just that. A dream. Little did I know that all this time, that event took place while I was fighting for dear life.

#out of body experience #creepystories #scary stories #halloween #philippinehorror #horror stories #true story

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teacherintransition · 2 years

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The Four Wisemen, a Pub, a Cigar, a Drink and Conversation.

Everyone knew a fifth wiseman would be perfect…

…he left us today.

I’ve shared many anecdotal stories of my experiences, struggles and adjustments to a satisfying life of retirement. As recounted, it’s not always been easy; change never is a piece of cake. There’s tweaking of expenses, there’s structure to the day with not too much structure to defeat retirement’s purpose and drawing up the courage to pursue dreams that HAD been put on hold. For the most part, as I approach the two year anniversary of the transition, I feel that life has been good. Drawbacks? Yeah, there have been a few, this biggest being the diminished social contact. This is an obstacle if you’re a people person…let me qualify that little descriptor… people of a like mind people person. Unless you’re a lump incapable of making the above mentioned adjustments, you can venture forth Cowboy and find such folks. We are there, we just hide in plain site a littler better….like ninjas. True, the pandemic kept us isolated far, too damn long for anybody except your friendly neighbor hood sociopath; c’mon, we’ve all got one. Slowly, but surely a network of brilliant, charming, eclectic and eccentric folks were gathered.

Some retirees find interaction doing volunteer work and to those folks, I raise my drink to you. Mmmmmm, not my bag really; I pretty much did charity work all thirty years of my career as a public school teacher. I’m happy reading, painting, writing, walking, spending time with my canine companions, drinking, smoking a cigar and waxing philosophic with my ever dwindling circle of friends. Though those that remain are of the highest quality and caliber I assure you. While living in Alexandria, I was a resident guest of one of the finest pubs I’ve had the fortune to visit…SALUTE The Tasting Room, and like MacArthur ….”I shall return.” You ask, I’m sure you do, “where do hang out while back in the cozy confines of Nacogdoches?” Excellent question sports fan and to wit I reply (sounding like Foghorn Leghorn in my mind), “why the cigar lounge at the Nacogdoches Cigar Company.” A spot for the man who has everything or for the man whose gotta get out of the house. A marvelous inventory of some of the best cigars; a wet bar stocked with a variety of bourbons, ryes, whiskeys and whisky’s. Plush leather chairs, cool confines and some of the best conversations one could partake. There are scholars, businessmen, lawyers, construction workers, manufacturing magnates, preachers, teachers, barbers, wine makers…it’s a happening scene.

Of the like mind…ahh, yes, a group of us have gathered together like moths around a flames or the soft, subtle glow of a lit cigar. In deference to discretion, I’ll use pseudonyms. There is me, me you know, then a gentleman I’ll refer to as the Panama, another as the Reverend and the other as the hair stylist. We always seem to gravitate towards each other as we share many of the interests: a fine cigar, good food and drink, a love of travel, a left, leaning worldview and the delights of well thought out conversations. We’ve become known as the Four Wisemen…as we call ourselves, I have no f****** idea what everyone else calls us. There has never been a time when the four of were together when as Gen. Lew Armistead is reputed to have told Gen. George Pickett, we did not cause …”the academic world trembles before the razor wit of y(our)! fiery intellect(s)!”* I exaggerate…or do I ? Regardless, these are gentlemen who I enjoy being in their company; my kind of people.

There have been people to who I felt a kinship: Jeff, Fant, GRM, Holly…etc.. These were people with which I had an emotional bond. One left a few years ago to retire in the wilds of Missouri with his sweetheart. Let’s call him Jim. I truly missed Jim, but was incredibly happy for this un dogmatic, unconventional, free thinking pastor from Texas to ride off into the sunset with his lady love. (trust me those are words that are rarely found in the same sentence here) The other day, the Panama and I were talking about interesting stuff, but of course, and Jim’s name came up in conversation. Panama remarked that Jim would be perfect for our crew…the fifth Beatle if you will…and even if you won’t. Panama and the Hair Stylist knew him well as all were downtown merchants; the Reverend knew him …well they both had the same boss. Panama shared some stories of how clever Jim was and how great a fella he was…and he was.

I usually avoid these kind of topics as I avoid the trap of what I call “old man talk,” but I lost that tremendous friend today and the world lost a deeply devout man, we all lost Jim. He was my friend for thirty two years… he was a retired pastor and Christian book store owner in Nacogdoches. He was a brilliant man, perhaps one of the wisest men I’ve ever known, who welcomed my questions about faith, afterlife, religion and loving ALL people. He was devout and extremely unconventional in his way of looking at life and the people he shared this world with while here. He was not dogmatic but devout. We spent hours discussing what truth was and what true spirituality was made up of for those who questioned. He made me feel at peace about questioning and doubting and played a part in me finding MY spiritual path. I loved Jim and we of the Four Wisemen are truly heartbroken at his passing. We both believed that our paths were eternal, ever changing, and wasn’t a one and done experience. You were our friend and I will miss you until we meet again on a path that we need.

I could go on as could the other three wisemen, but Jim wasn’t a dandy. He would be satisfied with a simple tip of the hat. So Jim, a cigar will always be set out for you…until we cross path again. So long…

Oh, Jim loved Ireland 🇮🇪 and visited it often. Suaimhneas síoraí don lucht siúil agus bíodh pionta agat go dtí go gcasfaimid le chéile arís

*Sharaa, Micheal; Killer Angels; McKay Publishing; 1984

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jljavier · 3 years

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Stay positive!

Michaela Coel, in her Emmy acceptance speech a few days ago, said something incredibly profound: “In a world that entices us to browse through the lives of others to help us better determine how we feel about ourselves, and to in turn feel the need to be constantly visible, for visibility these days seems to somehow equate to success—do not be afraid to disappear. From it. From us. For a while. And see what comes to you in the silence.”

In the past few weeks, I may have disappeared but I don’t think I’ve been silent. In fact, I might have even done everything to drown out the silence. I finished two books. I threw myself into video games. I watched TV show after TV show. I exercised diligently. I did everything to occupy myself, to not feel the length of the days. I was afraid that if I had too much time to think, I’d end up spiraling.

On September 8th, I learned that I was positive for COVID-19 — this, after already having been on quarantine with my household for days, because my father also tested positive over a week prior. His was a mild symptomatic case (like a terrible flu) and despite our best efforts — ‘our’ pertaining to all of us except my father, because he still kept going in and out of his room and rarely wore a mask when he did — I got infected. It was pretty ironic because I was the one who actively avoided him. At the very least I’m thankful that it was just me who got infected and nobody else in the house. I had no symptoms, and it would stay that way throughout.

On the fourth day of my isolation, I somehow felt equally sorry for and angry at myself about the situation I’d landed in. I convinced myself that I was being punished, for… I don’t know what for. Had I still not been careful enough? Had I overstepped in a way? Had I simply gone over the Good Things in My Life quota, enough that the gods felt compelled to intervene? “Hmm, things are looking a little too good for JL,” they probably said. “We better stir some shit up.”

There is a paraphrased quote from Viktor E. Frankl in Esmé Weijun Wang’s The Collected Schizophrenias, one of the books I’m proud to say I finished recently because I don’t fancy myself much as a reader: “We want our suffering, if it must be endured, to mean something.” Of course, in my woe-is-me state, I easily latched on to this line; if I were to be trapped in this sad room with nothing but my self-pity then I may as well be productive. I was determined to make something out of my isolation, emerge from it with something that mattered, something that I could share to the world. Which is why I took all these photos.

I was hoping these images would reveal something to me. When I eventually browsed through them for editing I wanted to uncover some deep and mystical truth. If I pretend to be philosophical about it, I might say these are documents of me grappling with entrapment, evidence of a bigger grief over the pandemic and the state of the world. In the end, my photos don’t tell me anything new. I may have pointed my camera at the silence, but it spoke of nothing I didn’t already know — just the same old sadness, the same windows, the same walls, the same me, the same me, the same me.

On the last few days before the end of my isolation, I was surprised to find myself feeling less and less enthusiastic about getting out. I wondered if I’d been trapped so long in my room to develop Stockholm Syndrome… for my room? Instead I felt an anxiety, even dread, which was so strange to me because this was the very thing I had been keeping myself together for in the past two weeks.

I realized on the last day how everything about me during my isolation existed within my isolation. My actions, my goals — they all didn’t leave the confines of the room or the day. Everything was at the service of a single thing, which was to get out. And in a way, everything was so simple. Well, I did finish the fourteen days, and now I’m expected to throw myself back out into the world, where everything is so convoluted and, right now, down-right dangerous. In internet inflection: for what?

Honestly, I don’t know. And I don’t really have a choice, do I? I suppose it really helps to have come by that Viktor E. Frankl quote — if we have to go through all this suffering (such an apt word when you live in the Philippines), then hopefully it all means something. Anything. Maybe I’ll find the meaning in the silence, maybe not. Until I do, I guess I’ll keep myself busy.

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srbachchan · 3 years

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DAY 4705

Jalsa, Mumbai Jan 16/17, 2021 Sat/Sun 9:00 AM

🌹🌼🌸☘️🌷🌹🌹🌹🌷🌷🌸🌼🌹🌻🌻🌻🍂🍀🌷☘️🌸🌼🌸🌼🌹🌷❤️🌹

Birthday EF - Ayush Mehta .. Siddharth EF .. Sunday, January 17 .. greetings and the flood of flowers for this special day .. love from all the Ef .. stay safe and protected .. ❤️❤️

To them the gratitude and love for the efforts they make in designing the face of the blogmaestr , a word I have been unable to find either a correct meaning or a correct spelling .. perhaps they that are proficient either in Latin or German may have some educative inputs ..🌹

But sincerely your affection is beyond description , and one has been so overwhelmed by the continuity of , not just the gibberish that comes out each evening, morning afternoon and night from this page, but the dedication with which each one of you have stayed with me all these four thousand seven hundred and five days .. 🥰🥰

It is to be understood that there must be some hasty impressions on other mediums that have a personal view-age for me on the ‘forgotton to press the post button’ or too ‘tired’ to get into that slumber mode .. or as the ‘breakings’ would have their warped way , to have ‘retired’ from all this caboodle ..!!🤪🤪

But no, none of the prior is in its truest .. there was an explosion within the system .. one that sets you down in some reflective stage or shall we say onto a stage that has relentless capacity to just slump upon whatever is being said done or seen and be in unconcerned motives and intent to ‘do what the hell one wants to do , say what ever the hell one wants to say’ and ... YA .. !!

You know what I mean ..

Its those moments ..

BUT .. the morning is good and bright .. the warmth of the Mumbai sun, in its winter, is reflective of the temper of the Ef - ever accommodating, understanding & forgiving , towards this ‘ol man , who I have to admit has spent a rather disturbed night , getting up several times out of the bed, to get to the desk to write to give reason for this delay and seek forgiveness .. !! 🙏

The process of preparation for the next begins and in a few days there shall be back to the Studio details and visuals as the next operation work gets initiated .. a short appearance for friend and neighbour, Ajay and his film ; so far , carrying the title ‘May Day’ .. as the alarm code for a flight in distress, or in crash mode.

Then soon after a host of other shoots on line .. the details of which can only be discussed once they get on the floor of the house , which sounds so Parliamentary .. doesn’t it ?!

.. and work continues .. along with the anxiety of the pandemic, the course of action, the inoculation the effects and so on ..

.. but one has to give it all to humanity .. they always find a way out !

Yes the pandemic has been devastating , not just for those that fell ill , but for those unfortunate souls that found themselves without job, without work and without a living ..

Somehow some of them fought it .. fought the virus, fought the circumstances, developed and designed other modes of existence and just continued to keep their heads and noses above the water levels ..

They were and are true champions .. apart from those that came forward as true warriors , up front fighting for us not just at the borders protecting our sacred land , but those that risked life and living to save the lives and living of others .. other fellow humans ..

Such pride .. 🙏🙏🌹

They found a way .. they decided not to give up in trying circumstances .. they just kept moving .. and moving on well .. finding other means of earning a living .. other means of keeping themselves and their families in wellness and safety ..

Staying confined to their homes or in the living has not been seen by many as a discomfort .. yes it is unnatural , but other modes have given hope to them and they have adjusted so beautifully .. despite all the encumbrances and the continuous informations of uncertainty and ill advised perceptions ..

We are human .. we live and breathe human .. and we honour and give pride to HUMANITY ..

Amitabh Bachchan

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eugesounds · 2 years

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My Road Manager

I'm in the teaching studio this morning for one more day of lessons before a well deserved Spring Break...if I do say so myself. I've been reflecting on a busy, long, and ultimately emotional weekend. The Captain and Camille gang was back at the friendly confines of the Barley House on the eve of St. Patrick's Day in Dallas. It was a chilly and crazy (as usual) Friday night there, and it was great to see a slew of familiar faces digging the bands brand of smooth 70's grooves.

C&C really does have a "family" vibe and it's easy to see that we all enjoy each other as we perform. I've said it before but I'll say it again, there are many moments when I am simply just listening and smiling on stage, happy to be just another fan with an amazing seat.

Hearing Michelle Sanguinetti rip into Rhiannon, or Camille Cortinas egging me on during Logical Song just never gets old. Throw in the mad scientist Mike Finkel on keyboards who somehow manages to duplicate every piano, organ, synth, flute, Vocoder etc. sound ever created between 1970 and 1980, and Josh Hammond nailing the bass lines in lock step with Matt Trimble's killer drumming, well...what's not to smile about?

Then there's the lead raconteur John Lefler, who sort of nudges the crew forward each night from the helm. And when they collectively harmonize, it's truly a beautiful thing. If you haven't seen the band, do yourself a favor and catch a show in the next month or two before we take a little sabbatical this summer. You won't regret it! Follow us on Facebook for more info and dates.

Part 2 of my busy weekend came Saturday night with the Bastards of Soul album release party and memorial concert for our man Chadwick Murray. There were a slew of great articles posted this week that cover Chad's rocket-like trajectory as a front man, the impending birth of his son, and ultimately, his battle with a rare autoimmune disease. Here are a few links in case you missed them:

Texas Monthly - Chris Vognar

D Magazine - Zac Cain

You can also listen to Bastards Danny Balis recount a bit of the story and spin a few cuts from the new album "Corners" by clicking HERE.

It was a beautiful, fun, and emotional show at the Kessler Theater where we've had so many great evenings before. The first album release party was held there, and the band backed up Black Pumas at the Kessler in front of a large and welcoming home-town crowd. And during the height of the pandemic we recorded with Skip Martin (of Dazz Band and Kool and the Gang fame) there for an EarthX festival that was held online.

But Saturday was all about the memory of Chadwick Murray and Master of Ceremonies Max Hartman started off the show with some funny and special stories about his longtime friend. There were terrific performances by Paul and the Tall Trees and Michael Lee as well as a wonderful slide show of photos before Bastards took the stage. I have to admit it was difficult to see tears on some of the faces in the audience as I was playing, but the overall vibe of goodwill and love won out in the end. I maintained until the debut of the new video after our set and finally succumbed to emotions once I was backstage.

It was beautiful to see Chad's wife Hannah and to finally meet new baby Lennox as well. There's no doubt he will be so proud of his dad and the legacy he left, no only as a musician, but more importantly as a person. It was a great event and with all the moving parts involved, it seemed to go incredibly smoothly.

And through it all, by my side for the entire ride, was my trusty side-kick, my better half, my "road manager", Lady Sax. She kept me grounded, made sure we arrived safely to each venue, and never complained about the schlepping and sitting-around she did all weekend. We were talking about being a "roadie" (a term that she definitely does NOT admire) and I came up with the Road Manager alternative which she thinks is a lot better and admits is more apropos. I can and have done it without her, but it is way cooler and much more fun to have her there whenever possible. I am a lucky boy.

I have one more bit of teaching to do and then it's time for some down time filled with a little golf, some good cooking, and afternoons of sun on my face. Cheers to Spring!

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imanes · 3 years

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Hello! You mentioned reading Piranesi a few months ago and I finally got around to reading it and I love it so much - thank you for the lovely recommendation <3 If you don't mind can you talk a little about what you loved about the book (I love hearing your thoughts)? Also have you read Jorge Luis Borges' Ficciones (I believe it inspired Piranesi)?

HELLO my friend!! first of all tysm for taking the recommendation, I'm so happy it worked for you! honestly what do I NOT love about this book? it's hard to wrap my thoughts about piranesi because it was such a lovely reading experience which i honestly need to repeat ASAP because the layers to explore in piranesi are so numerous. secondly let me admit that i haven't read any borges yet BUT he's definitely on my radar and I've been looking for his books on my used bookstore runs since i read piranesi, not to much avail unfortunately but i added ficciones to my tbr for reminder!!

anyways I'm gonna stop right here for anyone who has not read piranesi yet because i think you'd benefit from going into it not knowing much except that it's told in vignettes and that it has elements of mystery which become more and more central to the plot as we advance and unravel the world that piranesi lives in. so don't keep reading past this if u haven't read piranesi yet! i did keep it spoiler-free though so no pressure. also putting everything under a read more bc i truly was obnoxiously verbose adlkjglsjk if it didn't work my apologies 4 it

NOW let's talk about what i loved about the book which honestly will probably just be a flimsy overview bc again i think a re-read would make what i love about it more salient and richer but i guess we can already have a start here!

first of all, the character of piranesi. when i first started the book and immersed myself in his inner voice, i was kind of thinking ok there must be a reason as to why he is so incredibly wholesome but also with an extremely sharp mind and immaculate observation skills. the childlike wonder of his perspective was an absolute joy to read from but also provided some tension because i think pretty early on you catch that he might be a bit of an unreliable character and that what he tells you may not match the reality of what his experiences and observations mean to the reader. you're very much the prisoner of his limited perception, his sometimes bizarre but always delightful thought process, and also again the childlike wonder with which he observes the world and which makes everything carry so much more weight w/o resorting to pompous/pretentious gravitas. a statue isn't just a statue to him, it is the Statue, something important in and of itself, with its own story/mythos and it harkens back to a child's point of view which hasn't yet been shaped by the world and therefore isn't as limited as our jaded adults' minds, even though he is an adult himself, which is apparent in his very keen mind.

then we have the form, with the novel being told in vignettes. i personally really like novels such as these because they feel a lot more personal but also propels the story forward. I'm not a fan of huge chapters tbh because my attention span is trash lmao. it was so easy to immerse myself in his world because the writing was so vivid and honestly made me reevaluate a lot about myself adjdjslg. I'm not much of a quote person but "the Beauty of the House is immeasurable; its Kindness infinite" lives rent-free in my mind because 1. it appears at two key points in the novel and both iterations echo the other brilliantly in their respective context and thus add even more meaning to the quote and 2. i think it's a beautiful metaphor for the world we live in, which leads me to the next point

what i mostly clung to during my reading experience was the theme of confinement to a specific physical space, which can feel suffocating and limited. susanna clarke suffers from a chronic illness that has kept her within the confines of her home for many years and this book very much reflects that. from my personal experience with that theme, i was less reminded of how thematically relevant it was in the middle of a pandemic, and more about how much goodness there is still in this world at a time where everything seems so bleak, and unkind. i myself suffer from an ugly case of chronic cynicism which i think is very unappealing lmao but at least I'm self-aware! being reminded that we live in a world where kindness is indeed infinite in the smallest and biggest of ways is the balm that my shriveled soul truly needed. i guess it's my emotional support quote lmao.

then we have the setting of the book which, while limited spatially, is also so full of wonderful things and imaginative configurations that i was just in awe of everything that was being done with it. the plot is closely tied to the setting and i really want to keep this spoiler-free (just in case) so I'm not going to delve too deeply into it but i'd love to visit this place and have piranesi guide me through the labyrinth of the House and the many wonders (and tragedies) that it holds.

finally we have the MYSTERY and omg i love picking up the clues and kind of forming my own theories along the way bc it truly isn't an in-your-face mystery like a thriller would be. we buddy-read this with some ppl from the book club so the experience of sharing our theories made it all the more pleasant. i really loved how clarke presented the many mysteries of the story in such a subtle yet gripping manner that soon i was just obsessed with knowing who was whom and what they wanted from piranesi and who piranesi was and how this all came to be. all the different players felt fully fleshed out and made me feel veeeery strongly (i.e. i wanted to kill some of them like literally daydreaming about choking them to death... not to sound unhinged or anything). they provided such good foils to piranesi's inherent goodness and all that they lacked in terms of decency. their shamelessness and infinite greed and how they see piranesi as a pawn to use set my teeth on edge so i was just biding my time for the karmic retribution that they'd get akjdlkgj also great exploration of how ambition can be the downfall of mankind

then we have all the clever-people-themes of neoclassicism and philosophy and plato's cave and whatnot and it's not what held my attention so i can't speak much on it bc I'm not one of those clever people who picked upon these themes LMAO but I'll for sure spend more time unpacking these layers on my re-read of this book because there are so many smart ideas hidden in the nooks and crannies of this story that i think you could get something different from each read, kind of like i feel about pride & prejudice by jane austen which offers me new delights to enjoy upon each re-read.

honestly i have so much more to say about how religion is handled, the rituals surrounding grief and their importance in the celebration and respect of of life, birds being amazing creatures, identity and how it can create contradictions etc etc but at this point i might as well just write a college essay on literally every theme explored in this book because it was just SO GOOD! thank u piranesi for me life

tl;dr this book made me feel like my brain was buried in a thick coat of dust and let some much-needed air in

#also i read this message at like 6am and thought long and hard about it #and then started crying bc i'd die and kill for piranesi period

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gottagobackintime · 3 years

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Today we put my grandmother to rest. As in we put down her urn, the funeral was in June.

It still feels weird, like I know she’s gone and everything but at the same time everything is like it’s always been. My grandparents house still looks the same, all of her things are still there but she’s not. And it was strange to see the urn and to think that in that container is the only physical thing left of my grandmother. All other things left of her are memories and things. Like all of her angels that she loved, her bags and shoes in the hallway.

And then there’s my grandfather, he’s alone now. They’ve been together for over 50 years (although they did get divorced when I was a kid and lived separately for a while but it wasn’t for long, it’s really weird, I have a vague memory of them not being together for a while. But I’m not sure any of my cousins are aware of it because I’m not even sure they were old enough to actually remember it. I doubt it.) They have four kids together, 8 grandkids. They’ve traveled together and had fun together. And now that’s gone. And he lost basically two years worth of that, partly because my grandmother was too poorly to go anywhere, she didn’t have the energy, and partly because of the pandemic. (The pandemic that is the reason why I last saw her on my cousin’s graduation in June last year, and the last time I spoke to her was when she phoned me to wish me a happy birthday last september). Me and my dad took my grandfather on a trip on Tuesday and we had a lovely time, eating nice food and seeing cool things. And he kept saying how lovely it was and that he’d love to take another trip soon. And when we went home after we’d had some “fika” earlier, after the inurnment. He said that he might pop buy on Sunday when my dad is helping one of my uncles to move his things from his house because he’s moving (he’s getting a divorce), and it’s obviously because he’s lonely, and bored of being alone in the house. I can’t imagine what it’s like for him. To have all of their plans for the future cut off like that. They’d planned on moving to a flat, to downsize. And he even got a call after she passed away because there was a flat available and he had to tell them what had happened and that it wasn’t a good time for him to move right now. My grandmother really wanted to move to one of those flats they’d looked at. And she never got to do it.

There are so many things that makes me sad, of couse her being gone forever is the main thing. But also the little things. Like I never got to tell her that I’m “working” as a contact person for someone (helping someone that has problems with social contacts and things like that. So you hang out with them basically), I think she would have been glad to hear that, she probably would have said that it suited me. I never got to tell her I got into university again and that I’m going to be a teacher (and stick with it this time). She’ll never know if I ever gave her great grandkids (something I want to do one day). I’ll never hear her wishing me a happy birthday again, and my birthday is coming up in early september. I have no idea what Christmas Day will be without her there. I’ll never eat her amazing food again. Hell I don’t even know if I’ll ever be able to cut my hair short again, because the last time I did I almost scared myself when I looked in the mirror because I looked EXACTLY like my grandmother, only younger, it was creepy. And I don’t think I could handle that. even with my hair tied back I look similar in some ways. But with my hair in a similar style to hers... it’s gonna be a while until I’m ready for that. Then there’s the fact that I can’t really remember her voice. I’m bad in general at “picturing” peoples voices, but usually you hear them over and over, from time to time. But I’ll never hear her voice again. And that upsets me in a way that I can’t really explain.

And the worst thing, I thought I’d have more time... Time for one more conversation, time to see her one more time. And I didn’t get that. I’ll never get that get that. My last conversation with her will always be her calling to wish me a happy 27th birthday. And on one hand it’s a nice conversation to have as a last conversation but on the other it feels insignificant. I feel conflicted, my last memory of her is her and me being happy and talking because of a happy occasion. Instead of a conversation with her confined to a hospital bed, not being the grandmother she’d always been. But as I said, it feels so unimportant.

Anyway, I’ll stop rambling now.

#great scott my life is heavy #I wonder when life will feel normal again #or rather it feels normal which is why it's not normal #if you know what I mean like we keep on living as if nothing has happened #or rather in a life goes on kind of way but at the same time we're carrying this grief that's constantly like a shadow #there isn't a day where I don't think ''my grandmother is dead my grandmother is dead my grandmother is dead''#even if I'm otherwise happy and laughing doing things I love #it's always there and sometimes I almost burst into tears over the smallest of things #grief really is a strange thing

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sometimesrosy · 3 years

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I have bouts of unhappiness from time to time, now more frequently than not. For more than a year, I haven’t talked to friends because of COVID and confinement. All of the friends I talk to are online, but there’s no human contact. One of them is spanish, so we never talked any other way. The others are mostly my boyfriend’s friends with whom we talk on discord. I only see my mom, grandma, boyfriend, and my cats. I work at a study center, but now even the kids I talk to through zoom because of a new confinement. I’ve been feeling pretty low and without a drive in life. I stopped reading, I stopped bullet journaling, I stopped writing, I stopped watching movies and tv. Recently I’ve started streaming video games, and honestly it’s the only thing that keeps me doing something outside of work, but I wonder when will I give up on it too. I’d like to blame this on the confinement, but even before we had it, I had already isolated myself from people. It’s really easy to feel lonely, to feel like I can’t connect. I know it’s not depression because I’ve had and I hit rock bottom then, so I know I’m better. I lost friends along my life, but most of it was for the best. I have found a life partner that treats me 100% well and who gave the best kitties I could have ever asked for. I have a mom that does anything and everything for me, a grandma that cooks for me, a house with fast internet. I have a job and students that like me. And yet, sometimes I feel like I’m here doing nothing? As if I have no purpose? I have so many interests it kills me to never be satisfied. I honestly think this is my problem. Anyway, I’m so sorry for the rant. I just felt I needed to let it out somehow. I know tomorrow I’ll wake up fine, but next week I’ll have another day like this. For now, I’m going to bed and cuddle with my boyfriend and kitties. I just wish I could change my perspective these days I’m feeling down. I don’t need to have a purpose, I don’t need to commit to hobbies. I don’t need to expect something of myself when I don’t even know what it is. Thank you for “hearing” me out. Please never delete this blog!

So here’s the thing I want you to remember:

You are living through unprecedented times. The pressures of a global pandemic, national upheaval, cultural revolution and environmental extremes have us ALL on edge.

When you take stock of your life, as you have here, you can see you’re doing pretty well. You have love and family and work and security and safety and the best kitties in the world, right? You KNOW depression and this isn’t it somehow.

And yet, you seem to think that you have to look for *your* problem, the reason why *you* particularly are feeling this way.

Nope. It’s not you. There’s not something wrong with you that isn’t wrong with everyone.

Now, I’m not a therapist, I’m not making a diagnosis here, but before this pandemic thing, there was a lot of upheaval in my life and I worked through it, leaving me in a really good position to ride out this global disaster that I wouldn’t have been in before. I mean it wasn’t good, but it’s like I experienced it before everyone else so am already on the way to healing from it while everyone else is falling into it. So from my experience and the research I have had to do for my own health and well being, what I think you’re experiencing is ANXIETY.

I think that because you told me you stopped doing the things you love, reading, bullet journaling, writing, movies and tv. That happened to me too. I mean aside from hyperfocusing on writing. It was rather stressful to STOP reading for me. And I kept feeling like something was wrong with me, then I discovered that not being able to focus on reading is actually a symptom of anxiety. And it’s common now. The world feels out of control and you feel like you should be doing something to fix it, only you can’t, and focusing on the things that are part of your life feels insufficient. You’re overwhelmed. Actually, there’s probably a bit of depression in there, too.

But I do know that I needed to read and watch COMFORT content. Something I’ve already read, or a literature genre that wraps everything up neatly in the end. For me, Historical Romance, because I need the Happy Ever After and I need the problems to be distant enough from my reality to not affect me. In fact, when I read a book that touches on traumas that are too close to real for me, I get tense and can’t continue. (I had this problem last week with a romance set in the civil war. I just can’t handle fictional racism and brutality in my escapism book when I’m trying to escape IRL racism and brutality. I think it’s because the MC was traumatized by it, where in the other books in the series, the characters were fighting it. Anyway, good books, The Loyal League Books by Alyssa Cole, the last is just hitting some of my triggers.)

Still, I find myself unable to read science fiction or fantasy. I can ONLY read romance. It’s very weird for me, because I love SFF. But my brain is struggling to handle all the real life chaos, and there’s really no room in it right now to have comprehend the big thoughts and new universes of SFF. So when Bridgertons showed up, which is my perfect genre right now, and which I’ve already READ multiple times, so it isn’t even new material for me, THAT is the kind of thing I can watch. Superhero shows where I already know the characters. Fanfiction where it’s just two characters falling in love over and over again.

I dont’ mean to talk about myself, but as an illustration, I wanted to show you. You are overwhelmed and your brain wants to rest. Video games seems to provide that. Okay! Keep doing that. Just like I finally had to sign up for kindle unlimited so that I could zoom through all the romance books for comfort reading without having to buy new ones all the time.

This is how you are coping.

And if I read your ask right. You’re a teacher. I dont’ know what kind of teacher or if you’re irl or distance teaching, but I do know that the stress of teaching in this pandemic is INCREDIBLE. Shoot, normal teaching is demanding enough, add the pandemic and OUCH. So I think you should recognize that you are a front line worker in keeping society running. You honestly don’t need to have a higher purpose than that... if you feel like you need to be DOING something important. You already are.

Everyone can only do what they are capable of. Some people are in politics, some people are developing vaccines, some people are stocking shelves, some people are teaching, some people are raising kids, some people are volunteering. You don’t have to do it all. Find your place in your world and accept that you are contributing.

What you need to do right now is to take care of yourself. You MUST have time to relax. Value your family and boyfriend and kitties, just like you say. Rest, relax. Do NOT burn out. Stay healthy. That is important especially now. Eat right and drink water and sleep enough.

I think you’re right. It is a matter of your perspective. You’ve forgotten that your life has turned upside down. You’re expecting activity/energy levels from yourself that you had before the world was a flaming dumpster fire. But so much of your current energy is going to surviving in that flaming dumpster fire.

EVERYONE is trying to survive right now, even when we have relatively comfortable situations. Recognize that and give yourself a break.

#survival #anxiety #depression #pandemic #deep breath and go play some video games cuddle your cats and hug your boyfriend

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a-pretty-nerd · 4 years

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Run (Jasper Jordan x Reader College!Au)

Request: “Hoi I wanna request a story sadly I don’t have Patreon though so u prob won’t make it hehe. It’s a Jasper Jordan x reader fan fic also I would love if it a High school/college Au and the readers parents don’t approve Jasper so she has to sneak out every time she wants to meet him but soon she finds out she’s pregnant so she runs away with him? Also your work is amazing!” ~ @deadqueeen

A/N: I was just about to say, “I’ve never done a college au before, uwu!” but I forgot about that entire self indulgent smut I wrote…big Oof. Anyways, love this idea, I love some good ol’ fashioned angst. Just a warning though, I did end up leaning heavily into the relationship reader has with their parents so just be prepared for some upsetting interactions.

If you like my work, don’t be afraid to interact! Gimme a like, comment, message, send a request my way if you like! And if you’d like to support me further, go ahead and check out my Patreon! I’d love to see you there!

Trigger Warnings: Mild Smut, Parental abuse, petting crime, and Pregnancy.

College was stressful as it is, but as the months passed, things were getting harder and harder to manage. Come your freshman year, a little thing called Covid-19 hit the world, sending it into a whirlwind of stress and unease.You sat in the shower, letting the warm water fall over your aching body as you stared blankly at your knees. After your panic attack you were left void of emotion and thought, sitting there wondering what to do and how to move. The water was a calming reminder that you were still present and very much alive.

Things had changed very quickly and yet it felt like that change took forever to get to you. Covid hit right before the end of your freshman year, forcing you to move back in with your parents until it “passed.” But it wasn’t passing and now you were starting your sophomore year at home.As stressful as it was, you missed school. You missed your friends, your dorm room, even your part-time job. But most of all, your freedom. You missed the carefree way in which you lived in the dorms. You had a taste or real life and you craved more.

You were trapped, for lack of a better word, imprisoned in your childhood home. You spent days without leaving the confines of it’s walls in a failed attempt to keep you safe and focused on school. Your parents weren’t always so strict, but they made it clear that school should be your top priority and anything else was an unwelcome distraction. Things like your boyfriend, were merely a hindrance to your education.You met Jasper your first day in the dorms. He was bright and smiling like an excited puppy, eager and willing to make new friends and new experiences. You quickly became friends, and then a little more. Before you knew it, the two of you were inseparable. He made you feel so wild and free. He nurtured the fun, carefree side of you that you didn’t even know existed. He cared for you in ways no one ever had before. He was so funny and kind and genuine. He gave you the tools to grow, and with his, you bloomed.

When the pandemic hit, it devastated the two of you. Being isolated and kept from one another proved too much to bare. You remember the first night you snuck out with him, terrified of alerting your parents. They hated Jasper, they forbade you from seeing him. Told you he’d do nothing but keep you down and stifle your potential. If only they could see how happy he made you. If only, they cared.Jasper would creep around to your backyard and gently tap at your bedroom window. 12 am, they’d always be asleep, the perfect time to make a quick get away and then 6am, you’d sneak back through your window.

The adrenaline of misbehaving always drove you crazy. Sneaking around in the dark of the night, stealing chased kisses from one another until it was too much to handle. You fell into each other’s arms almost every night, desperate kisses and moans in between the sound of skin slapping against skin. He made your hair curl.You were his first. He was awkward and silly at times but you whipped him into shape real quick. And now, he was a well trained boy toy ready and willing at any moment you desired. He was always so desperate for you, so needy and greedy for your body. But his kisses, no matter how passionate and crazed, were always so loving. He adored you in every way.

These secret rendezvous went on for months, all summer, it was routine, you couldn’t stay away from him. But, maybe you should have. With more classes fast approaching, you began to think about your future. If only you had the money to move out, you and Jasper could finally have a sense of normalcy. You could move in together, start a life together. But the pandemic and school sucked your savings dry and without the conditioned help from your parents, you were penniless. You finally stood on your shaky legs and lifted yourself out of the show. You dried yourself off, shuffled over to your room, dressing yourself, and waiting till the coast was clear. When all was quiet, you texted Jasper and soon he was at your window. Lucky for you, he wasn’t a far drive away. He gently tapped on the glass and leaned down to flash a big goofy grin from behind your curtains. You opened the window and let him in, shushing him as he fell into the room.

“Hey sweetness.” He whispered, loudly. He planted a soft kiss on your cheek as he held you by your hips.“Please be quiet, you’re making me nervous.” You hushed. His smile disappeared slowly as he examined your face. Your red eyes and puffy cheeks gave away your emotions. He was never good at reading a room, but there was little you could hide from him. He made you transparent.

“Have you been crying?” Worry washed over him as he placed his hands to hold your head and slide his thumbs over the soft skin on your cheeks. You tried to avoid his gaze but failed miserably.“Yeah…” You admitted, wiggling out of his grasp so you could sit on the edge of your bed. Your heart started to race, the anxiety and fear wrenching its was through your body. Even the thoughts made you want to cry again.

“Whats wrong? Did something happen with your parents?” You’d been having fights with them for some time now, and he knew it was taking a tole on you. Jasper offered to being you home to his folks, but his relationship with them was on the rocks as it was. Your small group of close friends were your only support. All things considered, the two of you were left on your own. “No…” You muttered, unable to bring yourself to say it out loud. The tears quickly came back up and started falling again. Your emotions, your fears, your pain took over you. You couldn’t get out a single word before your body jerked uncontrollably as you sobbed. It left a slew of incomplete words spewing from your mouth. “I-I….I-I I’m ….. Mmmm …. I’m …..” gasp, sob “Mmmmmha….” and the sobbing continued.

“Hey…Hey…It’s okay.” He cooed softly to you as he rubbed soft, slow circles on your back. It helped, but not much.“N-No…” you shook as you cried, “I’m-m-m-”

“It’s alright, take deep breaths, you don’t have to say anything until you’re ready.” He whispered to you. You clung to him desperately. It took time, but soon you felt good enough to speak again.“Jasper…”

“What sweetness?” He flashed you his kind and loving smile.“I’m pregnant.” You uttered softly. You watched the color drain from his face. His sweet smile faded away to a scowl and the fear rushed back to you. The sobbing started again as you chanted apology after apology, begging for him to stay with you. He didn’t move, he only held you where you were. Finally spoke.

“Don’t be sorry. It’s okay. This isn’t your fault. We tried, we were safe, it’s not your fault. Shhhhh. It’s okay.” Suddenly a bright light interrupted him. Your bedroom door swing open to reveal the large, looming figure of your mother. “What the hell is going on here!” She screamed. You watched in horror as your mother wrenched Jasper from your arms and threw him out into the living room. You followed her, pleading and begging her to stop as she hurled whatever was in reach at him. Shoes, pillows, plates, before your father reached around his collar to throw him out of the house.

The yelling and screaming continued through the night until the sun came up. Your father nailed your bedroom window shut. Your mother locked your door by pushing furniture in front of it to keep you inside. Your phone, your computer, every form of communication was taken from you. Every mistreatment and punishment being underlined by some iteration of, “this is for your own good” or “this is because we love you.”

You felt stuck in an emotional limbo for days on end as they kept you prisoner. You didn’t have the energy to cry or argue, there was nothing you could do or say. You had sit and stay, like a good girl.

One night you were woken by a soft tapping at your bedroom window. You jolted out of bed to see a pair of familiar eyes pear back. Monty stood on the other outside, a face mask and baseball cap hiding his features. He held up a notebook with writing on it and pressed it against the glass.

“Are you okay?” It read. You rushed to find paper and write back.

“I’m fine. Wheres Jasper?”

“Your Dad threatened to shoot him if he saw him again. So he sent me.” He wrote back.

“Is he okay?”

“He’s fine. We’re busting you out of here.”

“How? They’re getting security cameras installed tomorrow.” Monty looked visibly concerned and thought for a moment before responding.

“Then we’ll have to do it tonight. Pack what you can. We’ll be back to get you in an hour.”

“How are you going to get me out? The window is nailed shut, I can’t get out.”

“Don’t worry. Just be prepare to run.” And with that, he left. You packed what you could. A few items of clothing, necessities, and water. You thought about leaving a note. Maybe telling your parents about your pregnancy, they had missed that part of your conversation, thank god. You decided against it, you still didn’t know what to do. Regardless, it was safe to say you could kiss your funding for school goodbye. You’d be on your own from now on. Well, not entirely.

You heard shuffling outside your bedroom window and looked outside to see two dark figures racing past. You watched as Bellamy peered in, face also obscured by a mask, and waved at you. Jasper’s mask covered face popped into view and planted his palm on the window before holding up a notebook.

“Get away from the window, and be prepared to run.” It read. As soon as you nodded in agreement, Jasper disappeared from view. You watched Bellamy swing his arms back with a crow bar in hand. The window shattered with a loud crash, glass flying all over your bedroom. He reached a hand out to you, his grasp firm as you clung to his forearm. You were pulled through to the outside and fell to the ground below.

“Go, go, go, run!” Bellamy whispered, loudly. You looked up at your parent’s house as the sound of dogs barking rang in your ears. Lights flew on from the house as well as neighbor’s lights. You felt so stiff and ridged. The urge to run suppressed by your fear. Jasper reached down and took your hand in his. You looked up at him, his eyes wide with urgency. He tugged at your arm, begging you to get up and run with him.

Suddenly, you felt free. You felt the strength to get up and push forward. Running with him to a car parked outside the house. The three of you bolted, tripping over yourselves as you raced against the clock. As soon as you were in the car, Octavia greeted you with a big toothy grin.

“Drive! Drive!Drive!” Jasper shouted at her. Her smile disappeared as she looked back at Jasper with you before her attention went back to the car. The engined roared as she adjusted the gears and soon you were off. Still panting, you looked back at your childhood home and saw your parents tumble out of the front door to try and chase after the car. Your dad tried to chase after the car, but stopped when he realized it was no use. Their figures soon disappeared.

Octavia cheered triumphantly as you turned back to catch your breath. A great big smile stretched across your face. You’d never felt so free before. You looked over to see Jasper still panting but sporting a bright smile as he looked at you. He reached a hand around the back of your head and pulled you in for a passionate kiss. You laughed and basked in the blissful feeling the adrenaline gave you.

Soon the moment passed and you were left holding one another’s hand as Octavia drove you to Bellamy’s apartment. You stayed the night, planned your escape. Apparently Jasper’s parents didn’t know he was leaving either, meaning the two of you were officially on the run. You had to leave town, like, now.

You pooled what money the two of you had, quick to take cash out of your account before your parents could freeze your debit card. Enough to get you out of town and settled in a hotel for a few nights, maybe even a few meals. But you couldn’t afford much without work after that. Lucky for the two of you, a friend from the dorms lived just a town over. You could stay with her a few days while you looked for work.

“What are you going to do?” Bellamy asked with a dark expression as he stared at you.

“What?” You were confused, hadn’t you just laid out your plan?

“Jasper told me you were...you have another problem.” His eyes flashed between the two of you before resting on you again, he was careful to not say anything too pointed.

“Oh...I...I don’t know.” You said under a whisper. Jasper rested a firm hand on your knee.

“How long have you known?” Octavia asked.

“Like a few days. Theres still time to think about it, I just...I just wanna get out right now.” Bellamy nodded his head.

“If you guys need anything, don’t be afraid to call okay?” He handed you a prepaid phone. You thanked them for your help, packed up, and left the next night. You hid under masks and baseball hats as you sat at the bus station. The cool night air brushed against you skin as you admired the bright lights of the street lamps above. Jasper squeezed your hand in his to get your attention. You looked at one another and smiled under your mask.

You’d never tell him this, but during the coarse of your relationship you had always worried about Jasper. Worried that maybe you weren’t as serious as you felt. Maybe you were just a little fun to him, the rush of a forbidden romance being what drove him to you. But now, with him so willing run. So willing to leave his comfortable life just for you. Regardless of the responsibilities that came with it. He chose you, without a second thought, he chose you.

The dark street road was empty and serene. You watched as bats flew down to catch bugs that swarmed the lights above you. Despite your situation, you felt safe and warm there beside him. For the first time, you felt confident that everything is going to be okay.

#jasper jordan #jasper jordan imagine #jasper jordan smut #jasper x reader #jasper jordan x reader #The 100 #the 100 au #The 100 college au #the 100 imagine #jasper jordan x pregnant reader #jasper

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sleepykittypaws · 3 years

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Ted Lasso: Carol of the Bells

Original Air Date: August 13, 2021 (Apple TV+) Where to Watch?: It’s an Apple TV+ original series, so should be available on the streaming service in perpetuity

Ted Lasso, the series, is one of the brightest entertainment lights to come along in a relatively dark time. Premiering mid-pandemic, the show, based on a series of not-all-that-well-known NBC soccer coverage promos, stars Jason Sudeikis as an American college football coach hired to coach British Premier League soccer (I, of course, mean, football) team, AFC Richmond.

The show, which has become something of a phenomena as it enters its second season with a record 20 Emmy nominations, has been hailed for its niceness and general likability. It's funny, sharp and, yes, sweet, without being saccharine. Bad stuff happens on, and to, Ted Lasso, just like in real life, but the characters don't let the worst parts of their lives define them.

Ted Lasso’s trick is that it manages to be both grounded and an escape from reality, into a world that's a little bit kinder and more gentle than the one we all actually live in, in 2020 and 2021.

So, there's probably no better program to offer up a Christmas special, even in August, despite the fact that I'm usually a stickler about keeping holiday content special by confining it to the season. I mean, sure I start "the season" no later than November 1, but, still, I do enjoy waiting to savor my Christmas TV, so it takes something pretty special to get me in the spirit mid-summer.

“Carol of the Bells,” the fourth episode of Ted Lasso’s second season, takes place, like most UK series Christmas specials, both within and somewhat outside the timeline of the rest of the series, and could easily be watched, and enjoyed, as a stand alone. There is barely a passing mentioning of what felt like a cliffhanger ending to episode three, when the team protested their top sponsor, Dubai Air, in solidarity with Nigerian player Sam Obisanya. But in “Carol of the Bells,” the timeline of the show has jumped ahead significantly, putting behind us the team's streak of draw matches, which had been another main focus of the season to date, via one line of exposition and a pan to a whiteboard in Coach Lasso's office.

One of the things I love about this show is that they aren't afraid to resolve a plot line mid-season. No need to draw it out for drama, or to have beloved characters backtrack, constantly recreating the same situations. I think the moment I really feel in love with Ted Lasso is when the owner-seeks-to-destroy-team-as-revenge-on-her-ex plot that launched the series was resolved, not via a dramatic reveal, but a quiet office conversation with team owner Rebecca asking, and receiving, forgiveness, from Ted, who understood her instinct to lash out, and refused to hold those worst impulses against her, knowing he had his own not-quite-pure reasons for accepting the job in the first place.

For me, that moment was when Ted Lasso went from amusing, to awesome. So, it's no surprise that the Ted-Rebecca relationship continues to bloom at Christmas, where Hannah Waddington's character absolutely sees through Ted's all-good exterior, knowing just how lonely the first Christmas post-divorce can be.

When we saw Ted drinking, alone in his apartment, and watching It's a Wonderful Life, I feared we might be in for one of those dream Christmas movie redux's with Ted learning how important his existence really is, but of course I should have known better. A huge part of Ted Lasso's charm is that show usually zigs, when viewers expect it to zag: Not giving the team the tie to keep them from being relegated, the undramatic reveal of Rebecca's evil plan to Ted, Keeley and Roy's rock solid relationship.

Instead, the show continues to demonstrate it really does have the best of intentions with Rebecca and Ted going on a Christmas Day giving spree, that feels both absolutely perfect for the pair, and helps support the very real Poverty Alleviation Charities.

Meanwhile, Roy and Keeley's Sexy Christmas is interrupted by the last minute arrival of Roy's adorable niece, Phoebe, who has received a not-very-nice gift from a boy in her class. Roy and Keeley's banter is on full display as they attempt to both revenge and reconcile the source of Phoebe's distress.

Brett Goldstein, who plays Roy and is also a writer on the show, steals almost every scene he's in, even at Christmas, and the onscreen chemistry he has with Juno Temple's Keeley is off the charts. That child actor Elodie Blomfield more than holds her own with these two is a real testament to her own, budding abilities.

The ending of Roy, Keeley and Phoebe's Christmas adventure—teased early on with the reveal of the teasing boy's name as Bernard (and if you don't get that reference Google "Richard Curtis-Bernard Jenkin") is so perfect, I absolutely did tear up.

Oh and, shout out to guest star Claire Skinner, who knows a thing or two about classic UK Christmas specials with her own from her days on Outnumbered, another of my UK faves. Gutted we didn't get to see Dr. Rogers' husband, who I kept hoping would be Skinner's real-life partner, and Outnumbered co-parent, Hugh Dennis. Really, Dennis' lack was the only real mis-step in this entire episode for me.

Meanwhile, Higgins, played so well by Jeremy Swift (the casting in Ted Lasso is across-the-board perfection), is hosting his annual Christmas open house for Richmond team members without family in town, expecting the usual one or two players to pop in. Instead, with Swift's real-life wife Mary Roscoe at his side, almost the entire team turns up ready to celebrate with the Higgins clan.

It's only at the very end that “Carol of Bells” goes traditional Christmas special, putting most of its main characters outside Casa Higgins for an episode-ending musical number that, I'm just gonna admit, while cheesy as heck, brought even more tears to my eyes, despite it still being August, and would have made me a blubbering mess in December—when I will definitely be watching this again.

From the opening scene reveal of the team's Secret Santa exchange, to the closing moments that put Waddington back on the mic, which fans have been demanding since her karaoke outing in season one, for an extra dose of Christmas cheer, “Carol of the Bells,” was, to me, perfect.

I'm not exactly sure why Apple TV+ didn't save this for a one-off November or December drop but, as I said on Twitter, it's very possible, maybe even likely, that I saw my favorite Christmas content of 2021 on August 13th. Ted Lasso: Carol of the Bells is going to be very, very hard to top.

Final Judgement: 4 Paws Enthusiastically Up for this instant Christmas classic

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ikesenhell · 4 years

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American Dream

AMERICAN DREAM, Chapter 1. You can find all other IkeSen works of mine here. NOTES: HOLY SHIT IT HAS BEEN A MINUTE. Thank you so much to @missjudge-me, who commissioned this whole piece. You have them to thank. I’m sorry it took so long for me to get back up, but being homeless and in grad school and working and getting formally diagnosed with an autoimmune illness and being in a pandemic and moving kinda takes it out of you. This was very fun to write. Enjoy!

---

Masamune wasn’t used to his childhood bedroom anymore. His mother had converted his loft bed desk into her scrapbooking station. That was fine, in theory, except that it meant two things: one, she hadn’t changed the sheets in actual years, and two, the loft bed was still there.

“Sweet!” He announced with a laugh, scaling the ladder in a single bound. It’d felt so tall once. He ducked low against the ceiling, pressing his back flat. “Holy hell, I was smaller then.”

“Duh.” His brother, Kojiro, smirked from the door. Time changed everything. Masamune felt so big when he was in high school himself, but looking at his teen brother changed his perspective. “You’re a big lunk now. You eat like The Rock.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Masamune kicked off his boots and army-crawled into the loft.

“How much clearance you got?”

“Eh. Six inches from my chest to the ceiling?” He tried to roll onto his back and failed, laughing against the drywall. “Did you know about the time that I knocked myself out up here?”

Kojiro’s luminous blue eyes appeared over the lip of the bed. “Really?”

“Oh, yeah. Got too excited freshman year of high school, bolted straight up when the alarm went off.” He motioned at a dent in the ceiling. “I was late. Dad didn't stop laughing for about, I dunno—”

“—the whole ride there.” Kojiro chuckled. “Yeah. Sounds like him.”

The funeral wasn’t so far behind them that it didn't hurt, but it sure as hell hurt less. Masamune checked his knuckles into the dent. It was the whole reason for his coming home. His mother needed someone to sort out all of the old things, all the memories and bills she couldn’t bear to look at. It didn't matter that they’d never gotten along. Kojiro was her favorite; that was obvious (and Masamune couldn’t blame her for that, Kojiro was a joy by anyone’s standards). Even then he couldn’t let her hang in the lurch. His dad taught him better than that.

Damn. He missed his dad. Everywhere he looked in this old town, in this old house, were reminders. There was the trashy diner where they used to get the world’s best milkshakes once a week. There was the old stove with the broken burner they’d never replaced (because it was ‘perfectly good’) where he’d learned how to cook. And it wasn’t just his father he felt the absence of. Masamune fingered along the space between the wall and the loft bed where he’d pasted all the pictures and keepsakes from his friends. Him and Nobunaga, posing in a picture by the beach with matching glasses. Hideyoshi and Mitsunari peering at homework, Mitsuhide poised to drop an ice cube down his shirt. (Nobunaga was a broker in New York City, conquering Wall Street with Hideyoshi. Those two shared an apartment in SoHo, all the way across the country on the other coast. Hideyoshi worked with Nobunaga now, and no one knew what Mitsuhide did. Mitsunari was off in the Peace Corps.) There was a snapshot of Masamune and Ieyasu squished together in the back of an old 1960s Volkswagen Beetle his mom had for decades, Ieyasu frowning over a mouthful of jalapeno poppers. Ieyasu was a doctor in Maryland now. He was terrible at texting back, too. Masamune made a mental note to call.

And then there was Her.

Even after all this time, he missed their friendship. He fingered the worn photograph; After-Prom senior year, her in a bikini that made his stomach somersault, him holding her on his shoulders. She was laughing. He still wore the fake eye back then, and it sat oddly in the socket, but even that didn't take away from the sheer joy as he gazed up at her. When she lived with her parents in the little green house across the street, he used to build paper airplanes with stupid jokes scrawled in the folds and fling it at her window, hoping that they’d hit and knowing they never would. They’d measure how far it got from his front door and compare their poorly-kept notes, misremembering all the numbers.

Now she was out there in the world.

Kojiro craned his neck over the loft edge. “What’cha got up there?”

Masamune didn't answer that. Instead he wondered if she was happy. “If I’m gonna stay here for now, we gotta fix this situation. I’m too manly and brawny to fit up here. Wanna swap beds?”

“No! This thing is so uncool, you can’t get—” And the teenager furtively checked the doorway, lowering his voice. “You can’t get anyone up here with you.”

As an adult, Masamune rolled his eyes. As a brother, he snapped back, “I promise, you can.”

“Gross, why the fuck would I trade with you now—!?”

Downstairs, their mother shouted, “Who is swearing up there!?” Kojiro paled. Masamune, bolstered with smug elder brother energy, kicked him from the ladder.

“Move, punk! Run for your life! You fucked up!”

His mother, louder now. “Who said that?!”

“That was Masa!” Kojiro bellowed, fleeing the scene of the crime. “Masa said it that time!”

“That time!? Kojiro—!”

Masamune finally wriggled himself free from the narrow confines of the loft. On the way down, he pocketed the picture of Her.

---

The only reason he remembered the day his dad bought the ‘85 Camaro was his mother was well and truly pissed about it. It wasn’t a pretty looking thing then. Masamune later sussed out that his dad had picked it off a side road out in the country because it was ‘a nice looking car’ and ‘could be fixed up’. Of course it could. Maybe it was his time in the military, but there wasn’t a damn car under the sun that his dad couldn’t fix. The Camaro was better than new, but his mom drove a newer Hyundai, so it sat neglected in the garage, shiny and electric blue and begging for a test run. When Masamune backed it into the driveway, his mother sighed ragged.

“I ought to sell that thing,” she announced.

Masamune bit back his reflex answer of ‘not on my watch’ and replied, “Kojiro’s gonna need a car when he can drive.”

“I’m going to get him something new. A nice car. That one is too old for anything now.”

“I could take it.”

“You already have that infernal death trap.” She thumbed at the Harley parked in the grass, right where she hated it most. In the name of getting along, neither of them had mentioned it. “You don’t need another car payment. Besides, don’t you have anything better to do right now? We have all sorts of things to settle with your dad’s estate.”

“Ma, the car is paid off.” But she was right in one way; he did already have a vehicle, and paying the taxes and insurance on both was a waste. It was sort of pointless, keeping the car in the garage forever. “I can’t do anything until I get the extra copies of his death certificate, and that’s gonna be a minute. I ordered them today. Did you want me to put the car on Craigslist or something?”

She gazed at it, her steel expression softening. Ah, yes. There was his mother. His parents loved each other dearly. It just took moments like this to remember it.

“Would you?” She replied. Her feather soft voice broke his heart. “I can’t bear to do it.”

“Yeah, Ma. I’ll get it to a good home.”

---

All it really needed was a wash and an oil change. The guys at the auto parts store whistled enviously when they handed over the filters. No; it wouldn’t be hard to sell at all. No doubt he could post it on some Reddit forum and get a hundred hits in an hour.

Masamune was about to post the listing when fate intervened.

The driveway was warm on his bare back, the first chill wind of autumn cooling his shoulders. His phone was stark against the sharp blue sky, his shirt rolled under his hair.

A shadow fell over him. “Masa?”

He blinked his only good eye, floundering against the sudden contrast. The woman murmured an apology, stepped away, and blinded him with sunlight again.

“Hey!” He laugh-yelped, rolling onto his stomach. “Goddamn!”

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry—”

“No, no, it’s fine.” He clutched at the Camaro’s bumper and pulled himself up, blinking sundots away. “Gimme a sec, hang on.”

And then—she swam into view, all bright eyes and curves and nothing like she used to be and everything like she used to be and so much better. Was this his friend, this fully grown woman with a face like all his best memories? Where his words? He was usually so good with them.

“That you, Masamune?” She asked, the ghost of a smile on her mouth.

“Well, hell.” SAY SOMETHING, YOU STUPID BASTARD. He forced a grin back—but then it arrived all on its own. “Wow. Damn. Where have you been this whole time, Kitten, Hollywood? You runnin’ everyone out of a job out there? Puttin’ those Hadids out of work?”

Her laugh was the same. Good God, it sent shivers all the way down his spine and into his toes. Her eyes crinkled and he wondered if he could bottle that expression. “You’re still calling me Kitten, huh?”

“Your fault for wearing cat socks all the time. I don’t see a reason to stop now, ‘specially now that you blinded me in my own driveway.”

Even her eye roll was a shot of nostalgia to the veins. What now? Did he shake hands? Masamune stared at his oil-slicked palms from changing the filter. “Well, if you don’t mind me smearing grease all over you… Shit, what am I asking for?”

“Oh my God, Masamune, do not rub motor oil on me!”

“Too late!” He charged forward. She squealed but didn't run; he caught her around the waist and squashed her against him, bringing her feet from the ground. Those eyes were wide with surprise and delight and so much joy. Something smelled of cinnamon and cloves. “God, is that your shampoo?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s great. You look great.”

She batted against his chest, wriggling in his grasp. “And you bulked up. What, you one of those CrossFit junkies or something now?”

“C’mon, don’t insult me like that. Their form is terrible.”

“And you ditched the glass eye.”

“It was hurting. Figured I might as well let the lid close up and deal with it. Not like I could see from it anyway.”

But she laced her hands around the back of his neck and tapped just above his brow. Such easy physical intimacy. Oh, how he’d missed that! They’d always been the most handsy of the friend group, never shying away from each other. “I wasn’t complaining. You rock the pirate look, Captain.”

Masamune snickered and clicked his tongue. “I’ll own that. I love some booty.”

With a roll of her eyes, she let the comment slide. “You busy? Wanna catch up?”

At last he let her slide from his arms, setting her feet on the ground. Why was the world so much colder when her body parted from his? “Hell yeah. Let me make you some gyoza and we’ll chat.”

#American Dream #commission #ikesen masamune #modern au #roadtrip story #angst #death mention tw

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starkie-md · 4 years

Text

“December 31st, 2019, WHO was informed of multiple cases of pneumonia in the city of Wuhan, China. It didn’t appear to be serious. March 11th, the virus known as Coronavirus, or COVID-16, was officially declared a pandemic. From then on, things only worsened. Countries began to go into lockdown, people stocked up months worth of materials from stores, leaving none for those who needed supplies. The number of confirmed cases continued to grow, as did the number of deaths. Officials recommended that individuals isolate to limit the risk of infection or spreading it. Lucky for me, I was already isolated. I had been isolated for as long as I could remember. How do I know this? Mother left a news article on her desk and I stumbled across it.

“The days went on and the world plunged into a seemingly endless void of anarchy, cruelty and greed. Is it wrong of me to wish that all of humanity had been snuffed out right then and there? If the virus had swiftly executed all human life, the violent chaos wouldn’t have been drawn out and I wouldn’t have been so bored. I began to wish I could go outside. I hadn’t been allowed outside for over 13 months. It wasn’t as if I were allowed outside in the garden much before, I could only go out if I had her supervision. Typically the servants would be kind enough to tell me what the world outside the house was like. The television could only do so much. Sometimes Mother would find out that they had been telling me things and they would disappear. I guess Mother believed that if they couldn’t be trusted to follow her rules, then they couldn’t be trusted, whatsoever. So she made them disappear, never to be heard from me again. She said it was for my best. The lady who came thrice a week stopped showing up when the virus broke out, as did the servants. They all disappeared from my life one by one until it was just Mother and me in the house.

“Seven months ago Mother’s telephone stopped working. She became hysterical, pacing the house for days, mumbling under her breath, several times I considered trying to wake her from the trance, but decided against it. I didn’t understand why she was so panicked, perhaps because the deliveries stopped. Every month there would be a knock, a postman would deliver a small package to Mother. I once attempted to find out what the contents of the package were, but Mother screamed at me, demanding I never snoop through her desk ever again. I do believe it was the cease of the package deliveries that sent my mother down her hysterical spiral. When the communication to the world stopped, Mother had her 3-day panic, then slowly began to shrink, turning into a shell of her former self. I saw her less and less every day as she would wake in the night and sleep during the day. She no longer greeted me in the morning with my vitamin, she could barely exchange pleasantries with me on the off occasion our paths would cross before she would scurry off to her bedroom. I began to grow lonely, I had no one to talk to anymore.

“Isolation was boring until I made friends. Mother couldn’t know about them, otherwise, she would have become more crazed. They were far better conversationalists than anyone else I had ever spoken to and they shared the same interests as I did! It was as if they were from a dream! Too good to be true! With my new secret friendships, I now had an ounce of freedom! Mother never allowed me any sort of freedom, confining me to the house for my entire life except for an occasional allowance to wander the garden with supervision. Her taking away all the servants that I grew too fond of, claiming that it was for my own good. Whenever a servant disappeared the lady would come to visit me, sometimes up to as much as 6 times a week, as per Mother’s request. But it wasn’t the same, the Lady only asked me questions, she refused to speak of herself or the world.

“You may be wondering why I'm telling my friends this when they already know. Simple, I had to refresh your mind, Mother. I thought it would be easier for you to follow if I explained it this way. Since you’ve become mute and no longer bathe yourself, I can no longer assume your mental capabilities are what they used to be. Look at you! You reek of the smell of the corpses of the servants that you buried after I had had my fun with them! The only good thing about you no longer speaking or pacing around the house like a madwoman is that I can finally find out what was in the packages! You can’t stop me, so what was your dirty little secret, Mother? Let me see…” I reached for the key to her locked drawer, where I knew she kept the package's contents under lock and key. I quickly unlocked the door????. The drawer was empty save for a small, plastic bottle. I picked it up, examining it and reading the label. “Clozapine? That’s an antipsychotic medication, is it not? Mother? Why do you have these? Is that why you lost your mind and went into a crazed frenzy when you realized the deliveries would stop? Why did you hide this from me? You could’ve told me that you were unwell, I would’ve taken care of you. You must have an extra pill? Let me check the drawer,” I mumbled before looking into the dusty drawer, feeling with my hand, grinning when my fingers brushed upon something. “Ahah!” I pulled it out, curious to examine what the pill would look like. I turned my hand to examine it, freezing when I realized how it looked familiar. “This- This is my vitamin. Why do you have my vitamin in an empty drawer… , these can’t be mine.” I turned the pill bottle in my other hand, fully reading the label, and there it was. My name, in all of its glory. “Mother?? Why were you giving me antipsychotics instead of vitamins? Why were you lying to me?” I took another step towards her, then immediately stepped back. The smell of her rotting flesh made me gag. “You liar! How dare you lie to me?!” I screamed, whipping the bottle and the pill at her, only to watch them collide with her lifeless head and fall to the floor. “You’re truly a monster, you know that?”

@cant-sit-straight

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