krasimer

[krasimer]

Anxiety: A Ghost Story

We have got to talk about the kids in all those Goosebumps books. For example, if your family vacation is to an amusement park called HORRORLAND, and your station wagon explodes in the parking lot upon arrival, maybe shrugging it off, buying an extra large popcorn, and heading straight for The Deadly Doom Slide is not your best possible course of action.

Or, if you steal a weird camera from your creepy neighbor’s basement and every picture you take shows bad things happening, like decapitation and Tofurkey, and then all the bad things from the pictures start happening, Stop Taking Pictures.

Or, if you move into your new house and there are a bunch of small children already living in your bedroom that your parents cannot see, maybe, don’t just grab a juice box and go play in the cemetery that is in your backyard.

Or, when I tell you of the ghosts that live inside my body; When I tell you I have a cemetery in my backyard and in my front yard and in my bedroom; When I tell you trauma is a steep slide you cannot see the bottom of, that my anxiety is a camera that shows everyone I love as bones, when I tell you panic is a stubborn phantom, she will grab hold of me and not let go for months– this is the part of the story when everyone is telling you to run.

To love me is to love a haunted house– it’s fun to visit once a year, but no one wants to live there, and when you say, “Tell me about the bad days,” it sounds like all the neighborhood kids daring each other to ring the doorbell, you love me like the family walking through Horrorland holding hands– You are not stupid, or careless, or even brave, you’ve just never seen the close-up of a haunting.

Darling, this love will not cure me. And this love will not scrape the blood from the baseboards, but it will turn all the lights on, it will bring basil back from the farmer’s market and it will plant it in every windowsill, it is the kind of love that gives me goosebumps, when you say to the ghosts, “If you’re staying, then you better make room,” and we kiss against the walls that tonight are not shaking, so we turn the music up and we dance to Miles Davis, and you say, “My god, this house. The way that it stands even on the months that no one goes into or comes out of it.”

How reckless, the way that I love like the first chapter of a ghost story. Like the gentlest hand reaching out of a grave.

[krasimer]

Ancient AU stuff

just in the case that i never get around to making more art for the au (which is entirely likely cause, this is me. I create AUs and then never touch on them again, or at least not for several several months) So I thought I’d share some of the concepts and ideas behind it

Keep reading

[krasimer]

Why in the hell can’t I turn off endless scrolling. 

Tumblr, what did you break this time.

[krasimer]

THE GOAT IS CURRENTLY STILL STANDING WITH FIVE HOURS LEFT OF 2019.

[krasimer]

http://shimejis.xyz/?referrer=DoW93Amxz9KrQ987a

Y’all. Please get a Shimeji. I love them and it’s a good distraction when my brain is messing with me. I have Sollux currently.

You can have multiple on your screen at once and they just wander around and you can have them sit on things and grab things. It’s a Chrome extension. Have fun!

[krasimer]

Story Time!

This one is going to be, uh...A little different. 

In honor of it having been twenty years since it happened, I figured I’d tell you guys about the Pipeline Explosion I Should Have Died In.

I was turning six that year, it happened in June, so I was five. June 10th, 1999. 

Putting it under a read more to save your dash.

My sister and I were at our daycare -- She’s two years older than me and the daycare also had pre-school to 1st grade. Our stepdad was running late to pick us up, but it wasn’t a big deal to us. There were snacks, people to play with, a playground, grownups who didn’t mind staying late to watch us. 

Now, this being 1999, no one really had cellphones yet. They existed, but they weren’t that widespread just yet. He’d called before heading out from someplace and they were just holding us there until he arrives -- about twenty or thirty minutes after the call. 

He arrived, packed up the kids, we got out. 

Normal day.

He had a bike that he used to get us all home -- I would ride on the back, my sister on the seat, him on the pedal. Balancing act. All fun and awesome. We went slowly.

On any other day, we would have stopped in the creek and played for a bit. Since he had been running late to get us, he was also running late to pick our mom up. The creek playing did not happen that day. We got within several blocks of our apartment and saw two guys pushing a car up a hill. We laughed about it for a second, then stopped in our tracks as an explosion and a mushroom cloud popped up in the distance. 

Our first thought was that the car we’d seen had exploded.

We kept heading home.

It took another twenty minutes and when we walked in, the phone was ringing off the hook. It was my mom. She was practically crying over the phone and all I really remember was that my sister was suddenly pushing me into our room to pack some of my stuff into a bag. We packed up, got down to my stepdad’s truck, threw our stuff in and drove off. 

It turned out that the creek we usually played in had been filled with gasoline by a failing pipeline and then a spark had been created. It was only a few blocks from our daycare, about eight blocks from our apartment, and my mom’s work had been evacuated. She’d stayed inside as long as possible to try and reach us. She’d seen a mushroom cloud over our daycare. Reminder: I was five, my sister was about to turn seven. Not quite two years between us, actually.

On the other side of my family, my dad’s mom carried a police scanner. She was a police reporter for years and a reporter at the time. My grandma had been hearing the news of three unidentified bodies, with no details other than the location everyone in the family knew we played. My dad couldn’t contact us, having only heard about it after we’d already gotten to the apartment and left again.

We picked up my mom, got to his house, settled in for the night to try and figure out what was happening. 

Three kids had died. One of them had gone to school with my sort-of-brother. 

If we hadn’t been running late, we would have been another three bodies in the creek. 

I don’t really know why I’m telling this story other than trying to deal with the trauma. You’d think that twenty years would be enough time to get over something, right? But we could have and probably should have died back then.

After my dad and grandma found out that we were still alive, my dad refused to let us out of his sight for about a week and a half. My stepdad would randomly stop what he was doing and call out to us in the house (We moved in with him after the explosion) until we answered. My grandma had a treat box -- you behave or do an extra chore, you get a treat. After the explosion and finding us all alive, my sister and I got the entire box at once.

My mom followed us around for a long while, when she wasn’t at work and we weren’t at school. 

Here, have some photos of the mushroom cloud and the exploded creek. 

The cloud could be seen from the San Juan Islands.

[krasimer]

@dartoften

There’s a door with a single keyhole - it will open regardless of what key you use to unlock it. All keys will open this door.

What’s on the other side, however, depends on the key 

[krasimer]

WEAR. YOUR. GODDAMN. HELMET.

Seriously. It saves lives. I see people riding bicycles without them all the time and the general thought about it is, “I’m not going fast or far, I’ll be fine!” 

Fun Fact: The height from the top of your head to the ground can, in fact, kill you. If you land in just the right way, even at low speeds, you can still die. If you crash and don’t hit your head but get tossed into traffic, you can get injured or die.

No excuses. No Ifs, Buts, or Ands. 

Wear. Your. Helmet.

Looking dorky versus Dying. Your choice.

Why You Should Always Wear Your Helmet.

[krasimer]

DO NOT SPLIT THE FUCKING VOTE BECAUSE YOU’RE MISINFORMED BY THE MEDIA TRYING TO SLANDER THE DEM. NOMINEE. 

VOTE, VOTE, VOTE!!!!

[krasimer]

when i watched good omens, i didn’t expect to love tv crowley, and it fuckin blindsided me. all at once, i thought, oh gosh, damn, and fuck, roughly in that order, and here’s why.

where tv crowley and book crowley most significantly diverge is the bookshop fire. in the book, “Crowley cursed Aziraphale, and the ineffable plan, and Above, and Below.” in the tv show, instead of cursing him, he calls out for him desperately before falling to the floor with a quiet “you’ve gone.” for book crowley, az is “Aziraphale. The Enemy, of course. But an enemy for six thousand years now, which made him a sort of friend.” for tv crowley, aziraphale is his “best friend.” naturally, in the bookshop fire, tv crowley is in fucking agony. this is not how book crowley reacts.

see, one of book crowley’s most basic traits is his optimism. “Because, underneath it all,” the book says, “Crowley was an optimist. If there was one rock-hard certainty that had sustained him through the bad times—he thought briefly of the fourteenth century—then it was utter surety that he would come out on top; that the universe would look after him.”

it’s a really beautiful passage. and i can’t relate to it at all. 

after the fire, book crowley thinks he might “get completely and utterly pissed out of his mind while he waited for the world to end.” where book crowley only considers it, tv crowley actually does it. he does go to wait out the end of the world while drunk, and does give up, and he does break down, and he is not an optimist; he is a mess. that struck me. i’ve never seen a heroic character so blatantly need help before. but crowley gets help; he finds a friend and confesses how much aziraphale means to him; he gets back in the car and forges onward through the fire, even though he’s clearly Not Okay.

and there, on the flaming m25, book crowley and tv crowley diverge again. tv crowley is not an optimist; he’s not holding the bentley together with the hope that it’ll all work out. but he does it anyway. tv crowley doesn’t have optimism, but he has something that is, to me, even more important. in the show, “Crowley has something no other demons have, especially not Hastur: an imagination.”

an imagination. strangely enough, in the book, crowley admits to lacking it: “They’ve got what we lack. They’ve got imagination,” book crowley says. but tv crowley has that imagination, and that is what saves him–and that, to me, makes so much sense.

tv crowley is traumatised. when he fell, some part of him broke, and while he claims he “sauntered vaguely downwards,” he really took a “million-light-year freestyle dive into a pool of boiling sulphur,” and it hurt. tv crowley is hurt. and so am i. 

i also give up. i also break down. i don’t, and can’t, ever believe that the universe is looking out for me–or for anyone. i am not an optimist. but you know what? i have imagination. i have friends. and if it came down to me to help save the world, that is exactly what i would rely on.

[krasimer]

[krasimer]

i just had the weirdest moment, i was feeling my front teeth with my tongue because they’re the tiniest bit crooked, and then i had the thought “i’ll check if they’re also crooked in my other mouth” and then i realized to my shock and confusion that i have only one mouth, leading me to believe that in a past life i was a terrible monster with two mouths

[krasimer]

Good Omens AU where nothing changes except that upon realizing that Warlock isn’t the antichrist they absentmindedly bring him along for the ride, and he’s just like in the background playing gameboy or something in every scene

[krasimer]

So it’s been a while

How about another story from the life of Krasimer?

I’m a cosplayer. Firstly, let’s get that out of the way. Secondly, as many people who know me can attest to, I am absolutely batshit crazy about Halloween. Like, I start celebrating the moment August rolls around (Don’t you dare judge me.)

Anyway. 

Last year, for Halloween, I was in college. We were allowed to wear costumes on campus and there was a trick or treating event at my school. This allowed me to dress up as creepily as I wished because I have always wanted to do costumes in a major way -- I might do them for theaters at some point in the future? -- anyway. I wanted to do something simple that could be broken down easily if I wanted to move easier afterward. 

I chose Little Georgie, from It. As in, the creepy version of the child who got murdered. The version controlled by Pennywise. 

I had the balloon and everything. I had the raincoat. I had the boots. I had dark makeup smeared around my eyes and I had blood dripping down the sleeve of the coat. (Another story to tell later is the story of ACQUIRING THAT FUCKING COAT, but this is not that story.) 

I went to class. With my balloon, which I had rigged so that it “Floated” without helium -- I wrapped a thick wire in white yarn and made it look like it was a normal balloon. It just didn’t shift around and that creeped people out even more. 

But I went to class. 

Dude across the classroom wearing a pajama onesie looked up from where he sat down to see me sitting there. He squinted, frowned, looked a little closer and saw the special effects. He then jerked back in his chair and looked like he wanted to run away. 

He came up to me after class and asked me if I was Little Georgie. I said yes and he grinned. 

I should also mention, I do amateur voicework. I can imitate the, “You’ll Float Too!” thing. Like, dead-on. I did this in front of him and he almost fell over sideways. 

I got a lot of candy. 

Another “Should mention” thing was that it was EXTREMELY foggy that day. So I’m wandering around in a bloody raincoat, with a bright red balloon, in the thick fog and people cannot see me until they are right next to me. 

It was Beautiful.

And that was last Halloween. 

[krasimer]

Halloween is something to look forward to. Sometimes you need the little things.

:/