jocechun

[jocechun]

Spill it all. Let it flow through you, dog.

Let’s hit some reality up in this.

Let me paint you a picture. Weave this brush and throw in some color for you listen to the story of a boy.

Roughly five years ago a boy was there, sitting in his room, playing a popular massively multiplayer online role-playing game alone in the middle of the night. He was finishing up his last year of high school with little on his mind other than socializing with the players in the game he had been absorbed in for years prior to this night and ignoring all prospects of the future. The usual background hum of the fan in the dead of night abruptly drowned out the sudden sound of a woman crying, screaming, or the usual arguing over things like money with another older feminine tone and the like. This voice belonged to his mother, a single woman for as long as he could remember, a woman who tried her best to raise three children on her own after being left by numerous others.

His mother suffered from depression. On more than one occasion the boy found himself in possession of her medication to prevent her from overdosing purposefully on the pills. She desperately wanted to be loved. She refused to believe her very children did so, she wanted love from a man. A lover. She went through many men, all of them scum in their own unique way. Some addicts, some liars, some thieves, some users, others abusers. She was desperate, and adapted her own personality to that of who would accept her. If the one who would hold her in his arms was a user of a certain narcotic, she would begin to partake in such a substance as well. If one were of a more aggressive nature she would vent a similar rage onto her children in a similar, only psychological nature.

The boy did not even bother to learn the names of these men who came into his home. He knew they would not be there long. He looked at them with the greatest amount of silent distrust and unwillingness to accept as a passive introvert of a young adult could. He carried on to absorb himself into a game and block out the constant train wrecks that continued to assault his home-life.

Then, someone came in one night. He didn’t know this man. He knew his mother did due to the constant sounds of sex coming from the other side of the wall that he tried to drown out with headphoned music blasting. The position becoming extremely awkward when the left headphone died and he could hear it all, but that’s sidetracking. He introduced himself to the boy and, hesitantly, he returned the gesture as he continued to sit there, playing his online computer game.

Over time he saw more and more of this man. His mannerisms slowly falling off and becoming part of the boy’s own. After a while he noticed that, in his eyes, the boy saw almost an older version of himself in the man. Not so much a father-figure yet, but a friend. Someone whom truly understood his habits, his interests and could aid him in the things he wished to learn. All those hobbies and tasks he did alone, he finally had someone who would willingly and excitingly accompany him. All this, and the weirdest thing… his mother was smiling more. She was happy. She wasn’t crying. The boy thought, finally, things would work.

Finally.

The years roll by, the man and the mother wed, the family is happy. Parties, friendly banter, movie nights, things the family never once did before… they finally connected and acted as a true family should. 

But then the crying started again.

The shouting. The accusations, the arguments of money, the worthlessness of another, the emotional out-bursts, the pills. So many pills.

In attempts to mend the shaky relationship the two decided to purchase their own real home together. With this, they thought, they could move past things. They could mature and truly rely on one another and grow old together. Things were wonderful for all but a handful of weeks. Then it all began again. The boy found himself lucky this time, his room finding recluse in the back of the house away from the screams and the shouts. He found himself staying up every night until the sun rises, falling asleep restlessly, being woken up almost as if on queue by sobbing of an emotionally abused woman, a woman whom he loved, but was only a man in age, not maturity. His own nervousness, his own scared personality, his own unwillingness to stand up and try to change it all keeping himself locked in his room, refusing to step forward and say that enough was enough. To be able to step up and protect the woman who protected him from the world during his days of innocence - he couldn’t do it.

He wasn’t strong enough to step up to the pain he witnessed every day, he was too much of a coward. He knew it was coming. He knew the accusations his mother made, the ones which she spoke of to which people deemed her simply paranoid, were absolutely true. He knew as well as his mother that the man had, for many months, been psychologically abusing the heart of the mother. All the while sleeping with another. Toying with the mother’s heart strings like a toy to toss around the room like a piece of junk - he treated her like nothing, completely different from when he first entered the boy’s, now man’s, life.

The biggest question that ran through the boy’s mind. The most confusing thing of it all he continued to ask himself was: Why would a man come into the life of someone, only to absolutely destroy her. To further crumble a woman’s trust in men after being abused and mistreated by innumerable individuals throughout the entirety of her life. All the while, all the while, treat the boy like nothing was wrong. To joke around with him, to treat him like a son. To treat him like a friend. To befriend him and let the boy begin to look up to him as the first father figure in his life, while you sit there and torment the only mother he has ever known.

Venting status: Achieved.

Sup.

[jocechun]

NCM1-1 Remastered HD Collection

An edit/addition to something I wrote five months ago.

For the full experience, I recommend that you read through this twice. For the first time, go read it straight through WITHOUT looking at the ‘Keep reading…’ part (or everything after CALL ENDED, if you’re looking at this directly from my blog?). For the second, open up the “Keep reading…” portion, and use it as a reference while you read through again.

     Well, I hoped for the best. What else could I do, right? This wasn’t the first time that she missed a date. Always said it was due to work, which was usually true. Normally she’d text me, though, if she couldn’t make it. She’d apologize profusely, promise to make it up to me in very convincing ways. Y’know, the year that we were together, I think we had more makeup dates than actual dates. For a while, I was convinced that she was stringing me along, like she maybe had someone else on the side, or I was the ‘someone else.’I had no idea what she was really up to—not until she told me.      She, uh, wasn’t a reporter. I don’t know who she worked for, not exactly, but it wasn’t media. Government would be my pick, although I can’t get more specific than that. Can’t. She never said. What she did say was that the work she was doing, if she succeeded, could save countless lives. Yeah, I know; originally, I thought she was being dramatic too—she was good at that—but there was this one day, about six months before the pandemic hit. She just showed up. Looked like she’d been crying, something I’d never seen her do. A friend of hers passed, she told me, and wouldn’t say more than that. There was more to it, of course; I could see it on her face. That, and she kept looking out through the blinds. It was that night that she gave me the cipher there. Said that one day—maybe one day soon—she’d need me to use it, then left as quickly as she came.      But, I’m sorry, you were asking about the night she…Like I said, it was the day before the pandemic, so July 3rd. She was supposed to meet me for lunch during my office hours. No-show. Didn’t hear from her until after I got home, several hours later. That was the longest she’d ever gone without getting back to me, and it was during that time that I did one the thing I promised her I’d never do: I panicked. I called her about six times, I think? Sent twice as many texts? I knew as I was doing it that it probably wasn’t helping—but I didn’t know what else to do. Didn’t even know I cared that much.       I was three or four beers into the evening by the time she got back to me, half-assing the homework grades for the summer classes I was roped into teaching, some TBS sitcom going through the motions in the background. My heart about stopped in my chest when the phone rang.

Bzzt. Bzzzzzt. Bzzzzzt—

     “Hey, you.” She spoke first; her usual greeting.      “Hey, yourself. Where have you—”      “Miles? I can barely hear you.”      “Shit, hang on.” I fumbled for the remote and jabbed the mute. “There, that better?” Silence. “Elaine?”      “Mhm. Yeah, hey, I don’t have long. Just wanted to say sorry about missing our thing earlier—”      “Is everything alright?”      “Yeah, yeah. I—.” Hesitation. “I was just caught up in meetings all day. Got this career-making project that’s kicking into full swing.”      “Meetings.”      “…Yup.”      “You couldn’t sneak away for two seconds to send me a text?” I tried to mask my anger. Don’t think I did a very good job.      “Sorry.”      That was it. That was all she had for me. None of her usual promises of late-night visits, or clandestine campus meetups—just a palpable chunk of nothing. I waited, too.      “…Okay, uhm, do you want to maybe try again tom—”      “Hey, did you get Mrs. Cooper’s package for her?” She cut me off. The question came out of nowhere; there was an urgency there that wasn’t before.      “Mrs. Cooper…my neighbor, Mrs. Cooper?”      “Yeah, she asked me to ask you if you’d sign for it ‘cause they were going out of town.”      “…When was this?”      “A few days ago, when you had me go all the way over there to feed Max while you were working.”      I froze. Max was my cat. Emphasis on was. By that point, he’d been dead for three months—something that she knew very well, having been the one who found him. Something wasn’t right. She continued.      “She caught me as I was leaving. She went on and on about how she picked up this filing cabinet for cheap online, how it was some big name-brand so it was a steal, and god, she wouldn’t shut up about the drawer space. I left you a post-it about it on your monitor. Did it fall off or something?”      “…Uh, I dunno. Maybe.” I understood now. “Let me go check.”      I pushed up from the couch and made the trek from the living room to my office, chest thumping, legs like straws. Immediately, I went straight past the desk and to the filing cabinet. It was this silver piece with deep, locking drawers. Name-brand. Found it online for a third of its regular price. It was a steal. I pulled open the bottom drawer as delicately as I could; I had to be quiet. Blindly, I sifted through the folders and found my way to the back—the very back—and grabbed what I knew to be the notebook that I was looking for.      “Got it.”      “The package?”      “The note. Found it next to my keyboard. You sure it was supposed to come today? I don’t remember seeing a slip—actually, let me make sure.” I tried to be as genuine as possible, but the realization of was happening hit me hard.       Out the office, through the living room, right out the front door. Crickets. As soon as the porch light flickered on, I looked around for a slip I knew didn’t exist.      A car went by.       “Yeah, no, not seeing anything. Do you want me to—”      “No, it’s fine,” she sighed. “It’ll probably get there tomorrow, though, so be on the look-out.”      “Yes, ma’am.” I dusted off the porch chair by the door and sunk onto it, already flipping through the notebook to the appropriate page. “So, have you eaten?” A beat of silence. “I mean, you’ve been in meetings all day, right?”      “Nope, not since breakfast, now that I think about it. I meant to grab a donut or something between presentations, but got caught up.”       My heart sank. “Can you—I know it’s late, but can you order something? Have it delivered, maybe?”      “I would, but I think everything’s closed. Everything that I’d want, anyway.”      “Well, how about this?” I tried to keep my breathing even. “I’m pretty sure the Thai place is still open. I’ll go grab you something and drop it off? It’ll probably be cool, but you can always nuke it—”      “Eh, that’s okay,” she broke in. “I’ll be fine. We’re at one of the other offices today, anyway.”      “Oh, uh, didn’t know you guys had more than one location. Where’s this one located?”      “Connecticut. Not the most ideal commute, but you know how that goes.”      “Oh.” I barely squeezed the word out, my throat was so tight. How was she so damn calm?       Another car crept by.      “…Miles?”      “Yeah, I’m here. Listen, no pressure, but uh, think you’ll be done anytime soon? Should I wait up, or…?”      “Mmm, probably not. Looks like it’s going to go on for a while. I’ll text you when I make it back home, though, ‘kay?”      “Sure, yeah.”      “’Kay. Look, I really need to get back to it, alright? They’re waiting for me in there.”      “Oh, sorry. Didn’t mean to keep you. Good luck in—”      “I love you, Mi—.” CALL ENDED

Keep reading

[jocechun]

Chidorigafuchi

[jocechun]

“I want a relationship that turns into a blessing… Not a lesson”

— @therelatabletexts (via therelatabletexts)

[jocechun]

I wanna make a lot memories this summer

[jocechun]

171210 - 171216 | my favorite part of breakfast! 🍳

[jocechun]

Geography notes again haha☘️ Last day of this term💫can’t wait to go back home✨ 

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studygram

[jocechun]

*gets one minor thing done* o wow. i did good. i need to treat myself to a snack and a 40 minute episode of a tv show and a nap….,..

[jocechun]

Outside the crowd

Feel free to follow me also on Instagram :) Thanks!

[jocechun]

[jocechun]

[jocechun]

its ‘im ready to be loved’ o'clock

[jocechun]

if u ever meet someone who u vibe w naturally & they make u feel so good about urself don’t ever lose that person. don’t let them go.. that shit is hard to find

[jocechun]

Trust me u don’t wanna know how cold I can be.

[jocechun]

the biggest lie i ever told & how my husband came to protect it

for years i have lived this lie telling everyone i am allergic to peanuts because i hate the smell of peanut butter and don’t really like peanut butter that much but whenever i used to tell people i don’t like peanut butter they’d get all defensive like “peanut butter is amazing how do you not like it?!” and then i’d have to go into this whole thing to defend my taste buds.

but then i got tired of it and started telling people that i’m just allergic to peanuts because that way it’s not my fault that i hate the smell of peanut butter - it’s now like i’m a sad little baby who will never get to taste peanut butter ever in her life and everyone feels sad for me.

but the problem is that i really love peanut m&ms and so now i can only eat peanut m&ms when i’m at home in secret. the only person who knows my lie is my husband. and so at work this evening we had a small celebration for someone and they had peanut m&ms and i really wanted some but obviously couldn’t eat them in public because then people would know my peanut secret. 

and so when we got home after work my husband tipped his jacket over and emptied his pockets and at least thirty or so peanut m&ms fell out of his pockets and he whispered, “i was sneakily accumulating them all night for you because i could see the pain in your eyes.”

and if that isn’t love then i don’t know what is. 

[jocechun]

me, as my laptop fan suddenly becomes louder: what is it?? what program?? who is doing this to you????

[jocechun]