#And talking to myselves can only go this far!

[kafkaoftherubble]

237不止没有改进236，还他妈的直接... //CH237 did not improve CH236. In fact, it fucking—

Spoilers for Jujutsu Kaisen CH237.

Damn. This chapter blows as a belated Gojo fan. Also blows as a character-work fan. Or a "surprise me with an interesting and creative maneuver after the last chapter" fan. I should be glad I didn't inhale dangerous amounts of copium last week beyond small doses and hope.

You know what feels like the point of JJK as of this writing? "Be an asshole, or lose." Megumi ain't an asshole, is he? So there you go. He kept getting punished. Bruh had been an L magnet for a while now for sure, but at CH237 you can reasonably believe he's in that same afterlife airport in yet another offscreen death. At this rate JJK is gonna feel like a fundamentalist/millennialist Christian talking point: "This life on Earth is shit. You can only hope for salvation in the afterlife. No point trying to fight suffering while living; no point dreaming about improvement. True happiness only exists after you die... In God's Kingdom Gojo's airport, mai furrendo. Until Sukuna Reality-cut through even the afterlife, that is."

Megumi had a lot of characterization early on, man. He's got an interesting psychology, legitimate mental growth, a self-ish goal revolving around Tsumiki, a selfless goal revolving around his definition of being a jujutsu sorcerer, a dynamic of interesting potentials between himself and Yuji + himself and Satoru + himself and Tsumiki + himself and the Zenin clan (or whatever's left of it), and a canonically busted technique. We would have been so stoked to see what Megumi himself could do with Ten Shadows, especially when it's said to rival the Gojo clan's Limitless.

Instead, when the 10 Shadow vs. Limitless fight happened, it was Sukuna who demonstrated how good it was, not the young hero we're rooting to master it. And now comes CH237 and Sukuna's like, "Yea, this technique was just an Anti-Gojo move so I can forget this now that he's 2.5jo. Bye Megumi's L Magnet body! Bye Megumi's soul; thanks for tanking Unlimited Void that one time! MAGICAL GIRL TRANSFORMATION SEQUENCE! BELIEVIX, SO MAGICAL!"

Was the whole point of Megumi's existence just to erase Satoru? Were all those previous hints to Megumi's character development and psychology just haphazard salad dressings?

And man. Because I'm, indeed, a Gojo fan, what really bummed me out is this growing realization: Satoru seemingly still dead right now really lends substance to people who said he's the single-most stupidest loser in this story ever. He has never made any right choice, has he? Even his insistence on not executing Yuji, which was framed to be a move for a noble cause back then (I'll die on this hill; I really can't see it as a self-motivating cause no matter how some people might like to paint it), is now seen as a stupid choice that doomed the future because of how much the villains are winning right now (while the strongest guy on the good guys' side is chilling with "no regrets" in an afterlife airport).

You'd at least hope that Satoru managed to introduce some permanent damage to Sukuna for the rest of the camp. Lose the battle, win the war. But apparently, from the looks of it, that didn't last. Sukuna magical-girled into his Second Stage Boss form. It's reasonable that his brain just got renewed from this, which means Malevolent Shrine may be back on the table already. And any (meager) damage Satoru had left on him from their fight is just wiped clean. Bruh even has his dumbbell-looking weapon (it's actually a legit weapon in Hindu myth if I recall correctly, though what exactly is the name slipped my mind this time) now.

Hell, that simp Uraume is still alive and kicking. Satoru didn't even offscreen that annoying twerp with his 200% Hollow Purple at the beginning of the fight. Now Uraume is presumably acting out those Gamble God(赌神) Chinese New Year Hong Kong movies with Hakari up there in the sky.

Honestly Gojo Satoru, are you sure you were the strongest at all? Or have you just been subjected to that old Chuck Norris meme, where tales of Chuck Norris being "the strongest" in the most ridiculous ways possible spread among people—except in your case, everyone including yourself believed it? 'Cause man, the story disrespects you so hard now.

Oh, and don't bother looking for Satoru's body among the rubble. Nor bother with the cast's emotional reaction. No Yuji, no Yuta, no nobody except Kashimo and Hakari. Some said this might allude to a background event—maybe Satoru is being patched up in the background as we speak, ya know?

But I don't know. It's just... better not to expect anything at this point. Better not to cook unless the intention is to write fanfics and what-ifs for yourself or your community. I do neither of those things, so I don't wanna try cooking at all. "Nekkhamma", man. Non-attachment is the better frame of mind by this point.

Still gonna stick with JJK though because hey, I still wanna evaluate things when it's all said and done. I'm not gonna try persuading my best friend into seeing it with me when Season 3 comes, though. Her fav is Nanami and she's only interested in Satoru because of me. By this metric, there's no point in having her stick around past her personal interests. She's not even one who likes pointless tragedies nor is she wanting of shows to watch, aye, Fionn?

Sukuna fans can rejoice, though. He reclaims the form Sukuna fans wanted to see for years! And he's more powerful than ever and is indisputably the King of Curses very likely riding into a non-airport style victory (unless Kenjaku screws him). In addition to being the strongest and poetic (that's the character depth non-Sukuna fans like myself missed at our peril, I suppose), he's—by his admission—an unwanted child with a hint of him "working to become the strongest" (this has been a pretty persistent fanon for a while now. Just need a confirmation.). He also doesn't know "love." And thinks everyone else is trash. There are some genuinely interesting possibilities to speculate about his background based on the breadcrumbs provided CH237 though. I wonder if the conjoined twin theory is true!

Hey, Gege? If you're transitioning Jujutsu Kaisen to Sukuna Kaisen, might as well start throwing the most meaningful bones to Sukuna fans, okay? No more being coy. Just tell them his backstory. Hell, I'll stick around out of curiosity alone... even if I hate an asshole who never gets punished.

Thank you for reading my ramble.

[cb-ps]

Basic Cake and an Esplanade

Today is nearing the end of April. This is what defines how disappointing the rest of the year goes like, because it has already been a hell of a month. Travel was not so fortuitous in my horoscope this chapter, with things looking more like I am drafted back in towards My-Old-Parents'-House; but it goes along with being creative in a Dutiful Springtime. Nearing May, things known as recipes on the board are more like scattered hash and grapple-muffins, there is just enough of what sounds like "right now for brunch" for that excessive crunch of flax seeds, and quinoa.

What does it matter? I'd done this fantastic half-baked bread, where I roll it in scores of quick-bake (aldente? ) quinoa, to save it for later, or for soups. You can prettymuch use that as what cornbread is in the southern states, whether you'd prefer that entree as a bother of french toast, or more like mashed potatoes are to gravy. It's also one of those good-for-you things, and doesn't taste half bad when nuked over sourdough. You'd have to try it with an appropriate sauce, though. All through the graciously misted length of this time of the year leading up to our favorite summertime weather, baked french toast made with too many eggs and cheesecaake crust are what's sitting on Sommebat's posh ass doilies. They're all covered in sprinkles, and it looks like a plate of charades, then in breaking out the lavender, allspice, and creme, this actually celebrated the recent new lava-formed templates out in the world, with some info about planetary moons. I'm alright with all that, because what sparkles and shines isn't all up for a tart, and then neither is it so perpetual that it can take itself up as a day falling sunbeams and radio DJ's, but it keeps those real sketchers glowing. Talking outright sprite about the week-to-week joys of eating something good doesn't get old. I'll have to update the Scrapbook, and the Actual Looks pages, here right quickly ---- I have not done the same thing twice since we were eating blokey croissants, looking internationally about Swiss Cheeses. Before food does us in for the innuendum ~ I'd also like to mention again how wonderful Milkshakes are, and that they may be the only thing keeping some people of us alive, during any fathomable crisis letalone a health-procuring standard one; so don't forget Your Favorite Day[s]. #avakinlife is the better Mirror Emblem in all days gone by, so far. I've got a lot of writing I think I'm going to spend a few days specifically avoiding people during, but I'll get those pictures up while I'm working through the yada-grovels. Unfathomably, this week-by-week parlor dip is concurrent with finding out the homestead is riddled with cancer, and it makes my life more difficult. Don't be asueded by the thought it's mine; I've got enough dap in my own apothecary --- I'm here working between myselves and all my shelves and all that stuff, and mum's got thin-air. Travel doesn't even sit right there, it too, is kind of all over the place. #besupportive I can't wait to pick up that dishwashing gig. Need the quicker bandwagon to fix the sinker. Cheers 'til Deer Stew, Cinnamon Blithe

[bnha-l0ver]

Narration #4

***DISCLAIMER: This is just going to serve as a compilation of the narration that has been done in the story so far (Chapter 1-214). Keep in mind, the story is pretty long now, so I’ll keep adding on. In other words, it’s a work in progress. Either way, enjoy!!!***

• [TWICE’S NARRATION; around the time (or a little before) that everyone was taking the provisional license exam]

> Kanagawa Prefecture. Two weeks after the battle in Kamino Ward and All Might’s retirement. Day after day, television networks and the internet were buzzing with idle chatter fanning the flames of anxiety.”

> “You’re not like the rest Mr. Miyagi. I respect that. I don’t.”

(N/ The bold part of his narration is Twice replying to himself. Now it hasn’t been directly stated, but I believe that’s his other personality)

> “As far as the average person is concerned, the biggest change to them is mostly limited to this guy. The one who moved on up to become the number one hero. Endeavor. Certainly, much of the anxiety stems from this individual. He’s just not the type of person everyone can accept. Described with a single word, he’s...”coarse.” From where I am, he just looks like an ordinary person pretending to be a superhuman. An uncontrollable force was what elevated him to this undeserved position. I’m sure it’s not a pleasant topic for him either. To become the symbol of the weakening heroes...if it were me, I wouldn’t want anything to do with that.”

> “The “weakening” of heroes isn’t referring to their power. It’s a matter of their spirit. Miyagi knows that all too well. “I am here.” For those who lived normal lives, they were heartwarming words, but for those who didn’t, they were a curse.”

(N/ By the way to anyone wondering who Mr. Miyagi is, he is the tv announcer with the one horn cut off. Short background on him, Miyagi ended up cutting off his one horns so that it wouldn’t interfere with the broadcast)

> “Scoundrels who have formed their own little cliques and are operating in a planned and systematic fashion have begun to stand out more and more.”

> “Let me tell you a story...back in the day, I also enjoyed my share of mischief...my Quirk is “doubling.” I make one into two. A simple ability. I cloned myself...over and over and over again...and before I knew it, I had created a team of myselves. I made my clones do everything for me. I was my own king. However, I harbored resentment at the fact that I was the king...I was almost killed by myself. The things I double can withstand a certain amount of damage before they disappear. Each of us claimed to be the real me, and we begun to argue. Can you imagine it? This maniacal situation dragged on for a week and two days. At the end of it, we had all killed each other, and vanished. Even now, I’m not certain as to whether I am the real me. I’m unable to tell.”

> “Maniacs have no place where they belong or call home. The people that heroes save are always virtuous people, and no one else.”

> “If I’m able to be of use to the alliance that accepted me for who I was, then I think I can be happy being who I am.”

> “What I was searching for were others who are just as crazy as I am. Maniacs who are wandering this world, seeking a place where they belong.”

> “It seems like this lot of maniacs has started to make their own place where they belong.”

(N/ Twice is referring to Overhaul and his Precepts)

> “At the moment, the League of Villains is scattered across various locations, not only to conceal themselves from ongoing investigations, but most importantly...to find other like-minded individuals and expand their organization.”

> “Both the heroes’ side and the villains’ side have begun to undergo a change in appearance...what’s important is understanding who you are. What you want to become...what you want to do...this is of the utmost importance.”

(N/ if I haven’t explained before I usually try to color coordinate the text if someone is talking other than Midoriya. Say Midoriya Inko, All Might, Bakugo, and any villians will be these colors. Even if I don’t, I’ll try to specify who is narrating if it’s someone else.

[creepylittlemarvelgirl]

Just some thoughts of a real disturbed person

Hey! My name is Domi, and I suffer from major psychic deseases, such as anxity, depression and self destructive tendencies.

Trying to live a normal life is harder for someone like me than for average people. And I can’t help myselve anymore.

I’m too anxious and mistrusting to talk to doctors and my so-caled friends left me all by myself, misundestanding and disapproving, thinking I’m weird because I’m too sensitive… I feel all alone in this world.

My family is awesome, but can’t help me. I refuse to take pills which change my character and put my brain into a blender working at the highest level. Feels too squishy inside, feels wrong, feels just like being pulled out of myself and something else is being stuffed in, like riding a strange human-shaped vehicle with no real connection to the world around, not being able to think or feel… no pills for me…

All my ‘friends’ - those people I was at school with - are successful, have families, children or a great carrer in wonderful jobs. Someone who loves and appreciates them, or even enough money to travel, or to live well, or at least to buy health - physic and psychologic.

I’m all alone. Every one I had in my live, every man I loved left me. I used to think it was because they were too weak, but it was because I am too sick. Not only psychological but also physical.

I never had much luck in my live. Sometimes I think I consumed all the luck of my life when I was a kid. Or more precisely a tomboy. I allways tried to keep up with the elder boys, trying stunts with the bike - hell, I think I was five or six years old - oh god, I was so fearless. I never thought of consequences, I… just… sort of… DID things. Because I thought it could be fun. Other kids were fun. Being active was fun. Just doing without thinking was fun. I was in hospitals quite often to get stitched together again. Fingers, an eyebrow…but that wasn’t so scary at all.

At elementary school - I suppose - I began to fear other kids. I lived in a small district of a small village. They called it the ghetto of the village, 2 kilometers away from the main provincial town. We were outsiders, aliens, just moved here from another part of the country. We? My sister and I. We’ve allways had a tough time. But she came out of it as the winner. Me instand…I am a real loser. We both were bullied, but she is strong. I am not.

At the age of 8, the pain I felt for about 2 years in my right hip brought me to the hospital, diagnosis: congenital dislication of the hip. And the doctors telling me not to walk one more step or I will have to live a life in a wheelchair. 2 weeks later and they would never had the chance to help me. It means no sports for a long time. No jumping around. No running or riding the bike anymore.

And I got fat…and depressed. At the age of 14 the last ridge broke. No warning, no trigger, no point at which anything could be changed or be done different. Just deep sadness. Pure loneliness. The feeling of having no control over anything. And the painful fear of people, as well as the deep fear of being alone and isolated because noone seemed to care. It was the years of one of the biggest mistakes in my whole life. Rejecting my best friend - my only true friend - telling me to love me for quite a while. Stupid…hurting the only one who stepped in when the others not only bullied but beat me up.

Secondary school was a pain in the ass. The best school in the next greater town was a catholic girls school. Yay…barbies and I-am-better-than-everyone-attitudes. And more bullying. More enemies. More fear. To wake up, to get up, to lose more and more control of what will come next.

The school psychologist told me I was not ill, but there is simply nobody who likes me or cares about me. Just like that. A teen sitting across the table of the liaison teachers room crying her heart out for chists sake and all this woman told me that I am the asshole in my own sad story. And I believed it. I must have been a realy mean person, from my 4th year of my live up to this moment at the age of 16…maybe 17 years. Fuck. I was a monster because everyone hated me. Everyone despite the outsiders. The lonely ones. The weirdos. I seemed to geather them all around me. They never liked me or loved me…but they tollerated me.

After I finished school - I did my ‘abitur’, not bad for me having depression and dyslexia and poor cognitive performance because of the depression - I was too down to chose a way in live. I lost 2 years because I had to repeat. I was unlovable, stupid, a goth/punk/what ever, a kind of outlaw and I never knew what to do. To fullfill my dreams I was to weak. As a child I wanted to become a singer and actor, I was on stage in school theatre and sang at christmas plays. But for that I was too fearful. Not self-confident enough. Not good enough. I liked sewing but no one wanted to educate me so I could go to design school…to become a fashion designer. I tried to become a goldsmith, applied me to nearly every crearive apprenticeship I could think of. But no luck. Used it up as a child, remenber? So I was bold and tried to study, together with my boyfriend. I was 22. He left me shortly after we started. And I lost my courage. I was so deep in my depression…he was a gamer as well as I was…and still am. After that I started an apprentice at a medical supply shop for patients. They gave me a chance. But what a price to pay… without my next boyfriend I don’t think I would have take the chance. The second year he left me - for my best friend. I was devastated. So deep down in my depression…I wanted to die and tried to achieve this…but my sister rescued me…and took me to an asylum.

I was too smart to talk about everything in my mind. I talked about some of my fears, some of my thoughts, some of my problems, but not quite each and everything. They would have never let me go again, I’m quite sure of that. I did all the exercises I had to do and after 5 weeks I could go back home and work again. I fought…again…and again I won. But this struggle exhausted both my last bit of luck and cosmic favor AND my last fighting spirit. I simply never wanted to be forced to fight anymore. I was so tired.

My life went on. My friends who saw what heappened and pulled me out of my deep hole of sadness and disgusting self-pity are long gone now. I never gained the trust too love somebody or to let somebody in again. I am still a lonely child, stuck in a hostile world. About 7 years has passed. And I got nothing quite to live for. I loved to sew, to paint, to tinker, to collect…but I never seem to have enough energy to do both, to live AND to work. My work consumes all my energy.

I cry allot. In the evenings, when my brain runs out of chemical messengers…out of serotonin and other body’s own happy-substances…when I’m all alone in my flat that depresses me even more. The low ceilling, the missing sunlight, the location too far away from my work place. I don’t even have a pet being allergic to cats, dogs, rabbits, birds…and I love animals so much…

Why I write this? I don’t even know! Perhaps because it is much easier to write to an anonymous audiance than to speak to 'friends’ who you know never will understand a thing…a word…and you know will say: don’t be so sensitive! Stop whining! Are you like 4 or what? …I think I write this because I know there are others like me, struggelling every flarking day to just stay alive because of all the problems, the downs, the sorrows, the anxity, the depression…we love life. And some people just see crybabies whining… sure, could be worse… could be homeless, hungry and… well deadly ill… but who says I/we am/are not? I’m living in a cruel world without anyone who wants to provide a shelter. I’m hungry for love and paitence and hugs and cuddling kittens and puppies and the man I love… if there even was one. And having suicidal tendencies IS a fucking deadly illness despite everyone thinking it isn’t. So go fuck yourselfe! We are no crybabies, we are strong BECAUSE we still live! And we simply don’t know how long we can affort the strength to stay alive. That’s just tha way I feel. One girl (or rather a women despite me feeling like a teen anymore) out of 7.5 milliards of human beings. Who knows. perhaps someone will read this. and cries. And smiles. And fells accepted and undestood.

I don’t know you, but you are stong and wonderful. Stay alive and kicking. I know you can. I hope you can.

Love and appreciation from a real disturbed person