#Wish I’d said that – February 20 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jodilin65 · 27 years

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SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 9, 1997 Good news regarding Mom. Well, last night Tom realized that she forgot names. Not that she couldn’t talk. However, he went to see her today and she’s doing much better. She’s much more coherent, remembers names, and is moving better. She also has her short-term memory back, which she lost and there are no signs of paralysis. The neurologists did a battery of tests on her and she’s now speaking much better.

I slept from about 11 AM - 5 PM and before going to sleep, I called Tammy. First, she did her usual. She told me how sick she’s been and then I told her about mom. She was very sorry and said she’d call our folks. She also gave suggestions about aftercare for her, since she knows a lot about this.

Tom went to bed at around 6 PM. The poor guy’s beat and hasn’t slept much in the last few days. Even I’m still tired.

At 7:30, just as I finished typing them a letter which I’ll still send out, Mom and Dad called and we really, really did have a pleasant talk. I thanked them for caring and for listening to me. I told them the latest scoop on Ma. They too, were truly sorry and concerned and wanted to know what hospital she was in. The same one I was in, Good Samaritan. And then they said they’re sending out those pictures on Monday and a metal flagpole. They asked what kinds of flags I like and I told them I don’t dig fruits or sports or dull colors and how I dig pink, purple, music, dance, animal and flower-related stuff. Mainly bright colors. He asked what cartoon ones I liked and I told him I liked the Snoopy one I’ve drawn a lot. I’m sending them a really nice, colorful drawing of a pretty floral flag of theirs. I had forgotten the name of it and didn’t know the name of the flowers. They didn’t mention anything about my telling them just how I feel about them telling me what to say, so that’s nice and appreciated.

I told my folks I’d keep them updated, let Tom know they called, and tomorrow I’ll call Tammy, thank her for being my interpreter, and give her the latest scoop.

About 20 minutes after I spoke to Mom and Dad, I got a weird call. The woman said she was Margaret S, she wanted to talk to Jodi "Lee," she saw me on the computer. Do I still have that nice long hair? She’s now in Mesa at Johnny and Marie’s place, not California.

Then I realized it was Ma’s sister who was about the same age. She said Ma says lots of lovely things about me, how it’s cool I’m Jewish, and that she wished I could’ve helped her when she had her stroke. From what she said, she could hear and see, but couldn’t talk. So, I told her I was Jodi Lin and that it’d be nice if she at least knew the alphabet. I think all people in all the different kinds of medical fields should at least know the alphabet if not signs. She says she wanted to meet me, liked my attitude, and felt very comfortable talking to me, who she didn’t know and who she’d only heard about, and she says that’s not like her. She says she’s going to be moving into a senior apartment complex. We must’ve talked for a half hour and at one point I told her to make a fist. Then I told her that was the letter S, so she already learned a letter. It’d be nice to teach Mom the alphabet. At one point, she weirded out on me and said something about her son and me having some relation to Jesus and that Jews are the special people who were chosen. Of course, I’m thinking to myself, well, I’ve been chosen to have a great husband, some fun talents and skills, to live in Arizona. But not to have a child.

Now here’s my weird news, speaking of my wacky plumbing. I’ve never had anything like this. Since wiping off the two spots I wiped off yesterday, I haven’t had a thing since, and now it’s about 30 hours later. I was so sure I’d wake up with cramps and some kind of flow, but nope. This is even stranger and less than I had last August. I had spots every few hours back then, but now you’re talking over a day with nothing, since the last few spots.

Tom still insists I’m fine, but I know damn good and well what it is. God’s just teasing me and getting me back, since over the last month or so, I must’ve sworn at him more than I have in a few years. So what am I gonna do? Spot every 6 months? I guess so. If I were fertile, though, I know there’s no way I could be pregnant. That shot during mid-cycle just wasn’t enough. Also, the few spots I did have are almost guaranteed to take out anything with it that could’ve begun to form in there. And lastly, I’m sure that by tomorrow, if not, by Monday, I’ll have some kind of a flow. I don’t see how I couldn’t and I’d bet my life on the fact that this isn’t it. If I don’t get a full flow within a day or two, then I’m sure I will before two weeks go by. I flowed after that 2-week spot attack. The build-up leading up to this is a carbon copy, though, of before I spotted last August. No PMS of any kind, except for sore tits. No being horny. All I have now is sore tits, but once again, it’s basically only one tit. The other one’s not really sore at all.

SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 8, 1997 Well, I was right. I said about a week and a half ago that something bad would happen and once again, here we are in the eye of the storm. Or am I supposed to say: the storm? Yes, the storm. And 1997, which is far from over, is going to be anything but a great year. It’s going to be a nightmare.

Tom’s mom had a stroke and is now in the hospital. The stroke affected her speech mostly, and she’s unaware of her right side. The muscles and all that work, but she’s not able to function properly or make much sense.

What is it about odd number years? I’ve noticed that at least as far back as 1983, odd-number years seem to be much worse than even-number years.

Also, if I thought I was fertile and that we could have a child, I’d seriously suspect that God was trying to stall us and hold us off till I was near 40.

This hasn’t been discussed yet, is far from etched in stone, and may or may not ever happen, but Tom and I talked about Mom living here. I know she’s a very understanding and accepting woman, who’s very tolerable and patient, but I’d really have to keep my many depression and anger spells in check. I’m going to have to whisper to Tom about my emotions, sterility, and whatever else. Sex may be infrequent, but for the most part that’s the way it’s always going to be. Every time we get on a roll with that, something comes up and I can see our sex life becoming less and less of an occurrence. Especially during this year and probably for the next 2-3 years. Tom said, though, that Mom’s no stranger to depression and that when he was little, she went through serious depression and was put on all those pills I hate. He said my music wouldn’t bother her and not to worry about her thinking I was crazy due to my schedule. He said she’d be so appreciative of us helping her out that she’d deal with and accept how we were and what we did. Also, going on trips would be no problem, cuz she could stay with Mary or with someone. If I were fertile, though, we’d have to wait on the kid. Maybe Tom would agree with me, maybe not, but I don’t think that would be very fair to Mom to put her through that and I don’t think I could juggle the kid and mom. The kid would be way more than enough and remember, I can’t handle a child. That’s one of the many reasons I’m sterile. However, since we’re the ones in the family that will always be childless, I think we’re the perfect candidates for taking her in if need be, and I really like the idea. She’s a sweet lady and I feel comfortable around her. Also, I think we’d be able to entertain each other well. I can see her enjoying telling me stories about her life, her sewing, and more, and I can see me telling her and showing her all about the things I do. Also, I’m sure that if one of us needed some space and time alone, that’d be no problem. The only question is where she would sleep. Would she bring her bed over here? Well, we’ll work this out when and if she does move in here, but with me having no other possible life, I think this could be good for all of us. Maybe this is something God had planned for me and one of the many reasons why he sterilized me. So I could be available to help her. She’s helped us tremendously.

My being psychic really is a curse, not a gift. I knew this was coming, but I didn’t know who or any details and I was off by a few days or so. Tom was right, though, when he said that my knowing it, even if I knew it in full detail, wouldn’t have stopped it. And if I’d told Ma, she’d just worry like crazy. There’s no controlling what I know I’m/we’re/someone’s in for. I just have to sit back and let it happen, against my will.

As I told Tom, I see lots of trauma, disaster, sadness, fury, illness, and even death this year. Something about the number 77 comes to mind as far as his mom’s concerned, but I’m not sure what it means. Tom said that’s not good, though. Many years ago, his ma said she knew she was gonna die at 70-something, but he can’t remember the exact year. Anyway, I see something not too cool going down this year with his ma, my dad, and us. I know there’s more, but I have no clues as to what it could be all about. The only thing I can think of that could go down with us is a doctor telling us, “Yes, she’s right. She’s sterile,” but I still doubt I’ll ever get up the nerve to go to a doctor about this and risk trouble from God. I couldn’t do that without major encouragement and you know how it goes, you can’t encourage or discourage someone else. Only they can encourage or discourage themselves, right? Well, I can’t encourage myself. So, hopefully, the bad thing on us won’t be God killing Tom or hurting him in any way. I know we’ll never be divorced. We’ll never have a child, so there’s nothing that I can think of, to put this marriage at risk.

FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 7, 1997 I’m very depressed and angry right now. I didn’t feel any cramps or any pain of any kind, so I wasn’t expecting to wipe the few spots of reddish-pink blood I wiped off when I went to pee. So, this is going to be a normal period, huh? What’s normal for me, anyhow. It may be light, but tomorrow I’ll have a fuller flow with cramps. Then the next day I’ll spot off and it’ll be just about over till next month.

And I thought this new little plan of ours was helping me? Well, I obviously thought wrong. I just thought what I wanted to think. I just wanted to believe it’d help me to feel like not having a kid wasn’t the end of the world. Once again, I’m left with anger and hatred towards God, feeling like a freak, hopeless, empty. What am I here for?! If God won’t let me move forward, what does he want me to do, move backward? I tell myself I should go back to dancing. It’s better than cleaning. I hate having to pay others’ incomes, but with two incomes now it won’t hurt as much, some money’s better than none, I’ll get back in shape, and it’s all God would allow for me, next to cleaning or being some kind of cashier. But I refuse to settle! I’ve settled enough! I’ll just be the nothing, nobody, half-woman that I am. It’s like I’ve stepped outside my own body, watching myself be molded, controlled and made to be what God wants, not what I want. I told God, “I hate you! How dare you let murderers have it all. Children, good health, money, the works. But I can’t have my dream and therefore, neither can my husband. All we want is a child. Just a child. We may as well be asking to walk out into our backyard and find a million dollars sitting there, not for a child. We can’t ask for or have a child. That’s too much. Too far out. Too unheard of. Too abnormal. All cuz we didn’t kill in the name of you.” I try to tell myself it’s only cuz God’s looking out for me cuz he knows I could never handle it. Not with my screwy schedule and lungs. But no, he’s punishing me, cuz if he can do anything, why can’t he make me handle it? Why can’t he just put me on a normal schedule, make me repulsed at the idea of smoking and let me take it from there? Cuz he doesn’t give a shit. Cuz he hates me. Cuz he hates my husband and is also punishing him through punishing me.

I want to talk to Tom about how I feel when he comes home, but it won’t change a thing and he’ll just say I’m all wrong and not believe me. He doesn’t believe in women’s intuition, dream premonitions, and being psychic. But each month that I get my period, whether it’s one of those months we hit it right or not, is a sad and scary reminder of just what a half-woman I am and all I can do is think of that dream. That dream wasn’t just a dream. It meant something. It was a tell-tale sign of reality and of what my logic and woman’s intuition has always told me.

A part of me wants to rebel against God and get the years of testing going and tell Dr. Rugg to set us up for testing, even though I know I won’t win and will be told what I already know and what I don’t want to hear. This way, maybe Tom won’t be telling me when I’m 80 that I was always OK and that we just didn’t hit it right.

The other part knows that if I did that, not only would it get me nowhere, but that’s asking for major trouble from God and I don’t want to put my life or my husband’s life in any kind of danger.

I still have death thoughts. I mean, what’s the purpose of my being here? To take up space, cost money, bitch to my husband about stuff that can’t be changed, do my hobbies and clean? I’ve definitely lived my life. My life is surely over. There’s nothing more I can do or achieve. Nothing I could want as bad as a kid. The only way I can literally move on would be to die. That way I can either go to hell, if there is one, and I’ve been in hell enough here, or maybe I’ll come back and kill someone, then have it all. Or at least my top dreams.

I have a husband that’s straight out of a fairytale. I don’t have to be drugged up, live in the places I’ve lived in, be around the people I’ve been around, so, why isn’t that enough? Isn’t it selfish and wrong of me to want more and to want a child, anyway? Why can’t I just be happy with the way things are? It comes back to the same answer, though. I love my husband, I love my hobbies, but I want a child. I don’t want to be or do what God wants me to be or do. I want a child. My husband wants a child. I don’t want to just accept and leave things the way they are, but what kind of wife am I? Just a wife who can’t give her husband or herself what they really want most, besides each other.

All I am is a dreamer. That’s all my life has been based upon are dreams. Wishing I could always keep a schedule, quit smoking, and have a kid. Well, there’s no reason to keep a schedule, except for a few appointments here and there. There’s no reason to quit smoking since I only sing as a hobby and since there’ll never be a child to be up for constantly, day after day, and therefore not wanting the effects of cigarettes to make that all the harder to do and put me at risk of an ER attack, and I certainly don’t want to add any more years to this empty, hopeless life of mine that’s over. And they say your life is over once you have a kid? Well, I wish it was over for that purpose, but no, it’s over cuz I can’t do or have anything I really want. Yes, we may have newer and better gadgets and things, move someday, take a nice trip to California, but that’s it. The first best dream is out of the question.

I almost wish I could go kill Quinn as that way Andy won’t have to worry about going back to him and that way there’ll be one less sicko in this world and then maybe God will love us enough to give us what he gives to 98% of the world. A child. A simple child. Not lots of them. Not a couple of them. Just one child.

Now I look at the what-ifs. What if I hadn’t been a DES daughter? What if I had been fertile? What if I did get pregnant? Would it have made me as happier and as fulfilled as I always believed it would? Or would God have killed it or would he have made me miserable all over again in a new and different way? Could my body really take it? Would I really lose my mind? Would I be another Dureen? Would our marriage get worse or end? Well, no one will ever know the answers to these questions.

Would taking the pregnancy test at the end of this month really be wise? I mean, why should I be a sucker and even more of a fool? A sterile woman taking a pregnancy test? Oh, please!

All I know is that I’ve got to do something. I can’t keep going on like this and going through this month after month, year after year, but you know what? There’s not a damn thing I can do, compliments of God. I’m only right where he wants me to be and right where I’ll always be, with no way to fix this, and with no way out. I can do absolutely nothing about this. My life and my body just don’t belong to me.

I also tell myself a lot, well, if you were just better in bed, maybe Tom would get off more. OK, so I’m not great in bed, and if he got off more and was happy with that, great. But that’s all he could be about it - happy. Not making me pregnant. It doesn’t matter how often we screw, how good we are in bed, how often he gets off, or how happy he is about getting off little, a medium amount, or a lot, I love our fun, I want to get better in bed, I want my husband to be sexually satisfied, happy, complete, but that’s about all that can ever happen and I don’t know about that either. My talents lie in art and music, not sex. I believe Tom when he tells me I’m beautiful and that what he sees doesn’t matter, cuz it’s what his emotions are that counts, but I’m still not the slim, fit person I once was, either.

Later…

Just went to take a dump and this time I wiped nothing off. The spots I had earlier were not enough to flow onto a liner. I still don’t know if I buy the fact that I’ve heard that most women who are in the early stages of pregnancy bleed to some degree or have spots. Pregnant women don’t bleed or spot, do they? Not unless they’re having a miscarriage.

I shouldn’t have thrown my old typed journal stuff to the recyclers. I should’ve used the backs of those sheets for drafts.

I changed Gizzy’s cage the other day. What a breeze it was! It only took me a few minutes.

I did a couple more face drawings yesterday that came out pretty well. Of course, this is one of my trade-offs and compensations for being sterile. Bet I couldn’t draw or sing if I could have a child!

THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 6, 1997 No lights or cars next door at all from the late afternoon till now.

Miss Hawaii won the Miss USA Pageant.

After tomorrow I’ll be free to not worry about my schedule. I must say I’m proud of myself, though. I really thought that by now, I’d be having a hard time waking up before 4 PM. This must be the longest time I’ve held my schedule within a 4-5-hour time frame in years.

Nicole Brown Simpson and her pal Ronald Goldman, were murdered by O.J. Simpson, of course, and their parents just won an 8.5-million-dollar lawsuit against O.J. O.J. must’ve not had an all-black jury this time around and I still can’t believe some woman like me hasn’t killed him. This killer’s very lucky to be alive, but God would and will see to it that someone like O.J. lives a long, healthy life, with life’s finest offerings and material stuff.

I’m very glad the Browns and the Goldmans won their settlements and I never thought they would, but there are 4 problems with this. O.J. isn’t going to be killed or at least sued like he should be, the Browns and Goldmans will never collect a dime of this settlement, and even if the Browns and Goldmans got the full settlement, O.J. will still be rich. Lastly, O.J. still gets to keep his kids.

Is this a sick world and God we have, or what?

The sick assholes in court say that there’s such a bond between him and the kids and that just cuz he could and did kill his wife, doesn’t mean he can and will kill his kids. Oh yeah?! Well, let me tell you - as soon as those kids step out of line and really piss him off, he will kill them, too. Those kids are in danger and who the fuck do the courts think they’re kidding? Well, I just hope the kids see their dad for what he really is, break away from him and never associate with him. I would think that at least 1 or 2 out of the 4 kids will really wonder about him as they get older, realize the danger there is in being around him, and get away and stay away.

So, that’s the scoop on O.J. Meanwhile, I don’t want to hear his name. I don’t want to see his face. The thought or sight of him makes me sick and madly furious.

Fuck you, God! Just fuck you! For the way you allow this world to be and for the way you run and control my life and body (yes, I think I’ve felt some light pre-cramps). I know I’m gonna get my period. What else is new? It’s the story of my life. However, why do I feel a few so faintly? In fact, I’m not even totally sure they were pre-cramps, but why don’t I have strong, very obvious pre-cramps? Oh well. Tomorrow for sure.

I just hope God doesn’t fuck around with me. I mean, there’s no reason why I should have spots or any other weird episode, but why do I have a very strong feeling that this will not be a normal period? You know, as in too damn light? God’s adding insult to injury. If I must have all my periods, can’t they be normal, so I don’t have to have all this water on me?

After tomorrow night, I’ll be having Andy over to get his birthday presents. The journal and the soap puzzle book. I hope he likes them.

My sore throat is gone now, so that’s one less thing to have to deal with and worry about.

Tomorrow, after seeing Dr. Nielsen, we’re gonna go pick up invoice forms. AMEX needs that in order to pay him. We also have to pick up some stamps.

Tom’s so sweet. He’s gonna give me $20 out of the $200 for testing his program and giving him feedback. With that, plus my $10 of spending money for next month, I’m gonna get two mugs and two puzzles. This is cool, cuz I had thought I was gonna have to wait till May or June for this.

I wish to hell my folk’s package would hurry up and get here! I can’t wait to see these pictures and show them to Tom.

Well, that’s it, I’m out of here!

Later…

Went to see Nielsen today and all looks great. I don’t have to see him again till August 7th.

I’m still having fantastic PMS luck. And I thought last month’s PMS was the easiest? No way. This one’s the easiest I’ve had in probably years. I have no pre-cramps and I’m still not sure if I felt slight pre-cramps last night or not. It was probably just the normal feelings a body feels at times. It’s really weird that I’m not depressed, irritable or horny, but I can’t complain. Tom couldn’t get hit with this AMEX job at a better time, since now’s when I’m usually very horny and want him around as much as possible.

Like I said before, I have a feeling this isn’t going to be a normal period. I have a feeling I’m in for a very light and quick period or another spot attack. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if that were to be my present from God for saying and writing all the things I’ve said and written about him, but hey, I honestly feel the way I do and I wouldn’t have said and written these things if I didn’t. He took away my right to have a child. He can’t punish me any more than he already has, so, go on God, spot me out all you want, or have something go wrong. I’ve been expecting it. It’s about time, huh? I did say that this was to be the year, after all, that sterility would be “proven” so to speak. In a way that even Tom won’t be able to deny. I still don’t know, though, if I could possibly have a problem with some gland or hormones, but we’ll see in March.

The constant peeing has stopped, but I’m still 104. I wonder if I’ll be 106 after I have whatever kind of a period I’m to have when it should be the other way around. You should drop weight after a period. For a while there, I would be at 99, then about 102 at PMS and period times, then go right back to 99 afterward, but not anymore. Who knows, maybe I will have a normal period after all, but there is still something in the back of my mind that says, I don’t think so! As long as God can be kind enough to keep me from having to have any surgery. I’ve had enough. Well, Tom is right more than most of the time, so if he says there’s a 1% chance that something’s wrong, then I believe him. I want to believe him.

I still have a feeling, also, that there’s some other reason for his wanting to get a pregnancy test at the end of this month. If he really wanted to learn about how the test works and all about it, he could research it in an encyclopedia or on AOL or the web. I asked him this and he said something about their information not always being accurate. Oh. Anyway, I’m gonna feel really weird doing this - a sterile woman taking a pregnancy test. What a joke! The question is why is he suddenly so curious and interested in this now? What does he want to do this for? Is there some other reason he hasn’t told me about? If he thought I was pregnant, he’d have said so, and again, how could I be if I were fertile? The shot in the right time frame was too wimpy and I could barely feel it and the bed wasn’t so soaked. The biggie was too late.

Well, all I can do is hope to hell I get a normal period and lose this water. That’s the only choice, next to having a half-assed period or spots and still being all watery.

WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 5, 1997 Got up at 1 PM today. Only one more day left to hold my schedule steady - yeah! Tomorrow I can sleep till 2:00. I’ll shower tonight, so I won’t have to worry about that tomorrow.

Now AMEX is paying Tom $200 instead of $50. They want him to make a major change in their label printing thing, not a minor change. He wants me to help him out by formatting some disks for his friend Eileen (they used to work together at AMEX), but I don’t know if I know how. Do I? I can’t remember, but if not, he’ll show me what to do.

If I’ve got my facts straight, he’s taking this work to AMEX on Friday, then following Eileen home to do work for her on her computer. She’s gonna pay him, too. In case I didn’t say so before, Eileen and her husband are in their 60s.

So far, my predictions that I wrote down (he did too), that’s sealed in an envelope and not to be read till April 1st, are ringing very true. I saw this extra money coming in, but I didn’t know the source. I couldn’t have said it’d be due to AMEX and Eileen. The only thing I may be wrong on that I predicted would be the amount of his cumming. I said he’d still be cumming 1-3 times a month. We’ll see, but I wouldn’t be surprised, though, if some kind of shit hit the fan making us not have the time to see just how much more or not he could cum.

The freeloaders left before I got up and when I checked a couple of hours ago, I saw one of those city neighborhood vehicles there again, but it wasn’t a van with that logo on it, it was a car. Come to think of it, I don’t think they need a rent sign up. I believe there never was a rent sign up at the house Andy’s renting and that he found it by checking newspaper ads and I think that’s the case here. It’s just in the paper and on fliers.

Later…

I've been regular, haven’t eaten yet, and I still weigh a damn 104 lbs.

That mouse’s cage needs to be changed ASAP for sure. It reeks!

I had a sore throat last night and today. Luckily, though, it’s better and I don’t feel like I have a cold.

TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 4, 1997 Just got off the phone with Sandy and Jen. I screwed up, though. I thought that Jen’s birthday was today and that Sandy’s was tomorrow, but it’s the other way around. Oh, well, no big deal, as they said.

Then I called Larry at work. He said it’s gonna be a while before he’s in a talking mood and in the mood for jokes, but he and the others are doing remarkably well. I don’t think one can talk about something too much, in my opinion, but I was afraid they wouldn’t talk enough, as it sounds like they’re balancing communication, work, and other stuff quite well. They are a very strong family. I reminded Larry that if he needed someone to talk to, I was there for him and he appreciated that. That’s all anyone can do for him or any of them I guess.

The phone’s ringing now and I’m sure it’s Andy. I don’t feel like talking as long as he likes to, so I’ll let him leave a message. I hope he’s OK. He’s still putting up with Quinn’s abuse and he called me yesterday about it. He can come to me anytime with any problem, but I wish he’d just ditch this asshole for once and for all. He’s never let anyone else treat him the way he lets Quinn treat him and it’s ridiculous. What happened to the Andy that has self-respect and doesn’t take any shit he doesn’t deserve? I really think he’s mistaking lust for love, but only he knows how he truly feels. Still, how can you love someone who cuts you down all the time and who’s always threatening you? Wouldn’t he or anyone rather be alone than be in a bad relationship? I just want to go over there and shake this guy. I wish he’d move out of state but fat chance. Well, hopefully, he’ll end up in jail for years but fat chance again. These are the kinds of sick assholes that God gives it all to and that are very lucky in money, health, escaping the law, etc.

I hope I finally get the stuff Ma’s sending today and I wish to hell I’d get a call or a letter from Anne and Harry and Paula, but I don’t know about that.

I’m having major PMS luck. All I have is tits that are a bit sore and today’s the second day I’ve been stuck. I won’t count the bloating, since I’m bloated all the time. I have no pre-cramps, but I’m sure they’re well on their way. I’m only 4-5 days away from my rag, so I should get hit pretty hard with cramps any second now.

Of course, now’s when God takes complete control over my body and I have no say in it whatsoever. I say I want to be pregnant, God laughs and makes me get my period. I’m sure it’ll be real light again, though, but all my rights go to him now. There isn’t a damn thing I can do to take charge of my own body.

Today AMEX called Tom (where he used to work), and they want to pay him to do some programming to make some changes to some kind of labels they use for something.

AOL is so fucked up and I’m so sick of their shit. All kinds of people are filing lawsuits against them, cuz it’s so hard to get online. Either that or they’re deliberately kicking people off-line, cuz they just don’t have enough phones and equipment to handle the high volume of traffic. They switched to flat rates just so they could fuck with everyone. They figured they wouldn’t make it easy for people, since they gave us all a break with flat-rate fees.

I’m not sure now if next door really is moving or not. I still see no car over there, but in the early evenings there are lights on usually, then they go off at around 9:30 when she goes to bed. I believe she and the kid get picked up by her dad at around 7:30 AM. There’s also no for-rent or for-sale sign up. This must explain why I don’t have the “new tenant jitters.”

Tom and I agreed to take $10 a month for each of us to buy whatever we want. He used his $10 at the racetrack and I used my $10 to get a new cat mug (a Maine Coon). I also got the animals a treat. I may save the next 3-4 months’ worth of money, so I can buy 2 mugs and 2 puzzles. I certainly won’t be needing journals for quite a while. I’m about at the end of this one, but I have 6 blanks left.

Later…

Yesterday, Tom and I also went to the library where I got two more Dean Koontz books. I also got two audio cassettes where Norah reads the life story of Jill Ireland. I believe she was an actress, too.

Well, now I’ve got to go dry the clothes I’m washing now.

Later…

Tom said to wake him up if he’s not up by 10:00.

I finally did a duty, so no more being stuck.

I think I mentioned sending an email to a theater that I thought may be able to give me an address to send Norah fan mail, but I had no luck. They sent a reply back saying they knew nothing about it or anyone else that did. So, I just tried somewhere else, but I doubt I’ll ever find a way to write to her. I’m still trying to find an address for Writers/Artists. That’s the agency she works for.

Still nothing yet from Mom and Dad, but I sent their letter out today. The one setting them straight about not telling me what to do and all about how I’ll do and say what I so desire. They can either bitch about it or accept it, but that is the way it’s gonna be.

I also sent them a copy of He Was Only Sixteen.

I see a light on next door. I never heard any car doors, signaling someone may have been dropped off there and now I think that they may have a light on a timer to make it look like someone’s there at least in the early evenings. Maybe they have it set to go on at around 7 PM - 10 PM. Maybe they’ve been staying at their new place for the most part during these last several months. Someone had to have been there Sunday night, though, or very early Monday morning, to put their recycle can out, cuz we saw it out there when we left in the mid-afternoon to go to the library and the pet store.

I’m just so amazed at this awesome PMS I’m having. It’s weird, though, how I’m not really horny every minute like I usually am at this time, and a part of me hopes he wakes up too late for sex. Maybe I’ll get in the mood later, though. Still no pre-cramps, but I know that within the next 24 hours, I’m gonna get slammed with them big time. I can tell, though, that this period is gonna be way too light, so all the more, I’ll be retaining more water. I researched water retention in AOL’s encyclopedia and it suggests something could not only be wacky with the hormones but also with the pituitary or thyroid glands, though I hope not. I don’t want to have to deal with any bullshit or pop pills, but if it’ll help me, I suppose it’d be for the better. I just want to know why I’m like this and what I can do about it and that is, after all, what I’m mainly seeing Rugg about.

Later…

Well, the freeloader just came in at a little past 11:00. I’ve never known him to come in at that hour. The music was at a reasonable volume, but I have a feeling that that may only have been due to his having the windows shut. I swear, though, if he goes back to his old earthquaking, bass-thumping shit, I’ll make the little bastard sorrier than all hell. What’s weird about it is why would he come in at just after 11:00? And why on a Tuesday night? I really thought the freeloaders wouldn’t be back till the weekend and no, they’re definitely not moving. That house for rent must’ve been a similarly designed house, but not on this street.

SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 2, 1997 Still no one next door.

Anyway, I may need two Benadryls tonight.

Tom went to the track yesterday. He didn’t win, but he had fun.

Got up at 11 AM today and I only needed one Benadryl last night.

Anyway, now I can explain those “gone vibes” I had about next door and how I kept saying it seemed too good to be true that they’d stay here. Especially since they’ve shut up. It’s when they finally shut up that they move and I thought God was being way too nice as far as neighbors go and that it seemed a logical time for that house to turn over now. The last time we saw the Jeep over there was last Saturday or Sunday. Meanwhile, they take off frequently for a few days at a time.

However, Tom said someone came to the door this morning and thought this house was for rent. The description of the house, though, fit theirs to a T. They’re asking $675, though! Like Tom said, at that ridiculous price, it should be vacant till mid-summer, and then it should take several more months for the price to be talked down. Then he said that as the person was asking him about a house for rent (who knows why our address was on it), some car he never saw before drove in there. So, it looks like that place could be vacant for many months and I hope so. As soon as I hear kids using that basketball hoop or as soon as it looks vacant, I’ll lock the hoop up.

Of course, it could be a mistake altogether. It could be a different street or a completely different number than ours or theirs, but I doubt it. I think they’re moving out little by little and they’ll never be back as of any time now. They may already be gone for good.

I have no vibes yet on what’s coming in there next, but logic tells me that although that bass really frayed my nerves, God’s not gonna be so kind the next time around. Except for the bass, they were great neighbors. Well, I did just say, after all, that God’s been way too good to me lately, as far as neighbor’s noise goes. Also, it seemed the perfect time for them to move, now that they’re hardly ever there and have been quieter. God’s gonna get me good for these last several months of peace and really compensate the hell out of me. It’ll either be the bass that can wake me up or a bunch of loud kids, who scream and play ball constantly and have a dog or two. Yup, another M family.

Naturally, I don’t feel as victorious as I used to when seeing a prediction I’ve made come true. It now only serves as a reminder as to how right my vibe is about never having a kid.

Later…

Tom just did some awesome backyard work. He raked up those roof bits that were all over the lawn and he cut down half of the hedges against the wall that divides our backyard from theirs, where the clothesline is.

He said he could hear someone working over there. Maybe it’s the landlord getting the place ready for the next tenants, that’ll hopefully not move in for a year. Now that’s asking for way too much. I guess I sense that the new people will move in in 6-9 months, but that’s pushing it. That’d take major luck, even if the price is outrageous. I just hope that everyone who comes to see it doesn’t like what they see for as long as possible, though.

Tom had wondered why a truck didn’t come to move them out. Well, a truck didn’t come to move them in, either. There was a truck there, but it was only some kind of service truck. Mike had told me they moved in little by little over about a month’s time, so obviously, they’ve been moving out little by little. That must explain why I hear so many doors shut when they leave. Cuz each time they’ve come around, which has been once or twice a week over the last several months, they’ve taken something with them. At least I won’t have to worry about some summer parties. I’m sure that if they had been here this summer, there’d have been a few all-day parties just like last summer. It did always seem that these were hot-weather people.

Once again, sterility’s so obvious. How could I have a lifelong vibe hold up since I've known Tom then suddenly end up being wrong while I predict other smaller things accurately? There’s no way. I know I’m right about the sterility. I’m not gonna sense something like this so strongly all my life, then end up wrong.

Last night I had the best luck ever with drawing. I did another woman, just like the night before and it’s probably my best ever.

Later…

I just took all of my songs and put them each in different fonts. I’ll still keep those and my letters I do in different fonts, but from now on these journals will be in easy-to-read, complete fonts. Different colors, though.

SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 1, 1997 I have a couple of things to write about that are good news. In fact, I was so excited that I had trouble sleeping after taking the Benadryl and didn’t get up till 11 AM today. I’ve got to really watch it now. I still have 5 more days I can’t afford to wake up too late.

The minor piece of good news is that they did return last night. Well, I didn’t know they returned due to hearing them blast in, but due to looking and seeing the car there. They left again this morning before I woke up.

It’s been peacefully quiet today. Not even those damn dogs are going off.

The major piece of good news is that Tom broke a record and came last night. It hasn’t even been a week since he last came, and he’d normally go 2-4 weeks before cumming again! How wrong I was yet again! He believes it is definitely due to our new plan where I keep talking and keep getting things out before I blow up. In 4-to 5 days is where I’m gonna have to really watch it and keep it together as the PMS sets in. No pre-cramps today, but my tits are getting a bit sorer. Not too bad, though, like I thought it’d be.

I wish one of us had come up with this grand idea last July. I’m glad he thought of it, cuz I’d never have thought of it in a million years. Never again will I ever bash the idea of communication. I had thought it’d start fights, but nope, we just say what we feel and believe and that’s it, whether we agree with each other or not.

It was great to wake up today, for the first time in a while, and have good feelings and hope and positive energy. Although I know that some of these feelings may be false and just wishful thinking and that in the end, I won’t succeed, it’s still a nice breath of fresh air, rather than waking up with that typical feeling of doom and sadness. Followed by emptiness, anger, frustration, and just not wanting to live.

We have a case of too little and too late, though. Meaning, that even if I were as fertile as a Mexican, the last shot was too late and the one before it was too little.

Not only is Tom beating the pants off me as far as sexual progress goes, but he’s also proven to be a much better detective than I am. Especially with his much broader knowledge of computers, AOL, and the web.

He found the agency Norah works for and the drama school she went to in England. Also, the fact that she just performed there and is doing theater work. Lastly, a guy who claims to have a naked picture of her and that he gives pictures to people for free. Well, today I tried to find a way to send an email to these people and places to get the picture and to see if there’s an address to send her fan mail but had no luck. All I found was an address that might be that theater and I sent them mail asking them if they knew how I could send fan mail to her or someone else who knew how I could go about doing that.

I’ve been doing a cigarette experiment by smoking stronger cigarettes to see if it helps to cut me down. It is, but not by much. My lungs are OK, though.

I got very lucky with my drawing last night. Did one that was so-so, but I also did one that came out pretty darn good, and am happy with it. Still wish I could draw anything, anytime, though.

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chorusfm · 8 months

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Spencer LaJoye – “Someday You’ll Wake Up Okay” (Song Premiere)

Today I’m thrilled to introduce everyone to Spencer LaJoye, a talented folk/pop singer-songwriter who is sharing an early listen to their new single called “Someday You’ll Wake Up Okay.” The track comes from their new album, Shadow Puppets, that will be released everywhere music is sold on February 16th. Spencer LaJoye shared, “There was a time in my young adulthood when if you’d have come to me from the future to say, ‘Hey kid, someday you’re gonna wake up and feel okay,’ I would not have believed you. I was so uncomfortable with and ashamed of myself, my body, and my desires. But the truth is that I wake up almost every day now feeling okay. I wish my younger self could know that, so this song is my attempt to tell them.” I was also able to catch up with this artist for a brief interview below. What is the story behind this song? What is it about? I was driving through Harvard Square last fall when I saw this group of young college students standing outside the subway stop. A few of them looked supremely uncomfortable, but they were smiling through it, and it took me back to when I was in college. One of them, in particular, was pulling their sweater up around their shoulders, and I just remember being a young adult and wanting to cover myself up all the time. Looking back, I’m not sure how much of that was just awkward young adult stuff and how much was gender dysphoria, but all of those uncomfortable physical feelings coincided with the most devoutly Christian years of my life. It was a perfect cocktail of shame. I was very much not okay. So this song is a letter to a younger self to let them know that someday, all that changes. What does the song mean to you? What do you hope that it means to those who listen to it? I guess “Someday You’ll Wake Up Okay” isn’t a promise, but it’s a possibility. When I sing it live, I’m just singing to my younger self. I’m sure that 20-year-old wouldn’t even recognize me now. But I always wish I could go back in time and meet them, because they didn’t have an example of someone like them being okay. I want to go back, take them by the shoulders, and say, “Hey, [insert deadname here], I’m a wiser and hotter you. You’ll never see it happening, but someday, you’ll wake up and be me. You’ll wake up and basically be okay.” So that’s what this song is to me. And I hope it can help other people do some effective parts work, too. If not, it’s also just really fun to listen to. Chris, my producer, and I got up to some weird stuff, and Joe Causey, our mastering engineer, said it reminded him of Wilson Phillips. The lyrics are really great. Do you have a favorite lyric line or two from the song? Why do they resonate for you? I like, “You’re acting so much older than you need to. No one told you that’s not freedom.” It’s amazing how much time I spent in my youth trying to convince myself that the endless cycle of guilt-shame-repentance-forgiveness was what freedom felt like. No one ever told me otherwise. So how was I to know about the possibility of a God who wasn’t threatened when I felt good? These days, I think that’s exactly what/who God is – the good stuff. And we’re all made of it. We don’t have to be so hard on ourselves. Do you find songwriting to be therapeutic — a way to work through things or process things? Did writing this song serve you in that way? Kind of! Like good therapy, songwriting is also a lot of work… and though that work can be tearful, sometimes it’s more like math or a puzzle. Sometimes, therapy is about putting into practice new narratives and self-conceptualizations. With this song, I wrote it specifically to be compatible with a vocal looper when performed live, so I went at it like an architect rather than a poet; I’d already done the emotional processing of the song’s content in real-life therapy. But every time I sing this song, I feel like I’m practicing parts work. That young person in me is always there, and this song gives me an opportunity to… https://chorus.fm/features/spencer-lajoye-someday-youll-wake-up-okay-song-premiere/

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deadnightcoffeetime · 11 months

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The Man In Black (page 1) (COPY RIGHT)

It’s February, 28th, and the year is 2013, a young man that is turning 20 years old today. A horrible event will happen later, something that he won’t see coming. The young man’s name is Michael. A tall, and slim young Caucasian man, who has a passion for filming. Michael is in bed sleeping, peacefully, until his best friend, Brandon, comes banging in Michael’s bedroom.“.Wake up?”, said Brandon. Brandon is Michael’s long time best friend since middle school. He’s another tall, and slim Caucasian young man. He’s the same age as Michael, and also ha a passion for filming. “Dude, if you start singing that System of a Down song, I’ll kick your ass!”, said Michael. “Wow, being violent already on your birthday. Anyways, your mom made waffles. Plus we need to finish the final scenes.”, said Brandon. “Ain’t our short film due n two wedeks?”, said Michael. “Yea, but post production is a bitch, though!”, said Brandon. “You got a point. Alright, I’ll be down in a while. Gotta shower first.”, said Michael. “Whatever you say.”, said Brandon. Right before Brandon exits Michael’s bedroom, he annoys Michael one more time. “Grab a brush and put on a little make up!”. Michael awakens. “Alright, I’m up!”, said Michael. Brandon quickly exits, as Michael fully gets out from bed. Getting ready to shower and to start his day.

Michael arrives at the kitchen, as his mother snd sister, speaks and surprise him. “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”. His sister Andrea, approaches towards Michael, giving him a hug and his birthday present. “Happy birthday, big brother!”, said Andrea. She hands over the birthday gift to him. Andrea is a 17 year old high school student. She’s a young beautiful brunette, who’s intelligent and very close to Michael. “I told you guys not to buy me anything.”, said Michael. “I didn’t buy anything. I made this for you in my art class.”, said Andrea. “Nice!”, said Michael. He unwraps the gift, and sees it’s a canvas painting. A painting of a human being looking at the view from the Hollywood sign. The painting is really detailed and alongside showing vibrant colors. “Wow… This is really beautiful. I love it. What gave you the idea?”, said Michael. “I remember you telling me, you’ve always wanted to go to the sign and sit next to it. Looking at the view, and just go there whenever you’re upset.”, said Andrea. He hugs his sister. “Thanks.”, said Michael. Michael’s mom approaches towards him, giving him a hug, and a birthday card. “Happy birthday, son.”, said Michael’s mother. Michael’s mother is a 37 year old single mother. She’s wearing scrubs, getting ready to go to work. Her job is a nurse at a clinic. “Thanks, ma.”, said Michael. He opens the birthday card. Inside the card, it contains a $100 bill, and a message on the card. He reads the message. “Michael, my first born, I hope you have the best day, with lots of fun and love. I wish you the best. Love ma.” Brandon arrives at the kitchen. “What did I miss?”, said Brandon. “Where were you?”, said Michael. “I was outside, talking to my folks. Telling them, we’re going to be mostly busy all day, with the scenes and your birthday. My folks says “Happy Birthday!” to you.”, said Brandon. “Well, tell your folks, thank you, when you go home at night. And to answer your question, what you missed, Andy gave me a painting that she made for me, and my ma, gave me 100 bucks.”, said Michael. “Nice! I should rob you.”, said Brandon. “Ha! I’d kick your ass, just kidding.”, said Michael. “Anyways, are you ready to go?”, said Brandon. “Yeah, just let me get my jacket.”, said Michael. Michael quickly goes to his room, to grab his jacket. “What time will you be home?”, said Michael’s mother. “I should be back by midnight. Gotta finish these final scenes, for our film class. I’ll text you if anything changes.”, said Michael. “Okay. Stay safe and be careful!”, said Michael’s mother. Michael replies, as both Michael and Brandon, walks to the front door, getting ready to leave the house. “I know, ma! I know the drill”. The young men fully exits out the house and walks to Brandon’s car. Both enters the car and drives off.

It’s a beautiful warm sunny day, and the young men arrives at the Santa Monica pier, along with three other young individuals, two female and one male. The 20 year old young beautiful brunette is wearing a red dress and black heels. The young woman’s name is Lisa. She’s Caucasian, studying to be an actress, and is a friend to the young men. The other young man is yet another 20 year old Caucasian man. The young man is wearing a blue button shirt, with black slacks. His name is Bennett. Bennett is also studying to be an actor, and also another friend to the young men. The last young individual is Megan. Megan is 19 year old African American light skinned with curly hair and just wearing casual clothes. She’s the make up artist, and the boom operator. The group of the young individuals are recreating a scene for their short film project for class. The scene they’re recreating is the pier scenes from 2000’s “Requiem For A Dream”, as their assignment. Michael and Brandon are getting the filming equipment from the trunk. “Guys, why don’t you start heading towards the end of the bridge. We’ll meet you guys over there.”, said Michael. “Okay, let me just get my make up kit and the boomer.”, said Megan. Brandon hands over the equipment and the make up kit to Megan. She grabs the equipment and the three individuals are walking to their destination. “Lisa, I’ll do your make up, once we’re there.”, said Megan. “Okay. That’s fine.”, said Lisa. “Do you think this will give us a passing grade?”, said Brandon. “It better! The last few projects were ok, giving us a good enough to pass. I guess, I just want to get better, for each project.”, said Michael. “You will. Just don’t rush it.”, said Brandon. “Yeah… Let’s go do this.”, said Michael. Both of the guys gathers the camera equipment and walks to the destination.

The young men arrives, meeting up with the rest of the crew. As Michael and Brandon are prepping the camera, Megan is doing Lisa’s hair and make up, getting her ready for the scenes. “Are you nervous?”, said Megan. “A little.”, said Lisa. “Relax, you’ll do fine.”, said Megan. “Hanks.”, said Katrina. The camera is set up and are ready. Michael walks over to the girls. “Alright, everything is set up. Are you two ready?”, said Michael. Lisa replies, as Megan puts the make up and hairbrush away. “I’m ready.”. “Do you need more time, Megan?”, said Michael. “Nope! I’m ready.”, said Megan. “Okay. Let’s go. Kat, follow me please, and Megan, go stand next to Bennett.”, said Michael. Lisa follows Michael to the end of the bridge, while Megan grabs the microphone and heads to Bennett’s direction. Michael and Katrina, approaches at the end of the bridge. Michael gives instructions to Lisa of how to stand, turn, and react. She looks, as he explains. “Lisa, I want you to stand against the rail, looking at the sea with your arms spreading. And when your hear Bennett, saying your name, Marion for fifth time, turn around and act like you’re happy to see him.”, said Michael. “Okay. Sounds easy enough.”, said Lisa. “We’re going to film Bennett’s part first, then your part.”, said Michael. “Sure.”, said Lisa. “Okay. Stay here, I’m going to talk to Bennett and explain what he has to do. So, when I say, get into position, be ready.”, Michael. “Gotcha!”, said Lisa. Lisa stands against the rail, as Michael leaves, heading to Bennett. Bennett is standing against the rail, looking at the view of the beach. Michael approaches towards Darren and explains what he has to do. “Bennett!”, said Michael. “What’s up?”, said Bennett. “What I want you to do is, stand here at the center of the bridge, and look around, and act like in a way of what’s going on. And when you see Lisa at the end of the bridge, I want you to slowly run to her while calling her Marion. After calling out her name for the third time, you’re going to build up your speed of running towards her. Lastly, when you approach to her, I want you to smile, act like you’re happy to see her with a big smile.”, said Michael. “Okay, got it!”: said Bennett. “We’re going to film your parts first.”, said Michael. Bennett nods his head yes. “Okay, when I yell out get into position, be ready.”, said Michael. “Understood.”, said Bennett. “We’ll start in a bit, gotta talk to Megan and Brandon.”, said Michael. Darren fixes himself, as Michael speaks to Megan. “Megan, I just need you to run with the microphone next Bennett on the side.”, said Michael. “Alrighty.”, said Megan. Michael now heads to Brandon. “Brandon, what I need you to do is, film a shot in front of Bennett looking around. Second shot is a quick shot of his back. Third shot is in front of Bennett again. Fourth shot is him walking to slowly running towards Lisa. Fourth shot and the rest of the other four shots are basically the same thing. “So, it’s a continuation, but in small bits.”, said Brandon. “Exactly.”, said Michael. “Okay.”, said Brandon. “These scenes are him running, this time he’s going to be calling out Marion. After we finish filming Bennett’s scenes, we’re going to film Lisa’s scene.”, said Michael. “How many scenes does Lisa has?”, said Brandon. “She has 8 quick shots.”, said Michael. “Okay, got you.”, said Brandon. Michael yells out. “GUY, GET INTO POSITION! BE READY!”. Lisa stands against the rail, Bennett stands at the center of the pier, alongside with Megan, holding the microphone, and Brandon goes on to get ready, standing in front of Bennett. Everyone is in position and ready. “OKAY, ACTION!”, said Michael. Everyone is doing their job, making Michael smile.

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lukowrites · 2 years

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Week 8, day 6 - 20 min freewrite!

(Last one! Thank you Tim Clare, sincerely, I feel more alive thanks to these exercises, I loved it, I love writing now and I won’t stop. You’ve helped me unlock something in myself that gives me such joy, something that doesn’t require anything but my own thoughts, helping me channel and refine them, to see things within myself and in the world in a whole new way with more colour and splendor than I could have imagined. I’m addicted, and I won’t stop until I create something beautiful. I’ve never been much of a creative, but I can feel the artist in me coming out and it’s magical. I owe you one buddy. Thank you so much.)

Timclarepoet.co.uk/couchto80kwritingbootcamp – For anyone interested in getting started with, or refining their writing.

The shelf contained a litany of objects, from the most banal and recognizable: a snow globe, a pair of gardening gloves with dirt-stained fingertips, a cashew nut with a few tiny crumbs - to the most curious and strange: a hollowed out circular piece of wood with a hole in the middle, a purple ring with a thing red ribbon tied around it in a tight knot, and finally, the most curious of all, the book of wonders, as it was titled. If you open the navy blue, glittering book to the first page you’ll notice in bold green lettering a grand warning in ancient text, which when translated reads “Behold, the book of wonders! Creations of the past, present and future, a realm of infinite possibilities contained within. Careful what you wish for!” I found this book by chance one day, in the way all magical things happen to occur. I had been walking through the woods and noticed a clearing in the shape of a heart, when up in the sky there was a formation of red stars dancing around in the shape of an upside-down triangle. The lowest star began to descend, before coming closer and closer, I sheltered from it behind a nearby tree and CRASH!

In the newly formed crater in the centre of the heart, resting upon a beautiful cream-coloured pillow made of a material softer than anything I’d ever felt, was the book. I took the book and placed it in my backpack, along with the pillow, and went home.

Coming home late, I fell asleep upon the pillow, the softness comforting me and sending me to sleep so deeply I did not wake for 14 hours. In my dream, I heard a voice, which told me not to open the book until the 22nd of February, and I heeded it, feeling gratitude and respect to whatever power had bestowed this upon me. I felt that none of this was coincidence. But today, the 22nd of February, I opened it with glee.

The second page, filled me with joy. I cried a stream of tears at the sight, beauty like nothing ever seen in my lifetime. There on the page was a video of me as a young boy, my parents holding my hands on either side of me, swinging me about as we walking through the fairgrounds. Their faces beaming, looking at each other with love, looking at me with the same love, I felt I was in the arms of angels. I turned the page, there I was again, in the future, an old man, surrounded by my friends and loved ones, on my deathbed, but I was not afraid, or scared. Eager to see more, I turned the page again, this time I saw a woman and though I’d never seen her before, I felt a sense of closeness to her, of love and affection like nothing else I’d ever experienced. This was my soulmate, a woman of such warmth and kindness, kissing me on the cheek while I beamed in pure bliss. I wanted this all very badly. The feelings swelling within my heart, making me giddy with anticipation. I turned the page again, and… Nothing. A blank page, albeit for a single line that said “My name is Yves Gallardo, and I wonder…” with a space for me to write.

I retrieved my black ballpoint from my desk, knocking things over in excitement, and returned to the book to write down my thoughts. “I wonder… How I can become as full of life and happiness as the images have shown.”

Just then, the room changed.

#writing #free write #couchto80k

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lolefram · 2 years

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October 31th

Was thinking about you a bunch again today. I don’t know what triggers it, some days you’re just with me more than other days. I was thinking about how I miss hearing you do your stupid British accent earlier. I find myself wondering what you’re doing and how you’re doing at given moments throughout the day

That ex girlfriend of mine, Maddy, and I caught up on Saturday. She hit me up on social media and asked if I wanted to chat. She hit me up before, like maybe February, but I declined because it didn’t feel appropriate, so it’s been well over 2 years since we had a conversation. We talked for a good long while, about stuff in her life, my life, etc. It’s always nice to catch up with someone from previous chapters in life and compare notes. Sometimes it feels nice to feel connected to the past, I’m not sure how to put it. Before you think it’s some kind of romantic thing her husband was across the room and chimed in from time to time so it’s not like that. She’s still kind of an angry feminist type, I wondered if she’d ever grow out of that. However she’s not a bad friend to confide in when it comes to relationship stuff and all that. She had a few insightful things to say here and there about our breakup but ultimately there’s not all that much to say, and I didn’t really care to dive too deep into it anyways. She told me to get on the apps and start dating people again. I’m not overly enthusiastic to do so as you might imagine. Trying to get a relationship going over benign “get to know you” questions that absolutely no one finds engaging. I think I might just rather die alone.

Honestly sometimes I wonder how much you want me to include in this damn thing. Would you prefer I leave some things out? Do you want me to leave out the parts where I talk about how I’ve been thinking about you? Well too bad, this is my blog and you’re along for the ride. That being said I would just like to say that sometimes I wish we could just start over. Sometimes I think back to the first day you told me you were planning to move and wish I’d told you not to. Why couldn’t we just start small with just a visit first? Why couldn’t we just meet each other first instead of putting all this pressure on such an important decision? Hindsight’s 20/20 I guess. Either way it still doesn’t quite feel right the way it all went down, and I hope you’d agree with me on that. I don’t know how else to put it, or if you feel similarly for that matter, other than that it just doesn’t feel right. Perhaps that feeling will fade with more time, I don’t know.

Anyways the new job’s going good. One guy I made friends with got fired so that sucks. I don’t love my boss but she seems to respect me a little more and more as time goes by, because I’m not such a noob. Money’s okay. Just trying to stay disciplined and healthy. Talked to my mom the other day. She’s happy to hear about the new job going well and all that. Last weekend I went with amber and RJ to go on a hike and go camping in Sedona, that was the best weekend I’ve had in a good long while. We visited this old mining town up in the mountains, you should have seen it. It’s like a historical site now so all the buildings are like 150 years old or whatever but it’s still very much alive. There’s all these little shops and cafes and stuff. Hardly anybody lives there, but people commute to work at the cafes and shops and shit and it’s all very cool looking. The view is ridiculous. It’s like a postcard, I should have taken a picture and posted it.

I really hope you’re doing alright. I think about that more than any of my other thoughts about you these days. I hope your brother’s doing okay and your new (but also old) job is going well, if you’ve started it yet, I can’t remember when you said you’d be starting. They better pay you more now that you’re all credentialed and shit. I just hope you can say that you’re happy and healthy, I think about it very often.

Okay I’ve got to get in bed. I’ll speak to you another time

0 notes

agrijust · 2 years

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Hologram effects microcosm

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By Sweetwater Customer Hologram Electronics Microcosm,, ,, , Demo of 9 Odd Sounds into Microcosm by Hologram Electronics,, 10 Breathtaking settings: Hologram Electronics MICROCOSM,, ,. Audio Student Engineering + Production Question Zone. Microcosm was announced at I wanted one immediately. It's definitely got me inspired to get more work done. GoPro HERO6 Favorite Strings I'd rather let notes & open strings ring & have them affected as they drone, than play a choppy quick note with no transients so the machine can pick it up & run with it.

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BIG THANK YOU! You will receive a verification email shortly. Guitar World is supported by its audience. , BMPCC6K Favorite Tuner Spent a couple of hours with it and I love it!! Its going to be a studio tool mostly, I think Im going to sort out some MIDI implementation to get the most out of it and for live usage. Instagram: I wish I had one for every channel on my mixer. Now is the perfect time to get the gear you want with simple promotional financing. After ordering, and receiving it promptly from Sweetwater Sound, I hooked it up in-line with my Hydrasynth, and was amazed at the transformation.

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Headphones I use at Thomann: This is a trial of 9 odd sound resources into the Microcosm fx pedal by Hologram Electronics. Elektron Octatrack MKII Sweetwater Sound I haven't had so much fun with a piece of equipment in my studio that I can ever recall. Favorite Cables Press J to jump to the feed. Video monitor: The image is nice and wide on the ping pong. Just plug it in and turn those big luscious knobs. I assume they have to actually build the pedal since the store said they are limited in stock. Get Directions | published 20 February 20, Slice, stretch, rearrange and manipulate sounds via 11 unique effects, a 60-second looper and tons of customization. FJM ECOM is a ecommerce website providing information on products and sales offers on select products. Good Luck! Lewitt MTP440 at Thomann: I think it has a lot of instrument-like qualities where you have to interact with it to get it to open up and really do its thing. Highly recommended!!! on February 28, 2020, By Echonaut Here are 10 astounding sounds I got using the Hologram Electronics Microcosm presented in 10 short songs.

#Hologram effects microcosm

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mrepstein · 2 years

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The Beatles during rehearsals for Another Beatles Christmas Show, December 1964. With them are producer Peter Yolland and promoter Joe Collins.

In 1986 Joe Collins published a memoir, A Touch of Collins. Below is a portion of the book where Collins recalls his memories of the Beatles and Brian Epstein:

By the early 'sixties rock 'n' roll was a regular part of my business. The hit parades were as familiar to me as the multiplication tables, and I always kept an eye on the bottom end of the charts to see who was coming up and could be booked at a reasonable fee before he or she broke really big.

In February 1963 a promotions executive at The People telephoned me.

‘Can you find us an attraction for our summer ball? Something for young people?’

I recommended a new pop group from Liverpool called the Beatles, and said I'd try to book them.

When I tracked down the Beatles' manager, Brian Epstein, at his family's furniture store in Liverpool, he was happy for his boys to perform at the newspaper ball. We agreed on a fee of £500.

Three months later, when the Beatles had their second No.1 hit, ‘From Me to You’, the man from The People phoned again. ‘This Beatles group you're getting for us, I'm afraid they won't be suitable after all for our ball. There'll be such a rush for tickets we won't be able to cope, and there could be trouble outside with their fans. Can you possibly manage to cancel our arrangement?’

When I told Brian Epstein of the cancellation, he did not disguise his relief. Since our earlier agreement the £500 fee I had negotiated had become ludicrously low payment for a Beatles cabaret.

However, this was not the end of my association with Brian Epstein and his Beatles.

Later that same year Stan Fishman, who booked live attractions for the Rank cinema circuit, came on to me. ‘Brian Epstein wants to do a Beatles Christmas show, but he has no idea how to go about a full stage production. Can you help him?’

I could, with pleasure! I booked the Beatles Christmas Show into the Astoria, Finsbury Park in North London for two weeks, commencing on Christmas Eve 1963.

I organized the scenery, hired some tabs (backdrop curtains), engaged a producer, Peter Yolland, and a compere, the Australian entertainer Rolf Harris. I reckoned that Harris, as a former schoolteacher, would be able to handle a rowdy teenage audience.

The other acts were provided by Brian Epstein. Apart from the bill-topping Beatles, there was a group from Bedfordshire, the Barron Knights, while the rest came from Brian's stable of Liverpool talent, names he had launched that very year: Billy J. Kramer and the Dakotas (who had already had three top hits), the Fourmost, Tommy Quickly and Cilla Black, Brian's latest discovery.

Cilla, a toothy, 20-year-old redhead, had recently given up her regular job as a typist. In the 'sixties the rock audiences did not care much for girl singers, but it was customary to include just one female vocalist on a bill, if only to get some variety into the programme. For her act at Finsbury Park, I remember Cilla coming on stage in a pink mini-skirted dress to sing a lesser-known Lennon-McCartney song she had recorded, ‘Love of the Loved.’

When I looked at the printed programme for that Christmas show, I noted the credit I had been given: ‘Brian Epstein wishes to acknowledge with gratitude the invaluable assistance of Joe Collins in the presentation.’ I was actually co-producer.

As the show was intended to be ‘special’, not just a plain pop bill, Peter Yolland decided that the Beatles should perform a few sketches.

The night the show opened I wandered into the auditorium to witness George Harrison, dressed as a Victorian maiden, being tied to a railway line by John Lennon, in the role of Sir Jasper, the wicked landlord. Then Paul McCartney entered as the heroic signalman who rescues ‘her’.

The experience, appropriate to the plot, was like watching a silent film. The boys’ dialogue, if they were speaking lines at all, was drowned by the screeching audience. That was the first and only performance of the Beatles as stage actors.

That night at Finsbury Park, I met the Fab Four in person. I went backstage to introduce myself. ‘How's the dressing room?’ I asked, sticking my head round the door of the shabby cell they were sharing.

‘All right,’ said drummer Ringo Starr, who always looked glum even when he was happy.

‘Is there anything you need?’ I asked politely.

‘Yes, there is!’ said Ringo promptly. ‘Can you find us some flex for our electric kettle? We want to brew up some tea.’

‘If you get us a lead for our kettle, we'll give you some earplugs,’ George Harrison cajoled. ‘You'll need 'em if you go out front!’ That I knew already.

Only one thing blighted our run at Finsbury Park. After the Beatles and other Liverpool groups had monopolized the top chart positions for nearly a year, a London group, the Dave Clark Five, suddenly became a threat. Their shattering, thumping ‘Glad All Over’ ousted the Beatles from No.1. The newspapers treated this item as a major sensation. ‘DAVE CLARK FIVE CRUSHES THE BEATLES!’ shrieked one of the headlines.

‘Well, we can't be top 52 weeks of the year, can we?’ retorted Paul McCartney.

Still, despite those frantic, yelling girls in their Finsbury Park audience assuring the Beatles how much they were loved, Lennon, McCartney, Harrison and Starr were green enough in show business to be upset about that gimmicky newspaper story.

On 14 January 1964, a few days after our show closed, the Beatles' new record ‘I Want to Hold Your Hand’ became their first disc to reach No.1 in America, and by the end of the year they were as popular in the US as they were in Britain.

Young Cilla Black, too, the sole girl on the Finsbury Park bill, was proving too that she had a future.

During our Christmas-show partnership, Brian Epstein had invited me to dinner at his new London penthouse in William Mews, behind Harrods in Knightsbridge.

I noted, with some surprise, that Brian's taste in furnishings was very arty. His choice of décor, with thick white carpeting and black leather settees, was not quite what I had expected from him after meeting his family from Liverpool, who were very down-to-earth despite their affluence.

Over our meal Brian talked about nothing else but his plans for Cilla Black.

‘She's great... absolutely great,’ he kept assuring me.

While agreeing that Cilla had a warm personality, I could not agree with Brian that she was ‘great’.

He offered me evidence of her potential by playing a new recording of hers. I had already listened to enough music that day, but Brian was my host, so I put on an attentive expression as he switched on the record-player. The disc he played me was ‘Anyone Who Had a Heart’, a moving ballad by Burt Bacharach and Hal David. I realized Brian's enthusiasm might possibly be justified. He was right: it reached No.1.

At the end of 1964, to round off the second amazing year of Beatlemania, Brian suggested we should jointly produce another Beatles Christmas show, to run from 24 December to 16 January 1965 at a very big cinema, the Odeon, Hammersmith, in West London.

We engaged two comperes, Jimmy Savile and Ray Fell, and the support bill, again all musical acts, included the Manchester group Freddie and the Dreamers, Sounds Incorporated, the Mike Cotton Sound, and a blues-oriented band, the Yardbirds, who had a particularly talented guitarist, a 20-year-old lad from Ripley, Surrey called Eric Clapton. The obligatory girl on the bill was a bluesy singer, Elkie Brooks, a baker's daughter from Manchester. Elkie, like Cilla the previous year, was someone whose star potential Brian spotted early in her career.

The printed programme of what we actually called Another Beatles Christmas Show is now a souvenir I treasure, for it was illustrated with drawings by John Lennon, taken from the Christmas edition of his book In His Own Write.

The Beatles, after almost two years of adulation, were now getting worn down by the fervour surrounding them. They wanted a bit of peace, and visitors to their dressing room at Hammersmith rarely found a warm welcome.

One evening, when I was with them backstage, a Scandinavian representative from their record company EMI came in to be introduced to his bestselling product. He sat for a while in awe-stricken silence, watching them tune their guitars. Then he tried to start a conversation.

‘Tell me,’ he asked brightly, ‘what is the best thing about being a Beatle?’

John Lennon looked up at the man, his face registering no expression at all.

‘Best thing about being a Beatle?’ he repeated slowly. ‘Well, I guess it has to be that we meet EMI sales reps from all over the world.’

I cannot claim that I was one of the people to whom the Beatles wanted to chat, though as the show's co-producer I would always make my routine call at their Odeon dressing-room.

‘How's it going, boys?’

‘Fine, thank you,’ they would answer politely. That was the end of the dialogue. They'd simply stare at me for a moment or two, then continue talking to each other, usually about their music.

‘How do you get on with the boys?’ Brian Epstein asked me eagerly after one of my brief visits to the Beatles' sanctum.

I laughed. ‘So far as I'm concerned they're dumb... so dumb they're making millions!’

Actually, from my point of view, the Beatles were a headache. I liked their records and even I, then a man of 62, was humming ‘She Loves You’. But I found it impossible to enjoy their stage performance. I couldn't stand the way the audience screamed, making such an hysterical noise all the way through the show it was impossible to hear any of the music. The burly security guys worked as hard as any of the performers: they had to fight back at a rush of shrieking girls, apparently intent on storming the stage and tearing their idols to pieces.

Outside in the street before and after the show youngsters would be surging around the building hoping to waylay the Beatles as they left the theatre. The police trying to control these crowds were kicked, bitten and had their helmets knocked off in the frenzy.

Apart from the fact that my head was literally aching through the noise, I had a figurative headache, trying to spirit the Fab Four in and out of the theatre without anyone getting injured in the crush.

Like army officers planning a war operation, each day the theatre manager and I would meet with police representatives to devise some new Beatles escape campaign for the evening. We could never use the same method twice for the fans caught on too quickly.

However, at the end of that short Hammersmith Odeon season my head soon got right again, for I had been well rewarded. my personal fee for the two weeks' work was £4,000, made up of my 20 per cent share of the profits and the sale of brochure programmes. In the 'sixties such earnings were a sizeable sum, especially as the Odeon profits were offset against a loss on another show I co-presented with Brian that season, Gerry's Christmas Cracker, which played Scottish and provincial dates. I was surprised this show did not make a profit, for it starred the Liverpool group Gerry and the Pacemakers, Epstein discoveries who in 1963 had No. 1 hits with each of their first three records. (Gerry Marsden, happily, made a charts comeback in 1985 with a new recording of ‘You'll Never Walk Alone’.)

The Rank Organisation was very pleased with my contributions to its coffers, and at the Rank circuit's annual lunch following the 1964-5 Beatles season I was thanked officially by the company's boss, John Davis, for having brought it the Finsbury Park and Hammersmith shows, the most successful stage attractions ever in the firm's long history.

My association with the Beatles is a warm memory, not just because they provided a profitable venture, nor because they made a big personal impression on me: as I have said, I had no real communication with them. I was happy to have been involved because Brian Epstein was one of the most pleasant men with whom I ever did business. I found him charming, modest and completely straightforward in his dealings. I considered him a top-class businessman, and a gentleman.

Unlike some other managers and agents, he never regarded any of his artists as a mere commodity, to be signed up and hired out just to make money for himself. Brian was concerned personally for the welfare and future of each singer and musician he took on. In all my long career I have never met any manager so enthusiastic about his artistes. When we were together he talked of nothing else. He was thrilled that his boys were putting British pop music on the international map. It should not be forgotten that Brian, as a newcomer to show business, had tramped around the London record companies and music publishers literally pleading for a hearing for his Liverpool artists. He deserves much credit for turning British pop music into a high-earning export.

#The Beatles #Joe Collins #Brian Epstein

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yeonchi · 3 years

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The Koei Tecmo New Normal Copium

Ten years ago, on 20 March 2012, Koei Tecmo released Warriors Orochi 3 in the West without English dubbing. That day marked the start of Koei Tecmo’s disgrace to the Western fanbase and English dub fans in particular. People are probably going to gaslight me for this given that I’m talking about the whole of Koei Tecmo’s Western fanbase, but I say this because over the next decade, that disgrace continued to the point where they didn’t just cut corners in localisation, they cut corners in their games as well and by the time Dynasty Warriors 9 came out on 13 February 2018, the apathy set in and I had lost all optimism that Koei Tecmo would properly localise or dub their games again.

In the past two years, the term “new normal” has been used to describe how people around the world would live their lives as a result of the coronavirus pandemic, but recently, I realised that Koei Tecmo not dubbing their games has been their “new normal” for the past decade. In short, they thought the fans were fine with it, so they just carried on with that for future games, without taking other opinions into consideration. Am I the only one who’s starting to think that democracy as we know it is flawed?

Anyway, I already said as much when I said that I would be leaving the Koei Tecmo fandom in my post about Dynasty Warriors 9. As a result, I wouldn’t have gone to the effort of making this post in normal circumstances, so why did I do it? It’s because I’ve decided to return to the Koei Tecmo fandom on my own terms. This post is the end result of the Koei Tecmo fanbase huffing the new normal copium and my analysis of Koei Tecmo as a business over the past decade. My upcoming plans for Koei Tecmo content have already been covered in a separate post if you’re not interested in this one.

Some time after I made my post on DW9, a fan sent me a video by Jim Sterling about the dismal degradation of the Dynasty Warriors series and the rest of the Koei Warriors series in general. Recently, I also found two other rant videos on similar subjects by DrakeVagabond and Sex Gravy, and I honestly wish I’d found Sex Gravy’s video when I was doing my rants because the title of it literally is called “Why Koei doesn't give a Sunday Morning Left-Handed Wank about Dubbing Games anymore”, which is something that could have caught my attention and led me to dedicate a response rant to it. If what I’ve covered in the Koei Warriors Rant Series or Dub Logistics is still lacking (which I admit it does), then the three videos I’ve linked should have more than enough information to fill the gaps.

Basically, after watching the three videos and reflecting on my rants, I realised that the English dub problem with Koei Tecmo goes deeper than I first thought. While I have talked about certain games not being localised that could have really been beneficial to Western fans (like Warriors Orochi Z or Sengoku Musou 3 Z), there’s other issues like still releasing the games at full price digitally and not having demos, discounts, sales or just reducing the price as the years go on, the exorbitant amount of DLCs and the money required to get “the full experience” even with season passes or the Xtreme Legends spinoffs and finally, chasing stupid trends like console generation exclusivity, open worlds and realism, particularly when the trends have already passed elsewhere. Let’s not forget Koei Tecmo’s lack of effort in advertising the games outside of the internet and particularly, outside of Japan. Sex Gravy also points out how the translation quality seems to have dropped in subbed games, like their interest in proper quality control got cut along with their interest in dubbing, and the audacity of Koei Tecmo dubtitling their translations, that is, translating lines (such as officer defeated quotes) as if they were going to dub them, which is insulting because aside from the lines not even closely matching the original Japanese lines, it’s like they wanted to make the effort to dub the game but they gave us this as a compromise. It’s very clear that Koei Tecmo, like nearly every game company, care more about their back pocket than they care about their fans. Or, to put it bluntly, they just didn’t care.

Although it should be noted that Warriors Orochi 3 was the first mainstream Warriors game to not be dubbed, the first Warriors game to have had that treatment was Samurai Warriors Chronicles for the 3DS, a game that frankly, they should have passed on in favour of localising Sengoku Musou 3 Z, which would have brought in Samurai Warriors 3 Xtreme Legends for the Wii along with a PS3 port for that and the base game combined. It’s basically a Complete Edition and a precursor to the PS4 and Steam releases of Dynasty Warriors 8.

So why did I decide to come back to the Koei Tecmo fanbase after I left in 2018? The main reason was because tmma1869, one of my biggest fans during my Rant Series days (which is saying something given my obscurity), started playing Samurai Warriors 5 despite her similar disdain for Koei Tecmo and their fanbase. Another reason is because I recently realised that the Koei Warriors Rant Series wasn’t so much about the games themselves than it was a case study for English dubbing and a spotlight on the toxicity of the Koei Tecmo fanbase and dub haters in general. This was mostly because I didn’t have a PS3 back then (and I could have bought a PS4 but I got a Wii U like the idiot I was), but recently built a new PC and I talked myself into getting a PS3 emulator before I learnt that PS3 emulation had come a long way over the past decade, so I had no excuse. Yet another reason is because my guilty pleasure of playing Warriors games continued, even during lockdown as I made some Koei Tecmo content in 2020, including my retrospectives on Warriors Orochi Z and Dynasty Warriors 8, and revived my obsession, inspiring me to make content for it. I wasn’t sure what new things I could get into given that I’m feeling too old to get into new things, so I slowly clutched onto what remaining interests I had, which led me to here with Koei Tecmo in the first place.

Why did I start the Koei Warriors Rant Series in the first place? Before 2014, I’d been watching Let’s Play videos of Koei Warriors games on YouTube, and while watching the Warriors Orochi 3 gameplays, it struck me as odd that the voices were in Japanese yet the text was in English. The release of Warriors Orochi 3 Ultimate and Samurai Warriors 4 without English voices (despite me thinking that they would use the gap between WO3 and WO3U to dub the game) was what really got me angry enough to start the Rant Series by telling Koei Tecmo and their fanbase to commit seppuku and that they should be ashamed for wanting Japanese voices in the games at the cost of the English voices. Despite what many have assumed, I actually have no problem with playing the game in Japanese or reading subtitles, particularly given that I have played some Koei Warriors games with Chinese subtitles, but recently, I realised that I was doing this because I wanted to play the games with English dubs for the experience and the voice cast. Sure, I could mimic the English voice actors and pretend to say the lines in English, but that’s essentially a placebo and not a solution to the problem. This doesn’t mention other fans who might prefer English dub or the advantages of having it, but I thought I’d be altruistic anyway while I was at it. Also, it pissed me off that nobody, not even reviewers or gaming journalists, talked about the lack of English dub in localisations as much as I did (instead trying to pretend that it isn’t that much of a problem), but given how shitty gaming journalism is in current year, they’d probably be standing behind that practice anyway.

After the attention I got from the first part, I continued the series in the hope of getting an official response or explanation from Koei Tecmo. Admittedly, while subsequent instalments didn’t get the attention the first instalment got, I did hear a lot of speculative reasons from fans, but that wasn’t enough for me. The closest thing I got to an explanation was from some old comments made by former community manager Chin Soon Sun/inspchin, which basically boils down to sales and revenue, and I’ve never given Koei Tecmo the benefit of the excuse because I’ve been calling bullshit on this (and other excuses) since day 1. They couldn’t make the money (or the time) to hire 80 (more or less) English voice actors to voice over 150 characters, yet they somehow managed to do it with 110 Japanese seiyuu. They claim they can’t dub games because of sales, yet they still manage to keep making profits (assumedly) year after year from their fanboys, particularly with the prices they charge for games and DLC. Finally, if Samurai Warriors wouldn’t be authentic without the Japanese voices, then why dub the game in the first place? In fact, why dub any anime or game at all if you think Japanese voices are the only way people can enjoy it? More people prefer the Japanese voices instead of the English voices? OK, show me the polls and surveys so I can tell those people that their selfishness is the reason why we’re all huffing the Koei Tecmo new normal copium and that they should be ashamed of themselves.

I might not know a lot about business, but I know how to look at things from a customer-centric perspective. Two solutions I suggested include getting Koei Tecmo Japan to put more money in for an English dub or even better, getting the fans to crowdfund it (I would suggest paid DLC, but then I’d probably be complaining about how expensive it would be and how it would be insulting to dub fans as a result - free DLC is a fair compromise, but of course it’d be best to have dual audio options on release). Sadly, however, even as fans call gaming companies out for their shitty business practices, they still keep on doing it despite this because they assume their formula works because the reviews and sales support it. In short, Koei Tecmo got woke, continually doubled down, and went broke.

Have my views changed over the years? Yes and no. It was about 7 and a half years ago when I started doing my rants and over that time, I’ve learned to mature and look at things from different and more nuanced perspectives. Then Dynasty Warriors 9 came out and I just gave up because it was clear by then that the apathy had set in. There were some things I recanted on in the past because of flack I got from people, but given the situation we are in now, I’ve decided to stand behind everything I’ve said. I was ashamed to be a Koei Tecmo fan, but I was even more ashamed at the inaction and division within the fanbase, and as I’ve stated earlier, I hope other Koei Tecmo fans are ashamed as well.

I’ve noticed that most of the “opinion-neutral” people I’ve called out over the years really don’t seem to care about anything but playing the games because they’ll go at anyone who dares have an opinion about them, whether it be English dubs, PC ports (Koei Tecmo have really started to get into it now, only a few years too late as usual) or the quality of their games in general, calling them “entitled” or whatever when we’re just expressing our feedback to a company that won’t listen to their fans. These people are just as much a part of the problem because they’re unable to contribute anything or show support for things that don’t affect them (English voices and dual audio options) because their preferences are still there (Japanese voices). I know I like to preach about respecting other people’s opinions, but spineless and short-sighted people like these really test my tolerance, which is part of the reason why I said what I said in the first place. The simple nature of hack-and-slash games like the Koei Warriors series really seem to attract simple-minded people like me, and I think that’s the reason why the Koei Tecmo fanbase has the problems it has. It’s kind of like e-girls with simps on their Twitch streams and OnlyFans accounts.

And by the way, you know what the funniest and saddest thing about the localisation of Dynasty Warriors 9 is? The Empires spinoff was unsurprisingly localised without an English dub, meaning that Koei Tecmo were too cheap to hire the cheap studio they hired to dub the main game in English, let alone in Mandarin. Oh, by the way, in case you missed it in my DW8 retrospective, Koei Tecmo switched from Voicegroup (with all the union voice actors) to Voxx Studios not because of the SAG-AFTRA voice actor strike, but because they were being cheap as usual. They might as well have not made an English dub for it at all, since they’ve essentially made it clear that they’re only making the effort to dub the mainline Dynasty Warriors games. But hey, at least they credited the English voice actors this time, right? Lol, that’s not even a decent compromise. Koei Tecmo only dug this hole for themselves because of their short-sighted business decisions; they are to the gaming industry and localisation what Toei is to international distribution and copyrights.

So anyway, what’s my plan for getting back into the Koei Tecmo fanbase? Like I said, my plans for content already been covered in a separate post. Currently, I’m playing Warriors Orochi 3 Ultimate and Samurai Warriors 4, but only in Japanese because I’m still bitter at Koei Tecmo’s treatment of the games’ localisation. I also downloaded Warriors Orochi 4 as well, but I’ll cross that bridge in regards to reviews if I decide to do it. Of course, I have no intention of getting back into their social media pages or reengaging in discourse regarding English dubs or the like, because I’ve had enough internet slapfights with people who are really no better than I am, if not worse.

People have blamed me for causing harm to the fanbase and that I’ll probably contribute to Koei Tecmo leaving the Western market, which is frankly bullshit because anyone who unironically thinks this has no idea how corporations work and how Koei Tecmo, as a corporation, have no shame in what they’re doing. In spite of all the “fake fan” gatekeeping (which I’ve personally experienced and frankly, think it is absolute bullshit), “real fans” like me (along with Jim, DrakeVagabond, Sex Gravy and the fans of my rants) bring light to things other people won’t talk about, so if Koei Tecmo does end up leaving the Western market, it won’t be because of people like me, it’ll likely be because of other factors (mostly relating to their main Japanese branch) or because they can’t take criticism. A lot of my naysayers from the Rant Series days are no longer on Tumblr, most likely because of the 2018 NSFW ban and I don’t blame them, but everything I’ve said since the DW9 post in 2018 is just one great big “I told you so”.

In the end, when nobody is listening to you, you just do what you can to enjoy what you have. I’m going to wrap up with a paragraph from my DW9 post in 2018 that already sums up the situation perfectly in my opinion (emphasis mine):

On the other hand, I’m not saying that you should blindly show gratitude in the hope that things will be better, because chances are that Koei Tecmo will keep doing what they want within their budget and regardless of what their fans think. If you want to buy this game and support Koei Tecmo, then by all means do that. If you want to voice your feedback on how this game could have been improved, then by all means do that as well. In turn, everyone should accept that people will have different opinions from them and thus, respect the feedback of others. However, if you remain optimistic in the delusion that Koei Tecmo will keep dubbing their games (fully) with the same voice cast from previous games or improve anything to give you a better gaming experience than the average one you have now, then I’m sorry to burst your bubble, but it’s probably not going to happen.

#dynasty warriors #samurai warriors #warriors orochi #koei tecmo #koei warriors

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butwhyduh · 3 years

Text

Ghosts

Tim Drake x reader

Warning: grief, maladaptive grieving strategies, alcohol, smut, ghosts

I wrote this probably 3 months ago and just now edited it.

You met Tim Drake at the graveyard. It was a blustery early February day. The snow was on the ground but hadn’t snowed in a few days. A short dry blessing for Gotham. Graveyards were the few places that were treated as sanctuaries that they were. Most people in Gotham knew more than their fair share of loved ones residing in multiple across the city.

You walked down the stone path. In the summer the lazy shade of oak trees covered the path but right now, the bare branches just hung mockingly as they protected only a little from Gotham’s frequently bad winds.

You pulled your coat a little tighter and wished you had grabbed a scarf too. Nevermind, your visit was going to be short. You moved with practiced ease through the tombstones. You knew exactly were they were buried. A delicate iron fence surrounded a small spattering of stones. His family plot.

You walked through the gate to a grave on the right side. A small stone vase was attached to the tombstone. You placed a single white daffodil before standing silently. You had nothing to say. Funny when you miss a final goodbye, you often run out of things to say afterwards. You couldn’t cry. It was too stiff. Too odd. All you could do is sigh deeply before walking out of the yard.

You swiftly walked down the path as you hoped to escape the place that caused so much pain. In your hast, you hadn’t bothered watching for others. People very rarely visited on such cold days. You ran into someone.

“I’m so sorry,” you gasped. You’d ran into a man that was clearly grieving. How terribly rude.

“I’m okay,” he said steadying you with a hand on your elbow.

“I’m so sorry to bother you. I’ll let you be,” you said, flushing even in the cold weather.

“Are you alright?” He asked looking at you carefully. You nodded but didn’t move. “Grief is odd, isn’t it? I had to come down here but feel nothing. Not a damn thing.”

You froze. Most people weren’t this honest. “I get it. Grieving sucks. And it never makes any sense, hu?”

“No. It really doesn’t. I think that I’ll come down here and have a deep conversation with him but nothing comes out. I get over here and feel silly talking to a stone,” he said with a sigh. You looked at him. He was about your age and wore a long black peakcoat and a red scarf that whipped in the wind. His clothes were impeccably tailored but looked almost too mature for him. Something a man closer to 30 would wear rather than a guy around 20. Black hair, icy blue eyes. A little bit of a natural sarcastic smile.

“Sometimes the words come when I sit for a while,” you offered.

“Do you- do you mind if I ask who you were visiting? Not their name but who they were to you? You don’t have to. I just wonder,” he said. You hesitated before speaking.

“My boyfriend. He was my boyfriend. And you?”

“My best friend,” he said. “I don’t visit enough. Not near enough.”

“I understand. I’ll let you be then. So you can talk to them instead,” you said carefully. Most people wanted quiet alone time with their dead loved ones. Unlike you. You felt a sense of relief. At least your ghosts weren’t speaking to you when there was someone there.

“Please don’t,” he said quickly. Perhaps not. Maybe you weren’t the only one haunted by ghosts, even if his was more metaphorical. “I just hate being here alone. You don’t have to stay. I’m just a weirdo asking you to hang around a random grave.”

“It’s okay. I really hate being here alone too,” you said barely over a whisper. He nodded. “Do you- do you want to talk about them?”

“Him. Not really. He was just so young. To be dead already,” he said. You looked at the headstone. Yes 22 was far too young to be in the ground. You didn’t say anything.

“I’ll wake up and forget he’s dead sometimes,” he said playing with his fingers roughly. “And it’s like he dies all over again.”

“I’m so sorry. I’ll have a dream so vivid that it’s like he’s back. Sleeping can be so cruel, can’t it?” You said, feeling your throat tighten a little.

“It’s the worst. I just see his death over and over. I think my mind hates me sometime,” he admitted before gulping. You nodded again. You didn’t trust your voice not to break and you could bear to cry.

“You’re freezing,” he said suddenly, looking at you. “Here,” he offered you his scarf and put it around your neck before you could truly protest. His soft cologne invaded your senses. “Do you want get a drink? Or a coffee?”

“I could use a drink,” you answered and he nodded. He kicked the dirt with the tip of his shoes.

“There’s a little pub around the corner. They play cliche Irish music but it’s pretty quiet with good drinks,” he said.

“What’s your name?” You asked.

“Tim. Yours?” He asked back and you told him your first name. “Drinks? It’s cool if not.”

“Yes. I’m half frozen at this point,” you admitted.

“I can tell. You need to wear more layers,” Tim said with a small smirk.

“Is that Gotham’s version of ‘you’re not from around here?’” You asked. He huffed in amusement.

“Basically. You’re from somewhere warmer,” he said. You shrugged in agreement. “Let’s get going before you freeze.”

“It would be the most ironic place to die,” you responded. He shook his head but didn’t seem upset at your dark humor.

The pub was Irish themed in a way that made you wonder if they did anymore research besides the color green and putting on Flogging Molly which isn’t really Irish anyways. But it was warm and smelled like fried food. You sat in a cramped booth in the back and you couldn’t help but notice just how out of place Tim looked. Everything about him screamed rich and this was a working class bar. Tim didn’t seem to mind though.

“Are you hungry,” he asked and you realized you had a rumbling in your stomach. When was the last time you ate?

“Yeah. I wasn’t hungry until just now,” you commented.

“Yeah I usually force myself to eat,” he said waving over the waiter, a tall skinny guy that looked about 14 with almost white blond hair wet with sweat. You both ordered food and drinks.

“What do you do for a living,” you asked Tim as the food arrived. You were finally warm.

“My job is really boring. I work in investment in a technological corporation,” he said and your eyebrows rose. Tim shedded his coat. “I told you, boring.”

“Sounds... serious,” you said with a little smile and he chuckled. His smile was handsome and he had pretty blue eyes.

“Well, yeah. What do you do? Is your job fun?” He asked in a teasing voice. Even as you smiled back at him, you felt guilty. How could you be happy right now?

“I’m a painter. Or I’d like to be. I mainly design advertisements for companies right now,” you said.

“Painting? That actually sounds fun,” he said a little surprised. “Sorry. I haven’t really been around people since...”

“Yeah. It’s hard to be there when their happy and you’re...” you said. Great. You just made it dark again.

“Yeah...”

“Hey pretty lady,” a drunk man said, sitting next to you in the booth, pushing you closer to the wall. “Have I seen an angel on a star, or whatever.”

“Okay, let’s get going,” Tim said standing up and putting his hand on the guy’s shoulder and the guy shrugged him off. “She doesn’t want to talk to you.”

“How do you know, rich boy? Maybe she wants to talk to a real man,” he said with a lopsided grin.

“I don’t,” you breathed as he leaned towards you. You pulled back against the wall. Tim pulled the man out of the booth. The guy growled and sized Tim up. He must have thought he had a good chance, being at least 4-5 inches taller and 50 lbs or more heavier.

He took a drunken swing at Tim who easily deflected away from him. The man didn’t stop but tried to punch Tim again. When he deflected another attack, the man grew even more red faced and tried to tackle Tim against the table. Before the gasp you made could fully come out, Tim had slipped out of the way and grabbed the back of the man’s neck and popped his face on the table. The man slid down unconscious to lay on the floor.

You stared with your mouth slightly agape. What the hell just happened??

“Are you okay?” Tim asked and you stuttered before assuring him you were. “Then we should probably get going. The bar won’t like this.”

“It’s a pub,” you corrected.

“Yeah, let’s go,” he said and you snapped out of it as he grabbed your hand and left out the building before the owner could throw you out. He instead screamed out the door that neither of you could come back. You and Tim ran down the street before stopping at the next block. You laughed loudly and after a confused second, Tim joined. He was still holding your hand.

“That’s the most fun I’ve had in a long time,” you said loudly before Tim shushed you. “How did you? He didn’t even get one hit in,” you breathed.

“Luck I guess?”

“Not a chance. You do karate or something,” you said, standing way too close to him. He grinned at you.

“Some Krav Maga. A little Jui Jitsu,” Tim said almost shyly and you nodded.

“I’ll pretend to know know what those are,” you said and he chuckled. “Thank you.”

“Not a problem,” Tim said staring at you. You caught him looking down at your lips. He was really handsome and had just saved you. Cliche? Totally. Did you care? No.

You put your arm on his other shoulder, Tim’s free hand slid to hold your waist. He bent until he was just short of kissing you. All you had to do was lean up to kiss him.

“Can I?” He breathed.

“Yes,” you whispered. He pressed his lips against yours. The kiss started gentle but before long Tim’s hand held your jaw as he pushed his tongue in your mouth. You made a little breathy moan. Tim pulled back to catch a breath but still rested his forehead against yours. You grabbed his collar and pulled him back in. He grasped your back and pressed your body against his. You were panting when you finally pulled your lips apart.

“My place is a few blocks away,” you breathed. He gave you a questioning look. “If you, if you wanna come back.” He nodded before giving you a dizzying kiss. “Through this alley and we’ll be there in 2 minutes.”

“You shouldn’t walk through alleys,” he said before giving you another kiss. You pulled him along.

“I think I’m fine with you.” You said kissing him before walking some more.

“Okay but still. Alleys are dangerous.” He answered before you placed another kiss on his lips.

“Yeah, and we’re out of the alley now,” you said. “And here’s my building,” you said suddenly shy. You didn’t want your neighbors seeing you kissing some random guy. Especially one obviously rich like Tim. He probably didn’t even know he stuck out. You pulled away from him.

You unlocked the door and quietly offered for him to walk in. Where did your boldness go? Tim stepped in and you thanked your stars that you had cleaned up that morning.

“Do you want a drink?” You asked as you shut the door. Tim hung his coat on a coat rack that had come with the places. He shook his head and walked over to you. His eyes looked over your body like he wanted to eat you.

“What do you want?” You whispered. He looked down at you with dark eyes. His lips were red from your kissing.

“You?” He said more as a question. Can I have you?

“Hmm,” you said with a little smirk before pulling him down by the collar to kiss more. Tim’s hands roamed your body, gentle at first and then more aggressive.

You knew you shouldn’t bring a man home. Not a one night stand. Especially because you were grieving. Emotional. But as dusk fell outside your window and his hands held you firmly, you couldn’t help but be grateful that he was chasing your ghosts away. He leaned over your in bed, his lips pressed against your collarbone as he fingered you.

“Do you have condoms?” He breathed against your skin in a rough voice.

“Bedside table, top drawer,” you answered. Tim reached over to grab one. “Are you sure? Do you want this?” He asked, holding it in hand.

“Yes,” you said taking the condom to roll it on yourself. Tim breathed out quickly as you jerked a few times before sliding it on. He leaned over you and carefully looked over your face before sliding in.

You arched into his touch as he moved. His touch was soft, sweet, cautious. But not in the way anyone in your life treated you. There was no pity. You weren’t a broken doll to be tiptoed around. He was grieving too. His movement sped up as you both got closer and you got out of your head.

You softly moaned his name as you came. Tim groaned before resting his forehead against yours as he finished. He pulled out and threw the condom away. He pulled on his boxers but didn’t seem to know what to do next.

“Stay,” you said and he looked at you surprised.

“Are you sure?”

“Just-just tonight. I hate sleeping alone,” you said, feeling small. The idea of him leaving had the place feel colder, darker. Tim seemed to deliberate in his head before nodding.

“I can stay just tonight,” he said and you weren’t quite sure if he was telling you or himself. He climbed in bed and you scooted closer. He laid on his side and you slid closer to spoon. It was comforting to hear another heartbeat and feel the warmth of a body. It’d been months since you’d had that. Even if it was just one night, you didn’t feel alone. It felt secure and you quickly fell asleep.

You woke up to the unfamiliar but pleasant sensation of laying on a man’s chest wrapped up tight in blankets. A steady heartbeat and warm skin was soothing in the early morning light. You almost drifted off to sleep to the sounds of his breathing when you saw her.

A ghost. A woman in her late 30s or early 40s in conservative upper class women clothing that wasn’t too out of date. She had her arms crossed over her chest and she looked down at you both in disapproval. Her nose looked like Tim’s and she had the same black straight hair as he did.

You gulped and tried to blink her away. That worked some times. Not today. It was weird to see her anyways. Wasn’t it his make best friend that died? Who was she? She stepped closer and you stiffened. She was self-aware and was trying to speak to you. A very determined ghost indeed.

Tim moved in his sleep as if he could sense her presence. She reached out her hand as if she wanted to push the hair back on his forehead. You gasped as she moved closer. What kind of fucking ghost...? Tim woke up and she disappeared with a pop.

“You okay? You look scared or something,” he said in a rough pretty morning voice. You debated answering him truthfully that he was haunted by a mean looking woman but decided against it. He was a one night thing right?

“Nothing. Go back to sleep,” you said and he nuzzled closer.

“Hmm I’d rather have breakfast,” he muttered kissing your neck. You flushed. You hadn’t bothered shopping in a while.

“I don’t really- my fridge is-“

“Not the kind I’m talking about,” Tim said gently pushing you to your back.

“Oh,” you said as he slid beneath the sheets. You certainly weren’t complaining as he kissed down your body. He was good at it but it was also a great tactile distraction. Ghosts weren’t there when you were far to busy to see them.

It’s a little different so let me know what you think.

#batboy x reader #Tim drake x reader #Red Robin x reader #Tim drake smut #Red Robin smut #Tim drake angst #Red Robin angst

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jodilin65 · 32 years

Text

SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 23, 1992 I am now with my nieces at my sister’s house. Becky really wanted to see me write in my journal. So, that is exactly what I’m doing.

Lisa helped me with Sarah and showed me how to prepare her bottle. Then, we changed her diaper and put her down for her nap. I am doing my laundry. In another half an hour I will go downstairs and check it.

Becky brushed my hair. She did a good job.

FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 21, 1992 I am listening to some of the edits now but soon I’m gonna go to sleep.

Earlier Fran called me with Andy on his 3-way. Fran called Andy first cuz Andy can’t call long-distance either. A new policy just went into effect as too many people are stiffing the phone co. He has to have his long-distance blocks on for a year as he’s a new customer and he put down a $175 deposit. That really sucks. He has a letter he’s working on for me. He already has 11 pages done and he read me the first page. He also wrote a song for me which was nice and he’s working on my tapes. While he’s making my tapes, he’s also gonna tape Rick and Nervous for Fran. Fran’s been wanting that for quite a while now. Andy also said he taped Gloria’s concert from the Disney channel, but I told him Tammy beat him to it. Lastly, he wants more bracelets and to remember the beach this August.

Oh, I’ve been thinking about that beach, alright. That’s for damn sure. All I’ve been dying to do is wear summer clothes, go to the beach, go swimming and get a tan.

I hope Jessie and Cassandra come see me. I really really miss Cassandra and I thank God in a way that she’s out of my life. I never wrote about it but I am glad I didn’t know her too long. I think I was developing a little too much liking for her. Of course, I never had the guts to tell her even though knowing her, she’d be flattered. That lady really believed in me and truly admired me and told me many times I was pretty. Who knows what was really going through her mind? I used to wonder and I still do. She knew, though, where my feelings stand as far as relationships go and also that I’d be moving.

Kim, I doubt I’ll ever see, but that’s ok.

THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 20, 1992 I am scared to go to bed. Well, not scared of going to bed, scared of waking up. Every morning I’ve been waking up wheezing like hell and I also think my lungs are bleeding. When I cough up it tastes like blood and I’ve never had that before. Yellow and green and brownish color is supposed to mean an infection. They just gave me another round of antibiotics and the same old shit’s right back again as usual. Same thing with down below. I think some people are immune to antibiotics and also some people’s infections are permanent. It sure has gone on now for 3 years and gets worse each year.

Since I’m so young and so trapped and not one of the very lucky and very few who can quit smoking for good, I wish I’d die. I hate feeling like this and how it’s blocking me from singing without coughing. Even though I’m sure at this day and age I’d never be a singer anyway. I wish they’d just say, “Hey, don’t worry about quitting, which you can’t do, or suffering anymore. You’re gonna die soon of lung cancer or emphysema anyway.”

Later…

I woke up feeling pretty good, thank God.

What’s taking Andy so long to call me back? Maybe he’s mad at me, but it’s not my fault I’ve been busy and moved earlier than we thought. Fran hasn’t called back yet, but that’s easy to understand. He lost my number. I’m not gonna call him 3 or 4 times till he gets it straight. I hope Bob, Kim and Jessie call soon, too. I miss Cassandra and I hope everything’s ok with her.

Next Friday I have an appointment with an asthma doctor on March 4th I’ll see a new therapist named Barbara G. I hate having to start all over again and wonder if she’s good, bad, fat, ugly, pretty or skinny? What matters is her ability to understand me without putting words in my mouth and misjudging me. From the sound of her name, I imagine an older, gray-haired lady. Oh well, that part doesn’t matter even though you’re naturally curious to see the face of the person you’re gonna spill your life story out to.

I can’t believe no one’s knocked on my door yet. If they do, I’m not answering unless they call first.

I’d like to maybe start looking for a good time but now I have two more reasons to hesitate. One is that I don’t have a real bed set up. Two is that my living in a dump is all the more reason to attract losers. I’d have to get ahold of the personals like an Advocate or something. As far as calling a number I got from the CC, I don’t know. My biggest concern, naturally, is sorting through the many butches with the hope of finding an ultra-feminine woman who’s attractive. And mutually attractive to me too, of course, cuz I’m so feminine. It’s one thing to meet someone and talk to them that you know is only gonna be a friend. I can handle that. It’s talking to a potential sex partner that gets tricky. I’m always so on guard and self-conscious. Especially if God forbid she is pretty. I’m always wary of what to say or do and question the things I’ve already done and said. This is my one and only case where I’m so shy rather than just unsure, skeptical and in doubt of someone. Where do I begin? What do I do? Do I just do what I’ve done in the past?

Someone’s fucking knocking on my door! It was Jennifer and I told her I was busy, and from now on I’m not answering my fucking door. I really like her and the other kids, but they’re getting on my nerves. How many times will it take for them to get it? To call me first? 50 more times? I’d rather have my train of thought rudely interrupted by the phone.

As far as going about meeting women, I think I’ll just sit on it for a while. I’d want what I’ve always fantasized about. A gorgeous cop. But not with the way they can abuse the law if they have a beef with you. They use their badge as a weapon to enforce their personal lives to meet their approval. Or the lives of others, if they want to. They can make it better or worse depending on who and what you are. I wouldn’t trust her even though I highly doubt I’d have to think about it or worry about it. As if I’d ever really meet a gorgeous female cop and get her in bed? Yeah, right. Dream on, even though dreaming sure is a hell of a lot of fun. You know me, I’d rather dream before I ever settle. Dreaming’s no crime and I sure as hell don’t feel guilty about it. I can tell fantasy from reality, whether I like it or not.

Later…

I sang 3 songs which were better than any other times I’ve sung since I moved. However, I’m still pretty congested and my chest feels tight and heavy. I’m being very careful and trying to discipline myself with the smokes. I’d like to wake up alive tomorrow too, and not half dead. I’ve upped my meds a little which Dr. Leitch advised me to do a while back. The Theodur makes you wicked spastic, though, and I’m plenty energetic enough.

I let Shadow run around outside again today. He gets to be a real pain in the ass and I can’t trust him. When I want to write, listen to music or watch TV, I don’t want to have to keep jumping up to be sure he’s not destroying anything. When I leash him down, he conveniently thrashes his leash around which is metal and tangles himself up. I want to get him a rope leash which is quiet and hard to tangle as it’s slippery. Then he can trash his litter box which is already one big toy and a way to make a mess. Never have I ever heard of a cat who gets off on me cleaning up after him and hitting him. I hit him and he comes back for more, stands still, lets me do it, has a grin on his face, then gets all lovey-dovey. You’d think that any cat who’s really afraid would behave better and cats aren’t stupid either.

WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 19, 1992 I called and scheduled an appointment with an asthma doctor and a therapist. I got my check in the mail from Peter and I’m gonna cash that tomorrow as well as stop at the office for a copy of my lease and to show her Shadow’s papers. I need to show Mary Jane that Shadow’s been neutered and vaccinated. They say you can only have 1 small dog or cat. It can’t exceed 25 pounds or 12” in height. Shadow’s shorter than 12”. His head’s a little over that but I’ll have to ask Mary Jane about his tail. I was cracking up thinking, what about his tail. Is that ok? Cuz his tail is definitely above 12” when he stands it straight up.

Both the electric and phone companies are at Thames Plaza. Maybe I can get that taken care of tomorrow. I’ll reschedule the cable now that I’ve got Peter’s check for $131.25.

I gave Bob a call and he said he’ll call me when he can afford it. He has a high phone bill.

When I looked in my teddy bear phonebook to write new numbers in I said, “Holy shit!” I knew I’d written in Andy’s new apartment number but had totally forgotten he did give me his new phone number. With all that’s been going on, I’d forgotten all about it and figured he wasn’t moving yet. I normally would never forget something like that.

Also, I called Kim and left her a message. I told her now I got this dump fixed up but there’s a problem. Every time I look out my window I see cactuses and palm trees. Why? Am I losing my mind? Then, I finished by telling Mark to say hi to Lisa S and to tell Laurie H it’d come in handy for her to know we could do some handy things together. Also, Gloria and Linda say hi. Hahahahaha!

I’ve written letters to Fran, Nervous, Kim and Bob, and to Andy and Cassandra. Perhaps, I can write to Kacey, Hank, Mattie, Jenny, and Maliheh again someday. They’d love that. Maliheh’s sure to have gotten her letter by now.

I’m pretty tired now and am gonna hit the sack. God, do I ever hope I do not wake up wheezing! It’s been worse since I moved here. I should take my breathalyzer one more time to be sure.

Later…

Today I learned a few more things. Yesterday Layne and her friend showed me the path to Price Rite. As Tammy had said, the bank is right across the street. I deposited most of Peter’s check.

The girls and I browsed through TJ Max which is a clothing store. It’s ok and lots of the stuff was on sale. I have seen on TV, magazines and other people thousands of outfits I’d kill for. I can’t wait till I can go shopping after I buy a washer and dryer. I bought a really pretty barrette with gold stars hanging off and a maroon scrunchy ponytail holder with black string fringes around it. Also, 4 packs of smokes with 2 free lighters and a bag of bite-size Milky Way bars.

I stopped at the office on the way back. The girls showed me how to get to it by circling around. It was a long walk, but fun. Mary Jane was busy so another girl photocopied Shadow’s papers, had me sign a form and they also want a picture of him for their files. That’s stupid but I guess it’s to see the animal’s size.

Upon reaching the office, the girls continued back. I walked back afterward, and the mailman was there with my CDs from Columbia House. I was so psyched!

I danced for an hour and a half and then vacuumed, changed Shadow’s box, and my bed. My cushion chair, I should say.

Someone just knocked on my door which I did not answer. I told these kids 10,000 times to call me first. Layne and Jenny were here earlier and Tammy was too sick to drop by today. Tammy was gonna pick me up so I could do my laundry and Bill was gonna bring me home. He hasn’t seen the place all fixed up. I guess Saturday or Sunday I’ll be at their house. Also, they need me to babysit.

I still have zillions of dishes, pots, glasses, mugs and silverware to wash. I will do that shortly and take a nice long, hot, relaxing bath. I’ll also watch more videos and write more letters.

MONDAY, FEBRUARY 17, 1992 Before I left Massachusetts, I got a letter from Andy. Apparently, he wrote it at work with some friend who also works there. She also wrote a page.

I think today’s Andy’s birthday. He’s 30 years old if it is.

Later…

Again I woke up with a slight attack. Therefore, I’m nervous about even going to bed. But I’ve got to, don’t I? I must keep on schedule, which is, of course, easy to do cuz of next door. I’ve only slept till noon or 1:00 twice since I’ve been here and I’ve been here for 10 days now.

This Thursday I’ll be babysitting for the girls all day. Tomorrow, I’ve got to call to cancel the cable till I make sure I get and cash Peter’s check. I must also call for an asthma doctor, a dentist and a therapist. I must also call the electric company and go to Thames Plaza for my phone hook-up discount. Lastly, get my lease copied for Sheila.

At 10:30 this morning Tammy came over with the girls and we went to McDonald’s. After we went to Price Rite, she showed me around a bit, then dropped me off back here.

I spoke with Barbara and Jenny for a while. Barbara was sad due to her husband Dave’s mom dying. Barbara had already lost her mom and her brother when he was only 18. After that, Layne came over and she showed me a path in some woods that lead right to Price Rite. On our way back we swung on some swings out in the back of other projects a few buildings down. I also met Layne’s mom.

SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 15, 1992 Well, not too much has happened since I last wrote. The family next door continues to wake me up every fucking morning. So far, in a way, they’ve been doing me a favor by keeping me on schedule. However, if there was a night that I was up very late and wanted to sleep late - forget it. School or not, it’s a zoo over there as early as 7 AM.

Like I said, the place is fully decorated now but it’s such a dump. I’m just going to pretend I love it here as much as I can. For a girl who’s so open, honest and blunt, I’ve decided to not kiss ass and lie, but pretty much keep my mouth shut. With personal issues. Not all of them but mostly depending on what I feel my mother and sister could handle. Mom could care less, and Tammy - well - she’s partially a different story. It’s like she can and cannot handle shit. I mean heavy-duty shit or stuff she’s not into or knows so little about. She’s not stupid and she does care and understand somewhat, but she’s always been a billion times moodier and hysterical than me. And I can get quite bad at times. We both learn to deal with shit better as we grow older. Everyone does. But my moods are blown over and done with quickly. I’m able to somehow, as hard as it can be, find a way to laugh and cheer myself up. Tammy’s moods drag on and on forever and it’s always something new. The issues that have frustrated me in the past, and partially now, are only 3 or 4 issues. With her, it’s both old news and a new problem each time I see her. Although Tammy’s taken after Mom in several ways and she and I are complete opposites, there’s not a thing in the world I wouldn’t do for her if I could compared to that fucking control freak mother of ours. That little fucking bitch had the nerve to both tell me how I should and I do and I will feel about living here. How she should’ve put her foot down 3 years ago about me living here. I tell her how the timing was off, I needed to sit on it for a while for many other reasons other than Andy, I’m an adult who’ll make up her own fucking mind. When and if I’m ready to. Then, she tells me that’s what parents are for.

I asked, “To control me?”

She says, “Yes.”

I answered, “When someone’s under 18, that’s the time to do what you want them to do and not be supportive of their decisions.” Of course, I wasn’t in the mood to get into the Brattleboro Retreat and bring up other stuff.

When are these people gonna live their lives only? Stop telling people how to live, what to do, say, wear? Offering totally false, stupid, immature, ignorant, crude, unnecessary opinions? When are people gonna stop playing with my head? Stop contradicting me? Stop leading me on? Stop lying to me and misjudging me and calling me a liar? Let me be myself? LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE?!?!?!?!?

It gets easier and easier to see myself dumping them one of these days. Soon, they’re gonna lose kid number two. And as we all know, I’m half on Larry’s side and the other half resents him, but it’s gonna be two gone, one more to go. They’re not worth it. They’re not my type and I can’t deal with people like that in my life anymore.

Well, enough of that shit and all that bitching. However, as I said before, here’s where I’ll do my bitching as well as the happy or so-so stuff. For Tammy, I’ll put on a happy face within reason as much as I can. The few issues I’ve been dealing with, she knows about. Like music and wanting more one-nighters with “real” women. Other than that, my asthma and the dive, all is usually well.

Earlier we all went to Friendly’s for ice cream. Tammy, Bill and the 3 girls, plus a friend of Lisa’s. Tammy was in a tense pissed-off mood. What it was all about, who knows? I couldn’t hear all that well over the girls and the crowd in the place.

Our waiter was a definite fem who reminded me of Andy. Andy, Tammy and I ate lunch in there a long time ago. In the “No Fags Allowed” section of Norwich (NFA). Bill said it stands for Norwich Free Academy. I knew that, but once I swore to Andy it was National Football Association. Andy insisted it was a police academy. So, in the end, we agreed to keep it as No Fags Allowed till we found out for sure.

I met Mary Jane when I walked into the office to sign the lease which is month to month and give her a check. The rent’s $139, not $138. Oh well. She’s pitifully ugly yet very nice. When she was going through stuff like the rent, power and dumpster, she pulls out the eviction policy and says, “We don’t have to worry about this.” I thought, gee thanks. How kind of you.

The shirt I wore to Friendly’s has long sleeves but doesn’t cover my whole forearm when I reach out. First I was hit with Bill asking what happened and I said, “You know what happened.”

He said, “No, I don’t know. How could I know?”

I said softly, “A few months ago. You know, as in setback.”

He said, “Oh.” And that was that.

Luckily Tammy was in the bathroom so she could be spared a fit or a heart attack. The second time I went to reach for the ashtray in the center of the table and every person at the table took a good long hard glance at it. Even though Cassandra said I’m not a bad person for doing it, and to learn from it, I’m angry at myself and trying my best to block it out. That stops me from being so angry about what I did. If I block it out, I mean. Most things I can face, express and discuss head-on. So you know if I’m that angry, it hurts. It really hurts and I hate myself for it. Otherwise, I’m basically happy with who, how and what I am.

Jessie, Kim, Bob and Cassandra are the only ones that have my new address and number. As I said, I’ve spoken to Jessie 3 times. Cassandra may call and I may call and write her a letter. She also says she may come to see me this summer. I know Jessie will be here soon, but I doubt I’ll ever see Kim or Bob again in my life. Yes, I will write to them. All they ever talk about is getting my crazy letters with all our lines. Maybe Bob will call me someday. He told Kim, “I miss that little shit.” Tonight I tried to call him collect but it wouldn’t go through. I did leave a message on Ann Marie’s machine. I hope to get another good time in the sack with her, but good luck to myself. Kim called me the day I moved in. I was cracking up when she told me Mark said he misses me. That I was honest, friendly and funny. I know he always liked me but many people have been slightly freaked out by my energy and uniqueness at first till they get to know me. Then when I’m gone, it’s so quiet and they miss me.

Funny thing is, though, when I moved, I told myself I’d dump everyone. Even considered Andy. But then I said why do that? Especially when he’s so far away and we don’t have to deal with each other on a regular basis? Now, I don’t know what I’ll do but Fran and Nervous are old news. That is for sure. I do miss shooting the shit with Fran though. Maybe I can write to him and enclose my number in time. For now, I’ll leave him both mad and wondering. He knew I was planning a move here. I told Tammy to give Andy my number if he calls. When I got my new number, it was too late. He’d already changed his as he said he was going to. Then, when he tried to call me, I’d already split and no one knew it’d be so soon. Andy’s new phone is in his own name, but he’s not listed. What’s taking him so long to call Tammy for my number? Either he’s busy, not in the mood to be lectured by Tammy or Tammy lied about telling me she’d give him my number. But would she lie? We promised each other no bullshit and to say “no” rather than yes and bullshit one another. I can always write him a letter and find out whatever is going on.

FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 14, 1992 I am fully unpacked now. The place is decorated so it looks a little nicer. It is one major dive of a shoebox, though. It needed all the help it could get.

I met my neighbors next door, Barbara, Dave, and their 4 kids. They have a 4-bedroom which is quite bigger than mine. Even their kitchen and living room are much bigger.

My living room is smaller than the bathroom I had in S. Dfld. Stand in the center of the living room here, take just two steps, front, back, left and right and you’ll hit the wall. I have also met about 10 of the kids here who are nice. Barbara and Dave are nice, too. There’s this 9-year-old girl named Layne who’s been here every day along with other kids. She’s a very sweet kid and was a great help the day I moved in. She helped me finish decorating the walls last night. The funny thing about it is that these people came to me. I never initiated the first step to meeting them. They’re cool, however, I don’t want to keep meeting people. Especially those who live here so as to avoid any problems which may occur. As you know, I’ve learned some valuable lessons the hard way. I’ve no intention of causing any trouble but trouble very well may come to me that I haven’t asked for or deserve. I’m not going through that shit again if I can help it.

Tammy’s been a great help till I get my checks and the check Peter owes me. She bought me groceries and I’ll pay her back on March 1st. I also must get some shades and save for a washer and maybe a dryer.

The cable people will be here next Tuesday. The sucky thing about it is that you cannot even get regular TV without cable. Such as NBC, ABC and CBS as there’s no antenna on the roof. It’s at least an automatic $18 monthly if you want any TV at all. I got a new bank which is where Tammy’s account is. I signed up for Direct Deposit and have taken care of SS. All I must do now is go to the phone company for my hookup discount and the utility people, too.

I called the CC which is different from Springfield and Northampton. They’re both very small and there are two numbers. One for emergency services and another called Contact if you really want to talk and get shit off your chest. They’re both 24-hour services. The girl I spoke to gave me some referrals as far as places to go for therapy.

I’m far from ready to meet someone for a one-nighter now, but cuz the Ann Maries of this world are so few and far between, I must get started soon. By the time I ever meet a woman I’m attracted to who also is attracted to me (if I’m so lucky again), I’ll be ready. Especially if it is a year or so from now as it’s likely to take that long.

My nieces have been here a few times and I’ve enjoyed seeing them. All 3 of them spent a couple of hours here while Bill and Tammy went to her doctor. They had a nice time and Sarah never cried once. I gave Lisa my number and she and I spoke for quite a while on my second night here.

When they come here, they love for me to do their hair and put makeup on them. They also have a kick for “grown-up” shoes. My black high-heeled pumps fit Lisa perfectly. And Layne, too. They’re both almost my size.

Tammy also lent me several movies so I don’t even need any movie channel.

Tammy also said she was impressed with how well I did with the girls and with putting makeup on them. It was sort of funny as I’ve done that before.

The funniest thing she said was that she envied me. I laughed and said how I envy Gloria. Speaking of Gloria, I saw the tape they taped for me off the Disney channel. She looked hot and I’d kill for the clothes she wore. What taste she has which is exactly the same as mine!

Tammy also taped Law & Order and Reasonable Doubts. Marlee Matlin looked gorgeous as usual, too.

I am not using my waterbed here as there’s no room for it. I’m sleeping on my folding chair/bed cushion. It’s more comfortable than the couch as the couch tilts at an angle.

Mom and Dad called to wish me a happy Valentine’s Day, and Dad said I was always good at decorating and to have fun with that. Yeah, it’s been great fun, alright. I couldn’t put up a fraction of my picture collection if I wanted to cuz there’s so little space. I have a few pictures of Gloria in my bedroom. Most of my other stuff is up everywhere.

As for the clothesline out back, well, no way can I use it for the most part. Not in this area with kids all over and all kinds of people. Perhaps clothes I don’t care about all that much like T-shirts, jeans, sweatpants and sweatshirts. Dresses, skirts, halter tops and shorts I’d rather not as they are what I like best and I’d rather not take the chance of them being stolen. My underwear, no way! As I told Tammy, my underwear isn’t all that plain and simple. It’s just a wee bit on the sexy side. Sexy pieces of dental floss, Kacey and Brenda used to say.

Jessie called twice and I got my suits in the mail. That did get all screwed up with all the moving as I knew Jessie better. She’d never fuck me over like that. It was funny, though, when they arrived. Tammy was here when we heard them tossed inside the screen door. Tammy opens the inner door, pulls it up and says, “Gee, the mailman must’ve got his jollies for sure with this.” There was a little tear in the envelope and hanging out from it was one of the tops.

Jessie’s gonna drive down sometime soon. She’s still trying to find her real mother. She’s not certain she lives here in Norwich where the adoption agency is she was adopted from. She doesn’t even know her name. I told her I will help her if I can. If she gets a name, I’ll look it up and give her the information if it’s listed. She knows she has two older sisters and that one’s deaf.

SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 9, 1992 Norwich…

I am here in the new place in Norwich, CT as of yesterday and I absolutely hate it! Other than having my rent be only $138 and some family close by, it absolutely sucks. The apartment is a complete dump and it’s half the size of the Oswego St. apartment. I always swore that apartment was almost the smallest and the worst I ever lived in. Even Oswego St. is heaven compared to this one. Not the neighborhood, although this one isn’t too much better. It’s a little seedy and the apartment is filthy. The floors and walls are ok but the place is caked with dirt. The windows, all the kitchen appliances, except for the refrigerator and stove. The tub is huge but there’s no shower so I have to wash my hair in my kitchen sink unless I do it while I’m in the tub. The bathroom was filthy too.

The worst part of it is all the neighbors. Tammy and I are gonna talk to Mary Jane tomorrow as I’ve never even known such noise could exist. They make more noise than I have in my whole life in only one hour. Mary Jane never told me part of the adjacent apartment was over mine. Also that the kids climb out their bedroom window onto the roof which is my living room ceiling. They run all around the outside by my place screaming, too. They bang, stomp and scream inside their place. I cannot even stay in my bedroom and hear myself think. It’s hard enough to do so here in my living room where I am now.

It is totally horrendous and I’ve got to get the fuck out!

Tammy says something can be done about it. Yeah, right. Like what? There are 4 kids over there. What are you gonna do? Chain them to a chair? There’s never even a 30-second period where I can’t hear a noise of some kind. When their phone rings, I think it’s mine. I can hear every word they say and I’m half deaf. I couldn’t even take a nap as I was so tired and still am. I’m not going to bed until midnight if this shit keeps up like it did till midnight last night.

I have very much more to write about but I will another time. I’m too tired, pissed, sad and I just want to throw my headphones on, keep them on and drown out the noise. Of course, I’ll still feel the vibrations of them dropping or moving shit as they do every other second.

THIS SUCKS!!!!!!!!!!!

MONDAY, FEBRUARY 3, 1992 I had a great day today. First I called Chief B and either this Wednesday or Thursday I’ll see him, Carol and Harry about my tapes.

Tomorrow, I see Sheila, but I canceled tonight with Cassandra. Cassandra called me, luckily, as I left the message with her son at her house. We’re going to possibly meet Wednesday around noon, but she said, she’d leave a message on my machine verifying the exact date and time.

Bob picked me up at 10:00. From there we went to Greenfield where I bought Linda’s new CD all in Spanish. It’s called Mas Canciones and there are 12 songs. On the cover, she looks good.

I also got 2 new journals so now I have 27 of them.

After that, we picked up Sandra at their place in Turners Falls and went to Food Fart back in Greenfield. I spent $70 but not all on food. I got a plant, a plant hanger and these really cute things all for a buck each. Besides two new pens, I got all these magnet things. Three were of flowers with lace around the edges and a cheerful saying on them like, “home is where you hang the heart.” Each one has different colors and they’re cute. A wooden teddy bear magnet with a clothes clip attached to it. I clipped my calendar onto it. Two memo boards that are the cutest of all. They’re small. Only around 5x7 with the pen attached to it and when you write, you can erase it with a damp paper towel or napkin. They’re both two different teddy bear designs and are oh-so-adorable.

Bob gave me some planting soil and repotted the plant I got today. I cut little clippings off of both of them and stuck them in a glass of water. I have extra pots Bob gave me for when they root. I’m gonna make zillions of offspring from these originals. He also gave me a mug holder he made that holds six mugs and another wooden figurine.

SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 2, 1992 I spoke briefly to Bob and now I’m doing two loads of laundry.

Any minute, beginning tomorrow, I should have a definite moving date. They managed to get a couple of guys from the fire department to move me. Bill will be coming up with them unless he has to work. If he has to work, Tammy will come up.

Shadow’s being all lovey-dovey, of course, after doing a few things that really pissed me off.

Another thing that really irks me is TV. Are the writers on strike or something like that? Everything is all repeats and I thought they don’t rerun the shows till the summer. There have been very very few new shows. Unsolved Mysteries is always showing repeats and with all the crime in this world, you’d think they could come up with new shows.

I wish I could just pack up and get the hell out of here. I’m so goddamn bored and this place is a disaster. I just want to get it all packed and take the fuck off.

Later…

I just sang a few songs. Meanwhile, I’m just sitting here remembering and missing some of the old times. Some of the not-so-cool times now make me laugh. At least there was more excitement than I experienced living here, although I don’t prefer to relive certain experiences. Also, it’s not to say that I’ve had no excitement here of a bad nature because I certainly have!

Tomorrow morning I have to call Chief B. I have to see Sheila at 10:15 on Tuesday.

Besides fun memories of Andy and other people, I sure miss Nervous in certain ways. What a source of great entertainment he was being the sucker that he is. For a lot of people. Not just me. Even though Nervous was a sucker and had a number of things about him people resented, we all liked him nonetheless. Nervous and I have had many great talks and he’s done me many favors I really appreciated. Many things wouldn’t have been impossible, but very tough without his help. I miss his spying and playing the crossed-call-waiting game with him.

I wish Andy would call, and one future event I’m really looking forward to is the beach. I’m staying with him for 4 nights and 5 days. I’m looking more and more forward to having summer hurry up and arrive. Always thinking about swimming, tanning and summer clothes. Getting into shape too, even though people say I look fine. I’m getting more and more muscular with time but I really want to get rid of this bloat and pull my inner thighs in a bit.

I laughed when one of Dr. Leitch’s nurses said I was small-framed and also, according to my height, I should be between 103-113 pounds.

Later…

Thank God I was never left-handed. How could I play the guitar if I was? Someone once said to turn the guitar around and I burst out laughing. That’s even more impossible than reading both upside down and backward at once. You’d literally have to change the entire chord patterns.

God, am I gonna miss this apartment! It isn’t worth the 100% isolation, though, that’s for sure.

I know life will never be anywhere near the life I really want. I will feel useless and unfulfilled and rather sad and angry at times but I sure hope it’s better than this. There’s got to be a better life and a way to settle happily for second best. A way to settle down.

I just put Shadow in the stairwell and he better not claw the door. What am I gonna do about him when I move? I sure as hell can’t let him roam around freely while I’m out or asleep. He’ll claw my bedroom door and trash the place and run around. I’d like to get a longer leash that’s a rope type of material rather than this metal chain. He’ll clatter that all over the place. I want to get him a longer leash, too. I haven’t seen the layout of this place on the inside or outside yet, but he must be leashed down. Hopefully, that can be outdoors as he’s a very disrespectful and destructive cat at times and I will not put up with babysitting him. Or cat-proofing my whole entire place. Leashing him down indoors will do no good if he’s that determined to piss me off. You know how he likes to be hit at times and yelled at.

I just got up, went into the stairwell and did something to guarantee he doesn’t wake me up tonight. I took two barrettes, a very long extension cord, and his leash. Hooked his leash to his collar, clamped one barrette to one end of the extension cord, clamped the other barrette and the other end of the cord to a scarf tied onto the railing.

Later…

I just left Kim a note and stuck my answering machine inside my cabinet. I do that so as not to be woken up by its clicking as it resets itself. I hate that. The good thing about it is, though, if I’m up and have forgotten to turn on my ringer and someone calls it clicks right before and after their message. If they leave one. Fran or maybe even Andy will probably try calling tonight.

Well, I’ve got to go and at least lay down at this point. I have written a total of 42 pages between my last journal and the beginning of this one. I’m still in the kitchen so I’m gonna get my tired butt out of this chair and move on into the bedroom. I wish early evening would just hurry up and arrive so I can go to sleep.

SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 1, 1992 When I woke up, there was a message from Fran. I wish he or Andy would call me now.

Jessie told me she mailed out my 3 bathing suits. True to my doubt I never got them. Why is she doing this to me? What is the point? Why does she feel the great need to lie to me and keep those suits? She’s always been 100% honest with me so why is she pulling this on me now? I’ve never lied to her or borrowed anything from her and refused to return it.

Later…

I spoke with Bob for a little while then took all my pictures down. I took them down from the bedroom, living room, and stairwell.

Just as soon as Sugar Loaf Market opens, I am gonna go get ciggies, cat food, munchies and that Lactaid. I hope they have it. This bloating’s driving me nuts. It’s gonna put stretch marks on me something horrible. And believe me, I already have tons of stretch marks, craters, and scars. My skin’s so blotchy, too. I wish I had a smoother complexion. I hope Sugar Loaf Market sells it cuz who knows when I can get it with Kim if I have to go to Greenfield.

Bob says he can probably take me grocery shopping early Monday morning.

I haven’t done more editing yet, but I was listening to some tapes. I guess I’ll go hear some more.

Later…

I went to Sugar Loaf Market and they don’t have that Lactaid. Neither does Cumberland. I did spend $27, though. I got a carton of smokes as well as some food.

No mail at all today.

Fucking Jessie pisses me off. I’m so disappointed with that little fuck. And shocked as I never figured she’d pull something like this on me. I know she’s in school and has a kid and when you’ve got a kid you’ve got no life but there’s still no excuse.

Tammy’s taping Gloria tomorrow night which is great. I really do appreciate her doing that.

Tomorrow I have to change Shadow’s box and clean up a bit. At least try to neaten and organize stuff better. When you’re gonna move, yet not right away, it can become quite confusing. Especially when you’re only half-packed and you cannot pack everything at once cuz you know there’s stuff you’ll still need.

I vow never to give up writing like I gave up reading. Giving up reading isn’t something I wanted to do. It just happened. I can’t get into it anymore. I wish it didn’t happen that way cuz I loved reading very much. I really used to enjoy it but I guess writing is very different.

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beautiful-songbird · 2 years

Text

The Strings of My Heart [19] - Unearthing the Past

← Chapter 18 | Chapter 20 →

Pairing: Zoro x Jupiter

Genre: fluff, angst, f2l

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: mentions of trauma

Summary: Zoro’s moved to sunny California for college to escape from the life of fame for a little while. But when he loses his violin case in the second week of school, he’s sure his college experience has just gone up in flames. What will he do when, despite all odds, his case is returned to him?

—————

Zoro was glad for the break that came with the Thanksgiving holiday. For his family, it was mostly just an excuse to get together and eat. Eat a lot, that was. That was followed by Black Friday, where his grandparents went to cut down their Christmas tree. He’d be joining them this year. It wasn’t often he was in town during November, but he did remember the couple times he’d gone to get a Christmas tree with them. He’d been ten the last time he really remembered doing it.

Admittedly, the drive down to Temecula was awfully boring alone. He’d discovered this in February when he’d driven down to escape Jupiter’s parents and the memory of the airport, but he’d been too panicked to care then. Now, he was wishing he had Jupiter to accompany him like she had in the summer.

Oliver was out the front door the moment Zoro pulled up to his uncle’s house.

“You’re here! You should change and come down to the beach with us.”

“Ollie, get back inside! Let Zoro breathe!”

Zoro climbed out of his car just in time to see Luna waddle down the front path. His eyes widened.

“I haven’t seen you this pregnant in five years,” he laughed.

She groaned. “Don’t remind me. I’m so tired of being pregnant, but I still have a whole month to go.”

“When’s the baby due?”

“Your dad’s birthday. Isn’t that funny?”

“That is funny,” he chuckled.

Oliver tugged on his hand. “Come on, Zoro. Go change! It’s half an hour to the beach.”

“You do know I’m staying with Grammy and Grandpa, right?”

“I don’t care!”

Luna nodded towards the house. “Kohen’s gonna be here soon to pick us up. We’re headed down to Carlsbad.”

Zoro sighed. “All right, fine. I’ll come. Let me go change.”

◇◆◇◆◇

Zoro was crammed into the back of Kohen’s dinky car with Oliver not fifteen minutes later.

“I wish you’d told me you were headed there. I drove through Oceanside on my way here.”

Luna winced. “Sorry. I didn’t realize you were coming to our place first.”

“Grammy and Grandpa said they wouldn’t be home until six, so I can’t go there yet.”

“Oh, that’s right! They had a meeting with someone.”

“Luna, tell him the news,” Oliver prompted.

“News?” Zoro asked.

“We’re getting married in March,” Luna smiled.

“Wow! That’s coming up quickly!”

She nodded. “We would’ve done it sooner, but planning a wedding in a month isn’t really something you can do.”

“You’re one to talk,” Kohen laughed. He glanced at Zoro. “She wanted to have it before the baby is born. I said no, because there’s no way we can get all our family into town in less than a month!”

“He had a good point when he said it would be much easier to find a wedding dress without a pregnancy belly,” Luna laughed. “Do you think you could come, Zoro? We’re having it on the sixteenth.”

“I’m flying out the next week, so I don’t see why I couldn’t come a bit early.”

“Flying out?”

He nodded. “I’m staying with Jupiter for Christmas, so I told Mama and Appa I’d come home for Mama’s birthday. I’ll be missing Jupiter’s birthday, though….”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Her birthday is two days after my mom’s. Or three, if you count the time zone difference.”

“I can’t believe you’re missing your girlfriend’s birthday for your mom!”

“Are you kidding me?” he asked. “You’d skip your mom’s birthday if Kohen’s birthday was around the same time?”

Luna pressed her lips together. “Why can’t you just take Jupiter with you?”

“She has work, and all her siblings would miss school. Besides, flying with nine little kids would be a disaster.”

She sighed. “I’m glad I’m not you.”

He chuckled ruefully. “You should be glad for more than one reason.”

“Don’t look at me like you’d prefer to be me! Try getting pregnant twice while you’re single.”

“I don’t think I can try that.”

She tossed a towel at his head. “You know what I mean!”

◇◆◇◆◇

Zoro found himself sitting at his grandma’s island that evening after an exhausting afternoon of chasing Oliver around Carlsbad. Luna couldn’t keep an eye on him, and Kohen insisted on staying with his fiancée.

“Ollie wore you out today?” Grammy asked with a laugh.

Zoro nodded. “I didn’t know what I was signing up for when I agreed to go with them. We walked two miles just to get ice cream! And then we had to walk back!”

“What? Is four miles too much for you?”

“Not really, but it was too much for Ollie. I had to carry him halfway back. That was too much for me.” He laid across the chairs at her island. “I never would’ve imagined doing this in November.”

“Are you going to Korea for Christmas?”

“No. Jupiter’s the main caretaker for her siblings now, and I’m not about to take nine kids to Korea with me.”

“Good choice. We never used to go on flights when your mom and aunts and uncles were younger.”

“Uncle Ryan was probably the main problem there.”

“You’d be surprised. It was Sophie.”

“Really?” Zoro asked, pushing himself up so he could make proper eye contact with his grandma.

She laughed and nodded. “When we moved out here, we took a plane. Sophie was five, and she screamed for half the plane ride. We didn’t go on another plane until she was thirteen, and the only reason for it was because your mom’s roommate was throwing her a birthday party.”

“Aunt Indigo?”

“Yep,” Grammy nodded.

Zoro laid himself back down on the chairs and sighed. “Well, anyway, I’m spending the holidays with Jupiter and her siblings. We’ve already decided to not go down to Florida. That’s where her aunt and her mom’s cousins live, apparently. I am honestly not ready to see her aunt again, and I don’t really think she is either.”

Grammy hummed to let Zoro know she was listening.

“It feels stupid that I can’t face her, you know? That was ten years ago, and she’s a heck of a lot smaller than me now. She’s not even in New York, and I can barely bring myself to be there even for Jupiter. The airport is still terrifying, but I’d never tell her that. I think she figured it out, though.”

“Maybe you need to see her to put your fears to rest,” Grammy suggested.

“I’ve thought about that. It’s just….”

“So scary you feel paralyzed?”

He sighed. “Yeah.”

“That’s how trauma is. And it seems that nothing you’ve tried so far has let you fully let go of that. You haven’t seen her since you were nine, so to you, you’re still tiny and helpless compared to her. I think that now, seeing what little power she has over you would really help.”

“It would. I just don’t know what I’m afraid of, really. I can’t figure out if it’s her or the airport or just anyone having the potential to do that to me again.”

“It might be all of those things together, Zor.”

“Yeah. I don’t know what to do about it, though.”

“I think that when you’re ready, you need to face Jupiter’s aunt with Jupiter. I can’t tell you that it’ll fix the problem fully, but I think it will help.”

“I’ll think about it. Thanks, Grammy.”

◇◆◇◆◇

December seemed to roll around in the blink of an eye, and Jupiter was giddy as she anticipated her boyfriend’s return. Her mother and the baby had been home for almost two months already, and getting guardianship had been significantly easier than she’d expected. Almost everything seemed right in the world again. Except, there was a small part of her that missed her dad. She wasn’t sure why she missed him. He’d never been around, and even when he had been, he hadn’t paid much attention to her at all. They hadn’t had a good relationship in years.

On the other hand, she remembered the father that he’d used to be. She didn’t remember much, but before Venus was born, Jupiter’s father had given her all the attention that her mother neglected to give her. He’d been harsh in the workplace, but there was the occasion that he’d take her out for ice cream and treat her like a normal little kid. They’d chat about life, or he’d tell her how well she’d done in her training that day.

Nothing like that had happened in the past eleven years, but Jupiter still missed the man her father had once been, even if that once was only for a few minutes each month.

Regardless, Jupiter went on with life as if nothing had happened. She had a company to run and siblings to take care of. Not to mention Zoro would be staying with them for a few weeks before his apartment would be ready, so she needed to get ready for him. That probably only entailed finally taking those glow-in-the-dark stars off her ceiling. Zoro had seen her house is various levels of disarray before and had never commented on it.

Jupiter was halfway to being disappointed that Zoro wasn’t moving in with them, but there really was no space for him. He’d been sleeping in her bedroom for the whole summer while she’d taken her parents’ bedroom, and now that her mom was back, they couldn’t do that.

Another odd thing was that her mom had been acting almost normal for the past couple months. She actually paid attention to more than just the baby, and she’d even helped cook dinner a few times. It was overall a very odd experience to see her mom acting more like a mom than just a nanny for the baby. She was definitely still partially absent, though.

◇◆◇◆◇

Zoro was jittery as he packed his apartment up on the last week of school. Truthfully, he could’ve stayed for a few weeks longer, but he knew Jupiter needed him, and spending Christmas alone seemed like an awfully depressing thing to do when he was already not going to see his family for the first time on the holiday.

As he made one last check of the apartment to make sure he’d taken absolutely everything, he frowned. He’d spent over a year in this dinky apartment, and he was sad to leave it behind. So many memories had been made in these rooms, and now he’d be leaving this place for good. He and Jupiter had studied here many times and had little dates together, she’d surprised him for his birthday, they’d practiced their instruments together, and so many other little things that he would never forget. He supposed the important thing was that he still had the girl. The apartment could go.

He stacked his many suitcases into his trunk along with a few boxes full of valuables. If he thought flying here last summer had been ridiculous, he was about to spend four days on the road just to drive to New York. He had too many things to fly to New York, and he wanted to keep his car.

He walked around his apartment one last time to bid it goodbye before turning his keys in. The good thing was that he didn’t have people to say goodbye to as well. He’d never really talked to any of his neighbors.

He had one last lunch with Peyton before leaving.

“Man, I can’t believe you’re moving to New York right after I moved away from there!”

Zoro laughed. “At least one of your parents will be living in New Jersey, right? You can visit me while you’re up there.”

“Yeah, but who knows when they’ll sort that out,” he rolled his eyes. “Both of them will probably live up there after everything’s said and done, but they’re still fighting over it! I want to tell them to just sell the house, split the money, and buy two smaller houses! They wouldn’t listen to me if I did, though.”

“Well, if you ever want to come visit, just let me know. I’ll have a couch in my apartment you can crash on if you’d like.”

“Awesome! I don’t know how I’d get the money for plane tickets, though.”

Zoro nodded.

“Are you really driving all the way across the country this week?”

“Yep. I’ve got a friend I’m going to see on my way to New York. I haven’t seen him in years.”

“That’s cool!”

Zoro and Peyton parted ways after lunch, and Zoro began his long trip to New York. Maybe by the time he got there, he’d be mentally prepared to see the city again. At least this time he didn’t have to enter it via the airport.

—————

Chapter 20 →

This is part of the Dad!BTS series that can be found here

Series M.list

A/N: haha. Back to multiple updates in a row! Isn’t that lovely?

It would be greatly appreciated if you reblogged the story if you liked it!

Taglist: @jiminie-and-his-pinky-finger @jinnie-forthe-winnie

#softbobamilktae original stories

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