#and utterly known to listen to the same 5 songs over and over for months on end anyway so im happy

[akaanonymouth]

Tagged by the beautiful @asfarascruithne :)

RULES: we are snooping on your playlist. Set your entire music library on shuffle and report the first 10 songs that pop up. Then tag 10 people to do the same.

1. Sound of Silence - Disturbed

2. Mr Rock and Roll - Amy McDonald

3. Hey Brother - Avicii

4. Pompeii - Bastille

5. Its all coming back to me now - Celine Dion

6. Heavy Cross - Gossip

7. Wake Me Up - Avicii

8. Work Song - Hozier

9. Skin - Rag n Bone Man

10. Cherry Wine - Hozier

Most people have probably been tagged by now so, go ahead if ye want :)

[kitkat1003]

Tower Tales

4: Turns out, they can get sick of each other

AO3 Link

@asilcorner YEET

Time passes and it’s maddening.  Yakko keeps a calendar, but there’s no point in trying to know how long they’ve been trapped in here when they can’t even tell if they’re sleeping at night or day.  They don’t know how long an hour is, a minute, month, a week, a day.  Not by heart.  So, for a while, they have to guess.

Yakko eventually makes a clock, sets a time, makes their day as normal as he can, starting the hour at a random time and suddenly dinnertime is 5:30pm instead of just sometime before bed, even though they can’t tell if it’s even close to 5:30pm outside.  It doesn’t matter if it turns out they aren’t following the sun, the sun has never followed them, so fair’s fair.  Besides, why stick with the world’s set of rules when those rules act like this is fine, that them being trapped is fine?

And hey, what’s a little madness?  Who cares, right?

The tower becomes a lived-in space.  The first two floors become living room areas, bedrooms, kitchen, bathroom.  They never can be certain on the decor, and it changes daily, weekly, hourly, but that’s fine, because the idea of everything repeating, like the days have no difference between them makes Yakko want to curl into a ball and never straighten out.

The third floor is left mostly barren, because that’s where they practice their toon powers.  Wakko has a penchant for bombs and offensive weapons, Yakko finds he can pull a pen out of anywhere and anything, and Dot has an affinity for her mallet, as well as fashion.

She likes to tailor, on occasion, and bribes Wakko to be her model for it by letting him perform songs via burping after dinner—she doesn’t mind the sound, it’s really the smell that makes her hate the whole thing—and Yakko starts being able to pull out random books from his hammerspace.  They’re typically books he likes, thank god, but sometimes they’re just confusing.  He likes Dr. Dolittle, though it is a bit silly, and the idea of talking animals being strange doesn’t make sense to him, being animal-like himself, but at the least it’s an interesting series with many books to go through.  He likes Winnie the Pooh, too, and the Velveteen Rabbit is surprisingly sad, but at least it’s a change of pace in comparison to the happier children’s books he reads.

He ventures to more adult focused books, like The Great Gatsby, which is depressing but also an interesting commentary of the time, and the Murder of Roger Ackroyd by Agatha Christie.  He actually reads through that one a couple times, to go back and find the clues Miss Christie left for the reader, and he finds it utterly fascinating.  Who knew that someone could write like that?  Leaving little pieces that only come together to make something when the last piece is found.  It’s like a blank puzzle that turns on when you finish it.

Dot likes to read with him, pulling out a magazine about the daily fashion news or parties.  He doesn’t know what Playboy is, but the moment it appears in her hands he rips it away and throws it in the fire.  She evidently sees enough just from the cover, because she doesn’t argue.

He occasionally reads to Wakko and Dot.  Typically before bed—he regrets ever reading the Velveteen Rabbit to them, because Wakko didn’t sleep for a few days after.   He tries to get Wakko to read with him, but Wakko seems to find learning anything in a standardized way quite difficult, and all it took was one semi pointed comment from Dot about it to keep the boy from even trying, shame painting his cheeks the red of their nose.  Yakko considers talking to Dot about it, but he doesn’t want to further embarrass Wakko by bringing it up, and it’s hard to be secretive in a small space.

So he lets it go, because they have plenty of time—too much, too much to ever fill, and sometimes all they can do is sit and hope for it to move faster because boredom makes them dull and he hears Dot cry into her pillow some nights because she’s not as quiet as she thinks she is and he sleeps so lightly he can barely call it rest—and continues to play and have fun and learn new things.  He gets an atlas, one day, and memorizes the names of all the countries, hums out a melody, learns rhyme schemes.

And when he starts up a tune, they all fall in line.  That’s the thing—while he and Dot learn the normal way, Wakko seems to be able to do just about anything when he stays out of his own head.  Which is odd, because Wakko doesn’t talk too much, so he must be in his head plenty.  Perhaps, then, the line between thinking and doing is so wide that when he tries to both everything gets jumbled.  Because when they burst into song, Wakko dances and prances and creates lyrics like a pro, whether they’re singing about nothing at all to complex philosophical concepts, with a plethora of large words that if Wakko tried to read he would trip and stumble as they were slanted stairs.  Occasionally, Yakko will ask if Wakko even knows what they’re singing about, only ever curious, and Wakko can talk his ear off about it all.  Yet, when Yakko brings him into a classroom setting, Wakko’s face goes blank, and no comprehension of anything Yakko says ever shows.

Clearly he has a grasp on the English language, clearly he’s smart—Yakko could never think his brother stupid, because no stupid person could build a second floor without any plans, could follow jokes and make his own quips on occasion that send him and Dot into laughing fits, could pick the perfect moment for a physical joke in the middle of a conversation; no way that Wakko is anything close to stupid—but the moment it’s a classroom type setting all of that goes out the window.  Is it the motivation?  Is it the material?  Is it him?

Yakko has to figure this out, but at least he doesn’t have to figure it out soon.  He has time.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

They aren’t perfect, despite the look of them, despite how they’re drawn to be.  They can’t be expected, forced together 24/7, to not get into petty squabbles.  And they are petty.  Dot hates sharing the bathroom with ‘gross boys,’ hates it when they play during dinner, Yakko hates it when they’re making too much noise during his reading times, when they complain too much, Wakko grumps about when they eat something he was supposedly saving, or throw something away he thinks he could eat (a.e. a banana peel, a watermelon rind, moldy bread, etc), or when they talk too softly or too fast, as if they don’t want him to be able to listen.  It’s never anything too bad, and they get over it within the next few hours, but sometimes it builds.

For instance, Wakko is going stir crazy.

Dot and Yakko can tell.  They don’t mind sitting still on occasion, given the right persuasion, but Wakko is a mile a minute of movement, everything twitching and tapping, tail swishing back and forth and wagging when he’s excited.

There’s only so many times one can run around a small space before they get bored.  Only so many months one can spend exploring and doing the same things with little variation 

“Ugh, there’s nothing to dooooooo,” Wakko whines, flopping onto the armrest of Dot’s chair.  She and Yakko are reading the same book, they’re going to discuss it when they’re done.  It’s a fun blend of their skills and likes-talking about reading.

“There’s plenty of things to do!  Why don’t you read a book with us?” Dot suggests, and maybe it’s a little mean, but it’s more out of ignorance than cruelty.  It’s been what feels like a few months since she saw Wakko struggle, how could she have known that he’d written off reading entirely.

“You could read to me,” Wakko actually perks up at his own suggestion, like a lightswitch flipping on.  Yakko doesn’t mind it at all, and is about to volunteer when Dot raises a brow.

“Can’t you read yourself?” She shoots back, and Wakko deflates, before he crosses his arms, on the defensive.

“I don’t need to,” He says, and Doll rolls her eyes.

“If that was true, you wouldn’t want someone to read to you,” Like usual, her words are sharper than his, but she makes one mistake.  “You can’t just refuse to learn forever.  What are you going to do when you get into the real world?”

Dot is trying to hope.  She trusts that, someday, they’ll escape.  Doesn’t matter how long it takes, they’ll still escape, because she trusts their family, and she trusts their growing abilities.

But Wakko...well, he isn’t quite so positive, at the moment.

“We’re never going to the real world!” He shouts.  “I know what forever means, I’m not that dumb, and that’s how long they’re keeping us here,” Dot is taken aback, but Wakko is a roll, frustrated and ashamed and angry, and Yakko is cut off by his next spitting sentence.  “And the worst part of it is that I’m stuck here with a stuck-up jerk like you!”

“Wakko Warner!” Yakko stands, and he doesn’t typically raise his voice like this, not angry, but that was uncalled for, and Wakko—

Wakko flinches.

Yakko falters, Dot’s eyes are already teary, and Wakko dashes off, vanishes up to the second floor before anyone can stop him.

Yakko attends to the sibling that is close by, because Dot is upset and angry and hurt, so he soothes her tears.

“Why would he say that?” She asks, confused.  “Did he mean it?”

“Of course not—he’s just not handling this as well as you are.  You picked reading up way faster than he did.  He’s been struggling with it, and with all...this,” he gestures to the tower.  Dot sniffles.  “You do have a habit of saying things that make you sound high and mighty, your majesty,” He adds, with a grin, and Dot giggles a little, wiping her eyes.

“Sorry,” She says, and he shrugs.

“Not me who needs an apology, sis, but I appreciate it anyway.  Let’s give Wakko some time to calm down, kay?” He picks her up and smiles.  “I don’t know what chapter you got to, but I have some thoughts on the 5th one.”

She grins back at him.

One down, one to go.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

They find Wakko curled up in a ball on the couch upstairs, face hidden from the world and back facing the outside.  Dot comes over quietly, soft steps toward the tense coiled spring that is her brother.

“Didn’t mean it,” He sounds very...defeated.  “I’m sorry, Dot,” He sniffles, and she still can’t see his face.

“It’s okay,” she responds, because staying mad never helped anyone anyway.  “I shouldn’t have been so mean about it.  I’m sorry.  I didn’t know it was so hard.”

“It is,” Wakko finally turns to face her, and his face is stained with tears.  “I can’t get it to make sense in my head—and you got it easy.  Maybe I am stupid,” He turns to face her, sitting up and curling his knees to his chest, and the last phrase is muffled by his knees.

“You’re not!  You’re better at building things than I could ever be!  Words can be hard, though.  It took me a bit to get it.” 

He looks over at her, shyly, as if searching her face for any sign of a joke.  She remains resolute, and sincere. “Really?” 

“Yeah!  Hey, maybe I could try and teach you.  Yakko’s a real lazy teacher,” She jokes, and Yakko takes that as his cue to walk over.

“I take offense to that,” He responds without heat, before looking over to Wakko, who shrinks under his gaze.  The action makes Yakko want to disappear—how could he make his own brother scared of him?

“Sorry for scaring you, Wakko,” He tells him, hoping Wakko accepts the apology.  

“It wasn’t you-it was just,” Wakko is quick to reassure Yakko that he wasn’t scared of him, because he wasn’t, and knows that Yakko would never act in a way that should make Wakko afraid of him, he just was scared because “You’re tall,” He finally finds the words, and Yakko blinks.  “The execs who didn’t like us, they were tall, and they shouted a lot, and I was thinking about when we were out and I was already upset and it just happened, but you’re not scary,” He gives Yakko a shaky grin.  “How could someone even be scared of you?”

“Hey,” Yakko takes mock offense, but a weight lifts off of his shoulders.

He shuffles over, and takes the hat off of Wakko’s head to ruffle his hair.  Wakko reaches for it with sweater paws, standing on the couch to grab his hat back, and the tense air starts to dissipate.

Wakko yawns.

“I’m tired,” he mumbles, rubbing at his eyes.  Yakko settles down on the couch, between him and Dot, and lifts Wakko into his lap.

“Guess it’s naptime, then,” He leans back, hands behind his head.  “Dot?”

She’s already curling up against him.

Eventually, Yakko manages to get horizontal, Wakko and Dot curled up together on top of him. Slowly, he lets out a sigh of relief and sleeps.

The next day, he finds Dot and Wakko at a new dining room table, both hunched over a piece of paper.  Wakko looks very confused, and a little frustrated, but Dot goes over the same letter sounds over and over as if it were the first time, and that type of relentless explanation manages to get through the mental blocks Wakko sometimes has.

“So, the ‘c’ makes a cuh sound, ‘a’ makes an aay sound, so what’s that word?” She points.

“Ca-Catch?” Wakko tries, and Dot cheers, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

“You did it!” She says, and Wakko brightens like the sun.

“Faboo!” He responds, and the exclamation is so startling that Dot starts laughing.  Wakko joins in, and Yakko is chuckling to himself all the way to the kitchen.

Within two months, Wakko joins their book club.  They make matching t-shirts.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Yakko loves his sibs, he really does.  They’re basically the only reason he stuck around for so long. They need him.

But sometimes, he doesn’t want them.

Little siblings bicker and it gets real grating.  He just wants one day, one, where he doesn’t have to deal with a stupid argument!  Is that so much to ask

He feels like he never gets this petty over the small stuff.  Aren’t there more pressing things to be upset about?  He doesn’t expect his siblings to be friendly to each other all the time, but would it kill them to resolve their own issues?  Especially when they’re as small as whose mallet is whose(they’re identical) or where a furniture piece should go(when it’s going to be moved within a week anyway, because they’re always changing the format of the tower).  If Wakko’s hat is better than Dot’s flower.  How the kitchen silverware should be organized, even.  Yakko can’t see why it matters

He can’t even get peace now, trying to get through the book they’re in the middle of in their book club.  Wakko and Dot had sped ahead one day when Yakko was making dinner, and now he’s trying to catch up, but he can’t because they’re having another shouting match.  They’re hunched over a fashion magazine, trying to figure out what?  What dress looks cuter?  Wakko, apparently, picked the wrong one, and now Dot is upset, and now he’s upset because she’s upset at him, and it’s just so much.

Eventually he snaps.

“Alright, that’s it!” He shouts, and Wakko and Dot look up from their squabble-about what dress looks cuter, off all things. “I’m going upstairs, and you two deal with each other for a few hours, because I can’t.” He runs a hand down his face and sighs, grabbing his book and disappearing to the second floor, not even bothering to see their reaction.

And you see, you’d think he’d like the peace and quiet, but two hours in and his ears keep twitching, aching for the sound of silly conversation and laughter and pattering feet.  Sure, they’re annoying, and they squabble over silly things, but Yakko is paranoid at heart because the background sounds of them messing around is somehow relaxing, because then at least he knows that they’re there, that they’re safe.  Silence is uncertainty, silence means he’s alone, and he keeps subconsciously searching for their noise, to know that they are, and in turn he is, safe and there.  He thinks he might be a little too used to them, because without the ambient noise he can’t focus.  

Four hours later, and he comes back down, and is greeted to an armful of new books he definitely didn't make, and they don’t look published.  They look more like...picture books?

“We made them for you!” Dot says.

“I did the pictures, and Dot wrote the stories,” Wakko adds.

Yakko’s heart is so full it feels like his ribs are cracking.

“What a couple of authors you are!” he laughs, and they follow him all the way back to his chair.  He sets the books in a stack on his lap, picking up the first one and opening his mouth to read aloud as Dot and Wakko sit on the armrests of the couch, eagerly awaiting his narration and reaction.

Yakko thinks he got pretty lucky with his sibs, even with their petty arguments, smiling down at the pages and reading the books through.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Dot loves her brothers.  She does.

But they’re gross.

Well, not gross, but certainly not clean.  They make messes and forget to clean them up.  And it’s not that bad, Dot doesn’t mind cleaning.  Wakko builds them things, Yakko takes care of the meals, cleaning is just part of her chores in this whole situation.

It reaches a limit, and she hits it when she watches Yakko spill marinara sauce all over the ground and then do nothing about it.  Wakko slips in it and the two just laugh it off, but the sauce splatters everywhere, and she has to clean that, and—

“Ugh!” She stomps her foot in frustration, and Yakko and Wakko turn to her, confused.  “You two are disgusting!  I have to clean this all up later, and-ugh!” She turns on her heel and heads upstairs.  She slams the hatch door to the second floor shut, and Wakko and Yakko wince at the sound.

“Is the second floor specifically for upset people now, or is it just a really lazy plot device?” Yakko snarks, and Wakko blinks.

“Should we clean this up?”

“Yeah, probably.”

She comes down an hour later, because she skipped dinner and though she doesn’t have a food issue she’s used to eating with her siblings, and she walks into a sparkling clean kitchen.

“This is a once a year affair,” Yakko says, as she stands there shocked.  “Maybe thrice if you pay us.”

“I ate a bar of soap,” Wakko says, and bubbles come out of his mouth.

“You two are ridiculous,” Dot says, and she can’t help the grin on her face.

She hugs them till she hears something crack.  Probably Yakko’s back, with how tense her eldest brother is.

It’s halfway to filthy by the end of the week, but she can tell they’re trying, and that’s enough.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

So yeah, they get sick of each other.  They have petty and not so petty squabbles, but no matter what they end up in the same place.

Curled up near each other, blankets pulled close so that the edges of the bed are barren.  Yakko always talks in sleep, Wakko drools and kicks, Dot will shift from time to time and grab at air, or anything in grasping range, but they won’t wake up, because despite those annoyances, together they feel safe.

And that’s what family is for, isn’t it?

[a-cai-jpg]

I feel like this is to assure myself and no one else.

It has recently come to my attention that real people actually read this blog. 

That sounds a little stupid, given that I religiously advertise it on both Snapchat and Instagram, but there was a part of me that assumed it would fly over the heads of most (see: all) people. And it's inherently contradictory, but I did not think a Real Person would take time out of their lives to read my utterly irrelevant musings.

I am terribly grateful to my friends and then some for deeming me important enough to click into this site. I am thankful for their validation when they don't just do it silently, lurking amidst the sans serif. One quoted my own words back at me in ALL CAPS, another sent me a video zooming in on my disgruntled face on the sidebar, and more mention it casually in passing conversation, jolting me into the reality that yes, this is A Thing.

But as I laid in bed and typed up the post two days ago, I'm suddenly reminded of why I rarely made my writing public.

I sound like an ungrateful little shit, and I'm truly happy whenever someone mentions The Thing (i just don't like the word blog), and I want to share The Thing with the world because it's a little scary thinking about how all your time and effort and words and emotion could be lost somewhere in the void, like an unread letter that's wandered off the post-trail, but.

Writing digs into the most vulnerable flesh of your heart and mind. I recently saw a quote, "We are writers, my love. We don't cry, We bleed on paper." And there are variations of this quote from others: "I don't think all writers are sad. I think it's the other way around: all sad people write;" "I didn't write it down to build a poem. I wrote it down because that is what I do with the things that unravel me. I drag them across a page."

I don't mean for this to take a maudlin turn, but writing is a salve for aches in the soul. I'm by no means a writer, but I like to think I write (s/o to my soulmate, jackson wang, who said, "i'm not a rapper...i just rap). And sometimes, sharing what I've "dragged across the page" is turning my skin inside out.

I'm definitely more comfortable with sharing my vulnerability through words on a sheet of paper (or words on a WordPad document) than through words spoken to another Real Person. 

In my junior year of high school, I sat in a hotel room in Sacramento with words stuck behind my clenched teeth. It was the most peculiar feeling, like if I loosened my jaw, I would vomit the words from my chest and they would tumble off the bedsheets and onto the floor, staining the hotel carpet. But the tension never snapped, and I scrawled them onto a torn sheet of paper instead.

Even now, I express the deepest parts of my emotions through letters. I think a large part of it is because I don't want to see the emotions unfold on someone's face. It's not that I don't want to see them, but I don't think I--this emotionally constipated individual--am capable of responding to them in a way that's not, "Uh. Yeah. Okay. Lol bye." And I feel like that's just not appropriate or sufficient in some circumstances. Better to just avoid the potentially awkward situation.

(yes this is not the most mature way to deal with emotions but spare me the lecture.)

And so, when I am writing, and not saying words at someone's face, I pull out the most intimate intricacies of my heart and twist them into phrases and sentences. And I like to do it without a filter.

But when I was writing these past few days, I was conscious of an audience. I began crafting sentences through the lens of what would this specific person think of this and oh my god what if this person reads this and fuck it ok just kidding we can't just fuck it sos. It was a dangerous balance between editing and re-editing and declaring, "Fuck the world, I write for me, and I'm going to write recklessly and with abandon."

This the main crux of the problem: there is me, the person that you know and talk to and maybe have grown up with, and then there is me, the person who spits words out onto The Thing. And sometimes the two me's mesh perfectly like a pattern overlaid on another to produce an image, and sometimes they don't. 

It's kind of like when you go clubbing with a childhood friend for the first time, and you've only known them as the youth group-going, favorite child of all Asian parents, and then y'all are in the club and damn okay they just took seven shots in a row. 

(I'm not speaking from personal experience.)

There is a moment of reckoning when you try to reconcile two facets of a person.

(Or maybe this is a me problem, but bear with me here.)

A few months ago, I took a trip with two of my closest friends to San Diego, to visit the college town where one of them spent four incredibly formative years. It was fun and beautiful and very, very disorienting, because in my egocentric point of view, I had forgotten that we lived these four years separately. Suddenly, he was introducing to me a different life, a different history that I wasn't part of, and I couldn't help but feel like I was sitting in the passenger seat of a stranger's car, listening to a crude imitation of a familiar playlist.

The feeling began somewhere on the 5 freeway, when he navigated the unfamiliar lanes with a practiced ease, and swelled as the sun set and he told stories about Mount Soledad and him and his friends.

And it was weird, because I felt like an intruder, even though I had been invited into his memories, and the unease took shape as silence and stilted words until he asked, "Are you okay? You seem weird." And the feeling was spilling onto the back of my hands as I gripped the skirt of my dress, but I couldn't beat it into words, so I unclenched my fists and fastened my seatbelt and choked out a, "Nah, I'm just tired."

I think I'm still in the process of working through this reckoning. It doesn't happen for all of my friends, and it's not always so discomforting. Sometimes, I scroll through Instagram pages with a sort of curious hunger to fill the years I’ve missed, and other times, I take the new information, file it as: Yeah okay, I could've predicted that. But then, there are the times where I can only search someone's face in silence, lump in my throat as I rewind our histories and try to find where one of them snagged and became out of sync.

The different facets of the self should, all in all, unveil the most authentic self. The more you get to know a person, the more you really know a person. I imagine it like you're building a three-dimensional sculpture, and with each new piece of information, you add another bit of plaster to it. Yet, I sometimes lose sight of what I'm trying to build, and when I see the blueprint again, I realize I've veered wildly off course. It's scary, every time I run into a moment like this, because it's like the person I knew, the friend I've had for a decade, was actually just someone I created in my mind, a person who overlapped at the edges with the Real Person, but ultimately, were not the same. And when the illusion disappears, I'm left with a stranger.

I'm exaggerating, but.

I'm a little scared this is what you will feel as you read this. I'm scared there will be no separation between the writer and the writing, and although writing reveals the deepest, most intimate parts of a person, is it really the authentic self? It's only a slice, a slice I had cut with carefully chosen words.

So I want to assure you, if you are someone like me who thinks they view the world on a wide-angle lens but really, only through a slit, and you are someone like me who reels when the cover is yanked away and you're left staggering through the new vista, that every sentence is a part of me, but who you know and who you talk to and who you message is a larger piece of me. And maybe we will never get to know each other fully, because that kind of privilege is saved for but a few, that doesn't make either of us any less authentic.

I sometimes wonder what character development looks like in the real world. When I was a sophomore in high school, I cringed so hard when my favorite English teacher tried to use my essay as an example in class that he almost immediately pulled it out from underneath the Elmo projector and used someone else's. In freshman year of college, I wanted to join a creative writing club, but after realizing that I wouldn't be able to submit my work for peer-editing anonymously, I banished that notion. Yet, for some reason, in my senior year, I decided I wanted to take a fiction writing course. On the day of my first workshop, my hands shook so much that I had to sit on them to stop trembling.

In the beginning of the class, I, myself, had a very difficult time separating the writing from the writer. I think especially in an intro class, students use facets of their own life to create fiction. I think even advanced writers do the same, because ultimately everything you write is you. And I did my fair share of speculation--why did she write about a sibling rivalry does she have a sister, hey did this guy study abroad in hong kong with you because he wrote about that, and huh i wonder if she grew up in florida this is beautiful.

It's the kind of speculation we do with the Greats. Did Shakespeare write Hamlet for his son, Hamnet? Who was Sonnet 18 written for? Was Shakespeare gay? Because see, in this one bit, he wrote.....

(i was a very bored AP lit student ok)

It's the same kind of speculation my friend did when she finished listening to a new song by Crush and said, "Oh, he must be dating." Or the speculation all the YouTube comments had when Jon Cozart and Dodie Clark released duo songs titled "Tourist: A Love Song from Paris" and "a non love song from nashville." It's the kind of speculation you do when you are given a slice of someone's soul, and suddenly, you want to understand the whole thing.

But that kind of scrutiny is uncomfortable. We're okay with doing it to Shakespeare, because the dude's dead. We're okay with doing it to big name artists because hello, Crush is not going to hear my friend talking about him. We're less okay with doing it in the public realm of YouTube comments because they are read by the content creators who explicitly said, "pls don't speculate." We are even less okay with doing it to our peers, and we are not okay with other people doing it to us. Okay, maybe I should just speak for myself.

My trajectory in that fiction writing class was backward. My first story was about a white male living in New Jersey. My last story was about a Chinese American woman who used to live in the suburbs of Los Angeles.

It wasn't planned.

It's as if my subconsciousness drew up barriers the minute I stepped into that classroom, and wrote a story as far removed from who I am as possible. 

Because really, who is going to think that the gas jockey with a hunger for divine power is me?

(sike.)

But I guess character development is becoming okay with vulnerability and with potential speculation, and as I wrote, I began writing closer and closer to the heart, pulling the words from the east coast to the west.

When the last workshop rolled around, I was calm, sitting at one of those awful, plasticky chairs with tiny, useless desks attached to one arm. I was neither defensive nor uncomfortable, like I thought I would be, just at peace and humbled as I listened to my classmates discuss the craft of my writing.

And I think that's the ultimate lesson: once you write something, or create something, and release out into the wild, it no longer belongs to you. It's an argument I used to make in my art history class, but it's an argument that John Green often makes when his readers ask him about the meaning behind his books.

I don't quite mean it like he does, when he says, "Books belong to their readers." I think that before the writing is consumed by the reader, it is its own entity, existing independently of both writers and readers. And when it is eventually taken up by the reader, the writer shouldn't feel a sense of possessiveness or vulnerability or fear about the content.

And shit, that really fucks up my other thing about trees falling in forests but anyways.

There are a load of other things I have to consider when suddenly, the dumb spools of thoughts in my brain become free content for the Internet. Like, privacy rights? Am I allowed to talk about this one thing my unnamed friend said, but wait, you can definitely tell who it is, oh fuuuuuu-. At what point is it oversharing? Do I get to decide the line between okay and TMI, or does me declaring that I am writing this for myself mean there is no line?

But, in the end, I just want to say thank you.

I’m really used to, as I’m sure many people are, presenting just one facet of my whole self to people. Every individual has a number of different roles, and each role comes with its own set of rules and norms. The sociological part of me says that this discomfort I’m feeling has a lot to do with the breaking down of norms. There is a certain playbook people go by when they lower their barriers, but this circumvents that.

And honestly, maybe I’m just thinking too much into it and all of this is for naught, but it was cathartic writing this all out, even if I had to take two very lengthy breaks to get my thoughts in order.

(just kidding, one of them was to watch Kingdom season 1).

There are so many things I am grateful for, and I fear that in the past week, I have been battling bad vibes and have forgotten how incredibly privileged I am.

So, here is List 16 of The 52 List Project (that my friend made me start legit in 2016 and I'm still on list 17)

List 16: List your Essentials 1. Family & Friends ✔ 2. Affirmation & Love ✔ 3. Achievement ✔ 4. Happiness ✔ 5. Hope & Dreams ✔ 6. Phone ✔ 7. ID/Card holder ✔ 8. Plush blankets ✔ 9. Stuffed animals ✔ (so many!) 10. Inspiration from a boy on skates ✔ (see: hope & legacy) 11. Good music ✔ (i gotchu fam, here's ur r&b fix) 12. Good books ✔ (go check out a book)  13. Good conversations ✔ 14. Thoughts ✔ 15. Creativity ✔ 16. Music ✔ 17. Possibilities ✔

[leoninapelliolovesconchitawurst]

ENGLISH TRANSLATION ( Jeannette Nobbe)

VOLSKRANT.NL 31/01/20

by Mennon Pot

https://www.volkskrant.nl/cultuur-media/conchita-wurst-sorry-dat-ik-zo-n-wandelend-cliche-ben~b0477817/

(Conchita) Wurst: 'I'm sorry I'm a walking cliché'.

Above all we know Conchita Wurst as the bearded 'female 'singer who won the ESC in 2014. But we've moved on and are a bit wiser. It´s just Wurst now, but the beard is still there.

With light feathered steps, Thomas Neuwirth (31) enters the conference room of the hotel in Groningen where he is staying: black combat boots, black leather pants, tight black T-shirt, the black beard and the perfect short trimmed jet black hair..

He introduces himself as Tom. It's not difficult to recognise the bearded drag queen Conchita in him. (Kopenhagen, 2014, remember?) but the dress and wig are stowed away for a while. Conchita has a sort of sabbatical, so to speak.

Neuwirth is on tour as a man. Stage name: Wurst. Yesterday evening he performed in Groningen; the next concert will be 7 february at the Melkweg in Amsterdam. His new album 'Truth over Magnitude' also carries the artist´s name Wurst.

Let's get this straight: when the subject is Conchita Wurst, the word 'transgender' sometimes comes a long. Wrongly. Neuwirth is a man, ('but incredibly gay, of course'), who has a choice from now on: being on tour as a drag queen (Conchita) or as a man (Wurst) .

´a lot of fun, being a masculine stage persona', he says. Conchita will turn up again somewhere else.

Holland appreciated Conchita's 'Rise like a Phoenix' with the highest score, almost 6 years ago.

Neuwirth didn't forget: twelve points, douze points from Holland for the bearded diva from Austria.

Then hectic years followed. 'After the Song Contest I thought, I have to make the most of it now, build my fame and cash it in. So I surrounded myself with all kinds of experts, managers, stylists, make/up artists, the whole circus. After 3 years I was exhausted. I couldn´t do it anymore. I told my audience every nigh, be yourself, believe in yourself. But along the way, I forgot myself.´

He got rid of the experts’ circus and is having a relaxed tour now, with a small entourage. He feels good again, although in 2018 he had to announce he is infected with the HIV virus. His manager politely asks, almost in an humble manner, not to talk about that.

Tom doesn´t appear to be very worried about that. There has seldom been a star who starts an interview so cheerfully. ´A great photo shoot and after that talk about things I find beautiful and fun.

Terrific, I was already looking forward to it when I came out of bed.´

´Curriculum Vitae'

1988 – Born as Thomas Neuwirth in Gmunden, Austria

2007 – Candidate at the talentshow Starmania, and boyband Jetzt anders!

2011 – Debut as female persona Conchita Wurst, the debut single `I´ll be there´

2012 - Second place at the Austrian Songfestival

2014 – ESC winner with ´Rise like a Phoenix

2015 – First album ´Conchita´, co-presenter ESC

2018 – Second album ´From Vienna with Love´

2019 – Debut as male stage persona ´Wurst´, third album ´Truth over Magnitude´

2020 – Wurst ´Trust over Magnitude´ Sony Music

Wurst will be performing in the Melkweg in Amsterdam on February 7

SOUNDTRACK

Music from the Motion Picture Titanic ...1997

´My first CD. I was 9 years old when I bought it. `My heart will go on´’changed my life´. As it were, Céline Dion gave me permission to be utterly dramatic and to be over the top. When I came out of the closet, I heard that song in my head.

It was also a liberation for me as a singer. My mom always sang with a thin, high falsetto voice. I thought that was how it should be. Dion taught me, you may yell as hard as you can, with all the power you have in you. When you sing so loud, you can’t fake it. The sound you push out of your body, is the sound of your body, unique and by definition authentic. Céline Dion taught me that singing is something really physical.´

SERIES

The Crown ..Netflix..., 2016 until 2019

´For me it´s getting difficult to watch a movie to the end. I guess that´s because of all the series on Netflix and HBO. My favorite is `The Crown´.. ´the intro alone is so beautiful, that liquid gold that forms a crown, such art. I used to watch it twice. Ít says something about the fact that I can´t choose between the two women who play Elizabeth and the two men who play prince Philip. All the actors are great. The costumes, the stories, the palaces, it´s so delightful. The history also intrigues me, after every episode I checked on Wikipedia if it was really what had happened.

PARTIES

´At Christmas I always come back to Vienna. I love the lights, glitters and decorations, my inner Mariah Carey is looking forward to it every year. Christmas 2019 was extra special because it had been a long time since the whole family came together at my grandmother´s house.´

I would love it to be like that every year... A couple of days being together in one home. Talking, getting to really know my family. Maybe now you think, days on and on with uncles and aunts, such horror! It is easy to say that I don´t really have much in common with these people. But I do, Really. They all have a story and similarities with your stories. Ask them about your life and tell them about yours.´

That´s what Christmas is all about to me. To me, the birth of Jesus has not that much to do with it.´

ISLAND..

I have an agreement with my best friends to go on vacation at least once every two years. We have been to Mykonos a couple of times, THE especially gay island. I´m sorry I sound like a walking cliché.´

The sun, the sea, the beaches, the small streets, so cosy. We rent a house with a pool and for a week or two we live in our own little paradise, actually being a bit tipsy the whole time. Go shopping and cook.´

`What´s also very important, on Mykomos, the wind is always blowing the right way. I love to watch the women, because their dresses and their hair flutter so beautifully.´

STYLE ICON

Victoria Beckham

I was and still am a big Spice Girls fan and I especially admire Victoria Beckham, because she lives her life the way she wants. She appears in tabloids every day, but has survived a crisis in her relationship and has stayed happy with the love of her life and her family. I think that it´s really strong.´

In regard to her style, she can go from very classy to very trashy, I like that. One day she´s wearing a designer dress, the next she and David Beckham are walking in identical jogging suits. She couldn’t care less. I think that it´s inspiring.´

´I think she is utterly authentic, raging through the glamour. Although I have never met her, I´m sure that I could have a lot of fun with her. I´d love to drink some tequila with her for an afternoon or so.´

AGE

30

´I thought becoming 30 was really special, I lost my wild behaviour, came to be more restful. Some way or another I think a lot about some things my mother said: in my twenties, I ignored those lessons, but now I´m 30, I suddenly realised she was right for example how important family and friends are.

I´m 31 now, I have inner peace and my life in order, but I still feel young. I´m convinced that this the best period of my life´. My advise to everybody... be 30.´

ALBUM

Recomposed by Max Richter / The Four Seasons ..2012

I don´t play any instruments and until not too long ago, I didn´t really know much about music. I really found that a pity sometimes. Fortunately, my good friend Martin studies at the School of Musical Arts... !! He´s studying the history of music intensely and tells me about a lot of great composers. I learn a lot from that.´´I never understood classical music and didn´t really know anything about it, but thanks to the listening sessions with Martin I fell in love with Vivaldi..

The pop artist of the classical artists.

´Max Richter interpreted Vivaldi´s Four Seasons and composed it in a modern fashion. It´s a modern, post minimalistic piece, completely different from the original one, but you still recognise it. Greatly done, at the moment it´s my favorite album.´

BOOK

Friedrich Schiller « Ueber die aesthetische Erziehung des Menschen ». About the aesthetic upbringing of the people..´

´A good friend advised me to read the philosophical letters from Friedrich Schiller ..Letters, 1794-1795)

That´s a hard job to do. Because of the old fashioned German I had to read some sentences 5 times. You always have to wrestle yourself through a thick layer of 18th century sexism.

´But further on you´ll find something beautiful. Schiller writes a lot about finding your inner beauty and your own truth. Dare to be yourself. Embrace your darker sides. Those are important as well.´

´At the same time he preaches self-perspective.. don´t take yourself too seriously, you´re not the center of the universe. That is very worthy to me. Namely because I DO think I´m the center of the universe, haha.

`Still it´s very wise of him, to send a message from 1795 to a 21st century queen with a Mariah Carey complex.´

CLUB

Circus in Vienna

´The Arena is a huge complex in Vienna, a concert building with a mega discotheque. A couple of times a year they organize Circus, my favorite gay club night. I always go there with my group of closest friends, but it´s actually a bit of a rule that we lose each other and disappear into the crowd.´

´I roam around all night- Every room, every floor has its own musical theme and decoration. I love the types of people I meet there, their clothes, their fetishisms, everything.´

….Arena Vienna, Baumgasse 80, Vienna

CITY

Amsterdam

´I live in Vienna, I love Vienna and I will always come back there, but the greatest city I´ve been to is Amsterdam – since then I traveled all over the world so I know what I´m talking about.

´Of all the cities I visited, Amsterdam is the only one where I would want to live a period of time. So that´s what I´m gonna do, this summer, for a few months to begin with.´

´I can see that Amsterdam also has the flagship stores from all known store chains. And a lot of tourists, like every special city. But I see all these small jewelry shops where they sell their self-made jewelry. Little bakeries. Cosy streets. And a lot of water. I love water. I love cities with lots of water.´

[bbclesmis]

Composer John Murphy on Creating A New Musical Identity for ‘Les Miserables’

John Murphy returns from a personal hiatus to score PBS Masterpiece and BBC’s adaptation of Victor Hugo’s classic novel.

When you hear the title Les Miserables, you automatically think of the bombastic and overly played Broadway musical that came to a city near you. Or you saw the film adaptation that won Anne Hathaway her first Oscar a few years back. Since it debuted over 3 decades ago, Les Miserables has won the hearts of millions around the world. John Murphy, however, isn’t really a fan.

You’ve heard the music of John Murphy but you may not know it. I had no idea that he was the man who created that jolting music behind the opening sequence of 28 Weeks Later, and he also composed the lyrical and epic sound to Danny Boyle’s Sunshine (not only an underrated film, but an underrated score).

After taking a personal hiatus to focus on family and his personal life, Murphy wanted to jump back into scoring something completely different. If you look at his resume (you can sample his music here), there isn’t anything like Les Miserables on it. This is a classic tale of redemption with a sprawling scope and massive cast, and that wasn’t lost on Muphy. The score shows a huge amount of range, and he really digs into the minds of the characters. One moment the minds of Jean Valjean and Javert are amplified by the incessant plinking of simple piano strings and the next we are witnessing the horrors of Fantine literally selling her body for the sake of her child.

It’s a familiar story, for sure, but the execution is sophisticated and smart. The music is classic and enthralling in a way that a staged musical never could be.

You haven’t done a big project like this in a long time. Why return from your hiatus with Les Miserables?

I had enough of the movies, to be honest with you. I wanted to spend time with my kids. The spark had gone from me, and I felt that I was going through the motions. I wanted to feel like a human being again. When I decided that I was going to come back, I went in to see my agent, and we sat down to figure out what I wanted to do. I didn’t want to pick up right where I left off—with the wall of the sound, post apocalyptic sort of edgy thing I was getting known for. I wanted to do something a bit more grown up with more weight. I wanted something with gravity. A few days later, my agent said there was interest in my doing Les Miserables. I just cracked up, because, of course, I was thinking of the musical.

I do think that’s everyone’s immediate thought.

I hate musicals. I told my agent that I’d be the worst person for that—I’d mess it up. When he told me it was the book, something clicked. I remember that I read the book years ago. I used to tour a lot, and every time I was on the bus, I’d take a big stack of books. On a tour through France, I read Les Miserables. I loved it. I’ve never seen the musical, and I never want to—it’ll ruin it for me. It’s got everything. It’s got these dark characters wrestling with demons, good versus evil, death, betrayal. When I found out that it was going to be a 6 part adaptation and that it was going to be written by Andre Davies—who did the last War & Peace series—I knew I had to do it.

I had a Skype interview with the producers and the director, Tom Shankand. He was so passionate that I knew he was the real deal. He wanted to go back into the Victor Hugo book. It’s like a French Uncle Tom’s Cabin. Part of what Hugo was trying to do was let the world know of how these people were suffering. He was a brilliant man. He was trying to change legislation—he was a real champion of the poor. Tom wanted to get back to what the story was about and keep it raw. I was sold. A week later I was lucky enough to sit in a read through with the actors. Normally, I get brought onto a movie and they’ve practically finish the cut. It was interesting because they hadn’t even started filming yet.

Oh wow.

Yeah, I got to sit in and listen to their inflections the first time they were reading through it. There were ideas straight away. Lily Collins is this tiny thing, so that vulnerability was there immediately. I got to see Dominic—this huge guy. It was very inspiring. When I came onto it, I thought they weren’t going to start shooting for another 2 or 3 weeks, so I thought I’d have 6 months to wait for it. Then Tom and producers told me they wanted songs written, and I was like…hold on, what do you mean songs. There are these little songs and piano pieces in Hugo’s novel. They asked me if I wanted to do it, and I told them that I had never written anything before they started shooting ever. So I had 3 or 4 weeks writing these things.

With sitting in on that first reading, did it feel like the music could change with the characterizations or maybe that it would even help build the characters? I’ve never heard of a composer getting to see that so early.

Neither have I! With these great actors, it was amazing to see them. With David Oyelowo, you could see the posture he adopted—just reading it aloud. And I thought to myself, “That’s not natural.” There were all these different things I was watching—with him especially. When you’re composing in a medium that you already know about, you’ve got to make the distinction that you’re not scoring the book. You’re scoring this new retelling of the story. You have to be sensitive to what this new version is going to me. So, for me, watching David to his read through, he did a very quiet, controlled voice. It was different than the book. The same with Dominic. Dominic was a lot warmer with his Valjean than I remember the character being. I was putting notes in my phone and a lot of the things I felt that day helped me later on.

Once they started shooting, I just faded back to LA, and I was on my own. Just being there that day and cross referencing that with the scripts allowed me to write most of the scenes before they dropped the first episode with me. I got a real head start. I couldn’t write anything to picture, obviously, but by the time they gave me the first episode made such a big difference. I was lucky that when I agreed to do it, the read through was 5 days later. It was an amazing experience.

The miniseries has such beloved characters—whether you’re familiar with the book or the musical. Was there someone you really liked writing themes or motifs for?

It’s obviously to say the two main characters, but for them that was the biggest well. And it’s not just character scenes. I think some of my favorite things in there were the hulks scenes. I wanted to have something that felt utterly repetitive. What would be the repetitive sound of nothingness of this guy’s life? I ended up climbing inside the piano and muted some strings and was tapping one of the low piano strings with my finger to get this “dun…dun…dun…” It was this annoyingly repetitious thing that is so uncomfortable because you’re waiting for the chord to change. And it kind of doesn’t for ages. His biggest fear is getting caught. As soon as Javert sees him again at the factory you hear very quietly the “dun…dun…dun…”  I was trying to do the John Williams thing with Jaws. If he can do it with two notes, I wanted to do it with one. I thought it was a way to be effective without being necessarily musical. It’s not necessarily the character themes, but it’s the situational themes.

That repetitiveness feeds into Javert’s obsession with catching him.

You’re absolutely right. Javert’s version of it was much lower. His driving force throughout the whole story is his skewed sense of justice. In episode 3, 10 years have passed and he’s receiving the Medal of Honor, and when the camera comes to his face, it means nothing to him because this one man got away. You see him go to his room afterwards and when he starts eating his meal, you can see he does not taste it. Then you hear the lower version of the same theme and this hunger will never go away until he’s caught Valjean. It was a nice way to tie in the repetitive life of Valjean in prison with Javert’s mechanical obsession. It’s sort of Javert’s state of mind theme actually.

One of the most distinct pieces of music is when Fantine cuts her hair off and her teeth are ripped out of her mouth. The music feels like the score of a horror movie.

It was such a difficult decision to do it that way. Some people at the BBC said, “You can’t do it that way!” We had this scratchy viola when she gets her teeth pulled out. I thought it’s more gruesome without music. I argued with Tom because I thought that you need to hear the sounds of the teeth getting wrenched, and he said it’s too hardcore. We needed music to remind people they are watching television. I had that little theme for her on a music box with whole carnival. I wanted to do it a bit more macabre cinema—a bit otherworldly with this circus vibe. The guy who does the teeth pulling already has this painted face and hands, so I played into that. What changed it was I had this wonderful violist named Andy.

I need something to be whimsical but also be kind of fucked up and edgy. We had him in the studio and we were working through some articulations. We tried it with harmonica and tried it with the bow going one way and then the other, and then we tried putting it all together. We came up with this sound and I take no credit for it—it was him. It was swirling around and it was so fucked up. So we pulled the picture up, and we started as if we don’t know what’s going to happen to Fantine. Like she’s just going to get a haircut but we know it’s going to get bad. When we go into the teeth pulling, we were going let loose a little bit. There’s a moment when the old woman grab’s Fantine’s shoulders and pulls her back, and I thought wouldn’t it be cool if we did a viola version of the great guitar crash of Radiohead’s “Creep”? I asked him if he could do an 18/16, Johnny Greenwood crash in when he goes to take the teeth. He did it in one take. It made it completely over-the-top, but sometimes you gotta say fuck it. We may get hung for this, but let’s go for it.

I was going to ask if you used any nontraditional sounds in that sequence.

It sounds like a Les Paul with a lot of pedals with a lot of distortion. It was just the sound that we were getting from the viola. Once we had that sound, we wanted to use it in other places.

The scratching sound reminded me of the sounds people are scared of when they go to the dentist. It helped that she’s getting her teeth yanked out, so thank you for scaring the crap out of me with that.

We did use some non-orchestral sounds, but in that moment it just happened to be an orchestral instrument making that metal scraping sound. I hate the dentist too, so that sound really helped. It’s what you get with great musician.

There is obviously a lot of heavy material with this piece of fiction. When you get to do something different for the story—like the sweeping romance for Cosette and Marius—was that a welcome change?

It really did. Tom had an idea of what he wanted, and I had an idea of how I wanted to do it. He wanted a very gnarly folk score and to just use the music of the day. My original idea was 1816 Velvet Underground meets classic French 60’s romantic film music so we had these really light highs with grungy darkness. We ended kind of meeting in the middle. Some of the Velvet Underground stayed. What we both loved was when we went to the world of Cosette and Marius, we went to a stylized version of what she thinks love is. She’s just this abused kid who goes to live in a convent, so she has no idea what it really is. She’s 16, so she has every right to be romantic about everything. When we got to play her frame of mind, we got to play this romantic style. It was a relief after all the dirty stuff we’d be doing. I never thought I’d say that I was ready to get into some of that love stuff.

Since it’s 6 hours, this version really feels like 3 movies stacked on top of one another. Did the size of it all intimidate you?

I’ve done movies that have become big. My first thought was like, “I can’t win here.” Even though I’ve never seen the musical, people are going to watch it and wonder where those songs are. I didn’t think it was intimidating, but I did feel like I had a monkey on my back. Whatever I do, it’s not going to be the musical. A cloud that was always there. The only way to get through that is to completely own it. It’s clear that we aren’t trying to reference the show in any way. The first time I got the first episode, I think I was in denial. When I told people that I was doing it, they got so excited. But the first time I saw those famous two words come up on the screen, I thought, “Fuuuuck.” I had a beer and calmed down and we were fine from there. One small moment, and I got my shit together.

Les Miserables is streaming now.

https://www.awardsdaily.com/2019/05/06/john-murphy-interview/

[paperbagpetrichor]

Symphonic Song - Izuku Midoriya

Sunlight had just begun to creep out from behind the dark recesses of the moon. It brought with it a distinct dawn; dissimilar in the way it dazzled the skies, dusted the early-autumn oaks, dripped across the sidewalk like a patina of pale-orange oil paint, delicately dying everything beneath it a drove of diverse warm daubings. A peaceful day though it was, a disruption diverted devotion from the beauty over to the discomfort. Though the sun fought valiantly to keep the world beneath it warm, a vicious wind blew below its berth, negating the balmy colors with a cool, cuspidate coldness. The chill chained down the city beneath it. Although morning, everything seemed to be stuck in a state of permanent slumber. Houses were still, lights were dim, and movement was spread few and far apart.

That was not, however, to say there was no movement at all. Along a winding, deserted sidewalk, stretching for what felt like miles on end, a single figure walked, alone, with nothing but her backpack slung haphazardly across one shoulder and her phone in her hands. For a few moments she simulated the thought process of messaging her friends. She had promised them to, but after the flight and time-change shock, she had no idea what hour it might've been where they were. The thought of saying something, anything, to the friends she'd left behind - well, that felt like an entirely different matter. Her mind was still torn somewhere between apologizing profusely or putting on a smile regardless of the truth.

The truth was that moving mid-year was quite awful.

Especially moving mid-year from one country to another, around the globe, when nobody at her new destination was known and everybody from her old destination would be dearly missed.

Reluctantly, she shoved her phone inside her pockets. The stiff fabric of the new uniform would definitely take awhile to adjust to. Having said that, though, it wasn't a bad thing. At least she wouldn't be arriving at school looking like a complete foreigner. Of course, she still may not know where everything was - but that was precisely the mission she'd arranged for herself. School didn't start till 8:00. It was currently 5:00. That gave her the entirety of three hours to scout out her new educational center.

She was unsure as to what to expect. The massive heaps of praise placed onto UA had left a strong impression upon her mind, but at the same time, greatness in appearance didn't always match greatness in results. However, as she crested the final hill and caught first sight of the new academy, she was completely and utterly astonished.

The place was, at the very least, thrice as large as her previous school. Multitudinous floors were stacked upon one another, one by one, towering into the sky like a miniature skyscraper built for miniature heroes. And as she continued forth, she couldn't help but feel as though it was all rather fitting. Miniature heroes - that was the basic description of all of her new classmates, wasn't it? All of her new classmates...and herself.

Always, there was a song in her heart. Some beats thrown down slowly, chaotically, dropping like shade from fickle leaves floating in a midsummer breeze, dappling the ground beneath them and creating noises of greens and grays and golds and all hues between, before branching off into something more steady, more stable, controlled and calm, constantly conducive for their operator. She manipulated measures as easily as she walked. One in front of the other, change here, drop the note, switch the melody, keep the song pleasant and prevailing in the minds of those which were listening to it.

Today, the sounds were quiet. A steady thumping from the foliage filling out the sidewalks round her, and a deeper pull of energy from within the school building itself, but otherwise she was free of all fraternal ties to friends and family. Her mind was at relative ease. The peace was welcome but rare - whenever another's mind was near, the songs changed tune. It was no longer the sound of her soul, but the souls of others, too, rising into a raucous ruckus of rampant ringing, no rhyme or reason other than to ebb away at her energy.

But such was her quirk.

The soft humming led her around a few corners, but her focus wasn't directed internally; rather, back to her original purpose: surveying the outlay of the school. No blueprints had been available online. She knew none of the attending students, either. Of course, her schedule had said absolutely nothing about directions, as well, so every step she took was critically contributing to the success of her first day.

First day. First day, at UA.

Something about that didn't sound right.

Just a few days ago, she'd been an average student at a school for primarily quirkless students - the only with quirks were, unfortunately, rejects from other academies - despite being rather skilled in the use of her own blessings. The situation had nothing to do with her. More along the lines of familial troubles...constant moves, job changes, the ins-and-outs of home life. Quite frankly, regardless of how little respect she'd held for her previous school, she couldn't help but view it as better than being home.

At least the songs at school, although more numerous, were less malicious.

But now, she legitimately had reason to look forward to the dawning of each day, the rise of each new sun and fall of each new moon, the gentle lull of each new song she'd yet to encounter at her new educational institution. The time spent training to become a true hero, fighting for the wellbeing and safety of her fellow citizens, and the lessons learnt from real-life professionals of her dream occupation. Getting her quirk even more under her hands and to her advantage. Recognizing the soft notes that had begun to play in the back of her mind against the otherwise musicless static in her mind.

Wait.

Something about this song was different than that of mother nature's, and, without hesitation, she found herself slipping back around the corner, into the beginning of a small forest bordering the fantastically whimsical boundaries of her new school. The wind was no longer a gentle whistle, but rather an ever-growing tune, soft and sweet, soprano and silhouetting a figure of innocence in her mind's eye. Her hands found tree bark beneath them, and, as the song continued to swell, she gently shifted, sticking her head slightly around the cover of the canopied plants.

Nothing was easily recognizable at first. After all, why should it have been? It was hardly past sunrise - who would've been up at this hour, much less headed to school? A teacher, perhaps, she supposed, but nevertheless, something about this sudden arrival struck her as odd, and oddities caused her to fall into a more cautious modus operandi.

The song that swelled in her mind was sweet, but such sounds could prove themselves sickeningly deceitful.

Of course no quirk was without its limits. The songs of others' souls may have played loudly in her mind with every person she met, but just as a musician may alter the meters or melodies, those truly devoted to their devilish crafts could present themselves under the pretense of a hymn of falsified happiness.

She still wasn't sure how it all worked. But if her current hypothesis was correct - that the songs were based around emotions, not logical truths - then all it required was control of one's feelings in order to change the piece they unconsciously played.

But when sight of the owner was first caught, some of her apprehension couldn't help and fade.

He was dressed in uniform - that of a student's - and walked with the same unconsciously cautious gate as she had upon first arriving at the school. Now that she listened deeper, she heard his uncertainty reflected in the notes, which gently wavered, unsure of themselves, with each and every one of his falling footsteps. His green hair was illuminated by the exponentially-brightening sun, shining down upon what appeared to be an exponentially-brightening smile across his face as he paused mid-step before backpedaling, awe and wonder crescendoing through his body.

Quick notes within her mind began to harmonize with those of his, as though they had begun to develop a mind of their own, chorusing with captivating composure. His eyes were green pools of complacent comfort, and his song continued to rise, higher and higher, rivalling the clouds far up in the milky sky.

"I can't believe it," he breathed, voice raising as he continued, "I still can't believe it. I'm actually getting used to it!" This, followed by a rustling around in his backpack, and the retrieval of a sheet of paper. Although too far to read properly, the girl judged, by its shape and size, that it was most likely in accordance with the appearance of a schedule slip. "The best instructors in the world, teaching me, of all people..."

As his voice trailed off into joyous bewilderment, she felt herself reaching out for him. His song grew closer and soon she could see its instruments, watch the chords fall into place one after another, so incredibly similar to a tune that she hadn't heard in what felt like months, years, decades, lifetimes. A hypnotic hymn that drew her further in. It tugged at her heartstrings, her fingertips, and eventually her legs, which drew her out from behind her cherished safety point. She was walking without realizing. Breathing in his song as it reverberated around her mind, her body, her heart.

By the time she was recalled to reality, it was already too late. The boy's attention had snagged upon her image.

A look of vibrant fear first crossed his face, and for a few fractions of a second he held his apprehension around him like a shield, allowing him time to ascertain the knowledge of whether to fight or run, stay or go. But as quickly as it had come, it had gone. Opposite to the usual, it was almost as if her unfamiliarity to him was comforting, rather than alarming.

"Oh - hi!" He smiled nervously, his tune somewhat faltering from its typical tantalizing form. "Are you lost?"

The girl managed to put an end to the sounds in her head, directing her attention to the world around her rather than the world inside her. "Well...I actually just, um..." she broke off, her cheeks beginning to glow red with embarrassment at the odd truth. I'm here to peek through all the windows to gain knowledge of the layout. The follow-up would be an immediate call to the local authorities on the grounds of suspicious stalkerish activity.

So, instead, she boiled it down to its bare bones. "I'm new here," she began, "to U.A. Today will be my first day, but I haven't had time to take a tour...and I didn't want to look like a complete idiot." The faint song in her head changed from a dark theatrical sound to something lighter, as though laughing at her own self-deprecating lark.

To her surprise, the boy nodded, the smile only growing wider. "You don't have to sound so nervous," he replied, chuckling a bit, "I did the same thing on my first day. I was scared out of my mind."

Once more their harmonies were homogeneous.

"You've been here for awhile?" she inquired, tilting her head to the side. Her former forebodings faded away at his open honesty.

He nodded once more. "I've attended since day one." The piece of paper he'd pulled out was raised to his companion's face. "I'm really lucky to have made it in."

"Me too," she responded, grinning. As she began to scan the paper, her eyes grew wider with reserved excitement, somewhere between relief and disbelief. "Class 1-A? That's where I'm supposed to head to...hold on." A moment passed, and soon enough she, too, held her schedule back to him. "Do you know where these other classes are?"

Blankness passed over his face as he read through her schedule, before blossoming into a full-out grin. "Of course! And if you ever get lost - well, I don't think you will," he beamed, "because we share all the same classes."

The eruption of euphonies exploded again against her cherry-red face, simultaneously under a pallor with reprieve and a blush of elation, emotion flowing loudly through her veins as though her blood was liquid noise, composing a cacophony of captivated clinking. Her worries had all been for nought - not only had she arrived at school, safely, with time to spare and thoughts to share, but she had found the solutions to her substratal stupefaction. At a loss for words, all she could murmur was, "Thank you!"

"No trouble at all," he smiled, and the sunlight seemed to catch in his eyes and his hair, on his uniform and in his instrumental music, in such a parenthetically perfect presence, that the girl felt her heart swell against her bones. "Oh! I'm sorry - I almost forgot to introduce myself, aha. I'm Izuku Midoriya."

"I'm [y/n]," she returned, her head fluttering with the beauteous tune that continued its uncontrollable composition rate.

"Well, [y/n], welcome to U.A.! It's really amazing here. I have no doubt that you'll do great!"

Something about his purity, his childlike innocence and his desperate desire to help, to provide aid to those whom he had never even accosted aforetime, made the notes in her head dance wildly, the music spreading to every extremity in her body and flooding her with a feeling of pure pleasure. She had never once considered her old place of residency a house. And yet, after only a few minor moments, this new settlement was already a home.

I think it'll be more amazing with you around.

And the song inside her was sweeter than it had ever seemed, straightened veraciously with his, until they were no longer two separate entities but rather one extraordinarily enchanting orchestra.

[officialmaleclibrary]

Top 20 Magnus/Alec fandom favourites - the results are in!

Thank you to everyone who submitted fics and voted in all the rounds of the poll - and, of course, thank you to everyone for following us! 

We’re very excited to announce the results of the second round of voting. As we explained before, we want to showcase as many authors as possible, so only one fic (the one with the most votes) has gone into the top 20 for each author. The list of all nominations will be posted soon.

The list is in order of author pseud from A - Z. Happy reading!

The Language of Flowers by astudyinfic (PG13 | 8/8 | 19,099)

Following the loss of his brother, florist Alec Lightwood wants to do something to remember him by. Enter tattoo artist Magnus Bane who brings beauty and love into his life. What starts as a one-time thing blooms into an expression of love for all the important people in Alec's life.

Paparazzi by Alxsteele (Not Rated | 31/31 | 219,060)

Magnus Bane is a pop star best known for his break up songs and wicked dance sequences. Alec Lightwood is an actor best known for being the object of Magnus' songs.

When Alec’s new tv show gets picked up, a series of events throws Magnus back into his life, bringing up a mess of memories and confusion. Forced to spend more and more time together, will they ever figure their feelings out?

Good Our Whole Lives by beatperfume (Explicit | 9/9 | 34,833)

They say that prostitution is the world’s oldest profession, and it’s just as true for the Downworld as the mundane one.

But this is the first time Magnus has ever heard of a nephilim hustling his crowd.

Reconstruction by bumblebeesknees (Explicit | 3/3 | 80,115)

It takes months for Valentine to find the Mirror, and longer still to defeat him. Afterward, Alec has another first that he shares with Magnus: the strange and tentative transition from being not together to back together.

He’s not handling it as well as he’d like.

Appassionato by chonideno (PG | 35,866 | 2/2)

Alec plays the piano every day, with great talent. One night, a note slips under his door: it's a request from an anonymous neighbor. Before he knows it, Alec picks up the habit of leaving his window open so his neighbor can listen to him. Requests keep coming. Slowly, two strangers start a conversation without words and let the music do the work for them.

Eyes On Me by clockworkswan (Mature | 5/5 | 102,076)

When a new same-sex dancing rule gets people talking, Magnus Bane decides to take the jump from Latin to Ballroom in order to prove that change is a good thing. Looking for a new challenge, he’s determined to win the Ballroom Championships and be crowned victorious in the first same-sex partnership.

Now all he needs are the right shoes, the right music, and the right partner.

~

Alec is well on his way to securing another victory for his parents’ prestigious dance school, yet a new face, and surprising feelings, might change that. When Magnus turns up, he sweeps more than dancing traditions off their feet.

As the competition rounds heat up, and dreams hang in the balance, can the pair prove themselves to a worldwide audience of fellow dreamers, critics and cynics?

Deeper Than the Truth by insieme (Mature | 149,820 | 15/15)

Alec Lightwood is a world-famous author, though the world knows him only under his pseud: Gideon Archer. Magnus Bane is a fashion designer who just happens to be a big fan of Gideon's work.

One Show Only by KouriArashi (Explicit | 7/7 | 29,410)

It's hard to stay in the closet when the guy you had a one-night stand with two nights ago turns out to be your new partner ... but Alec will be damned if he isn't going to give it a try.

Love Is A Gamble by la_muerta (Explicit | 20/20 | 44.768)

Upholding law and order in gold-mining town Nephilim Falls, population 1,700 souls, is the responsibility of Sheriff Alec Lightwood. As it is, Alec already has his hands full with the saloons and whorehouses making tempers rise and the men rowdy when the day's mining goes badly, and the constant threat of bandits in the hills. The last thing he needs is some no-count gambler setting up a gambling hall in his town. And what kind of name is 'Magnus Bane', anyway?

pillow talk by lacheses (Mature | 5/5 | 26,592)

Alec Lightwood falls in love, one nap at a time.

And the Oscar goes to... by Lecrit (Explicit | 1/1 | 21,494)

Working for Magnus isn’t easy. Magnus is out of control and Alec has to yell more often than not to get him to listen to him. He hates everything formal because it means he has to watch his mouth. Most importantly, Magnus is an incorrigible flirt.

Which would be alright if Alec wasn’t utterly, irremediably, unfathomably in love with him.

Based on this prompt: "AU where Magnus is an Oscar winning actor and Alec, his PA, is in love with him."

Set Me In Motion by lemonoclefox (Mature | 20/20 | 132,055)

“Is that your way of asking me to cook for you sometime?” Alec says. “'Cause I will.” The moment the words escape his mouth, Alec finds himself slightly panicking. Because he does not talk like that, ever―in a way that might even be considered flirting―and he still doesn’t understand what it is about Magnus that brings stuff like that out of him. More importantly, he has a boyfriend. Magnus, however, just looks mildly surprised as their eyes meet. “My, my. Master chef, good family name, and charming?” Magnus tilts his head ever so slightly. “Careful, Mr. Lightwood,” he says in a low, teasing voice, mouth curving up in a smile. “You’re gonna make me swoon.” ---

One night, Magnus spots a handsome stranger in the elevator of his apartment building – which wouldn’t be a big deal if said stranger didn’t turn out to be dating Magnus’s neighbor. The stranger soon becomes Alec, and their paths end up crossing more than once. A tentative friendship develops as they slowly get to know each other, and they both find that it’s effortless in a way neither of them has ever known. It's only when other kinds of feelings start getting involved that things become a bit more complicated.

A Horse That Loves You by Lemur710 (PG13 | 1/1 | 5,563)

Magnus rushes into battle to rescue Jace—and comes to terms with what it means to love a shadowhunter with a parabatai.

Days of Dark by magnusragnor, ohprongs (Mature | 9/9 | 97,115)

Alec clutches the worn out comic book in his hands, his eyes sweeping over Captain America’s stance on the cover. He still remembers how excited Max had been when he’d gotten it, going on and on about how Captain America helped people, how he just wanted to stop the bullies - how he was a hero.

Staring down at the star on Cap’s shield, Alec pushes away all his anger and grief, focussing on the single most ridiculous idea he’s ever had. He can hear Hodge's voice, clear as day:

“With great power, comes great responsibility.”

(or, the the amazing spider-man ish au)

Fools Rush In by Maleciseverything (Mature | 4/4 | 85,198)

Alec, Jace, and Simon go to Vegas for Jace's bachelor party and things get a little bit ridiculous.

Alec wakes up the next morning and...wait a minute, who's that in his bed?

Five Times Magnus Isn’t a Good Boyfriend And One Time He Is by notcrypticbutcoy (PG13 | 1/1 | 7,112)

Being a high profile celebrity makes it difficult for Magnus to find enough time for his personal life. Alec's feeling lonely after spending yet another night alone.

Or, in which Magnus is spending too much time at work, Alec confides in Chairman Meow, and Magnus tries to make everything better.

Adventure XXL by RedOrchid (Explicit | 9/9 | 26,858)

Tune in for a breathtaking adventure—Reality TV like you’ve never seen it before. Join us on an exhilarating ride where contestants are both pitted against each other to complete challenges and forced to find ways to cooperate—as we determine who has the intelligence, strength, creativity and charm to make it to the top.

Six teams. One game.

This is Adventure XXL.

(Aka Jace signs himself and Alec up for a stupid reality show. Once Alec’s there, he meets fellow contestant Magnus, and suddenly the stupid show doesn’t feel quite so stupid anymore)

pro bono by sarcasticfluentry (Explicit | 1/1 | 7,195)

After the Clave drops the charges against Isabelle and declares her free, Magnus decides he doesn't want Alec's bow and quiver after all. He gets something even better.

The first time by theonetruenorth (Explicit | 1/1 | 1,623)

“Alexander, my darling,” Magnus whispered, leaning over Alec once more to tenderly stroke his thumb over Alec’s lips, red and sensitive from kissing. “You take my breath away.”

veni vidi amavi by WendigoBaby (PG | 1/1 | 5,663)

Alec still looks so young, bright-eyed and with morning scruff covering his face; there are no grey hairs on his head, no wrinkles embedded in his skin, except for little crow’s feet around his eyes that came from smiling. The golden band around Alec’s right ring finger catches the light as he cuts the tomatoes, quick and efficient.

It’s an unspoken rule that warlocks rarely marry. Usually, it’s the fear of commitment with mortals - the promise of heartbreak after they pass lingering like a ghost over your shoulder or people not wanting to spend the entirety of their lives devoted to one soul. But Alec has always had a tendency to surprise Magnus.

[more--than--music]

2018 Albums of the Year

Here’s my albums of the year. 2018 has been a brilliant year for music, and so I thought I’d lay out my favourite albums, and the reasons why they’re my favourites.

10: Unknown Mortal Orchestra – Sex and Food

Kicking the list off at ten, we have the fourth full-length project from the New Zealand lo-fi psychedelic group Unknown Mortal Orchestra. An album that calls to mind at various points dusty late 70s grooves, 80s synth work and yet very modern production sensibilities, Sex and Food bounces between deeply introspective balladry, and funky danceable beats. A sure step forward for a band that only looks to become more experimental as time goes on.

9: Ben Howard – Noonday Dream

The Devon based singer-songwriter gives a compelling vision of the future of indie-folk with this transient and supremely accomplished set of songs. Taking a further stride away from the straightforward acoustic sound of 2011’s Every Kingdom, Noonday Dream shows an artist unafraid to utilise aspects of electronic and ambient music into his soundscapes, resulting in a transcendent, elegant, and above all beautiful set of tracks. The opening duo of Nica Libres At Dusk and Towing The Line are a particular high point.

8: Thom Yorke – Suspiria (Music for the Luca Guadagnino Film)

Surprisingly his first ever venture into soundtrack work, Thom Yorke’s masterful score for the Luca Guadagnino film of the same name could be in this list simply on the strength of its lead track; Suspirium is an otherworldly waltz, a spartan piano line presided over by Thom’s instantly recognisable vocals. But it is the deeper cuts for which this album earns its place; Open Again begins with a fingerpicked guitar progression that grows into a monolithic walk to the gallows and then fades out once more. A master at the height of his powers.

7: Sports Team – Winter Nets

Undoubtedly the least well-known name on this list, the debut EP from the London-based indie-pop outfit Sports Team has been one of my most played records yet this year. A cerebral mix of Jarvis Cocker-style lyricism preoccupied with the minutiae of suburban life, and pitch perfect indie rock arrangements teetering on the edge of chaos, this shows talent beyond their years; the only EP on this list, these five tracks managed to catch my attention early on, and have stayed with me through the year. Ones to watch.

6: MGMT – Little Dark Age

A name I would not have expected to see on this list at the start of the year, the comeback from the early 2000s electro-pop group is unexpectedly brilliant. Far from the runaway chart success of singles such as Electric Feel, Little Dark Age is full of tracks that could have been pulled from the dusty archives of pretty much any 80s synth bands, but combined with so many left-field production choices, and lyrics that belie a dark sensibility beneath the bright instrumentation, this album becomes a very mature release indeed. The single, Little Dark Age, is just magic. I can’t wait to see what comes next.

5: Car Seat Headrest – Twin Fantasy

Bringing us into the second half of this list is Will Toledo’s project Car Seat Headrest, with a rerecorded, remastered version of his 2011 breakout album Twin Fantasy. Toledo’s DIY ethos calls to mind contemporary Kevin Parker, of Tame Impala, although the two go about their self-imposed individualism rather differently. Toledo’s recordings retain the lo-fi teen emotion of the original Twin Fantasy, while adding the production sensibilities of Toledo’s later Car Seat Headrest ventures, resulting in such a dizzying barrage of pitch perfect indie ballads that display mature, incisive and insightful lyricism. The peaks of the album slip off the rails in the most glorious way, and culminate in simple, honest, and resounding emotional resolutions. Few albums so perfectly capture the teenage experience... a brilliant achievement.

4: Father John Misty – God’s Favorite Customer

It will come to no surprise to those of you who know me that Josh Tillman has made his way into this list; I have been following Father John Misty since last year’s existential crisis of an album, Pure Comedy. But God’s Favorite Customer is an entirely different beast- aside from the single, Mr Tillman, the typical luscious arrangements of a usual Father John Misty album are conspicuously missing here. Gone are the chamber pop orchestras and parlour ballads; here is FJM with an acoustic guitar, a month’s stay in a hotel room, and some utterly shattering songwriting. Tillman has abandoned his lofty perch overseeing the human condition in favour of personal, painful lyrics that dissect a failing relationship in real time. Many of these songs are addressed to, or from the perspective of, Josh’s wife, Emma, and the narratives are as autobiographical as ever. But the key here is that Tillman has ceased to be just an observer of the phenomena he comments on; in God’s Favorite Customer he has no choice but to experience them from the inside, and it makes for devastating listening in places. However, Misty has not abandoned all hope; closer We're Only People (And There's Not Much Anyone Can Do About That) ends the album with a remarkably beautiful and optimistic look at humanity, and leaves you ready to emerge from the hotel room, blinking against the sunlight, into the outside world.

3: Blood Orange – Negro Swan

London born producer, multi-instrumentalist, and general prodigy Devont Hynes, has outdone himself on his fourth project under the moniker Blood Orange; Negro Swan represents exactly the kind of progressive song writing Hynes is so sought after in the pop world for, and brings together a beautiful collage of sounds and textures to produce an album that is so of the moment, it feels like a time capsule of today. Swan embraces diversity, revelling in a celebration of sexuality and identity that feels almost carnival-like in its embrace of so many aspects of modern R&B and Hip-Hop. On what other album can you find Puff Daddy monologuing about his own fear of being loved? This whole project is filled with moments such as this, with trans black activist Janet Mock providing a loose narrative thread tying the album together. But for me, the true highlight of this album is Hynes himself; a young black artist showcasing a striking talent that simply refuses to obey the laws of genre or society. The musical prowess on show is undeniable; in particular, Hynes’ guitar work is so accomplished, tracks such as Charcoal Baby are sheer joy to listen to because of it. The vocals on this record are equally impressive; comparisons will undoubtedly be drawn to Prince, although personally I see Hynes as akin to Frank Ocean, both showcasing a new vision for R&B in the 21st century, and Swan feels in many ways a sibling to Ocean’s 2016 album Blonde, in its transient nature and almost soundscape-like mixture of sounds and feelings. Negro Swan is a glorious celebration in which all expression is embraced, and no identity is off-limits. This is what all modern R&B should aspire to.

2: Arctic Monkeys – Tranquility Base Hotel & Casino

Those monkeys, eh? Four years after their last studio effort, with each member having done something entirely different (and accomplished, see Alex Turner with The Last Shadow Puppets, and Matt Helders on the latest Iggy Pop record) with their sabbatical, no one quite knew what shape their return would take. Recorded in London, Paris and Los Angeles, the sixth album from the band synonymous with early 00s indie could have taken quite a number of directions; furthering the slick arena rock of AM, delving deeper into the baroque pop offering the Last Shadow Puppets pursue, or perhaps even a return to their raucous indie rock roots. Naturally, they did none of the above. The first sign of their step in a different direction was a video they posted in mid-April, announcing a return with an eerie synth line and a fuzzy guitar lick; in hindsight it was the perfect segue into the TBH&C era, both a nod to the leather-clad rock of AM, and yet the space-age synths and fictional space resorts of Tranquility Base. And when the album did come? Oh boy. I’m not sure a release in 2018 divided fans quite like the Monkeys’ did. I’ve heard it variously described as “sheer genius”, “derivative retro nothing” and “f*cking lift music”. It really was that polarising. I’m sure that from its spot on this list you can guess which camp I fall into. From the go, the surreal lyricism of Alex Turner is front and centre, and the record is all the better for it. From surreal references to Kubrick film techniques, and obsession with sci-fi jargon, to ridiculous pastiches of Hollywood clichés, critics weren’t short of liner notes to unpick. But the key for me was the way that the album, as all great sci-fi does, comments on modern life through the lens of futurism, while also keeping you scratching your head the whole time. Furthermore, the actual songwriting is as good as ever, with Turner making a tune about a less than perfect review for a taquiera on the moon into the rhythmic centrepiece of the album. I do have to confess, I am slightly biased; I’m a lifelong AM fan, and I did see this performed live, which only deepened my admiration of it but truthfully- listen to this album. Then listen some more. And then some more again. Because when it clicks, you won’t experience anything else even remotely like it all year.

Bonus Round

These are albums that I discovered in 2018, but weren’t released this year… they deserved recognition along with the rest of these projects.

5: Frank Ocean – Endless

Frank Ocean is one of, if not the, best and most innovative artists working in modern R&B. That much is undisputed. But until 2018, despite being a huge Frank Ocean fan, I had neglected his 2016 visual album, Endless. Perhaps this was due to laziness, not having Apple Music, or perhaps it was because for me it was vastly overshadowed by the release of the seminal Blonde a few days later. Or maybe I simply thought a visual album wasn’t worth my time. Whatever the reason, I was a fool to overlook it. Endless is an ethereal journey through Ocean’s psyche, with a vast soundscape of beautiful, flowing synths and guitars. Furthermore, Endless features some of Ocean’s best rap work since Channel Orange. A truly beautiful project, and Higgs is, for me, Ocean’s most devastatingly sad track… further evidence that Frank doesn’t put a foot wrong.

4: Leonard Cohen: Songs Of Leonard Cohen

In 2016, the music world lost one of its most treasured talents, in the form of Leonard Cohen. However, although I have always been aware of Cohen’s work (Hallelujah, his inspiration of Nick Cave, The Last Shadow Puppets’ Is This What You Wanted cover), I had never taken the time to sit down and immerse myself in his work. Well, I was very much missing out. His cinematic, confessional storytelling, and his instantly recognisable voice and manner, mean that his songs are almost exactly the type of ballads I love, and Songs is his finest work. From start to end, you see the world through Cohen’s eyes. A poet.

3: King Krule: The OOZ

King Krule (real name: Archy Marshall) is a divisive artist; many see him as a visionary, however he is also, to many (including my dad) just “the one with the awful voice”. To me, Krule is a fantastic lyricist and producer, with an instantly recognisable sound. From the moment you enter The OOZ, you are in Marshall’s world, a London of grimy concrete and eerie loneliness. However, there are moments of beauty among the sluggish, smog-filled music; Slush Puppy, despite descending into madness near the end, is a really quite endearingly desperate performance. Cadet Limbo also shows off Krule’s more jazzy influences, and is all the better for it. A view into the future of singer-songwriting.

2: Father John Misty: I Love You, Honeybear

Josh Tillman has already featured on this list once, and it’s no secret I think he’s one of the best artists working today. However, until this year, I had never given his 2015 romantic opus, Honeybear, a proper listen. I was turned on to Misty by his 2017 work Pure Comedy, and after an existentialist view on all of Humanity, a romance album seemed like a step back, so I didn’t give it the time it deserved. How wrong I was. Honeybear is a beautiful, tender, and being an FJM record, deeply satirical and funny, look at love, relationships, and society. It features lush, beautiful arrangements, and gorgeous melodies, all delivered with Misty’s characteristic tongue-in-cheek smirk. Not one track on the album is dead space, and there are several high points, right from the start. Favourite for me is I Went To The Store One Day, which is a simple, yet incredibly beautiful and moving ballad to close the album. Stunning stuff indeed.

1: Everything Everything – A Fever Dream

I’ve known of Everything Everything for quite a while now, but in early 2017 I was gifted tickets to see them on their A Fever Dream tour, and it absolutely blew my mind. EE have crafted brilliant electronic indie music in the past, with catchy melodies and odd, skittering rhythms. However, A Fever Dream builds on this in the best possible way, building on their electronic sound and adding an even more fiercely of-the-moment view on songwriting. One of the highlights for me was Jonathan Higgs’ vocals, which electrified the music with a fierce intellect, and sparkling melodies. An ecstatic blend of so many musical styles, which results in a fantastic album. A masterpiece for today.

Okay, finally the main event. My album of the year 2018 is…

1: IDLES – Joy as an Act of Resistance.

Here we are then. Number one spot. And again, if you know me, you know there could never really have been any other album here. I first discovered IDLES earlier in the year, riding off the success of their breakout debut album Brutalism, an unstoppable punk locomotive of an album, with guitar and bass lines that are so, well, brutal, that they break down the door and hold you at gunpoint until you sit up and pay attention. This band is the perfect voice for austerity Britain, more mature than Slaves, more relevant than Sleaford Mods, and yet they walk an incredibly fine line. It’s almost impossible to define until you hear a band that possess it, but they simply make. So. Much. Sense. Joe Talbot talks with such a fiery intensity that it’s impossible not to listen, and an eloquence that is so often missing from punk. He’s so likeable, and oddly enough for punk, easy to listen to. However, don’t mistake that for the album lacking brutal riffs. Because it has those in spades. From the opening bass rumble of Colossus, JAAAOR picks you up by the scruff off your neck, and doesn’t put you down until the last manic notes of Rottweiler fade away. This is a rock record that defies rock, a punk record that doesn’t define itself as punk, and a political statement that bases its politics on the phrase “Love yourself.” This provides an infectious alternative to the toxic masculinity of so much mainstream rock, and a uniquely vulnerable take on an incredible variety of issues. Beginning with an immediate left-footing with Colossus, the album the catches its witty and caustic stride with Never Fight A Man With A Perm, going from strength to strength the whole time. I’ve never quite identified with a track lyrically as much as I’m Scum, a rallying call for liberals everywhere: “I'll sing at fascists 'til my head comes off, I am Dennis Skinner's Molotov / I'm lefty, I'm soft, I'm minimum wage job”and erupting into the chant of “this snowflake’s an avalanche”. It goes on to postulate about not caring about the next James Bond, as “we don’t need another murderous toff”. The next track is the joyous Danny Nedelko, an ode to Talbot’s friend, and frontman of Heavy Lungs, Danny Nedelko. It’s a quite magnificent celebration of immigration and diversity, and embodies the sentiment of the album as a whole quite simply with a roar of “Unity!”. Potent stuff. The next highlight (or rather lowlight) for me is the one-two punch of June and Samaritans. June is a singularly moving ode to Talbot’s stillborn daughter, building all the time to a non-existent crescendo, and repeating the six-word mantra “Baby shoes, for sale. Never worn.” Incredibly painful, raw and poignant; you feel as if you’re witnessing a moment that you really shouldn’t be, a would-be father grieving at the bedside. It then transitions into Samaritans, an anti-toxic masculinity manifesto, furious in its denial of male stereotypes: “Man up, sit down, chin up, pipe down”, and building relentlessly to sheer ecstasy of the decree: “I kissed a boy and I liked it”. Powerful, powerful stuff. Track eight, Television, is pinned down by a juddering riff complimented by the incredibly able drumming of Jon Beavis (a very much unsung hero of the group), and a wonderful self-love mantra. Moving on, Great is an anti-Brexit track than manages to reveal the hypocrisy of nationalism without ever moving into preachy politicism, which is Talbot’s greatest strength; he can make any point sound like the simplest and most honest declaration ever. Gram Rock and Cry To Me are witty, and the least overtly political tracks of the album; but even these apparent low points aren’t by any means stale, quite the opposite. Every moment of this record fizzes with energy. Finally, Joy rounds off with the magnificent Rottweiler, a searing discrediting of the UK media, ending in the wheels coming off as the tension built throughout the 42 minutes comes to a chaotic end, with Joe yelping “Unity!”over and over. I have one final thing to say about Joy; it’s production is pristine throughout, with clarity in even its most chaotic moments. This is my record of the year, because I feel no other record held my attention so completely, and was so representative of the sentiment of this year. Pure joy.

Well then, thanks for sticking with me. 2018’s been a belter of a year for music, and I can’t wait to see what 2019 brings.

[psychicphilosophies]

Synchronicity: 10 Signs The Universe Is Speaking To You

What is synchronicity and why does it have such an impact on our lives? Well, whether you believe in it or not, synchronicity is a spiritual phenomena, which is presented by experiencing frequent coincidences, names, phrases, numbers or even seeing the same animal regularly (omens). Coincidence, on the other hand , does definitely exist just like synchronicity, but ther’s a slight difference. Coincidences only happen once and one time only, whereas synchronicity is the same coincidence that keeps getting repeated. Now this is when a simple coincidence that happens to us becomes a sign from the higher realms and the universe. This is when we should take note of it and listen to our intuition, rather than ignoring it. The first person to take notice of synchronicity, was Swiss psychiatrist and psychologist Carl Jung, who was talking to a client about a dream they had about a golden sacrab beetle, and before they knew it, they saw one in the window of Carl’s psychotherapy cabinet which was rather majestic considering that species of beetle wasn’t native to Switzerland.

Most people in everyday society believe that synchronicity is utterly meaningless and should be taken as a pinch of salt. However, this is the attitude that feeds mediocrity and unsatisfaction within our lives. By acting this way, we are subconsciously blocking ourselves from experiencing serendipity, joy and blessings that life brings into our path. Ever since we were children, society and our parents have continuously made us believe that the world is dangerous, scary and full of negativity and tragedy. Society doesn’t want you to have a curious mind because society thinks these people have the power to change world instead of conforming like everyone else. So start embracing your inner child and explore the world like you’ve never stepped on Earth before. You’ll begin to see your life as more blissful, wondrous and free, so adopt this attitude and end the cycle of negativity.

1. You keep noticing or hearing their name in random places

Have you ever experienced this? When you consistently hear or see a particular name everywhere on your travels it means that this person male or female, is soon to enter your life in 3D some time in the near future, who will awaken you spiritually and make drastic changes in your life for the better. It can also have romantic connotations as well, which means that they will be manifested as your ultimate lover that you’ve always dreamed of. This is very common with people who are on the twin flame journey, particularly during the seperation stage. The universe gives you these divine messages because it wants you to know that you are still loved by your beloved twin, even though in reality it doesn’t seem like it at all. It’s like the universe is telling you to never give up hope and listen to your higher self.

2. You see angel numbers and sequences on a regular basis

You see numbers like 1111, 777, 888, 111 and many other sequences on a regular basis whether that is on a clock, number plates or telephone numbers. Sometimes you can wake up at the same time every morning or night as well, which often causes many people to freak out. The synchronicity of 1111 is very common within the spiritual community, as it generally means someone special is coming into your life such as a twin flame. However, it can also mean that you are going through a spiritual awakening as well. I have experienced the 1111 phenomena occasionally, but it is not as common for me. My angel number has been 111 for over a year and it continues to be even now. I have also seen 222 and 333 randomly sometimes. These numbers can also represent as a deceased loved one that is trying to communicate with you. See these numbers as a message from a deceased relative that is telling you to keep following your spiritual path and have faith in it.

3. You think of someone and then out of the blue you accidently bump into them

When this happens most people take this as a pure coincidence or chance. This is right, especially when it only happens once and never to occur again. However, when you consistently think of someone and see them randomly on your travels, take note. Do not get this synchronicity confused with stalking, as this can be mistaken very easily. If you keep bumping into someone serendipitously this means that this particular person will have a powerful impact in your life in someway. They can be people you knew in the past or a random stranger you just met yesterday.

4. Hearing a song on the radio that reminds you of someone or scenario that had a significant impact in your life

Have you ever listened to the radio and then a random song plays with lyrics that coincidentally matches up with how you feel about someone or a scenario? I have experienced this several times in my life. This usually happens between soulmates and twin flames during the separation phase of the divine partnership. It is another form of telepathy or psychic communication soulmates and twin flames can experience when they’re not talking to each other in the physical world. Music is created and lead by the emotions and the spirit, so this is why many twin flames and soulmates have experienced this synchronicity while they’re on their spiritual journey to reunite with each other again. 

5. Randomly thinking about someone and they call you or send you a message a split second after

This phenomenon is very common with soulmates, but more so with twin flames. This phenomenon is called telepathy, which means mental communication between two people (whether they are near each other or faraway). Sometimes twin flame or soulmate couples can have telepathic communication - even when they’re on the other side of the world from each other. I have experienced this myself, and I have to confess that I’ve often scratched my head out of pure confusion because the phenomena is just absolutely bizarre. It’s so bizzare that no one would believe you if you told them about it or they would ask for evidence to prove that it exists. Bearing in mind that soulmates and twin flames don’t necessarily have to be a potential romantic partner, but they can also be a relative, your child, sibling, a best friend or parent. However, most of the time twin flames (more so than soulmates) are romantic partnerships.

6. You come across something that fixes a problem that has been worrying you for some time

Have you ever gone into a store or read an article online and then out of the corner of you eye, you suddenly see something that has the answer to a problem that you’ve been desperately wanting to fix? These are epiphanies or miracles from the universe showing you that you can finally break down the blocks that have cause you pain, suffering and anguish. When you see this, the universe is telling you that there is hope and you can escape from what has been holding you back.

7. You meet a stranger that awakens you about a particular aspect in your current life

Throughout our daily lives we meet many people who come in and come out without us consciously thinking about it, but then there’s some people that entered our life in some way that stay in our memory for many days, months, years, decades or even for a lifetime. These people may have been a stranger that helped you or saved your life or that special someone who took your breath away at the first glance of them. These people are usually lightworkers, twin flames, soulmates or your guardian angel that has incarnated on Earth. When you encounter someone like this, you feel an instant connection to them which feels sacred and cosmic. These people are your healers, protectors, divine lovers, soul friends and spirit guides. This why you’ll always remember them for many years. 

8. You consistently see meaningful or sacred symbols

These symbols can be anything that has significant meanings and interpretations or have a religious connection to them. Symbols such as the holy trinity or infinity (lemniscate) are perfect examples of this. If you are on the twin flame journey, whether that is meeting your twin for the first time in 3D or you are currently going through separation you may see synchronicity involving the infinity symbol. When this happens the universe is basically telling you that their love for you is eternal and unbreakable and you should never give up hope even when you feel lost, helpless and stuck. On my twin flame journey, I have experienced synchronicity, especially with the infinity symbol so much so that I decided to buy an infinity necklace because it’s meaning meant so much to me.  

9. You casually find yourself watching a movie that accurately mirrors the story of your life and what you’re going through (or have gone through)

This is a rarer type of synchronicity, as there are not many movies that have been made, which are nearly accurate to your own life story. If you have experienced this before, consider yourself lucky because it’s very, very rare. I believe that this is the most meaningful and poignant kind of synchronicity that I have listed in this post.

10. Reoccurring prophetic dreams about an event or person that will soon be entering your life

This synchronicity is very common when you begin to start waking up spiritually and develop psychic abilities. When you have very profound dreams that are repeated regularly with the same dream, this is known as clairvoyance or psychic vision. You’ll begin to have these at the very beginning of your spiritual awakening and journey. By having these dreams, you are now becoming self-aware of your divine gifts and talents that you can share with the world, rather than ignoring them and pushing them away.

[surveysonfleek]

939.

You’re at least a little bit cold right now. You would decline if the last person you kissed proposed to you.  You’ve shaved your legs in the past 24 hours. The last person you called knows your parents. ‘I love you’ was said in your last relationship. Your best friend is in love. There is food in your room right now. Your friends like your current bf/gf/crush. You always forget to put your seatbelt on. You text the person you like.  Your birthday is past the 10th of its month. You’ve had a bf/gf forget your birthday. Chicken soup really does make you feel better when you’re sick. You celebrated the one month in your last relationship. Your best friend has had their heart broken recently.

You usually eat supper with your family. You’ve fallen for a friends’ bf/gf before. You’d rather eat fries over salad.  You’re a really good gift buyer. You’ve had a cat/dog who had kittens/puppies. You accept every friend request whether you know them or not. You can’t sleep without a blanket. You need very particular conditions to sleep. You’d be comfortable going to the last person you kissed in sweats with no makeup and your hair a mess.  You bought what you wore today in the past couple of weeks. You’d be able to name all of Santa’s reindeer. You’ve spent HOURS getting prettied up for someone. It takes you forever to pick out outfits for dates. You’ve been friends with someone who moved to a different country. Cafeteria food really is gross. You’ve given someone a hickey before. If you could, you’d start your life over right now. You’ve cried in front of the person you have feelings for.  There is someone who makes you smile just thinking about them. You’ve found a friend’s mom/dad very good looking before. You’d rather live without TV than without makeup. You’d rather live without your parents than without your siblings. Someone has once told you you’re the most important person in their life. You’ve worn a matching Halloween costume with someone before. Your hair is in need of a wash right now. You know that someone has feelings for you right now. You believe you’ve met your soul mate already. You know what you’re being for Halloween already. Someone calls you cute/beautiful/etc on a daily basis. There were other people there during your last kiss. You’ve kissed someone right after they smoked pot. You’ve dated someone at work, broke up, and had VERY awkward times there. You can see some kind of liquid from where you’re sitting. You’ve been set up on a HORRIBLE blind date before. The last person you hugged is single. You’ve seen the last person you texted drunk. Your last relationship was ended pretty much mutually. You wouldn’t date someone much younger than you. You know someone but only their last name - that’s all anyone ever calls them. Your grandparents are way too nosy. You’ve talked to a huge bitch in the past 24 hours. The last person you laughed with is in love. You have blonde streaks through your hair. You often wear ripped jeans. When going out, you wear really low-cut shirts. You’ve cheated before. ^And it made you realize how much you loved your boyfriend. You’re extremely blunt. You’ve been known as a tease. You’re not a bitch unless it’s necessary. You take things really personal sometimes. If a guy screws up one time, you say you’re done. You have hair extensions or have used them before. You wear heels with booty shorts. You have out-played a player. You wear glasses at night.  You’ve intentionally made a significant other jealous. ^By getting another guy’s number in front of him. You’re really short. You and your mom are really close. You have been hit by a guy. You have been hit by a girl. You stand up for your friends no matter what. After a break-up, you haven’t been able to move on for a really long time. You’ll dance anywhere at any given time. You’re obsessed with pickles. You’ve been hit on by a guy who already had a girlfriend. You’ve been fired from a job. You always speak your mind, no matter how bitchy you may seem. You find it easier to give up in tough situations. When going on vacations, you pack your shit in garbage bags instead of a suitcase. You call yourself by a nickname that has to do with a celebrity. You scream to get your point across the majority of the time. You’re always in other peoples’ business, and you don’t care. You’ve been guilty of cock-blocking before. Fun is not something you’re a fan of. I’m related to my best friend. I love getting inked. Almost every song reminds me of something/someone. I haven’t traveled much in my life. I have a dailybooth account. I hate when people act like whoever they’re around. Get fucking real.  I don’t like taking showers at night. Procrastination is my middle name. I watch My Life as Liz on MTV. I recently got something back I lent to someone. I’ve been to the beach within the past week. I fell asleep watching a movie last night. I really like the band Circa Survive. I use my Twitter everyday. No one ever asks me anything on formspring. I can roll joints like a pro. I’ve been taking a lot of pictures lately. I love seeing cute guys. I don’t like it when people get drunk and call/text me. I hate when my stomach growls in a quiet room. I burp all the time, I don’t think it’s gross at all. I’m missing someone I know I shouldn’t. I watch Intervention.  I need to start working out. I hate seeing someone I used to know and having to make awkward small talk. Honestly, I don’t give a shit about politics. The tattoo healing process sucks balls. I’m allergic to my pets. I need some food, pronto. I don’t obsess over celebrities. I don’t look like any celebrities. I like rap music, but I’m not all about it. Going to concerts or shows doesn’t really appeal to me. Someone recently texted me that I’ve been avoiding. I don’t really like having a boyfriend, I like being single most of the time. I hate when I see someone I knew and they completely avoid me. I look a lot different now than I did in middle school. I listen to A Skylit Drive. I watch the show Hoarders, and I’d cry if I lived in a house like that. I can easily relate to people’s situations. Every time I say or hear the word ‘situation’ I think of Mike “The Situation”. ^ I’m a fan of that on Facebook. The thought of contacts makes me want to gag. I think I need glasses. I have driven under the influence I have quit a job I have dyed my hair a completely different color from my natural I have stayed on the phone longer than 3 hours with a boyfriend I have used a Snuggie I have stayed up for more than 48 hours straight I have had a close friend turn into a complete bitch I have read the books Crank & Glass I have been utterly disgusted by what I saw in the mirror I have worn Bullhead jeans I have painted my nails neon colors I have bobbed for apples I have cried just from wanting something to happen so badly I have researched about drugs on the internet I have done more than 3 drugs I have worn a fur coat I have lived in the same country my whole life I have spent an entire day and night on the computer I have stayed up late working on something for school I have creeped on Facebook/MySpace I have had a fake ID I have rode around late at night with a bunch of friends, drunk/high I have worn clogs I have worn Uggs I have eaten banana pancakes I have owned stuff from Bath & Body Works I have worn a scarf during the spring or summertime I have hooked up with a random guy while on vacation I have eaten fried Twinkies I have eaten fried Oreos I have ridden a roller coaster I have woken up with a really dry or sore throat I have hiked a mountain I have rock climber I have gone skydiving I have pretended to like something I didn’t I have pretended to like someone I didn’t I have been nice just to spare feelings I have jogged 2 miles straight I have stayed in my pajamas all day long I have failed an important class I have drank something other than champagne out of a champagne glass I have watched ‘80s TV shows I have beaten a high score on a video game I have been taller than 5'4” I have carved my name into something. I have played at a playground over the age of 13. I have gotten a ‘brain freeze’ I have been to Cabela’s I have been to Ron Jon’s Surf Shop I have written longer than a 5 page paper I have intentionally started a fight with someone I have seen a comedian live I have seen my favorite band live I have organized everything in my room before I’m on the phone. I’m on the phone with a guy friend. My hair is wet. My hair wrapped up in a towel, turban-style. I just got out of the shower. I’m in the living room. The TV is on in the room I’m in. A reality show is currently on. I have a hair tie around my wrist. I am not texting anybody. I’m wearing pajamas. I’m not listening to music. I’m on a laptop. My laptop is plugged in and charging. My toenails are painted. My fingernails aren’t painted. I’m wearing deodorant. I’m drinking water. My cell phone is within reach. I’m not hungry. I’m not sleepy. I’m thinking about someone. I laughed within the past few minutes. I’m on my period. My house smells like coffee. I’m wearing a white shirt. My pants are plaid pajama pants. I’m not wearing socks. I’m not wearing a bra. I’m not wearing a bracelet or necklace. Something on my body itches. I’m procrastinating. I have a zit on my back. I’m sitting on the sofa. My mom is within my line of vision. The light is on in the room I’m in. I should be doing something else. I should be doing school-related stuff. Today is Thursday. It’s night time. It’s dark outside. I’m thirsty. I’m sitting in a comfortable position. My ankles are crossed. My hair isn’t in a ponytail. There’s a song stuck in my head. I’m looking forward to something. My lips aren’t chapped.

[xraytwo]

Another long(er) read, indulge me.

Why I Still Miss Donna Summer

It's been a little under five months since I underwent my "Donna Summer Renaissance". With the passage of time, this seems a good place to look back. Want to flesh out some thoughts and feelings on why I like her music and why I find her kind, warm, funny and genuine. For some context, here is the original article.  I'll wait, lol.

https://xraytwo.tumblr.com/post/189593217823/how-i-learned-to-miss-donna-summer

During December (and the following months), have had the chance to listen to a lot of her music. Still haven't listened to everything but enough to glean some favorites. Have also listened to a handful of albums on Youtube.

Here are my Personal Top 5 Donna songs. Interpretations are mine, unless otherwise noted:

1) MacArthur Park (from "Live and More") – Written by Jimmy Webb in 1967. Was originally recorded by actor Richard Harris in 1968. His version is ok. There were some other versions from the early 70's, including one, I think, from Frank Sinatra. The song is melodramatic with some oddball and out of left field lyrics. Well, it was the 60's. It's an ode to 'romantic resilience ' (I read that somewhere but it seems a good interpretation). The music is absolutely great. Something about the beginning of this song. Those opening piano chords get me every time. Then Donna starts singing. Goosebumps. She is perfect throughout the whole thing, making great choices on how and where to change things up for the best effect. She makes you care about about a cake thats been left out in the rain, lol (the metaphor of neglecting a love or relationship). This song is a great showcase of her range, power and emotive quality. I would say her version is the definitive one. Hard to imagine anyone else singing it as well as she does. There are some other good versions out there, but nobody can touch her. She owns this song. It is excellent live.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GWFHVBnR7G0

or

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RkihKdznWwo

2) I Feel Love (from "I Remember Yesterday") – This one is THE iconic Donna Summer song, in my opinion. It was years ahead of it's time and still sounds modern today. From what I read about it, the creation process was one happy accident after another, so the pieces kind of fell into place. It is from a concept album where each song is in the style of a different time period of the 20th Century, going from the past, to today (the 70's), to the future. I Feel Love is the future, and boy was it. The music is basically all a Moog Modular synthesizer. Donna's vocals, all I can say is, just Wow. Trancelike, emotive, Otherwordly. There's not much more that can be said. Again, perfect choices. It's hard to imagine anyone other than her singing it. Sam Smith gave it a shot, but it's not the same. Something about the quality of her voice. It's just perfect. The whole song is a stereophonic trip, with the vocals taking you on a ride to the future. Donna cowrote some of the lyrics. This one gets my pulse pounding and always a delight to listen. Live doesn't seem to quite match the studio but her voice is great. The performance where she sings with an orchestra, is to die for (Night at the Proms 2005). Unfortunately, that version is short.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nm-ISatLDG0

3) Cold Love (from "The Wanderer") – Donna ROCKS. After her Disco era, she wanted to change musical direction (something that had really started with the "Bad Girls" album), going to a more New Wave/Rock sound. Here we have driving guitars, a great hook and again, great vocals that serve the song. I remember hearing this back in 1980 (or so) and being absolutely shocked it was Donna Summer. I also remember absolutely loving it. Only heard it a handful of times back then and tracked it on the Top 40 Countdowns. It got to about #30 or so before sliding off the charts. So, I completely forgot about it until stumbling back upon in December. It kick started memories. One memory of being in a car on a class trip and hearing it come on, and was toe tapping to it. But about halfway through the song, went out of range of the station. Then I was bummed. It's not AC/DC or Led Zeppelin, but it cooks. It's a great little song and in a style I wish she would have done more of. She definitely had the vocal chops for it (I think she actually considered herself a Pop and Rock singer. Her first pro gig was in a Blues Rock band). She was a vocal chameleon and really could sing any modern contemporary style she wanted. This one is proof.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a0pVV1pSDM8

4) State of Independence (from "Donna Summer") – A song originally written by Jon Anderson (of Yes) and Vangelis (of .. well ... Vangelis). It seems to have a slight reggae feel and New Age style lyrics. It is an uplifting number. Again, her voice is just perfect for the song. It slowly builds up over its runtime, adding different layers of instruments along the way that just keep growing. Her voice keeps up with it, never flinching.  In a way, this song is tailor made for her Christian faith. There is a live version (from "A Hot Summer Night with Donna") where she closes the show with it. Her daughter guests sings, starting some of the first verse, before Donna joins her. As the song nears it's end, she adds in the verse from John 3:16 (For God so loved the world .... ). And that drives the point home. To me, that shows what this song really means to her. It is an affirmation of faith. The live versions are great.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_XH9BY-u6jw&list=OLAK5uy_khuyER8zJfzTfLfzycfhle6IZL_xL6YoE&index=5&t=0s

5) There Will Always Be a You (from "Bad Girls") / Sand On My Feet (from "Crayons") - Yes, I know this makes six songs in my top five. Sorry, Common Core math. I don't think Donna gets enough credit for how well she does ballads. Granted most of her songs are upbeat danceable numbers. But her ballads are in another realm. First "There Will Always Be a You". I have to start by saying, this song utterly DESTROYS me. She wrote everything here, music and lyrics. It originates from the aftermath of a bad argument with her then boyfriend (and future husband). Afterwards, she went to a piano and it all just came out. Starts with a haunting, vocal melody, no words, she's just singing notes. Then the piano comes in and plays the same notes. Pitch perfect. She is saying, we may have our ups and downs but you will forever be the love of my life, regardless of what happens, or how bad things get. The music to this song, beautiful, gorgeous and sweet. The producers really did her justice on this one. In an interview, she was asked which of the songs, she had written, was her favorite. This was it. You can tell this song is her baby. I think it is one of, if not the most emotive and heartfelt singing performances she gives on a recording. Haven't found a live version. Some lyrics from the song

"After rainy, stormy weather |

I am yours and you are mine |

Till the stars fall from my eyes |

There will always be a you".

They work better with the music rather than reading them obviously. If you haven't heard this before give it a listen. You can thank me later. This ... song ... utterly ... DESTROYS me.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DBHnPHztmJI&list=OLAK5uy_nOCptCWRNZw_Nfh3lcXx_JCYWLKy-c5Bc&index=11&t=0s

And now "Sand on My Feet", from her last studio album. Let me start by saying, this song utterly DESTROYS me. It's one she cowrote. A very simple production. I think this is on purpose, to be just a song with a simple message. It's a love letter to her husband. This one is acoustic guitar based and it also has lovely music as well. Some context, in the live version she gives some background on the writing. This song was written at her beach home in Florida (this is important for later) and is pretty much the setting. The live version is great by the way. She sings of their life together, that she will love him where ever they are. She is happy to simply be in their home, by the beach (just to be), with him. Beautiful. Sometimes the simple things in life are the most important. She really didn't get enough credit for how good a songwriter she was. The Chorus:

"And it feels like love, and it feels so good | I wanna feel like the roarin' thunder | Wanna be the heaven that your sky is under | Oh, I say, you say, oh (It's like love) | All that I need, baby it's true | The sand on my feet and you"

You really need to hear how she weaves her vocals around those lines. Beautiful. Listen to it. You can thank me later.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kxNszejp99g

live

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K1Cm3klIpKo

Also, here are the last set of lyrics from the song:

"How many lovers | Have walked along the shore before | Before you and I | How many said goodbye"

That last line. There is tragic irony to it. Remember the song was written in her beach home. Donna passed on May 17, 2012, at her beach home in Florida. The same one she wrote this song in. The irony of that last line, in the place she had love for and from her family, where she wrote this beautiful song, on or near the beach. In all likelihood this is home she said goodbye to them. This ... song ... utterly ... DESTROYS me. I adore both of them. Two songs, thirty years apart. One from her peak and the other near the end. Wow ... just Wow. No words.

She has a lot of good songs. I do like a lot of her classics but also some of the lesser known ones. I haven't heard all of her catalog but do have some 'honorable mentions' from the ones I have. "Love to Love You Baby", "Could It Be Magic", "Winter Melody", "I Remember Yesterday", "Breakdown", "I Believe in Jesus", "This Time I Know It's For Real", "When Love Takes Over You" (a fun and cute video), "Heaven's Just a Whisper Away", "Friends Unknown" (a love letter to her fans), "Stamp Your Feet", "The Queen is Back" and "Be Myself Again" (another great ballad). Know it's a lot of honorable mentions and have still forgotten a few.

How the Hell did I miss this for forty plus years???

From my earlier article (see link above if you haven't already) I thought she was the kind of person that would make a really good friend. I found some anecdotal stories from people, randomly running into her at Other Places and Times (sorry, couldn't resist). They are mostly from comments following videos or articles. Just people describing their encounters. I'm telling them from memory as these stories would be hard to dig back up. Some details may be fuzzy but the events are essentially correct.

Story Number 1: A guy is getting on an airline. While entering, he notices a pretty woman sitting in the seat beside his. He takes his seat. Sometime after takeoff. He starts to realize who she may be. They actually start up a conversation, just chit chatting. He asks her where she is going. Her reply, "Going to Miami to see my friend KC."  Anyone from the 70's or early 80's, knows who KC in Miami is. So, now for sure he knows who she is and they continue to talk during the flight. At the end, she gives him some contact info and says, "If your ever in New York, give us a call". Don't know if the Passenger ever did.

Story Number 2: A handicapped person is getting out of his car and into a wheelchair. Apparently, he is having some difficulty and drops his briefcase and items scatter. He soon hears a large SUV type vehicle drive up and hears a woman's voice say, "Do you need help?"  He says he does. When she gets out of the vehicle, he realizes who it is. She helps him gather his things and then gets in the vehicle and drives off as quickly as she arrived.

Story Number 3: A person is walking down the street in a large city.. He hears some music coming from a warehouse and there is a small crowd in front of it, looking inside. Curious he goes over to see whats going on. It is Donna Summer and her band rehearsing a performance for a talk show later in the day. It's supposed to be a closed set. When the song is finished, the small audience claps. Hearing the fanfare, she turns around, see's the small group and bows to them.

Story Number 4: Not an individual story but a concert one. It is the beginning of one of her later tours. Near the start of a show she tells the audience it has been a while and she is nervous. To which someone in the crowd yells, "We love you Donna!!". She smiles and replies to the audience, "Tonight I am all yours." She relaxes and puts on a great show. Her fans LOVED her, and she LOVED her fans (see the song "Friends Unknown").

These anecdotal stories tell me something about the kind of person she was. She could have just ignored a random stranger on a plane, or kept driving past someone in need of help, or gotten snitty with people who were looking in on a closed rehearsal, or not had the respect for her fans to tell them she was afraid of letting them down. A Really .. Good .. Friend.

Stories like these, her music and her kindness .. warmth .. humor and genuineness are Why I Still Miss Donna Summer.

Over the last month and a half, actually engaged in a couple of Donna Summer related activities. At the beginning of March, got the chance to see the touring company for "Summer: The Donna Summer Musical". There were some cheap nosebleed seats available. Fortunately, DPAC doesn't seem to really have any bad seats. So the view of the stage was pretty good, allbeit further away. I had never been to a live musical before, so it was an experience. As for the show itself, the three ladies portraying Donna did a very good job with the songs. They aren't Donna Summer (there are very few singers who are in that ballpark) but they were quite good. Interestingly, "On the Radio" received the largest audience response that night. I almost got a little misty eyed at "Friends Unknown" (almost).  Don't judge. Overall, I found it an enjoyable and entertaining show. Recommended if you are a fan.

Later in March, received a second hand copy of her autobiography "Ordinary Girl: The Journey". She spends time talking about her childhood, living in Europe, the disco era and the time after disco with family life. She talks about her paintings (yes she painted) and life on a farm. She doesn't spend a whole lot on controversial topics. I guess she said all that was needed to be said outside of the book. At the end, she talks about organizing a Broadway show, about her life. That version was not to be. Her reason for writing a book was to be a beacon for others. She suffered from insecurities and low self-esteem when younger and wanted to let anyone know, you to can prevail over any obstacle. It is a good read and I finished it in less than a day, almost 250 pages. Tons of black and white pictures throughout. I really did enjoy it and can recommend for anyone with a passing interest or who (again) is a fan.

Sometimes, I wish there is a way to send a message to myself in the past. Don't we all, lol. Would address mine around 10 to 12 years ago. Tell myself, "You need to go see Donna Summer live in concert". At this point my younger self probably rolls his/my eyes. "I know that now, she is not someone you listen too. But believe your older self when I say, there will come a time when you will appreciate the experience and it will be a memory you can cherish forever."

In closing, this is me putting thoughts down on virtual paper. If you read this, hope you gain some understanding from it. I know quite a few of you out there roll your eyes whenever I make a Donna post, lol. Admittedly, all of this takes place after she left us, and that probably colors my thoughts and perceptions. But, it has been an extraordinary journey, even though at times quite sad. I'll leave one more item here, a link to the song I wrote and produced, an effort to process thoughts and emotions. Some of you have already seen, listened or ignored it, lol. And that is ok. I can only hope she's looking down, hears it and smiles.

https://soundcloud.com/rayphelps-1/donna-summer

This is Why I Still Miss Donna Summer.

April 27, 2020

[overthinkingkdrama]

Old Souls

{A Scarlet Heart: Ryeo fan fiction}

Set immediately after the end of episode 20.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

“…so they asked if I would come touring with them as their sound engineer. It was flattering of course, but I turned them down. If I don’t have creative control of what I’m doing, I’m not sure I could feel passionate about it. Besides, I would have to be away from home for so many months out of the year, you know?”

Jin Woo and Min Ki were holed up in a restaurant, eating together for the first time in weeks. They’d picked a cozy pork belly place they’d been regulars at back in their college days. The middle aged man that ran the place still knew their faces and gave them extra portions when they came in. Min Ki was manning both the grill and the conversation, while Jin Woo’s attention wavered.  Rain was falling heavily outside, and he found his eyes flitting continually between the window and his phone beneath the table.

No new messages.

“You think I made the right decision, though?”

“About…”

“Touring with Three Piece Tracksuit. You know I want to be a working musician, but I want to write my own songs and…hyung, are you listening to me?”

Jin Woo had been looking at the time. Her train should have arrived by now. Was it delayed? Is she not coming back tonight? He realized that Min Ki was looking at him with a smirk on his face. He’d lost the thread of the conversation again. “You’re not even here, are you?”

“I’m sorry. I’m easily distracted tonight. Go on.”

“Forget it. I was just talking about how I like the sound of my own voice, anyway.”

“I really am sorry.” Jin Woo muttered, setting his phone face down on the table and reaching across to pour his friend soju in a conciliatory gesture.

“Don’t worry about it. You’ve got me trained by now.” He pointed to the phone with the pair of tongs. “You two fighting or something?”

“Ha Jin and I don’t fight.” That was true. Fighting was something real couples did. “She’s been in Busan for the last few days visiting her mother. She was supposed to be coming back tonight, but I haven’t heard from her.”

“I wondered why you agreed to eat with me on short notice. I get to see you because she’s out of town.” The words were said kindly, but Jin Woo detected real hurt in Min Ki’s expression.

“That’s not fair. You know the firm has me work all these extra hours. I’ve been busy. Truly.”

“I know. I do know that.”

Jin Woo’s forced “voluntary leave” had finally come to an end, but it was impossible return like nothing had happened. His departure had been as sudden as it was dramatic and of course people would talk. He’d had to scrape and claw just to get back where he’d been two years ago. The old him would have been bothered by the rumors, the loss of his colleagues respect. The new him couldn’t seem to care. If his relationship with his supervisor was showing signs of strain, or if the chatter in the break room seemed to hush when he entered, he hardly had time to notice. His mind was on other things. If it weren’t for all the late nights at the office eating away at his time with Ha Jin, he would hardly waste a thought on his job. It all seemed so trivial to him now.

His colleagues were like strangers, and Jin Woo himself was like a different person. It was as though before Ha Jin had entered his life he’d merely been drifting through his days. A man living under an assumed identity, acting out a minor role in a joyless charade. Now each day was important with a secret meaning. One that only he understood.

Min Ki poured for Jin Woo this time. “Still, I feel like even when I see you these days you’re…somewhere else.”

“You’re the one who used to tell me to stop isolating myself. That I needed to know more people than just you.”

“You’re still isolating yourself. You’re just isolating yourself with a different person.”

“If you would just agree to meet Ha Jin and stop pretending you have plans every time I try to introduce you—”

“I’m perfectly happy to meet Ha Jin. Just as soon as you’re ready to introduce her as your girlfriend and not…whatever this is right now. This wishy-washy in-between bullshit you’ve been playing at for months.”

Jin Woo felt the inevitable fight coming on and deliberately filled his mouth with too much food so he couldn’t retort. This wasn’t new ground they were covering, and he didn’t want them to part angrily.

“You should have gone with her to meet her mother. That’s the next step.”

Jin Woo only shook his head.

After hearing out Jin Woo’s whole, lurid proposal, Ha Jin had kept him waiting for two days. Jin Woo had been petrified of what she would say, but he still didn’t know her number so waiting was all he could do. Just before midnight on the second day she’d called him.

“Yeoboseyo?”

“It’s Ha Jin.” He’d known it before he heard her voice. She’d sounded so small on the other side of the line he almost hadn’t heard when she said, “I miss you.”

He’d thought his heart would burst. “Me too.”

“Can I meet you somewhere?”

Less than an hour later they were in the same corner booth at the same dim bar where she’d walked away from him not too many days before, muddling through the rest of the night from there. Jin Woo hadn’t been a very impressive date. As far as he could recollect afterward, he couldn’t carry a clever or even comprehensible conversation the entire time. He kept lapsing into silence with a foolish smile on his face, continually surprised and relieved that she was there with him, that she wanted to be. But if he seemed stupid or awkward to Ha Jin, she hadn’t let it show. She seemed content, like she shared a little of his relief. As though she too had trouble breathing when they were apart.

After that night, Jin Woo and Ha Jin had continued to see each other. They began to fall into a pattern like normal couples do, though they never felt like a normal couple and didn’t think of themselves as one. There was a host of unspoken rules that hung over them, separating them from other people.

Since the first time they’d slept together, Ha Jin hadn’t spent the night at his place. It wasn’t something they discussed, but it became an uncrossable line. She would always leave before the buses stopped running, or when on occasion that would share a bottle of wine before falling into bed, Jin Woo would call a substitute driver for her. He supposed it would feel too intimate to wake up next to him in the morning. It would make their relationship seem less transactional, like she belonged there.

He could only try to guess what she was thinking, and never pressed her on the matter.

Again, by an unstated pact, they habitually kept their arrangement a secret from other people. Ha Jin never asked Jin Woo to meet her friends, and he didn’t tell her about his family. She wouldn’t call him her boyfriend, and he didn’t correct people when they assumed he was single. How could he answer questions if someone asked about her? Better not to say anything.

Whenever the situation began to weigh on him, he would pretend that he was having an affair with a married woman. That was the reason for all the secrecy, why he couldn’t talk about her, and why she could never spend the night. It became a sort of game to him. Sneaking off to send a surreptitious text, spinning white lies about his weekend plans, and arranging discreet rendezvous for the two of them, as though anybody cared what they did. Somehow the lie he told himself about their torrid affair was more palatable than the truth. It was something that happened in the real world. And it didn’t require a belief in fate or reincarnation or star-crossed lovers searching for each other across time. He couldn’t talk to outsiders about that.

Not even Min Ki.

For a short time, at the beginning, Jin Woo had even tried to keep this secret from his best friend, as though he really was trying to cover up an affair. Jin Woo became like a man trying to avoid his own gaze in the mirror. But Min Ki wasn’t an easy person to keep putting off, nor did he allow himself to be avoided for long.

Eventually it caught up with him. Min Ki had cornered him alone at home late one night. They’d had it out in the kitchen, all of Min Ki’s hurt and disapproval had come rushing out.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m doing what you told me to do.”

“Not me. I never told you to do this. I wanted to get to the bottom of what’s happened to you. Not throw away your curiosity and your hope in pursuit of a girl.”

“Is that what I’m doing?”

“Sure what it looks like.”

Jin woo had opened his mouth to defend himself, but Min Ki went on, “I’ve never see you so utterly lost before. I mean, do you have any reason to think she feels the same way about you?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“How can it not matter?” He raised his voice again, “You told me yourself she isn’t even interested in you for you. She wants someone who looks like you. Doesn’t that disturb you?”

“I told her I didn’t care about that.”

“What will you do when she loses interest? What will you do then? You’ll be right back where you started. Worse off.”

“I can’t afford to worry about that right now. The only thing that helps is her. The only time I’m not in pain is when I’m with her. She makes the nightmares go away. She…fixes it.”

Jin Woo wasn’t so far beyond saving that I didn’t realize how messed up what he was saying was. He understood that horrified look in Min Ki’s eyes. He understood entirely. But he’d made up his mind about what he would do and nothing is friend said—no matter how reasoned or self-evident—was going to shake his resolution.

Min Ki seemed to understand he wasn’t going to change anything, and the frustration had sent the blood rushing into his face. He poured himself a glass of water from the fridge. After several minutes of sustained silence, he spoke from across the room.

“I realize you want to go back to normal, you think this is the way to do it, but this isn’t normal. You’re running away. You’re terrified, I see it. Just…stop hiding things from me. Call me when it all falls apart and I help you pick up the pieces.”

He set his glass down on the counter with a snap, not looking into Jin Woo’s face he said, “I’ll see myself out.”

For a few days after that fight, Jin Woo wondered if Min Ki had really given up on him. But of course he hadn’t. He was back at Jin Woo’s apartment, letting himself in and going through his cupboards like he owned the place, before too long.

Jin Woo knew Min Kin was still worried. He probably had reason to worry. He was distrustful of Ha Jin and for a time actively avoided bringing her up in conversation. Jin Woo didn’t know how to convince his friend that Ha Jin’s intentions weren’t malicious. All Min Ki could see was a cold, elusive girl who only wanted to use him. He didn’t know Ha Jin in all her fragility. He had never felt her crying noiselessly in the dark. She wasn’t cold, she was wounded. She was every bit as terrified as Jin Woo himself. But it was foolish to expect Min Ki to understand. He would just have to keep the two parts of his life separate and hope he could make it up to his friend someday.

When they’d finished their meal and paid, Min Ki and Jin Woo stood beneath an awning looking out at the rain, still coming down in heavy sheets. Neither had thought to bring an umbrella. Min Ki mused aloud whether it would be better to wait it out or make a run for the bus shelter. They stayed as they were.

Jin Woo was looking at his phone again. He’d sent Ha Jin a text that said, “Call me when you get a chance. I just want to make sure you get in okay.” Now he was regretting it. It sounds a little domestic. What if she takes it the wrong way? But he couldn’t very well follow it up with something flippant. Not that I’m worried about you. I don’t worry about you. Forget you saw this. That would be absurd.

Min Ki was quiet, and Jin Woo thought he’d hurt his feelings. He was getting phantom vibrations from a phone call that wasn’t coming. He knew if they went home now he’d just keep doing the same thing. Driving himself crazy.

He said, “You want to go for a second round? I’ll pay.”

They walked around the block and found a pojangmacha. Ducking under the orange tent flap Jin Woo ordered two more bottles of soju and tried to think of something to talk about that might distract them both, with little success.

As the evening wore on it became clear that Min Ki was far outpacing Jin Woo on consumption. He’d been anxious and distracted, eaten very little, and held his full glass in his hand for minutes on end while Min Ki drank down shot after shot. An hour later Jin Woo was almost sober, while his friend sat red faced and pitched forward in his seat.

“Come on.” Jin Woo said, standing, pulling some bills out of his wallet and paying the halmeoni running the stand before help his friend to his feet. “Let’s get you home.”

Outside the rain was still coming down but not so heavily, streaming in rivulets over the stiff plastic tent as they plotted their next move.  Min Ki began feeling over his clothes, looking for something, finally fishing out a brand new pack of cigarettes which he freed from their thin plastic packaging to place one, unlit in him mouth.

“When did you start smoking again?” It was a habit Min Ki had picked up during college, but kicked a few years before after frequent nagging.

“I haven’t. I just…only when I’m anxious.”

Jin Woo thought, what has you so anxious, my friend? But he couldn’t ask. He didn’t want to hear his suspicions confirmed aloud.

Min Ki was searching his pockets again, frowning. Clearly not finding what he wanted, he asked, “You have a light?”

“You know I don’t.”

Finally, Min Ki flicked the damp cigarette into a nearby puddle, “Screw it.”

It was only a quarter past 11 and they caught a bus back. Min Ki hunkered down in the seat beside him and leaned his head against Jin Woo’s shoulder, arms crossed over his chest. Jin Woo didn’t mind. He looked out the window at the city lights and let his mind wander.

He thought Min Ki had fallen asleep, so it surprised him when he said, “Have you tried to find out? I mean, what stated all of this. In the past.”

It would have been easy to misunderstand the slurred question, but Jin Woo said, “No.”

“Go Ha Jin, she…hasn’t told you anything? What about that professor fellow?”

“I haven’t asked her. And I haven’t been back to see him.”

“Are you really not curious?”

“It’s not that. It’s just…I have this feeling that she would cry if I asked her. That perhaps she’s hiding it for my own good.” Jin Woo didn’t know why he was answering Min Ki’s questions now. He supposed he was feeling honest.

“Doesn’t that bother you? The idea that she knows something she isn’t telling. I mean, maybe she did something wrong. Maybe she betrayed you. Isn’t possible that if you knew, you wouldn’t want to be with her anymore?”

Jin Woo was silent for a long time. So long that Min Ki sat up and studied his expression, suddenly not seeming so far gone. His face was serious, concerned.

“I spoke out of turn.” He said, apologetic.

“It’s fine. Don’t be sorry.” Jin Woo paused thinking about how to explain. “Back when you took me to see the mudang, I didn’t believe anything she said. But lately I keep replaying her words in my head. She said there was a lot of blood between Ha Jin and me. And it made a bad end…Ha Jin doesn’t say much but I’ve guessed enough to know that’s true. Whatever happened, it casts a long shadow…I’m afraid to ask what and why. No matter how much I want to know—to be there for her—if I press too hard we’ll lose even what we have now. I don’t know if it’s worth that.”

The bus brakes squealed as they came to an abrupt stop and the doors swung opened. It was their stop.

They got off. It had finally stopped raining and the two of them walked around outside Jin Woo’s building for a little while, finishing the conversation from the bus.

Min Ki occasionally lost his train of thought, or muddled his words, but his ideas were surprisingly cogent for as much as he’d had to drink.

He said, “We hold on to things we care about, the people we love so tightly that sometimes we sabotage our own happiness. We think—we falsely think that if we don’t change then the people we love won’t change either. We believe that if we live that way we won’t get hurt, through sheer grit and willpower. But that’s nonsense, hyung. The world keeps on spinning. Nothing stays in one place for long. For better or worse, things can’t remain as they are.” He took a deep breath, trailing off, “What was I saying?”

“About Ha Jin and me?”

“Right…right. I just think, if you want to know what happened way back then, you should find out for yourself. The past isn’t going to go away just because you ignore it. It came to find you in the first place, remember? If you run away, it will keep hounding you. And if you want more from your relationship with Ha Jin, you have to take a step forward first. If you live your whole life in fear of people abandoning you, that’s not going to make them stay. That’s how you end up alone. And…no matter what happens, I’ll be here. We’re soul mates, after all.”

“You see,” Jin Woo said, with a smirk as they got to his door, “This is why I don’t like hanging out with you.”

“Why? Because I’m always right?”

“Yeah.” He said it with a sigh and a sad smile. “You want to come up? You can crash here if you like.”

“Nah, I have to get going.”

Min Ki seemed a little lighter when they parted ways than he’d been when they met. But Jin Woo’s heart was still heavy.

Alone in his apartment Jin Woo tried to put the conversation with Min Ki from his mind, but his words continued to intrude on his thoughts. One phrase in particular:

“Nothing stays in one place for long. For better or worse, things can’t remain as they are.”

When that happens, what am I going to do? He honestly couldn’t think of an answer. That was how he knew he was in trouble and Min Ki was right. He couldn’t picture himself after this was over, and he was finding it increasingly difficult to remember what he was like before it started. He couldn’t form an image in his mind of the person he used to be. All he could do was hold on to what he had now with white-knuckled intensity.

Still, as hard as he tried he couldn’t catch hold of her. Even with her laying beneath his hands, he couldn’t grasp her. She was distant to him as the moon. And her body was only a narrow aperture through which he sometimes glimpsed Ha Jin’s true face. He longed to reach her somehow, to close that gulf between them. But he felt how malleable their connection was. Even now. How impossibly soft she became when they were alone. He didn’t know how he would do it, but he felt that he would inevitably break her if she ever let him in.

He was still lonely. He couldn’t blame that on Ha Jin, or Min Ki, or these new circumstances. He’d always been like this. He couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t felt it. The only difference was it used to be so much more bearable. Now, he wondered if this was the grudge he carried with him from his past lives, his punishment.

At times, when Jin Woo looked at Ha Jin, he felt that alien love threatening to overwhelm him with light and heat. A love that contained distant suns and galaxies. A love that would burn down empires for her. A love that had. And he didn't know how that feeling could exist within him, it was so far removed from anything he had ever known or imagined, but he felt it nonetheless.

The feeling frightened him, the way it would rise up of its own accord, without warning. And when it did, it seemed like he was capable of anything. Any impossible, horrible thing.

When this happened Jin Woo wondered if it was really him or someone else looking out at her through his eyes. The line between Lee Jin Woo and Wang So had grown alarmingly hazy of late. Not all of his emotions were authentic to him, that he was sure of. Some of them were artificial, borrowed, injected. But then…so what? So what if she was in love with someone else? He was the one beside her. And so what if this love that burned through him was a stolen fire, usurped from a king who had died a thousand years ago? Did that make the feeling any less real?

It sure seemed real enough.

He sat in his armchair, reclining slightly. Home shopping was flashing mutely on the television, and his phone was in his hand. He had started sobering up and he felt the warning pressure behind his eyes, the first signs of the coming hangover. Putting on and putting off these thoughts like old clothes well worn-in, he dozed off.

He dreamed of the cold, the first and answering howls of the pack of hungry wolves encircling him. He was too small, too weak, to defend himself. All he could do was build a fire among the roots of a great tree. The only thing in Shinju he’d dared to love. And he was burning it down just to survive.

The phone buzzing in his hand rescued him the nightmare. It was a few rings before he could focus his eyes and read the name that had flashed on the screen. There were tears on his cheeks.

Ha Jin was calling. He answered.

“Hey,” Her voice was soft and tired, but it was a balm for his aching heart.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“I’m fine. My phone died on the train. I’m sorry I worried you.”

“No, it’s okay. I’m glad you made it in safely. Are you at home now?”

“Yeah. I don’t think I’m going to unpack anything tonight. I’m just going to fall into bed.”

“That’s good. Get some rest.”

“I will. Goodnight.”

“Sweet dreams. I love you.”

The last three words slipped out of his mouth, before he realized they were hiding there. He’d disconnected the call before he could gauge her reaction. The awareness of what he’d just done hit him like shot of adrenaline. He was wide awake.

It was the first time he’d said that to her, and it had been an accident. He should have been mortified, and yet he found he didn’t regret those words at all. Because they were true.

[Chapter 7]

[fluffydragon85]

You’re at least a little bit cold right now. You would decline if the last person you kissed proposed to you. You’ve shaved your legs in the past 24 hours. The last person you called knows your parents. ‘I love you’ was said in your last relationship. Your best friend is in love. There is food in your room right now. Your friends like your current bf/gf/crush. You always forget to put your seatbelt on. You text the person you like. Your birthday is past the 10th of its month. You’ve had a bf/gf forget your birthday. Chicken soup really does make you feel better when you’re sick. You celebrated the one month in your last relationship. Your best friend has had their heart broken recently. You usually eat supper with your family. You’ve fallen for a friends’ bf/gf before. You’d rather eat fries over salad. You’re a really good gift buyer. You’ve had a cat/dog who had kittens/puppies. You accept every friend request whether you know them or not. You can’t sleep without a blanket. You need very particular conditions to sleep. You’d be comfortable going to the last person you kissed in sweats with no makeup and your hair a mess. You bought what you wore today in the past couple of weeks. You’d be able to name all of Santa’s reindeer. You’ve spent HOURS getting prettied up for someone. It takes you forever to pick out outfits for dates. You’ve been friends with someone who moved to a different country. Cafeteria food really is gross. You’ve given someone a hickey before. If you could, you’d start your life over right now. You’ve cried in front of the person you have feelings for. There is someone who makes you smile just thinking about them. You’ve found a friend’s mom/dad very good looking before. You’d rather live without TV than without makeup. You’d rather live without your parents than without your siblings. Someone has once told you you’re the most important person in their life. You’ve worn a matching Halloween costume with someone before. Your hair is in need of a wash right now. You know that someone has feelings for you right now. You believe you’ve met your soul mate already. You know what you’re being for Halloween already. Someone calls you cute/beautiful/etc on a daily basis. There were other people there during your last kiss. You’ve kissed someone right after they smoked pot. You’ve dated someone at work, broke up, and had VERY awkward times there. You can see some kind of liquid from where you’re sitting. You’ve been set up on a HORRIBLE blind date before. The last person you hugged is single. You’ve seen the last person you texted drunk. Your last relationship was ended pretty much mutually. You wouldn’t date someone much younger than you. You know someone but only their last name  Your grandparents are way too nosy. You’ve talked to a huge bitch in the past 24 hours. The last person you laughed with is in love. You have blonde streaks through your hair. You often wear ripped jeans. When going out, you wear really low-cut shirts. You’ve cheated before. And it made you realize how much you loved your boyfriend. You’re extremely blunt. You’ve been known as a tease. You’re not a bitch unless it’s necessary. You take things really personal sometimes. If a guy screws up one time, you say you’re done. You have hair extensions or have used them before. You wear heels with booty shorts. You have out-played a player. You wear glasses at night. You’ve intentionally made a significant other jealous. By getting another guy’s number in front of him. You’re really short. You and your mom are really close. You have been hit by a guy. You have been hit by a girl. You stand up for your friends no matter what. After a break-up, you haven’t been able to move on for a really long time. You’ll dance anywhere at any given time. You’re obsessed with pickles. You’ve been hit on by a guy who already had a girlfriend. You’ve been fired from a job. You always speak your mind, no matter how bitchy you may seem. You find it easier to give up in tough situations. When going on vacations, you pack your shit in garbage bags instead of a suitcase. You call yourself by a nickname that has to do with a celebrity. You scream to get your point across the majority of the time. You’re always in other peoples’ business, and you don’t care. You’ve been guilty of cock-blocking before. Fun is not something you’re a fan of.

*****

I’m related to my best friend. I love getting inked. Almost every song reminds me of something/someone. I haven’t traveled much in my life. I have a dailybooth account. I hate when people act like whoever they’re around. Get fucking real. I don’t like taking showers at night. Procrastination is my middle name. I watch My Life as Liz on MTV. I recently got something back I lent to someone. I’ve been to the beach within the past week. I fell asleep watching a movie last night. I really like the band Circa Survive. I use my Twitter everyday. No one ever asks me anything on formspring. I can roll joints like a pro. I’ve been taking a lot of pictures lately. I love seeing cute guys. I don’t like it when people get drunk and call/text me. I hate when my stomach growls in a quiet room. I burp all the time, I don’t think it’s gross at all. I’m missing someone I know I shouldn’t. I watch Intervention. I’m always drinking Coca-Cola. I need to start working out. I hate seeing someone I used to know and having to make awkward small talk. Honestly, I don’t give a shit about politics. The tattoo healing process sucks balls. I’m allergic to my pets. I need some food, pronto. I don’t obsess over celebrities. I don’t look like any celebrities. I like rap music, but I’m not all about it. Going to concerts or shows doesn’t really appeal to me. Someone recently texted me that I’ve been avoiding. I don’t really like having a boyfriend, I like being single most of the time. I hate when I see someone I knew and they completely avoid me. I look a lot different now than I did in middle school. I listen to A Skylit Drive. I watch the show Hoarders, and I’d cry if I lived in a house like that. I can easily relate to people’s situations. Every time I say or hear the word ‘situation’ I think of Mike “The Situation”. I’m a fan of that on Facebook. The thought of contacts makes me want to gag. I think I need glasses.

*****

I have driven under the influence I have quit a job I have dyed my hair a completely different color from my natural I have stayed on the phone longer than 3 hours with a boyfriend I have used a Snuggie I have stayed up for more than 48 hours straight I have had a close friend turn into a complete bitch I have read the books Crank & Glass I have been utterly disgusted by what I saw in the mirror I have worn Bullhead jeans I have painted my nails neon colors I have bobbed for apples I have cried just from wanting something to happen so badly I have researched about drugs on the internet I have worn a fur coat I have lived in the same country my whole life I have spent an entire day and night on the computer I have stayed up late working on something for school I have creeped on Facebook/MySpace I have had a fake ID I have rode around late at night with a bunch of friends, drunk/high I have worn clogs I have worn Uggs I have eaten banana pancakes I have owned stuff from Bath & Body Works I have worn a scarf during the spring or summertime I have hooked up with a random guy while on vacation I have eaten fried Twinkies I have eaten fried Oreos I have ridden a roller coaster I have woken up with a really dry or sore throat I have hiked a mountain I have rock climbed I have gone skydiving I have pretended to like something I didn’t I have pretended to like someone I didn’t I have been nice just to spare feelings I have jogged 2 miles straight I have stayed in my pajamas all day long I have failed an important class I have drank something other than champagne out of a champagne glass I have watched ‘80s TV shows I have beaten a high score on a video game I have been taller than 5'4” I have carved my name into something. I have played at a playground over the age of 13. I have gotten a ‘brain freeze’ I have been to Cabela’s I have been to Ron Jon’s Surf Shop I have written longer than a 5 page paper I have intentionally started a fight with someone I have seen a comedian live I have seen my favorite band live I have organized everything in my room before

*****

I’m on the phone. I’m on the phone with a guy friend. My hair is wet. My hair wrapped up in a towel, turban-style. I just got out of the shower. I’m in the living room. The TV is on in the room I’m in. A reality show is currently on. I have a hair tie around my wrist. I am not texting anybody. I’m wearing pajamas. I’m not listening to music. I’m on a laptop. My laptop is plugged in and charging. My toenails are painted. My fingernails aren’t painted. I’m wearing deodorant. I’m drinking water. My cell phone is within reach. I’m not hungry. I’m not sleepy. I’m thinking about someone. I laughed within the past few minutes. I’m on my period. My house smells like coffee. I’m wearing a white shirt. My pants are plaid pajama pants. I’m not wearing socks. I’m not wearing a bra. I’m not wearing a bracelet or necklace. Something on my body itches. I’m procrastinating. I have a zit on my back. I’m sitting on the sofa. My mom is within my line of vision. The light is on in the room I’m in. I should be doing something else. I should be doing school-related stuff. Today is Thursday. It’s night time. It’s dark outside. I’m thirsty. I’m sitting in a comfortable position. My ankles are crossed. My hair isn’t in a ponytail. There’s a song stuck in my head. I’m looking forward to something. My lips aren’t chapped.