#anyway very esoteric rant but here we are

[legobiwan]

Esoteric thought for the day: the Super Paper Mario menu screen theme is textbook modal mixture (bIII, bVI, N6 chords) and I am already salivating at the idea of including this in future theory class curriculum.

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

Yes, my Vast!Jon fic features Archivist!Sasha. Whaddaya gonna do about it?

Part Four.

Oh. Oh, I am doing things with this fic.

I may never be forgiven.

P. S. Yes, Jon lists his middle name as "K" because he uses Kartin.

He and Martin grew up together. It means a lot, and no one in this world will ever know but the two of them.

----------

I’m alive.

Martin stares at the text from a blocked number, speechless.

Across from him, Danny’s date - Sasha James - is still talking about Jonathan Sims and the spider-leg illusion.

Which was distracting enough.

Martin had already been distracted by the fact that Tim and Sasha immediately got on like wildfire, and that Danny honestly seemed not to care, which Martin would never understand.

He had already been distracted by the fact that he (as always) found himself talking about Jon, just constantly doing it, and Sasha was simply polite until he mentioned the photography.

“You don’t mean Jonathan K. Sims, who works for the National Rage,” she’d said, clearly expecting him to disavow it.

But of course, he hadn’t because that’s who Jon was.

“The young Steve McCurry. You’re serious?”

Martin was.

Which revelation started a rant.

Okay, it wasn’t a rant, exactly. It was, however, a deeply enthusiastic appreciation of a body of work including photos Martin had forgotten existed. 

And it was always so weird to hear people talk about Jon like that. He was amazing, sure, but… people who met Jon tended not to talk about him like that anymore.

“And we actually have his infamous first photo at the institute,” Sasha says. “The spider-leg illusion. Can you believe it?”

“How’d you get that?” Martin asks, horrified because he’d thought that photo had been destroyed.

Then he’d gotten the text, and missed the answer.

Because it -

No.

Someone was pranking him. Because why the fuck would Jon have reached out like this?

“Hey,” says Tim, and nudges him. “You okay?”

“Weird text. It’s nothing,” says Martin, and tucks his phone away. “How’d you get the photo?”

“Estate sale,” says Sasha proudly. “It was one of my first acquisitions for the Institute as Head Archivist.”

“Right, so… how does that work?” says Martin.

His phone buzzes again.

What do they want me to do? I can’t reply to an unknown number, he thinks.

“The Magnus Institute is an academic institution dedicated to researching the esoteric and paranormal,” she says. “I mean, we’re not ghost-hunters, or anything. We research the unknown. It’s all really academic and dry.” She laughs. “Most of the time, anyway. Though of course, there are some… mysteries.” Her eyebrows waggle.

His phone buzzes.

Tim laughs. “Gods, you make me want to work there.”

“Well, why not? The pay is actually pretty good, and the benefits are solid. It can be spooky, sometimes, but it’s honestly fun most of the time. I mean, if you’re into learning things.”

Tim looks like he’s into something here, all right, and it’s not spooks.

Danny glances at Martin. “You okay? You look… pale.”

“Yeah, I… hang on.” Martin sighs and checks his phone.

Oh. It wasn’t texts.

He’s had an alert set up for years now to let him know whenever Jon made the news. 

(He had, in fact, a private collection of screenshotted articles praising Jon’s skill, the power of his photos, the way he always managed to see things no one else could, and through his lens, let others see them, too.)

“He’s alive!” Martin blurts.

“What? How?” Tim says, and immediately crowds him.

“What?” says Sasha.

SOLE SURVIVOR OF TIBETAN CRASH FOUND

“He… what?” says Sasha, very pale. “No. He was in that flight? The one - oh, gods, of course. The expedition to that abnormal subgroup just discovered - the ones with the genetic adaptation for hemoglobin-binding capacity and nitric oxide production. Of course, Jonathan Sims would be sent in as photographer.” 

Then she looks really surprised.

“You looked into it?” says Danny.

“No, I… I’m not sure how I knew that.” Sasha looks a little confused. “Anyway. Nobody could capture their lives better than Sims. I hadn’t realized…”

Martin is ignoring everybody.

Tears are streaming down his face. He’s shaking.

Reading.

“They found him,” he says. “He’s in a hospital in Kathmandu. He’s coming home. He… he’s coming home.” And Martin loses it.

Tim holds him.

Danny pats his hand.

“Whoa,” murmurs Sasha.

“They’re close,” says Danny, unnecessarily.

“Should I…” Sasha nods her head toward the cafe’s exit.

“No, it’s fine, it’s fine, I’m sorry,” Martin says, wiping his face, ruining his napkin. “I didn’t mean to cause drama, I…”

“Drama? You didn’t cause drama! You… I mean, you’re obviously close? And I wouldn’t be okay if someone I knew had disappeared in a plane crash?” Sasha’s leaning in.

Martin really is good at reading people, no matter how confusing the sea captain had been. He believes her. “Thank you,” he whispers.

“What’s it say?” says Tim. 

“I think he just answered that,” says Danny.

“No, you dork. I mean… specifics. How’d he survive? How’d he get to a hospital in a major city? Who found him? Is he fucked up? The really important question: does he still have leg hair?”

“Tim!” says Danny.

But Martin is laughing. “You screwball, what are you saying?”

“Maybe he’s bald now,” Tim says. “Everywhere. He’s coming back as Baby Jon.”

Martin laughs more. The tears are still coming, but it’s all been redirected via the power of complete absurdity. He wipes his face. “There is something really wrong with you, you know that?”

“Yep!” says Tim. “For real, though - when’s he coming home?”

“Three days, according to this. There’s this whole… thing. He’ll be interviewed, it looks like. From the article, nobody else survived.” 

That’s terrible.

Jon loves his crew. 

Loved.

Martin had come to like them quite a lot. They’d become like the family Jon didn’t have. People who understood how weird he was, and how brilliant he was, and could handle his moods and his prickliness and bring out his best.

They were all dead?

Oh, that was gonna take a while to work through. For everybody.

Tim hugs him. “I told you he’d be okay.”

Martin’s shoulders shake. He cries into Tim’s shoulder, just a little.

Danny proceeds to buy them shots of whiskey. “To Jon!” he says.

“To love!” says Tim.

“To Jon,” says Martin, but he’s really repeating Tim.

Danny buys them all another round.

Three shots in, Sasha is practically vibrating. “When he’s better, do you think I can meet him? I have so many questions about the spider illusion.”

“Sure!” says Martin, who never would have agreed four shots ago. “He’s great. The best guy who ever… anything.” Martin considers this. “Yeah. Yeah.”

“By which he means, Jon’s a hedgehog,” says Tim, who doesn’t sound like he’s six shots in, but he never sounds drunk. “Crunky on the outside. Soft belly.”

“That’s not your belly,” says Martin.

“To… touch?” says Tim, trying to translate.

Martin goes beet red and finishes his whiskey.

Sasha is still giggling at them both when they all say goodnight.

#

The alcohol has to be the reason he clicks it.

The link. The one from the QR code on that sea captain’s card.

Why not, really? Jon’s coming home (with or without hair), and it’s not like anything else matters.

To Martin’s surprise, it brings up a link specifically for him.

LucasEntertainment.co.uk is a vague website, promising “results” and “synchronicity” and other empty buzzwords, but this code carried a unique identifier for Martin alone.

Hello, Mister Blackwood! It says, followed by several screenshots of him in apron and lip gloss, beaming away. We are a consortium of people deeply interested in promoting individual talent - and no, this is not a form letter. We’ve chosen you.

“Yeah, right,” he says out loud.

What we want to do, Mister Blackwood, is sponsor you.

Martin snorts.

Yes, we’d ask to change your format a little, but not much - and what you give to the world, to your viewers, is the true goal of our proposal. You haven’t heard of us, but you have heard of - 

And it proceeds to name several YouTubers whom Martin has definitely heard of - the cream of the crop, primo influencers, whose private lives may be hidden from the world, but whose videos always make numbers in six figures or higher.

If you are willing to work with us, we’d offer you this:

And then comes a number he has to squint at for a while before he’s sure he’s reading it right.

This can’t be.

It would be more than enough to pay for his mother’s expenses.

He could tell Antoine to fuck himself.

He could move into a real apartment that wasn’t probably illegal.

This couldn’t be real.

We know this comes as something of a shock, but we make it our goal to prioritize and promote individual talent - those people who are willing to make their way alone against a willful world.

Feel free to ignore this, of course - there is no pressure. But if you decide to take our offer, Mister Blackwood, we can promise that your videos will reach people who never would have otherwise seen you, and will have an enormous effect.

We hope you’ll say yes.

Sincerely, the Lukas Family

Specifically, Peter, who first recognized what you can do.

Martin stares.

He rereads it.

He squints, changes his browser to night mode, and reads it again.

This simply can’t be right. He bakes muffins, for crying out loud.

But that monetary number….

That amount of money would change everything for him, in the best possible way.

For a moment, he goes wild, imagining being able to travel with Jon for his shoots, paying his own way, maybe sharing a hotel room, sitting on a beach under the moon and sipping Mai Tais, maybe stealing a little kiss where none of the team could see - 

Martin giggles like a besotted teenager and cups his face, which feels hot in his hands.

Right. This should not be decided tonight. He’d had too many shots, courtesy of Danny.

Which he does not regret at all, because Jon’s coming home.

But if this is real…

If it actually is real, and he could stop slaving for money and actually do what he enjoys….

If.

Tomorrow is a good day for questions like that.

Tonight, Martin closes the browser (because, he tells himself, if the QR code doesn’t work tomorrow, then it absolutely wasn’t legit), and he takes a shower, and he goes to bed.

And he dreams of Jon being bald and cranky, and it makes him want to touch Jon even more, and most of his dreams are simply holding Jon and telling him never to almost die again.

[junekomeiji]

writing a longpost about my views on tumblr on the internet

i've been meaning to write a long post anyways some day anyway and i'd honestly like to continue writing long, deranged rants and essays i find interesting

the kind of content that i like and the kind of person that i want to present myself as online lies at a weird and uncomfortable intersection between various fields. on the one hand, i do like being publically horny and basically nsfw posting (i do have an actual honest to god nsfw twitter, iykyk) and discussing about deranged fetishes, especially of the very problematic sort (think lolisho, misgen, raceplay etc etc), randomly posting nikke ecchi and so forth. on the other hand, i am but a devoted computer scientist, and would like to talk about my very technical interests (think complexity theory, programming language theory, algebraic geometry etc etc) but at the same time, mixing the two would scare off most if not all people from my weird site of the internet, defeating the point of social media, which is to meet likeminded people with similar interests. computer scientists and kinksters are an extremely endangered species where i'm from, having effectively been completely expelled from the country in a bid to preserve political stability. it worked, but what we're left with is a programmer shortage so drastic it's effectively stunted the national economy.

the most infuriating part about all this is that i know a lot of computer scientists are very into both, it's just that the twain shall never meet for… reasons. the only place where i can find that kind of authenticity is the more esoteric parts of plt twitter, where most of the theory b people are traumaqueers and dollposters and it feels infuriating you're not allowed to say it out loud. it's like one of those conversations where i know you Know, and you know i Know, but we don't know that the other party Knows, so the conversation becomes incredibly awkward as both sides attempt to shuffle out of the topic like talking about it will set you on fire. i'd honestly really like to talk to those kinds of people but alas i am not nearly knowledgable enough to talk with them as if we were equals, much more my lack of development and programming experience and empty github page means I'm Fucked when it comes to actually being on pace with the rest of them. but for now at least, i really wish that i could be the weirdo i yearn to be on this side of the internet where i can be both a deranged fetishist as well as a computer scientist.

why not just make an nsfw sideblog? because it just doesn't feel like me. i guess one of the more unique and offputing aspects of me is that i refuse to hide any aspect of myself before others, the rose, the whole rose, and nothing but the rose. i don't like making friends with people to whom i have to hide aspects of myself towards because my life requires me to be effectively a different person once i leave the computer, and i don't want to expend anymore energy suppressing myself than i already do. perhaps it is because of my autism, but i really feel that online we should be the weird little critters we wish to be, regardless of what censors think about it. it's maddening as well to see that screaming hateful thoughts at minorities will put you less at risk of getting hurled and jeered off the internet than horny thoughts, especially while you're queer. i guess that's the internet today especially with how US-centric it is (which is something i'd like to talk about later since protestantism and its ethics made the internet what it is today), but it is sad to know that even here i still have fears of being myself

for now at least that's my first long posts. i hope that finally this time i will get into the habit of writing my thoughts and you know, actually using the microblogging platform for blogging.

[borisbubbles]

ESC2021: 32. Georgia

Tornike Kipiani - “You”

Semifinal 2, #10

Yeah, I don’t like Tornike this year! Tragique, I knowww! Though we have *already* arrived at that section of the ranking where I’m not per se bored by the songs and can even appreciate certain aspects, but the overall package is a blistering meh.

There was a chance I could have liked him though! I liked “Take me as I am” last year and I was hoping for something... more extreme! Like a deep plunge into a second coming of Kocharov-tinged krazy! Even the description of “a mix of rock, pop rock and blues rock” seemed promising! Tornike being that awkward autistic kid with no friend in the playground who proudly disturbs the other children by showing off his pebble collection. <3 

Anyway, what we got was “You”, which is a mixed bag [of rocks]. On one hand, the trippy, experimental, atmospheric soundtrack . ❤  On the other, the cloying lyrics 💔 and anemic pacing despite being uptempo?? 💔. I care more about [bad] lyrics than the average person does, but what on earth is this “SUNSHINE I WANNA TOUCH YOU” crap?? You can definitely better than “Incel Nursery Rhyme”, Tornike Turnpike, wtf!

I can derive SOME theortical bemusement from “You” however. 

Firstly, the basics  -predictably- absolutely loathed “You” on first impact (I did too btw lmfao <3 Never claimed I wasn’t basic.) and it pissed off Tornike so much he lost his marbles and  went on a facebook tirade about how all the haters should get fucked in the ear, how their mums must’ve already been fucked up the ear during their pregnancy to account for their offpsring’s damaged hearing (or something like that??) EPIC RANT KING coming for YOU *annnnd* UR MUM <3

Which 😍😍😍 The song’s certainly not for me, but MAJOR props to Georgia (um, or just Tornike I guess) owning up to the fact they’re doing their own thing and aren’t placating the fans!! Go be fucked up in the ear elsewhere, cunts!!!

Secondly, I love the pathos of “You” being a Eurovision equivalent of one my fave The Muppets Show sketches:

I love how Tornike manages to emulate both the Hugga Wugga muppet AND the You Are My Sunshine muppet at once <3 and you thought the thumbnail didn’t go beyond a mere skin-deep resemblance. 😏

All in all, “You” not a song I care about at all (I like some aspects, dislike others, what gives?), but I can definitely derive some enjoyment from the extraneous factors at least!  

Predicted Journey - Georgia

Georgia performed 10th in the semi three years ago. They finished dead last then. 🤐

I don’t *think* that will happen this time though - Sabotage Baptiste is doing Tornike’s staging this year (I believe?) and she does not settle for last place. [Watch her give him the same staging she gave Clara Klingenström in Melfest this year as I type this. (lol I totally forgot SJB did Tamara too until now <3 nvm, it may very well suck)]

However, even though Georgia are competent stagers (Lest we forget the near-miracle they pulled on Oto in Tel Aviv), they are often, if not always let down by their, um, esoteric and niche song choices that fail to connect at a broader level. “You” is no different in that regard, and while its qualities hold up in studio (it’s a trippy, immersive track after all), I doubt it can provide similar vibes on a giant ass stage.

Either way, I believe Georgia are going NQ regardless of any staging upsets. They have no allies (the country closest to Georgia in that semi might be... Bulgaria? Moldova? Poland? lmfao), no diasporia votes and their standing with the televoters especially is subzero. Georgia take up a comfortable NQ Fodder spot alongside Portugal, Poland and (if there is any justice upon this Earth) Austria. But they may do a little bit better than expected with the juries (as in: qualify with them, and while stranding btm2 in the televote) 

Projected placement > Qualifier Tier: Dead on Arrival > Semifinal: 12th-17th (out of 17)

THE RANKING

01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. 09. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. GEORGIA - Tornike Kipiani - “You” 33. PORTUGAL - The Black Mamba - “Love is on my side” 34. SPAIN - Blas Cantó - “Voy a quedarme” 35. NORWAY - Tix - “Fallen Angel” 36. CYPRUS - Elena Tsagrinou - “El Diablo” 37. AUSTRIA - Vincent Bueno - “Amen” 38. NORTH MACEDONIA - Vasil - “Here I stand” 39. GERMANY - Jendrik - “I don’t feel hate”

[bufflessbodney]

Hi Dr, I was doing some research into vitamins for my sciatica and came across mention of a supplement I used to take up until right before my first manic episode by the name of rhodiola so I checked and found an article that said it can cause mania. Then I looked into two others I was taking, and, same deal: green coffee supplements which I was taking for energy and maca root powder which to be honest I took in abundance at probably three times the recommended dose, as well as the energy drinks ..being as I had never had a manic episode before I had no idea I was setting myself up for anything; I have had severe chronic muscular pain in my entire body since the age of 20, diagnosed as fibromyalgia -but then one Dr said it wasn't but she did not do nearly as elaborate an assessment as the first- and as a single mom I felt very depleted and lethargic much of the time so I was trying to boost my energy levels and it was working. Then I went on a vacation and to look for housing as we were planning to move, and it was the very first time away from my kids (other than the brief interlude between when my sons were stolen and when my daughter was born which was only a matter of months) and at my friend's house where I was staying (___) so I was unable to sleep for the majority of the time, a nap here and there, and things just got weirder cuz it was a house of partiers and I was seeing a guy there too who was very strange and long story short I ended up wandering the streets and slipped into homelessness within which I obviously did not sleep pretty much ever. I went off all my supplements cold turkey (there were a few others but I cannot remember which). Anyway my daughter and I were very close and talked pretty much constantly and I just remember the LACK of conversation filling my mind with this ..uh ..I don't know how to explain it, it was like I was still talking to her in my head but also needed to find a way to fill the lack somehow. And I also felt deeply compelled to do emotional healing work. The very first bonkers thing that happened and my only 'real' so called 'hallucination' that I recall, was when I screamed in an alley for about 10 minutes because I was persistently haunted by the memory of being recently raped, after which, with wonderful immediacy, I saw tiny rainbows surround and float around me for a couple of minutes. So either I cracked something in my brain by screaming or it was God comforting me or some shit. But I don't think in all my life I had ever screamed before and it was pretty intense.

Then my first manic episode was when after not sleeping at all for days and days, not even an hour, or eating in at least 2 days I think (long story) my weird friend kept taking me into restaurants and then out again and I kept thinking he was going to feed me and I was getting progressively more confused and I guess irritated or whatever word works and a guy noticed and offered me a toke off his joint and I hadn't smoked in a while and I took a huge blast and it just sent me (back) into screamland:

So this is why I think we are mainly dealing with PTSD stuff cuz I have been an expert at repressing my whole life, like, really really good at it. And then the subsequent manic episodes were, in my opinion, similarly, like, echoes of the first; occurring out of an impulse toward healing but sort of forced by circumstance (not sleeping, eating, excessive marijuana intake, etc). I also have pretty strong theories with regard to subtler considerations but you may neither be interested in such 'pseudo' scientifickicities or persuaded by them. However, myself having lived in BC for half my life where holistic medicine is considered the norm in many if not most circles, I cannot discount my views or replace them with what I consider to be a less than evolved conception of matters at hand (no offence; 'research' being what it is is still just at whatever stage it is at, and is not in itself a proof of truth or however you wanna phrase that). Such considerations are the effects of pretty much every thing I ingest on 'whatever' level they effect upon. During 'mania' or 'hypomania' it 'feels' like straight up 'vibration nuance variability' but I have such a sensitive disposition and I mean that physically as well that I can back that up with my own, less wacko\esoteric/bonko research and experience. For example I was vegetarian from the age of 18 until days before I went manic the first time (which I believe is another factor) and then felt addicted to meat and couldn't quit until a couple of months ago. Then I was tempted into eating meat again and I literally couldn't stop feeling like I was going to die afterwards. Albeit it was just like a wandering, mild, but still persistent thought, and I was high, but I never feel paranoid or yucky like that and I know it was the meat. Dairy has somewhat similar effects on me, but almost the opposite (I feel emotionally comforted by it but my body physically does not like it). And when manic or hypomanic I am really compelled toward vegetables like I used to be as a vegetarian but sort of lost my zazz for since becoming bipolar for some reason, BUT, I find them a nuisance and too fibrous and find myself sucking the juice out of them. Etc.

Anyway, blah blah blah who cares about the rantings of some lunatic, but I, for myself, think there is something very simple and natural to the process of healing, and that ultimately it would be within God's design to draw us back into harmony with nature at some point. I know I am 'ahead of my time' in many respects, I'm not a genius for nothing, but I feel encouraged by our last meeting and now that you have acknowledged the possibility that I might not be bipolar (and please understand that it is because to me the diagnosis simply does not make sense given what I understand about myself and my life and the nature of reality etc) I feel my time of necessarily challenging what does not make sense or sit right in my mind (for how couldn't I?) is less of a necessity and we can focus on potentialities etc. And don't worry I don't go around spouting my 'wisdom', I just live my life and if people learn anything from me it is only by paying attention.

Sorry about my run on paragraphs, I honestly cannot figure out how to not.

[geewithluv]

ESOTERIC [two]

ESOTERIC: intended for or likely to be understood by only a small number of people with a specialized knowledge or interest.

The ins and outs of the prominent gang, Bangtan, can seem esoteric to the general population that is most affected by their actions.

Ｓｙｎｏｐｓｉｓ： ❝ Jimin is going to take over Bangtan after Hitman falls ill. Not feeling confident that Jimin is ready, Hitman pulls in the pacifistic daughter of a (now deceased) close associate. Kit hasn’t been around Bangtan for years, but now she’s forced to in order to help the remaining members of her family. ❞

Ｐａｉｒｉｎｇ：Jimin x Female OC (ft. the rest of BTS, Bang PD, members of Seventeen & BlackPink)

Ｇｅｎｒｅ：mafia!au, some fluff & some angst

Ｗａｒｎｉｎｇｓ： cursing, death from illness, mentions of death by gun violence, anxiety attack

Ｗｏｒｄ Ｃｏｕｎｔ：4k

ｍａｓｔｅｒｌｉｓｔ  [part one]

Kit woke up later than she would have preferred. As much as she tried to keep her sleep schedule consistent no matter when she was working, her body always seemed to betray her wishes for a stable sleep cycle. With a yawn, she stumbled into her kitchen, turning the TV on as she passed it. “I could’ve sworn I bought more tea.” Kit grumbled to herself as she glared at the empty glass jar that should contain packets of teabags. But not a single packet sat in that jar, not even the tea she had disliked but kept around for when she had seemingly forgotten her addiction-esque need for the beverage.

 “Late last night popular restaurant, Ossu Seiromushi, went up in flames and the local fire department is still trying to contain the situation. The cause is currently unknown. Please be sure to avoid 4th street during your morning commute as it will be blocked off while firefighters attempt to control the blaze.” 

 Kit hated the morning news anchors voice but this time she let herself drown in the soundwaves coming from her television. She rubbed any remaining sleep from her eyes to look at the video playing and the headline written in the bold black text at the bottom of the screen. “Holy shit.” She whispered as she realized she wasn’t dreaming. The restaurant is burning to the ground. Bangtan’s restaurant. Who knew what else was in there besides food and very expensive cutlery?

  “There’s at least a 5 grand in cash currently taking its final form as a pile of ashes on the damn floor! That’s not even mentioning all the other shit that’s gone because of this! I don’t know if I should hope everything in there is completely burned beyond recognition because the last thing we need is a federal investigation.” Jimin paced around the spacious office in the Bangtan estate. It’s not even 7:30 A.M. and they’re already being reminded that they’re sustained by crime. Taehyung holds the firm belief that it’s much more of a 10 A.M. reminder. 

“Who the hell set Ossu Seiromushi on fire?” Yoongi was hardly awake, trying not to completely slump over in the cushioned armchair.

 Namjoon speaks up. “No one knows if it was even set on fire or if it just--”

 “Don’t even finish that sentence.” Jimin is quick to cut him off. “We all know a fully up-to-code and functional restaurant doesn’t just start randomly burning to the ground at 2 A.M..” The shrill sound of his cell phone ringing makes Jimin groan as he presses the green button. “What is it?”

 “I know it’s 7 in the morning, but would it kill you to sound a little more pleasant?” Kit’s voice came through the other line as Jimin sits down in the leather chair behind the large custom wooden desk. “What the hell is going on at the restaurant?” Kit continued realizing Jimin wasn’t going to answer her remark.

 “You tell me. Seokjin, Jungkook, and Hoseok are there now waiting for an answer.” Jimin glides his hand across the sleek surface as Yoongi, Taehyung, and Namjoon watch him intently. “You’re only a few blocks over aren’t you? You didn’t hear or see anything?”

 “A few blocks is pretty far, Jimin.” Kit scoffed. “And I didn’t because I was sound asleep at 2 A.M.. Some of us have actual jobs that require us to have a schedule and--”

 “Save your 8 to 10 hours and circadian rhythm rant. I’m coming over.” Jimin stood up, making the three other men jump up as Jimin yanked open a desk drawer, grabbing a few things and shoving them in various pockets. 

 “You absolutely are not! What makes you think that you can just come over whenever you feel like it?” Kit huffed, Jimin smirked imagining her practically stomping around her apartment trying to put things away and ‘clean up’ for him despite her apartment being cleaner than any private residence he had ever been to.

 “The fact that you’re a few blocks away from where I need to be right now, the fact that I won’t take no for an answer and the overwhelming fact that you only pretend to be annoyed when I invite myself over.” Jimin grabbed his car keys as he left the office. “You guys stay here, wait for the others to give word. If anything happens, call me. ASAP.” Jimin pointed at the three men who were silently hoping he stayed a little longer so they could hear more of his conversation with Kit. How often did he go over to see her anyway? Nevertheless, the slam of the front door shutting, meant they weren’t going to get any more information.

 “Think they’re fucking?” Yoongi crossed his arms before slumping back in the armchair, he runs his fingers through bleach blonde strands of hair falling into his heavy eyes.

 “Kit? Having casual sex? Didn’t think you were a comedian.” Taehyung laughed.

 “Maybe it’s not so casual.” Namjoon suggested with a shrug, sitting across from Yoongi.

 “You think Jimin’s going to commit to one pussy?” Yoongi moved one of his rings around his finger, a pathetic attempt to stay distracted from sleep calling his name.

 “Maybe, he’s gotta mature if he’s going to run this thing.” Namjoon was correct but no one would admit that it would eventually become time for Jimin to really commit to leading, and that meant he needed to think more about everything he did. Every decision could be life or death for over a dozen people. 

 No one wanted to think about that.

 “You’re obviously sleep deprived.” Taehyung snickered.

  Kit and Jimin stand in her bedroom looking out the window. They were able to see smoke rising just off in the distance. 

 “How much do you think you guys lost?” She asked after a few minutes of standing in silence.

 “We. You’re in this thing too, even if you refuse to say it aloud.” He glanced over at her quickly before he cleared his throat. “In dollars, we’ve lost 10 grand at the very least. Probably much more. A new shipment just came in.” 

 “Is Jin okay? I know he really loved it. Front for deals or not. It was still a working restaurant.” Jimin nearly winced, she was too nice. He worried about it being a downfall. He also winced as he realized that he had not even thought to ask Jin how he felt.

 “He’ll get over it. He can’t afford to dwell. None of us can. We found out who did it, we make them pay, we move on.” He stated simply. Kit turned on her heel to face him. “Don’t look at me like that.” Jimin sighed.

 “Like what? Like I don’t want anyone to get hurt?” Her dark eyebrows furrowed.

 “Don’t look at me like you think you can stop me from doing what I have to do. Don’t look at me like you think I’m better than this.”

 “You are better than this, though. You don’t have to hurt anyone.”

 “How can you think the world is so simple, kitten?” Jimin turned to face her. “You’re so…” he trailed off, thinking for a moment as a hundred words to describe her flood his brain and threaten to pour out his mouth, “optimistic.”

 “Maybe you’re just a pessimist.” 

 A flicker of a smile as he looks into her eyes. “Maybe.” He let out a deep breath. “I don’t know how the hell you’re going to handle this shit. This is light work.”

 “I can handle a whole lot more than you’d think.” Kit looked at the ground, her hair falling into her face. There’s an implication that doesn’t get to be addressed as the ding of Jimin’s phone fills the otherwise silent room.

 “I need to get back, you coming?”

 “You know I don’t like--” Kit cuts herself off, something in my mind tells her to go against the usual. “Yeah. I’ll come.” She said. Jimin raised an eyebrow in surprise as she grabbed a pair of shoes.

  Kit finds the meetings to be more than boring. They’re worse than the ones at the hospital when the protocol changes. So, instead, she finds something else to do. Usually opting to clean up around the large home since the guys won’t do it themselves and had apparently had a recent bad experience with a cleaning crew. So they’ve settled for hardly cleaning. 

 She hummed softly to herself as she passed the master bedroom, well, almost passed it. She had become used to passing it and hearing the steady beeping of the heart monitor and the IV drips. 

 Nothing.

 Complete and utter silence as she walked by except for her own mindless humming. She felt a sinking feeling, the same one that made her stop working the ICU and Trauma floors at the hospital. The feeling of knowing that it’s over. She knows, she knows before she actually knows, before she opened the door and stood in the room and looked at the heart monitor that had been unplugged by the man who wanted to spend his final moments in silence. She couldn’t blame him, who would want to die having to hear their heart slow to a stop. 

 She knew he was dead before she saw all these things. She had known it was coming. Everyone knew it was coming. She didn’t even like the man all that much. She had blamed him for years for the way her life had played out. But she still found herself on the floor and a scream leaving her body because it’s the only sound she could make before her face became drenched in wet sadness. 

 “Kit! Kit!” Her name is being called throughout the house as 7 men fear for the girl’s safety only to realize that she might be the safest she’s ever been. On the ground gasping for air as she sobs. Namjoon is the first one in the room before he calls out to the others. He knows there’s nothing to be done so he moves to Kit, grabbing her by her waist and pulling her up and out of the room as 6 other people run in. 

 “He’s dead!” She shrieked, thrashing around in the tall man’s arms as he takes her into the front of the house, nearly tossing her onto the sofa. 

 Jungkook and Hoseok don’t even enter the room, opting to stay in the doorway. They stared at the bed where the man who had controlled their entire lives, now lay lifeless. 

 Jungkook had never known a life that didn’t consist of being reprimanded and ordered around by Hitman Bang. Even in his final days, Jungkook still felt like the kid who nearly fell over the first time he shot a gun, not prepared for the recoil. Hitman had laughed before telling him he’d get used to it, stabilizing him, and making him shoot again.

 Hoseok was well aware this time was coming, but it didn’t sink in until now that there wasn’t another option. And now it’s here, he’s too late to prepare for a reaction, so his body stills.

 Yoongi chewed on his inner cheek, standing near the foot of the bed. “Fuck.” He mutters to himself, he’s pretty sure this is the first time he’s ever seen someone dead that wasn’t murdered or otherwise injured. And somehow, it hurt so much more knowing his own body did this to him. His body decided to kill him. The ultimate betrayal.

 Taehyung leaves the room, pushing past Hoseok and Jungkook and walking until he gets to the living room. He pretended he wanted to help calm Kit down. But he really just couldn’t bear being in the room without vomiting.

 Jimin and Jin stand on the side of the bed. Jimin starts casually dumping pill bottles and wrappings from needles filled with morphine into a nearby trash can. Jin tries to talk to him but Jimin quickly cuts him off. “It’s over. He’s dead. Now you can either help me clean this shit up or you can go call the morgue. One or the other. I’m in charge now.”

 Jin decides to call the morgue, coming to the conclusion that Jimin needed that bit of time to himself. And honestly, Jin needed some distraction and a second to breathe fresh air.

  Jimin takes Kit back to her house before anyone even shows up to remove the body. He claims it’s just so Kit doesn’t have to be there and watch. But it’s for his sake too, because he spends the rest of the day lying in her bed, holding her. Only moving to answer a few texts. “You can go home, Jimin.” She had told him more than a couple of times, only getting a hum of ‘I’m fine’ or some excuse in response. She doesn’t want him to leave, she finds resting her head on his chest with his arm around her to be more than comfortable, but she wants to keep enforcing the fact that he’s there because he wants to be in her bed cuddling her, not because he feels that he needs to be. So they held each other in her bed for hours, the television nearly muted. Only interrupted by two phone calls telling Kit that her mother was approved for transfer to the better hospital in the city and that her brother had a bed reserved for him in a rehab facility in Arizona. 

 Bang Sihyuk was a lot of things, but he was a man of his word.

 “Go to sleep, kitten.” Jimin whispered just before 10 p.m., slowly rubbing her back. They had nearly finished a full season of Grey’s Anatomy.

 “You need to sleep too.” She told him.

 “I can handle myself.” Kit shifted her body, somehow moving even closer to him, resting a leg over his.

 “It’s okay to be sad, you know? It’s normal to be upset. It’s not good for your mind to pretend you’re okay when you’re not.” She said softly, tracing the ink of his tattoo with her finger. He doesn’t respond, not sure what to say. She wasn’t really expecting a response anyway. “Goodnight, Jimin.” She presses a kiss to his shoulder.

  “You don’t have to take me to work.” Kit said with a huff as she climbed into the passenger seat of Jimin’s car.

 “You keep mentioning how long the walk from the hospital to the garage is. No telling who might be out there waiting for a pretty little thing like you to come walking all alone.” He started the car and drives out of the complex’s parking lot.

 “How many times do I have to tell you not to leave so fast! The super already came to scold me, saying you’re gonna ruin the pavement.” Kit scolded. The pavement has been in dire need of repair but no one wanted to pay for it so the superintendent decided that suing would be the best way to collect money.

 “I didn’t get a nice car and sit with Yoongi for a month to customize it so I could drive the speed limit.”

 “You’re so annoying sometimes.” Kit rolled her eyes as Jimin laughed, resting a hand on her thigh. “I work a 12 today, are you gonna be able to get me?”

 “Course I am, kitten. What do ya take me for?”

 “A very busy man? Especially at 9 o’clock on a Friday night.”

 “If you’re implying what I think you are, you’re wrong.” He slides his hand further up her leg before wrapping it back around the steering wheel. She doesn’t push further but has a soft smile on her face for the rest of the ride.

  “Took you long enough, my god, thought some psycho patient got ahold of you.” Jimin turned the key as Kit starts buckling up.

 “Sorry,” she whined, “you would not believe the shift I had. All to end with some 15-year-old telling me they went into cardiac arrest and I’m too stupid to figure it out.”

 “Let me guess, she consulted doctor google?” He raised an eyebrow as he started driving.

 “Isn’t it always?” Kit sighed as she leaned back in the seat. “What have you been doing?”

 “Cleaning up the restaurant.” He stated, a curious hum leaves Kit’s body. “Well, hiring other people to do it and watching over them.”

 “Did the police finally say it was arson?”

 “Nope, they didn’t say anything. Made sure they didn’t.”

 “Well, don’t you think the police should investigate?” Kit turned her body as much as she could to face him.

 “Are you-- my god, you’re still so innocent.” Jimin kept his focus on the road, fearing what he’d do if he saw that innocent look in her brown eyes.

 “I just don’t get it. If you can pay them to say it wasn’t arson, just pay them not to arrest you all.”

 “It’s not that simple, babygirl.” Jimin sighed, thanking God that his phone happened to ding and end the conversation. “Shit, shit, shit.” He muttered reading the text.

 “What is it? Jimin!” Kit nearly screamed as Jimin made a very illegal U-turn.

 “These dumb fucks! I can’t leave them alone for an hour!” He slams his hand down on the edge of the wheel. He pulls into a dark street, stopping short of what seemed to be a warehouse.

 “Where are we?” She looked around, unable to even figure out what street they were on.

 “Just…” He huffed as he opened the door. “Just stay in the car.” He got out without another word, slamming the door shut, leaving Kit in a state somewhere between confusion and frustration and on the border of a panic attack as she sees him run around the corner of the building. She started hearing some yelling but she couldn’t make out what anyone was saying. She wanted to get out, be a little nosy, help in some way. But Jimin’s words rang in her head and the look on his face as he got the text, it was better to do as he said. This was confirmed when a loud pop hurt her ears. Then another, a couple of seconds later another pop. Her body stiffened and her eyes widened. She feared the worst. She wasn’t sure if Jimin was the cause of the gunshots or the recipient. She didn’t even know who else was there.

 “Get in the fucking car!” A voice yells, managing to be so loud the soundwaves penetrate the car and she hears it clearly. She sees Jimin, Jin, and Jungkook run towards the car, she lets out a breath when she realizes they’re all fine, but she soon is filled with worry again as the guys scramble into the car. Jimin doesn’t say anything as he speeds out.

 “What happened to you all?” Kit looks toward a panting Jin and Jungkook, realizing Jimin wasn’t going to say answer even if he could unlock his jaw for long enough to talk.

 “Those dumbasses from Seventeen.” Jin groans. “They had a couple girls with them, didn’t even know they had girls in their gang!”

“I cannot believe you two almost got killed trying to get laid!” Jimin yelled and Kit thought she might not ever be able to hear properly again.

 “Well not all of us can bang the only girl in our circle.” Jungkook attempted to defend himself. Kit stumbles over words for a moment before Jimin shoots him a glare in the rear-view mirror.

 “I’m going to assume you said that out of agony and aren’t in a state to know better.” He growled. “Say that shit again and see if I don’t feed you back to Seungcheol.” For once, Kit is thankful for Jimin’s temper.

  Kit is sat in the living room of the estate as the guys talk, knees up to her chest. Jimin is pacing, she wished he would pick another habit because it only made her more anxious.

 “Maybe they’ll change their name to Sixteen.” Hoseok tried to lighten the situation with a joke.

 “Fifteen.” Jin laughed.

 “Nah, I heard Mingyu made it out. Probably wishes he didn’t.” Hoseok nudged Namjoon next to him as he laughed. But Namjoon isn’t listening. His attention was focused solely on Kit, he watched her expression change as the guys talked.

 “Breathe, Kit.” Namjoon stood up, making his way toward the girl.

 “What’s wrong?” Jimin stopped in his tracks, looking between Namjoon and Kit. Kit doesn’t speak, her chest raises and lowers rapidly.

 “She’s having a panic attack.” Namjoon spoke calmly, knowing that if he worried it would only make her worse. He lowered to his knees in front of her. “Kit, Kit, look at me.” She grabbed hold on Namjoon’s hands as she looked into his eyes, anxiety clear on her face as her body shook with her breaths.

 “Why is she having a panic attack?” Jimin rubbed his hands over his face. And why didn’t I notice before? He thought to himself.

 “Is it because we talked about murdering the guys from Seventeen?” Jungkook furrowed his eyebrows.

 “Of course it’s because we mentioned how we killed someone, you idiot.” Taehyung snapped, making Kit sob loudly. Namjoon starts speaking softly to her.

 “Everyone needs to leave right now.” Namjoon’s smooth voice replaces the murmurs.

 “You don’t get to make the orders around here.” Jimin responded before glancing back over at Kit, her brown skin turning red as cries leave her mouth. Her hands moved to clench the fabric of her shirt. “Everyone out.” He nearly whispered. For a moment he’s not sure if anyone even heard him. But they soon start leaving. Namjoon gives a small smile to the leader as he follows behind them.

 “You’re gonna be okay, everyone panicked a little at first.” Namjoon sat down beside Kit when the door closed. She didn’t respond, so he continued. “My girlfriend freaked out the first time I ever mentioned it.” He chuckled a little remembering that day. “I forget sometimes that my life isn’t normal.”

 “You have a girlfriend?” Kit mumbled, wiping her nose on the back of her hand. Namjoon nodded, a big smile on his face that helped calm her.

 “Yeah, I do. That’s usually why I’m not here. I’d much rather spend my time reading in her living room than taking orders from Jimin.” He said, getting a soft giggle from Kit.

 “He’s a little bossy sometimes.” She said, looking up at him. Her body was still shaking a little, her breathing not quite steady but she seemed to be calming.

 “He is, he means well though. You don’t have to keep doing this, staying here and helping out. Jimin’s got it covered. Hitman just wasn’t sure he could.” Namjoon explained. He was sure it wasn’t her first panic attack steeming from the gang and it probably wouldn’t be her last.

 “I’m not sure he really does have it covered.” Kit sniffled, Namjoon raised his eyebrows, motioning her to explain. “The amount of times I’ve talked to him about his concerns over a situation means he’s not sure. I’ve calmed him down way too many times. He won’t even admit that he’s worried, he doesn’t want anyone to know. But I know.”

 “Well… then... I’m glad you’re helping.” Namjoon was a little shocked. He, for once, wasn’t quite sure what to say. “Maybe I could link you up with my girl. You guys could talk about how dumb we all are.” He placed a hand on her shoulder as Kit nodded giving him a smile before she wrapped her arms around him.

 “Thanks, Joonie.” He pulled her closer into him, the nickname warmed his heart in a way he couldn’t explain. He hadn’t heard it in a while, not since Kit left Bangtan years ago. It was a stark contrast from the harsh yell of ‘Namjoon’ he had become used to.

 “Anytime.” He whispered.

End of Part Two. I’m going to try and get this up once a week by the way! Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think?

[kuntrabida]

2. the axon snaps and thoughts can’t travel (a rant abt COVID-19, senior year spring, and college in the fall)

12 may 2020

the gap year. the fall sem. the jump cut. the FUTURE. much on my mind right now folks lmao (prob folk in singular since like one (1) person’s gonna read this ashvcxjkv)

okay so let’s break this DOWN ig. yea LET’S unpack my inner psyche and my mental baggage at this point because i’m sure that i can’t be the only one feeling this way and even if i am, i’d like to get it off my chest and not rant to the same five people who’ve heard me talk about the same sad subject throughout the entire duration of quarantine asdjfkvcxufdsw

let’s start with senior year haHA :) still haven’t gotten over that xoxo even tho i’ve tricked myself into thinking that i have! gonna refer to it as ye olde Jump Cut because that’s exactly what all this feels like... like mother nature just threw the video file of my high school experience into a fuckinn Premiere timeline or smth and slammed her fist on the W key (an esoteric reference, i know, i know, my bad, but iykyk). 

THE JUMP CUT – senior year’s over and i know it’s a stupid fucking thing to be upset about during a LITERAL GLOBAL PANDEMIC where people are losing and risking their lives and entire livelihoods are being upended but i still... can’t help but feel upset and terrified and devastated about what i’ve always viewed as this buffer period in my life between high school and college to just VIBE and figure myself out a little bit more being cut short. especially when, for once, things were going so well.  

god, the last thing i wanna do is sound dramatic and utterly tone deaf because I RECOGNIZE my privilege and how incredibly fortunate i am to have a roof over my head and food in my fridge and a bed with a damn duvet cover to sleep in at night but i’m... so fucking sad. i’ve BEEN so fucking sad, and i think what’s even worse is the fact that i’ve been DENYING how fucking sad i’ve been feeling because i don’t think i’m... allowed to be sad in this situation? but at the same time i consciously understand that my feelings are valid and everything... it just feels like legitimately everything else in the world right now dwarfs all my concerns combined. but alas. here i am, making a blog post about my feelings to finally try and sort them out...

i just aghsdfhxhzjlk i wasn’t finished. that really is the best way to put it. i wasn’t finished with any of it. and i suppose a lot of that is my own fault for taking all the good times for granted (but also lowkey the fault of idek who... american society? for romanticizing and commodifying the culmination of high school oop)/

i feel like so many people focus on those big milestone events associated with senior year: prom, graduation, senior awards, etc. but to me personally, and to nearly every one of the friends i’ve talked to, it’s the little things that matter most — the absence of which we feel the deepest. i miss spilling coffee on myself in the cafeteria and burning frozen pastries in the toasters and complimenting people’s outfits in the hallways and staying in the building from dawn till dusk and eating takeout on the floor and hastily texting my friends at the end of the school day asking if they wanted to hang out or if they could give me a ride home and i MISS spontaneous sushi and starbucks excursions and quiet heart to hearts in coffee shops and last minute target runs and stressing out about music events and belting in the practice rooms and learning choreography in parking lots where confused drivers would momentarily glance over and just KEEP ON DRIVING and lying on the ground in one of the school’s hallways facing the sun when the light would hit JUST RIGHT through the glass and i could close my eyes and pretend i was at the beach or on an island or in a canyon somewhere or SOMETHING, anywhere, anywhere but there. and i feel this chasm in my throat whenever i think about it because looking back at those moments, i realize that there’s literally no place i’d rather be right now than inside my high school building on a normal ass day dealing with normal ass problems with exceptional, radiant, life-giving souls there to have my back and support me and hug me wow, GOD, hug me. wow how i miss hugs. and I miss my friends. shit. 

hell bro i even miss the days where everything would become a little too much for me and i’d have to find recluse in a digital media classroom and the scent of old lemon-laced coffee grounds as they brewed into dingy styrofoam cups and wandered through the halls with me during the period, into the music room where i literally grew UP and found my voice and discovered validity in my own identity and all that JAZZ and into the bathrooms where i’d spend such subtle, unsuspecting mornings with friends still practically sleepwalking and FUCK bro. frankly i’m just not ready to jump into a life where all the things i hold dear are “remember when”s. i can’t imagine this entire world that i’ve built for myself being a thing of the past, a thing that i’ll look back on as one of the best fucking times of my life even though i never realized it when it mattered, a thing i still want so so so much more of, that i am not and may not ever be ready to let go. i want it all back. but i know getting upset over it is a futile pursuit, because there’s nothing i can do, and that just fuels this feedback cycle of anger and hopelessness and denial and back again. 

i do think of that good ol’ winnie the pooh quote, though. “how lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.” but it doesn’t really make anything hurt any less. and i guess i’m just tired of hurting lol. 

THE FUTURE – dawg what the fuck is happening with colleges in the United States right now bro what is the protocol what do i DO¿

pretty damn self explanatory. my defense mechanism has ALWAYS been, “at least things will be better a couple months from now!!!!” and yeah, with university and the reality of getting to attend my dream college fast approaching i did believe that for a hot second but CORONA DAWG CORONA just plunges everything into the sea of uncertainty. i know i’m not the only one frustrated by this damn virus and i should be comforted by the unity we all have in our confusion but lmao i do not feel any better! no! one! has! any! answers! asdjfkvlcxvjl being a graduating high school and incoming college student right now is so FUCKING confusing and frightening and once again i want to acknowledge what an incredible privilege it is to even have the option of a higher education open to me but it’s such a multifaceted and unpredictable issue this year and thinking about the future — again my go-to defense mechanism and at the very least a worthy consideration since i’ll be putting down hella dollars for it — has been the cause of so much stress... 

THE FALL SEM – i! don’t! know! if! it’s! gonna! be! on!line! and i am not planning on staying in my house any longer for a goddamn variety of reasons soo i have no clue how to plan for this! no one does right now! 

our administration keeps affirming that we’re planning for a return to normalcy in the fall semester but a considerable amount of students and experts alike are saying that it’s essentially a cover so no one’ll panic and decline or defer their acceptances. SO MANY OTHER COLLEGES are revealing their contingency plans to have an online semester and ahaHA if i have to STAY in this HOUSE for ANOTHER 4 MONTHS that would FRICKIN SUCK DAWG lmaO i’ll leave it at that! so i’m: very much panicking! 

i know that things are so uncertain right now and there’s really no point in trying to predict what’s going to happen in the next couple of months because so many unknowns remain. i know that a lot of universities are gonna be in deep shit if they don’t open in the fall but at the same time, if it’s a damn public health risk it’s definitely better to keep as many people home as possible. but i have no CLUE what institutions are gonna end up doing and again, literally no one does either! i was listening to a podcast yesterday about university plans for the upcoming academic year and i got asdhvjckxv so stressed when they said that we could be one week away from the start of the school year and things could still be drastically different the next week... there’s just no way of knowing much of anything and god i hate that. it’s making me so goddamn anxious. 

i really doubt things are going to be back to normal in New York in the fall sooo...? i don’t know man again it comes down to asking people questions they don’t have the answers to and that’s just incredibly frustrating because i just want to know ONE THING for certain right now. ONE THING! idk i just wish that my college would be a little more transparent about their plans as they move along and figure things out but i know that’s not feasible. at the very least i hope things will be safe enough for them to make dorming on campus an option — freshmen have a pretty ample amount of singles available anyway. but if i have to spend the first semester of college onLINE in THIS HOUSE that’s... gonna suck. especially because i’m still probably going to be paying thousands of dollars for it which is, as my grandmother says, foul! 

THE GAP YEAR – to defer or not to defer? that is the question. 

so naturally in preparation for a potentially wonky ass academic year i’m considering deferring enrollment. but lmao... the deadline to do so is in uh *checks watch* three (3) literal days so. don’t know about that chief! 

like, i know i’m PROBABLY NOT gonna end up taking a gap year. but i guess it’s just the fact that i have so much more canvas space to daydream about it that makes it so appealing... there are so many more possibilities that i can think of that are more likely to be open to me. then again, nothing’s guaranteed. not even my own health in the fall. which is also pretty fuckin scary as hell.

y’all wanna know where i get my gap year daydream fuel? UNJADED JADE. bruh i’ve been binging her videos like MAD especially the ones where she interrails Europe during her gap year and UGH. it seems incredible. and that makes things even more confusing because i really don’t know what the right decision to make is right now. to defer or not to defer... 

again it’s all so heavily influenced by unknowns. of all the things that could happen, i’d much prefer to have a regular freshman year fall with the people in my class whom i’ve already been getting to know pretty well through groupchats and social media and the like. they’re a pretty dope bunch and i think college with them is gonna be a hoot and a goddamn half. but if i’ll end up just staying home and watching zoom lectures in my basement anyway... i’d much rather be taking a gap year. 

and i’ve been brainstorming what i’d do during this gap year (again, thanks Unjaded Jade for the god-tier content agh) and there’s just like... so many options. i could get a goddamn JOB and start saving up for tuition instead of paying tens of thousands for online school. hell with the money i make working full time i could probably save up enough to afford an apartment so at the very least i could move out of my house into a place where i feel more comfortable. and lmao I: s a l i v a t e at the thought of using that time to focus on my writing, too. the amount of writing i could get done in a year of empty calendar space... glorious. what an utterly glorious prospect. 

and of course, i’d love to fucking travel, volunteer (with a reputable and well-intentioned organization) in a foreign country, do a workstay abroad, take a train across america, but again, i don’t even know if any of that’s going to be feasible in the fall. it’s so FRUSTRATING because i’ll think of a possibility and then another one comes in and completely shuts the former down. 

and it’s not like i can ask anyone for advice right now because we’re ALL none the wiser. plus, i’ve realized that frankly, even if it’s unreasonable, i don’t want anyone to tell me that my plans for a gap year aren’t feasible. it’s such a petulant thing to say... but i don’t want anyone to add to my sense of there being a limited amount of options that i can take advantage of because everything’s already so goddamn stifling as is. i guess the prospect of a gap year excites me so much because it seems like a year where i don’t have to be defined by anyone or anything but myself. and that’s so fucking liberating. 

i just want the freedom to imagine right now because that’s when i feel happiest, but at the same time i’m afraid to get my hopes up for anything because i have this sinking feeling that the absolute worst case scenario is going to become reality. lmao. people in my state aren’t even fucking social distancing correctly so i’m damn sure that we’re in for a second and a third wave and that’s gonna suck but people are stupid as hell :)  

lol on that positive note, thanks for reading this... increasingly depressing and chaotic rant. don’t really think i’m doing this “blog” stuff right but if you got this far, i love you. leave a note if you so please, comment your thoughts, reblog if you’d like (still don’t really understand the difference between reblogging and reposting on this app but lmao feel free to click the boxy arrow thing), and stay safe and healthy and all that jazz <3

[ask-gijinka-creationtrio]

clarification on that bit on gender and contemplations on other stuff

If anyone actually bothers to read this lmao

Dialga: This question was pretty much inevitable.

Palkia: I’m honestly fine with being referred to as an “it”.

Giratina: Why the hell should we worry about “it” being “dehumanizing” when we’re not human to begin with?

Something that I knew would eventually get brought up is the genders of my interpretation of the trio. The simple answer is encapsulated in the prev post: they’re dragon gods. Gender is a societal construct; sex is for reproduction. Legendary entities that represent the fundamental laws of the universe don’t really have a need for either society or reproduction. So as with the games, they’re all officially non-binary/genderless.

That said, my designs gravitate towards one or the other. One reason is that i’m not creative, bold, inspired, or talented enough to really translate that genderless attribute into humanoid form. Another is that someone pointed out to me a while ago that Palkia has a low waist-hip ratio, stiletto clawed feet, and some designs will feature a more prominent chest. That and the gendered color-coding Pokemon started doing with blue males and red/pink females, like with the menu screens starting from Gen III, the Eon Duo, Jellicent in Gen V, and Team Skull Grunts in Gen VII. 

That said, I’m not a huge fan of these reasons, as you could also make the counterargument that Palkia looks somewhat phallic. So I kinda wanna get into an Extended Rant™ on why I choose to depict my OCs the way, even though no one probably cares lmao

It starts out with the Kanji/Hanzi for “Universe”: 宇宙, Uchū in Japanese and Yǔzhòu in Chinese. You might recall it if you’ve read Pokemon Adventures. 

You might also remember if you visited that one dude on Route 228 in Diamond and Pearl who gets yeeted out of his house by Cyrus’s contrite grandfather by the time Platinum rolls around. Okay, realistically, barely anyone probably does (that guy wasn’t that memorable), but he basically says the same thing as Cyrus in the panels above: 宇宙, coined by the ancient Taoists, esoterically means something like “the totality of extension” + “the totality of duration”. In other words, the ancient Japanese/Chinese word for “universe” is lit. “space” + “time”. This is actually a somewhat obscure, unnecessary detail that even many native speakers seem to be unaware of. It also ties in heavily with the Yin-Yang 陰陽 of Taoism.

I know Taoism is more a Gen V theme, but it’s a concept implicit throughout the franchise, hence games generally come in twos, sharing complementary/opposing or dualistic/dichotomic themes. Even trios tend to have the third member as the odd one out or mediator. There’s much more to the Yin-Yang than just Truth/Ideals and I sorta wish Game Freak would explore it more to really unite the franchise as a whole around the interconnected theme of both diversity and harmony.

The Yin-Yang isn’t strictly about Truth/Ideals as much as it is about the fundamentally dualistic nature of existence and the oneness implicit in the inseparability of coexisting complementary concepts. Thus, truth and ideals are two sides of the same coin, as are time and space as relativity revealed. The Yin-Yang is vague enough to basically be an umbrella representation term for any complementary duality. It should be noted that the feminine Yin and masculine Yang don’t refer to stereotypical/conventional notions of femininity or masculinity, but rather requires an abstract interpretation.

The Yin-Yang is composed of an active component, and a passive/reflective/receptive one. More easily understood in that one aspect creates the body and the other gives it life. One which shapes/nurtures/mothers being and one which animates/directs/fathers it. Abstract interpretations of the feminine Mother and masculine Father follow suit. As do dualistic concepts like particle and wave, existence and essence, ovum and sperm, object/entity and idea/concept, magnitude and direction, defense and offense, nature/tradition and technology/advancement (Gen I & Gen II), space and time (Gen IV), truth and ideals (Gen V), night/moon and day/sun (Gen VII), and shields and swords i guess (Gen VIII).

I excluded Gen III because among the classical elements, earth and water are both traditionally considered reflective/feminine, with fire and air being active/masculine, but i suppose if you factor in Primal Reversion in Gen VI, it works. With the Aura Trio, I read something unrelated but interesting about how apparently Ohmori Shigeru hinted at parallels between the Weather Trio and Aura Trio. Can’t find the source though. Blue - Seas were the first (Alpha) source of Life; Red - fiery, desolate Lands signify the Death of all in the end (Omega); Green - Order/Balance mediates between two forces of nature that can be malevolent/chaotic left unchecked, with the trio master possessing abilities that cancel out the other two. 

Going off the rails a bit more, speaking of color-parallels, there’s probably going to be one of the subtractive colors between Gen VIII and the (highly probable) Gen IV remakes this generation, with Cyan - Dialga, Azelf, Lucas’ accents, Za-cian; Magenta - Palkia, Mesprit, Dawn’s accents, Za-mazenta; Yellow - Giratina, Uxie, Barry’s accents, whoever the third member of the Gen VIII mascot/box art legendary trio is going to be. I wonder how they’re going to incorporate the parallels tho

Anyway I digress. The ancient Daoists associated feminine Yin with 宇/Space and masculine Yang with 宙/Time by virtue of insisting the feminine aspect precedes, but even disregarding that, Space fits in with the Yin criteria of that which represents the body and Time fits in with the Yang criteria of that which initiates life.

So while they’re genderless, Dialga represents the concept of masculinity and Palkia femininity in their most pure, abstract, and universal form according to the Dao. While this doesn’t make Dialga a dudebro and Palkia whatever the hell the feminine equivalent is, in my mind, Palkia has a strong maternal instinct and Dialga is very much a dad. Giratina is weird chaotic goth aunt/uncle who gives u ur first taste of alcohol just to spite grandpa and reads fanfiction with candles and a glass of wine like it’s a fucking literary hour.

That’s my logic and explanation behind it anyhow. The distinction goes something like Palkia will concern itself more with the state or properties of something (who, what, where) whereas Dialga will concern itself more with the role or activity of it (when, why, how). As time and space are, however, they’re deeply intertwined and cannot be separated.

I might move this bit to a separate post somewhere down the line since this has already dragged on long enough, but I’ll share some thoughts on Giratina here and tie it in with the overarching topic of assigning gender roles lol. According to Game Freak, Giratina represents antimatter, but there are some inconsistencies. I know this shit has to be taken with a grain of salt because of Pokemon logic/science and whatever, but I gave it some thought regardless. My personal headcanon is that Altered Giratina represents dark matter/energy and Origin Giratina represents antimatter. Whatever tf Gira represents in Pokemon lore is based on a combination of the two, with the Reverse/Distortion World probably alluding to the idea of an anti-universe. Antimatter and dark matter are not really the same thing, but they’re both trippy cosmic constructs that sound somewhat similar, so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ . I wanted to make a distinction because while antimatter doesn’t distort spacetime any more than normal matter, it’s speculated that dark matter (actually dark energy) does, and is responsible for the rapid expansion of the universe. 

This would also go along nicely with Gira complementing the the Spacetime twins while also complementing Arceus. It would also fit as justification for Giratina having to switch from Origin to Altered Forme upon entering the universe presided over by Dialga and Palkia, not because of the shift in spacetime stability, but rather due to the violent, annihilating reaction that occurs when matter and antimatter come into contact with one another. It’s by no means a perfect resolution hc, but it is one that I’ve gotten attached to.

Anyhoo, I designed Giratina to appear more androgynous (or at least attempted to). However, going by that masculine active/feminine reflective duality highlighted in the Yin-Yang, Origin Gira, with antimatter a reflection of normal matter, appears a bit more feminine-androgynous, whereas Altered Gira, with dark matter an active driving force for the expansion of the universe, appears a bit more masculine-androgynous (though iirc it hasn’t shown up yet and i’m not too great with consistency regardless). That was my idea behind it in any case. Origin Gira wears a binder under that big dastardly overcoat. i guess it’s technically genderfluid.

Digressing a bit, but another artistic choice was the skin tone of the trio. 0 points for subtlety on my part, but the color is Cosmic Latte, the average color of the universe. Like that bit on gender, I wanted to base it on some aspect of reality. I juggled between that and pure black with stars for freckles, but in the end i’m a lazy piece of shit who cuts corners for a living, so i settled on Primordial Clam Chowder because it was easier lmao. that’s why they pasty af

Anyways, if you have any design ideas or you wanna see a member of the trio in another form, feel free to submit your ideas or a magic anon or whatever! 

TL;DR tbh this wasn’t even a structured rant it was just me going off the rails and sharing random useless deetz. this isn’t even a tl;dr. what the fuck

[scottstiles]

in the spirit of losing followers for no reason, and because the new year is almost upon us, and because i haven’t done so in awhile, here is a post about the weekly parsha (torah reading):

this week we read nitzavim, 4 parashot away from the end of the book. it’s a short chunk, but one that contains a fair amount of pretty well known phrases. so while i was studying last night/early this morning, with nobody to talk to about this (as usual, because who else the fuk is awake at that hour), i had some thoughts. (under the cut for sermon length ramblings)

one of the famous phrases in nitzavim is this one:

“i have set before you life and good, death and evil. (later on) i have given you life and death, the blessing and the curse. and you will choose life, so that you and your descendants may live.”

as i was reading it i was a bit struck by the fact that my memory bank knew this translation as “i have set before you life and death, good and evil, so you may choose life.” but in all my years of reading the hebrew i never realized just how wrong that translation is? because order is important. every word and its place in the torah has its own meaning and reason. why does the text say “life and good” and then “death and evil”? is life more important than being good? certainly one may think that death is preferable to being evil, but is it more important to be alive or to be good? that made me think of one of the most important commandments in the entire torah- choose life. also right here in the same paragraph. tradition tells us that there are only a few commandments that we are not actually required to violate, if it means saving a life. shabbat? not as important as life. keeping kosher? not important. fasting on yom kippur? definitely not as important. if someone’s life (or our own) is in danger we are obligated to break any commandment to save it. except three: idolatry (i.e. forced conversion), murder (for example someone holding a gun to your head telling you to kill someone else or they’ll kill you), and sexual immorality- incest/rape/bestiality/etc (all things directly connected to the ancient primitive polytheistic worship practices of the time). in those cases, death is preferable. so the order is clear- stay alive at all costs, except if the cost is the essence of your good humanity. and always, always, choose death over evil. life-->goodness-->death-->evil. traditionally we’re taught that the commandment to choose life is a direct result of all the other commandments- if you do these things you will live. because the things you’re commanded to do are for good, and blessings are the manifestation of your good actions in the world. and if you choose to do the opposite, the result is death/evil/curses. rejecting the goodness of this way of life is a slippery slope to the opposite end. now, if you’ve read this far, you might think (if you’re thinking hard)- this doesn’t sound like a very ‘religious’ thing? because it’s not. i think this concept is pretty universal and relates closely to the idea of karma (as i know it, which is to say not in great detail). do you think this makes sense? i’d love to hear your thoughts.

another great line in this parsha is this one:

“when someone hears the words of this oath (the law from god) and blesses themselves, saying “i will have peace if i follow the vision of my heart, so that the dry may be made moist.” what does the concept of dry/wet have to do with the temptations of the heart?

here are the rabbis interpretations of this incredibly difficult to translate verse:

'to fulfill the desires of my freethinking' (Ralbag); 'to add desire even when he is satisfied' (Rambam; Chizzkuni); 'to let his desires satisfy his craving' (Sforno)

this verse jumped out to me thanks to the ridiculous way my vocabulary has been enhanced by this website- how many of you “thirst” after celebrities? how many of us feel and ache/hole/hunger in the chest when we can’t satisfy our base urges and desires/habits? when we slake this kind of thirst, we allow the body to take over the mind. again, something i’m all too familiar with- the slippery slope of addiction. how can we avoid getting to the point where we believe that satisfying our desires are more important that being good people or following “the law”/morality? and can we come back from it? the following sentence tells us no. god will “blot out” such a person “from under the heavens.” BUT, elsewhere in the torah, and especially on the high holy days, we read over and over again that if we return- god is waiting to welcome us back. mixed messages. 

because of its placement in the parsha, the previous description of the person “thirsting” after the desires of their heart is referring to a person who abandons god’s law to worship other deities instead, which is clarified then by this sentence:

“and they served foreign gods, and bowed down to them, gods they didn’t know, that were not their portion (given to them).” 

these two words “chalak lahem” “their portion” is so huge. it’s not the only place in the torah where we read about the righteousness of other nations. what this phrase is saying is that god is our (the jewish people’s) portion, and that other people have their portion (i.e. other gods to worship- this doesn’t mean that god concedes to polytheism- rather it refers to their practices and beliefs, which they are absolutely allowed to have). the rabbis emphasize that non-jews are not required to follow the commandments of the torah (other than the 7 noahide laws) and therefore there is nothing wrong with that.. if you are not jewish. “abominable” practices and such as they are referred to in the torah are specifically referring to the ancient canaanite and other religions which practiced things like child sacrifice, and not to the later polytheistic religions such as in ancient greece and rome. according to judaism, all the righteous of every nation have a place in the world to come- not just jews. so here’s my question for any christian followers (or ppl who know anything about this)- why is it such a “thing” for christianity to say that if you don’t accept jesus you’re going to hell? because that sure as shit didn’t come from the bible i know...anyways, maybe that’s too controversial a question for this rant. point is- acceptance. people are different from you and it’s totally fine. you (jews) are the ones with a choice- and if you choose wrong, you’re at fault and have to accept the consequences of your choices.

another famous sentence from today’s parsha is this one:

“these commandments are not too difficult or too remote from you. it is not in the heavens. it is not over the seas. it is in your mouth and in your heart, that you may keep it.”

the phrase “lo bashamayim hi”- “it is not in heaven” has been used for ages by rabbinic leadership to justify the flexibility of jewish law (and i use justify in the most non-negative way possible, because that’s pretty much all rabbinic judaism is- a bunch of lawyers sitting around a huge table arguing). the law is not something disconnected from you. it is not esoteric and mysterious and incomprehensible. it is a daily job. it is woven thru every aspect of your being and in every moment of your life. why? because it is a way of life- it is the only way of life we should strive for. because it leads to all those good things. the word tzedakah is usually translated as charity, and as little kids in jewish day school we internalize this assumption because the concept of helping the less fortunate is pretty much the basis for most of our religious education (the tzedakah box from the jewish national fund sits on every teacher’s desk).  but tzedakah doesn’t actually mean charity- the direct translation is “righteousness”. as in, doing the right thing. taking care of others is ipso facto doing the right thing, and so this word has taken on multiple meanings. but doing tzedakah isn’t just caring for others. it means keeping the commandments (of which there are hundreds about caring for others). by keeping all of the commandments we ensure that every person can live their best life. or that’s the goal, anyway.  the law is not in the heavens. it’s for us to understand, and to do, and to manage and to deal with every single day. it’s not for god. it’s for us. for our benefit, not just god’s.

and then the torah goes and says this little gem:

“the hidden things are for god, and the revealed, are for us and our children (until) forever, to do all the things that this torah tells us.”

so there are hidden things now? this is not a surprise. but there’s a reason some things are hidden. the things we know, the things we learn, discover, realize, are meant for us to. this sentence makes me think of “all things in good time,” but also “there are things that we’re just never meant to know.” as someone whose “thirst” has always been oriented towards knowledge, this kind of annoys me. so you’re saying i CAN’T know everything? excuse me. “hidden things” can also be translated as “secret things.” so now god is keeping secrets? yes. what is life in this world without a little mystery? i like to think of science as the thing god keeps revealing to us little by little. every time we discover something new about the world, good things erupt from within it. every time new things are revealed, there are special people who can take it to a level that benefits humanity. so what are the “secret things” that are only for god? we don’t have a clear answer in this parsha, however the words “the hidden things are for god, and the revealed for us and our children until-” all have dots scattered along the top of the letters- something found only a few times in the torah. it’s not clear why, but supposedly this indicates a particularly troublesome or difficult sentence to understand. i would agree. it’s interesting to me that the dots stop at “until” and are not on top of the word “forever.” does this mean that there will one day come a time when the hidden things are also for us? who knows. the only connection i could make from this phrase is to certain practices that we’re commanded not to partake in, specifically witchcraft and necromancy, trying to connect to the dead, etc. it was always easy for me to see the connection between those practices and things that are “meant only for god” (not that i have a problem with other people doing it, but it’s still a struggle for me that the torah says it’s necessarily wrong or bad to do, since it’s something that has always interested me). the other story that comes to mind is that of the high priest Aaron’s sons, who brought a “strange fire” into the tabernacle, and went up in flames for it. it’s one of the most mysterious stories in the torah, and there’s still no reasonable explanation for what actually happened to them. bottom line, i guess? don’t do things where you have no idea what the outcome might be- if the outcome could potentially be really really really bad. i guess that’s enough to keep certain mysteries a mystery. and maybe i’m ok with that.

if you made it to the end of my sermon i applaud you. thanks for taking the time to slog through this former teacher’s quagmire of a mind, and feel free to share your thoughts. i’d love someone to talk to about jewishy stuff.

[theelasilonews]

THE NIGHMARE THING

By Destiny Flynn (via The Vortex)

((CW: Murder/death, serial killers, inhumane medical experimentation))

I was really pretty dubious when Parker messaged me asking me to do this piece for the Vortex. Frankly, I've spent so long working in an audio/visual medium that I'm not sure I can still accurately convey genuine thoughts or feelings without the piles of seemingly irrelevant visual assets slapped on top, but hey. We all have to push our comfort zones sometimes, right?

I guess before I get into it I should warn Parker's regular audience that I'm going to get into some pretty heavy shit in this one about real people who've been murdered or disappeared. My tone, if you're not familiar with my work, is a little bit flip, and I don't want to make anyone think that I'm making light of these situations. Humor is how I cope with bullshit, but if you'd rather not subject yourself to that, maybe give this one a miss.

That said: The Nightmare Thing.

So, for those of you who are neither regular viewers of my channel, nor longtime followers of the Vortex, there's a fairly well-supported theory in the underground El Asilo community that Vantage Corp. has something to do with El Asilo, CA's astronomical rate of missing persons cases. Parker has written on this on his twitter feed and this blog before, and I have a few videos on the topic on my channel as well. However, as you might have noticed, this theory is difficult to substantiate. Well, Destiny; why's that?

For one, people who disappear in El Asilo tend not to be very high profile, and oftentimes few people really notice them missing Families and friends make a stink about it, of course, but what can a few people really do against the full force of Vantage's insidious legion of public relations personnel? Not a whole fucking lot, turns out.

The second reason for this is that El Asilo also has the largest number of serial killers per capita of any city in the United States. Serial killers aren't exactly the most predictable group of criminals in the world, but most of the ones here don't exactly have a vested interest in leaving...how shall we say? Identifiable bodies. This makes them REMARKABLY good scapegoats. There's nothing we can do to PROVE that any given missing person didn't just fall victim to Joe the Slasher 'round the block, even if when taken as a whole, the numbers don't come close to lining up.

This is not to say that the only victims of the fucking...void monster that I suppose we're supposed to believe is eating all of El Asilo's missing people are obscure nobodies. I point you to Atlas, Junesong, and Eraser, the heroes implicated in the Vantage Day parade bombing, whose case never went to trial. Or to Slightgeist, Miss Miracle, Deaddrop, or Nebulara, all heroes who disappeared without a trace within the last ten years. But with the public approval rating for heroes and vigilantes declining at a steady rate over that same time period driving heroic fan-followings directly into the Earth's core, not many people have paid attention to a few heroes dropping off the map.

Enter Nightmare.

Nightmare, civilian name Christina Karim, was a supervillain and serial killer active in El Asilo between December 2015 and February 2016, when she was famously turned in to the police by fellow criminal Penny Dreadful on Valentine's day. For those of you living under a rock (or outside the city, where I understand news does not often reach) at that time, Nightmare was a rather unartistic career criminal who worked with her partner and sometime girlfriend Cupid, occasionally killing people for shits and giggles. The pair famously killed an El Asilo University pre-law student, shoved her body into a swimming pool locker, and waited for student and police to recover the body.

The circumstances of Nightmare's arrest are largely inconsequential to the funtimes journey I'm taking y'all on, but seem to be mainly tied to Nightmare and Cupid carving out territory which began to infringe one that of Dreadful's gang. The actually important part here is that Nightmare and Cupid were phenomenally well-known and almost universally reviled, in part due to their large social media presence. Both villains blogged regularly about their exploits on social media, and Nightmare's blog is still publicly accessible through the archive on ap3nnyforyourthoughts, Penny Dreadful's public blog. Nightmare's powers (the ability to sense and manipulate fear) were also fairly striking, which brought her quite a bit of villain cred. Because of these and the attention-grabbing nature of their crimes, Nightmare and Cupid received plenty of media attention, and were still well in the midst of their fifteen minutes of fame when Nightmare was abruptly kidnapped and turned over to the EAPD.

"Well, Destiny," I imagine you're thinking at this point, "If Nightmare was so damn infamous at that point in time, her trial should have been a pretty big deal, right? How come I've never heard anything about it?"

And that's a REALLY REALLY GOOD QUESTION, hypothetical strawman reader upon whomst I am projecting the next point of this lengthy and indecipherable diatribe.

The answer is that by all means, this should have been a huge deal. At a time before Smilin' Milo or Chiron reached much public recognition, where the only other serial killer with that level of public caché was Goodknight, this should have been the trial of the god damn CENTURY. Instead?

Nothing.

No hearings. No trial. No plea bargains, no lawyers, no records, no nothing. Just like Atlas, Junesong, and Eraser before her, Nightmare seemed to essentially evaporate into thin air. But why? How does a well-known serial killer just disappear out of jail without a bat of an eye? Well, there are a few theories.

The first, and in my opinion least plausible, theory is that Nightmare is just dead. The theory goes that Vantage took her out in prison before any momentum could build surrounding her trial, for some unknown reason. But I really don't find this one very compelling. First off, there's absolutely no evidence to suggest its' veracity. I know that's a common thread when it comes to your friendly neighborhood megacorp's misdeeds, but this one is especially shaky. What reason would Vantage have for this not to go to trial? Putting Nightmare on display and basking in the glory for putting an end to her terror ought to have been a FANTASTIC photo op. And, as far as Vantage is concerned, losing someone with her powers would have been an enormous waste of resources. Why? Stay tuned, listeners.

The second theory holds that Nightmare, like many criminals before her, was recruited out of her jail cell for Vantage's worst-kept secret; their covert assassination division. It's not as though this hasn't happened before (check my video on the subject for more info,) but Nightmare's circumstances cast some doubt on this theory as well. Readers. I've, like, READ Nightmare's blog. Evidence makes it clear that she was something of an egomaniac. She moved in on Greenback territory because other people having power threatened her. She displayed her crimes publicly because she needed the acknowledgement, often to the detriment of her crime career. It may be just me, but I don't think that's the kind of personality that particularly lends itself to a line of work where one's every move would be controlled by someone else.

And then there's the fact that, since her arrest, Nightmare has clearly not been in touch with her girlfriend, who has been publicly grieving for over a year. One would think that, were Nightmare able to act freely, she would have at least contacted the only person who seemed to matter to her. (NOTE: I attempted to reach Cupid for comment on this article. I was, uh. Not successful. So the possibility remains that something happened behind the scenes.)

Which brings us to the third and most compelling theory. This theory holds that Nightmare IS in Vantage's custody, but not their employ. Remember how, before, I mentioned that she had some incredibly interesting powers? I'm sure Vantage does. I know this theory is probably going to be the most wildly out there for folks who aren't chin-deep in esoteric real-world conspiracy theorist refuse the way I am, but hang on for me here.

There's another theory, a theory that's been around almost as long as Vantage's hold on the city itself. A theory that beyond all the shady Vantage-sponsored legislation, beyond their trapping an ENTIRE CITY in a snowglobe, beyond their sinister anti-hero agenda or even their poorly disguised assassination department, there lie even deeper and more vile atrocities. This theory is that Vantage is running sinister human experimentation somewhere on their premises, largely on supers. Parker has covered some of the evidence for this concept in his post on the El Asilo Monorail Project, and I have a broader video upcoming, but the evidence is there when you know where to look. From employee social media accounts sneaking secrets out into limited follower groups to anecdotes from those claiming to be escapees, there's a lot to sift through, and I'm promising here to go though it later in a way that y'all can actually digest.

But for now...it does sort of explain the circumstances, doesn't it? Frankly, it's the only explanation for the disappearance anyone has posited so far that lines both Nightmare's motivations and Vantage's up with the facts.

As it is, right now the Nightmare Defense is one of the most common arguments for the idea that Vantage is, at least in part, behind a portion of the missing people in El Asilo. After all, if not that, then where the FUCK is Christina Karim?

Anyway, that's all they wrote. If you found this useful or entertaining, you'll probably like Parker's stuff, so please follow The Vortex. And if you want to support what I do, try following me and giving me money so I don't starve and can afford to keep making videos of my inane ranting layered over visuals designed to entrap your attention and distract from the fact that I'm going on for fifteen full minutes about something you don't and will not ever believe because Vantage's agenda is so deeply ingrained in the collective subconscious that it actively discourages resistance and most of you don't even know it's happening.

[PATREON LINK] [KO-FI LINK] [YOUTUBE CHANNEL LINK]

[thesoundofsimple]

It took me a while to compile these. Maybe I was busy, maybe I didn’t want the closure.  I’m not always so great with closure. I think it was more that i tried and failed to post this several times and it was starting to become too much work. Anyway, I’ve finished the series. This story has consumed me for the last two years. Hey, I’m not a fast reader ok - don’t you judge me. But it’s a nice thing to have something in your life like that for so long, what’s the rush. I’ve compiled a bunch of my fav moments from the book below along with some commentary on some of them. Where to begin... I read this series because of two people. Either in high school or early college my friend Matt insisted that I start reading the Gunslinger series. He was obsessed with it. I was not a king fan at the time and chalked his interest Up to the other weirdo fantasy books he would read about kings and queens and warriors and big bears and those fantasy books you would see in the bookstores with the girls with the big boobs and they are riding a wolf or something from other dimensions and such (you know the ones right?) Sometimes he’d plead with me anyway about how I was missing out. I ignored this but regardless, the seed was planted. As I was reading this, i realized how lucky i was to be able to just keep reading this series unencumbered by the wait for publication. I was never having to wait YEARS for the next book to come out, or wondering if it ever would come out. I kinda got the Netflix treatment on this, i could binge read. I had the sad realization that as obsessed as Matt was with the series, he only got through three. He died a few months before Wizard and Glass which i realize is a small tragedy in comparison to the whole "he died" part but its a tragedy nonetheless. I wish Matt could have been able to finish the series. That would have made him happy. He was a nice person and one of my best friends, I realize writing this, I miss him. The other person implicated here as getting me interested was my friend Amy. She'd been a big King fan since she was a kid. A little kid. A weird little kid according to her, reading fukin Pet Cemetery at age 11 and such. My own 11 year old would have to be committed to a mental institution if she read that book. Amy liked reading in general and I hadn't really been reading any books in a long time and I was embarrassed about that when it came to her so i tried to start reading a bit not to seem like a total degenerate. that kid had a way of making me do things that were good, things i should be doing - nice quality really. She had a way of picking out things for me that, well, I really liked. She was my taste-maker for a few years with stuff like this and I came to believe if she said i would like it, well it was a done deal because she was always right about what i'd like. That said, she was also a little self conscious sometimes about her interests. She'd go on a whole rant about something sorta esoteric and then suddenly become self aware and look embarrassed, say something like "yeah, your girl's a real weirdo, sorry" but I loved listening and learning about lots of stuff (great stuff) i just had been oblivious to. Roland and his friends were among Amy's favorite stories. So a few years later when we, well, didn't talk anymore, and I missed her... quite a lot, I started picking up some of the books she told me about. While Matt put the idea in my head to read these books, I know that the real reason i finally did was to have a tiny part of her around, a one way connection but a connection regardless (now who's the weirdo) And it was nice to be honest. I would have liked to have talked to her about these books, or just say Thankya for putting the idea in my head. 

It’s amazing to me how much the world changed for King from the first book to the last. Or since Matt left. Or since Amy left. Or shall I say, the world has moved on, if it do ya. That the first book was started before I was born and before the last, Harry Potter appeared in the world of Roland. This was an almost uncomprehendingly amazing story. I cant believe it came from one brain. its staggering to me really, truly staggering. Thank you Mr. King. August 1, 2018. 

—————————— My comments in bold You needn’t die happy when your day comes, but you must die satisfied"

“That smell of cooking meat wafting through the air was not pork.”

“sköldpadda tumbled to the red rug, bounced beneath one of the tables, and there (like a certain paper boat some of you may remember) passes out of this tale forever” Loved this reference to IT

“A man can’t pull himself up by his own bootstraps no matter how hard he tries” agreed. reflective of my continuing shift to the left of the political spectrum

“Roland nodded, which wasn’t good enough for Eddie. “Let me hear you say it.”“Hoggie.”“Hoagie.”“HOOG-gie.” Philly! “always tuned to the oldies on WCBS” my mom always had this on growing up. cousin brucie. 

“Anyone who doesn’t think the imagination can kill is a fool” it can. it can make your day or ruin your life

“He leaned forward through the fragrant pipe-smoke. “Son,” he said, “tell your tale. And don’tcha skip a goddam word.”” you knew he was going to believe, i loved this. 

“And she kept the secret. I was the only one she ever told.” Eddie, perhaps remembering that post-coital confidence in the dark of night, was smiling painful” keeping each other secrets... i know that painful smile while remembering

“John offered them a smile that augured well for his future as a dirty trickster: bemused on the surface, sly beneath. well, i just liked this

“Do any of us, except in our dreams, truly expect to be reunited with our hearts’ deepest loves, even when they leave us only for minutes, and on the most mundane of errands? No, not at all. Each time they go from our sight we in our secret hearts count them as dead. Having been given so much, we reason, how could we expect not to be brought as low as Lucifer for the staggering presumption of our love?” and sometimes, they leave, and indeed, are gone.  “and so will the world end, I think, a victim of love rather than hate. For love’s ever been the more destructive weapon, sure.” aye

“To a wide-eyed lad, the tacky tricks of the world’s most ham-fisted prestidigitator look like miracles. ”

“Steek-Tete in Thunder-clap, thinking just briefly of Mr. C. S. Lewis, and the wonderful wardrobe that took you to Narnia. They did not come out in Narnia.”

“What do you know about what it’s like to spend your whole life on the outside, to be the butt of the joke every time, to always be Carrie at the fuckin prom?”

“It was a simple and perfect bit of wordless communication, the sort people who love each other take for granted.”

“My grandfather had a proverb,” Pimli said. “‘You don’t worry about dropping the eggs until you’re almost home.’” “Was it Emily Dickinson who called hope the thing with feathers? I can’t remember” had a friend, she liked this one. 

“Because the only thing talent wants is to be used.””

“Yet he is content enough. The food is good, and although his sexual appetites have subsided quite a bit over the years, he’s not a bit averse to the odd bonk, just reminding himself”“very time that sim sex is really nothing but accessorized masturbation” I cant help but think this is my future. at least it will be accessorized!

If there’s any movie the Breakers never get enough of, it’s Star Wars.” was this a dig a starwars?  “Roland smiled. “A man who can’t bear to share his habits is a man who needs to quit them.”  “Yet still I love you and would serve you and even bring the magic again, if you would allow me, for that is how my heart was cast when I rose from the Prim”

“Even if the torture stops, I’ll die. And you’ll die too, for when love leaves the world, all hearts are still. Tell them of my love and tell them of my pain and tell them of my hope, which still lives.”

“Nerves, he thought, were for people who still hadn’t entirely made up their minds.”

“the rest of the tale will be short and brutal compared to all that’s gone before. Because when katet breaks the end always comes quickly.Say sorry” = king does this thing where he makes a statement like this and you start worrying and reading faster and faster “All is forgotten in the stone halls of the dead. These are the rooms of ruin where the spiders spin and the great circuits fall quiet, one by one”

“He used to tell me that never’s the word God listens for when he needs a laugh.”” “Hush,” he whispered, and she did. The hand caught in her hair pulled. She brought her face to his willingly and kissed his living lips one last time. “I . . . will . . . wait for you,” he said, forcing each word out with immense effort.”

“I probably know more about D-cups than D-lines, and I think that’s true of everyone here”  i take the D line home, D cups are more fun. 

“on order from Viking Motors (“The Boys with the Toys”) in Oxford himself.” i think i stopped into this store last fall

“It was also a stick shift, and she had never driven one of those.”

“Roland and Jake were now bracing their hands against the dusty metal dashboard, where a faded sticker proclaimed AMERICA! LOVE IT OR LEAVE! in red white and blue” was once in a bar in south boston and they have this big sign up that says this. i agreed at the time 15 years ago, now i realize it’s against everything i believe in

“You’re in one hell of a hurry, mister—like the white rabbit in Alice in Wonderland. What very important date are you almost too late for?”  I believe this is what is known as The Baader-Meinhof phenomenon

“Despite his sorrow, there were no tears yet; his eyes felt like hot stones in his head. Perhaps the tears would come later, when the truth of what had happened here had a chance to sink in a little”

“He knelt a moment longer with his hands clasped between his knees, thinking he had not understood the true power of sorrow, nor the pain of regret, until this moment.I cannot bear to let him go.”

“It’s what we call poetic license, Roland.”He nodded, showing unexpected (to her, at least) understanding. “Pretty lies,” he said” =pretty lies, i liked that

“If she had trimmed her bush, maybe she would have taken them off. If she’d known, getting up that morning“

“You wouldn’t dump me without at least . . .” She shrugged one shoulder. The gesture made her look very young. “Without at least saying goodbye?”

“The George Washington,” Marian Carver said. “Or just the GWB, if you’re a native.” i used to listen to the traffic reports as a kid and know all these abbreviations, GWB, BQE, LIE, etc

That man had some hard bark on him

“He opened it and slipped inside with no look back. That, he had found, was ever the easiest way.”

“There were photographs of Eddie and Jake in the folders that were simply too painful to look at. Memories were better.”  “nothing so glamorous, just a retreaded adman from upstate New York”

“Then she screamed. There were no words in it, nor could there have been. Our greatest moments of triumph are always inarticulate.”

“Because the body had a way of forgetting the worst things, she supposed, and without the body’s cooperation, all the brain had were memories like faded snapshots.”

“Good boys go to heaven, and all my friends be in t’other place, toastin marshmallows” 

“It felt strange to laugh, but it was a good feeling, like finding something of value long after you were sure it was lost forever.” this resonated with me

“Oy had decided to live. It was a small thing, but it was a good thing.” It was a good choice. it always is. no matter what. 

“not Sheemie, he’s gone into the clearing at the end of the path, say sorry” thought sheemie deserved a better more dramatic end. “After today she’d see him no more. And that was for the best. Still, she would have given anything in her life to have him make love to her again. You could stay at the apartment for a couple of days and rest up,” she said. “I’d stay with you.” And fuck thy brains out, do it please ya, she thought” sex with an ex? yes please. 

““Bet your bottom dollar,” Roland answered”“and was sorry immediately. He’d learned the phrase from Eddie, and saying it hurt.” has this happened to me, using a phases of a departed only to find is satisfying but satisfying at the same time? i think so...

“In the dark, such visions had a horrible persuasiveness, but luckily she was too tired for them to keep her awake long.”

““It hasn’t been a bad life,” Joe was saying. “Not the life I expected, not by any manner or means, but I got a theory—the folks who end up living the lives they expected are more often than not the ones who end up takin sleepin pills or sticking the barrel of a gun in their mouths and pullin the trigger.”

“Laughter, Susannah would reflect later, is like a hurricane: once it reaches a certain point, it becomes self-feeding, self-supporting. You laugh not because the jokes are funny but because your own condition is funny.”

“But what Roland and Susannah and Patrick heard in a major key, Mordred heard in a minor” i liked this. i have  this really really smart friend but he cant understand the difference between major and minor even when i played him some stuff in piano, hes like “i dont get it”

“Beneath a picture of Roland in profile, he had printed: BEATLES, not Beetles.” WOW i never NEVER realized this! im in IDIOT

“She wondered why everything had to be so damn hard, so damn”“riddle-de-dum) mysterious, and knew that was a question to  which she would never find a satisfactory answer . . . except it was the human condition, wasn’t it? The answers that mattered never came easily.” 

“where she’d learned the art of murder and fallen in love and been left bereaved?”

1. “More important than that, it was unworthy of how much he had come to love and respect her. It broke what remained of his heart to think of bidding her goodbye, but if it was what she wanted, what she needed, then he must do it. 

2. “No,” said he, and she saw he truly was not. She believed she had never seen such sadness and such loneliness on a human face. “Never” 3. “For a moment she thought he would make it easy on her, just agree and let her go. Then his anger—no, his despair—broke in a painful burst. “But you can’t be sure! ” 4. “She took him by the arm and pulled him down and put her lips on his. When she inhaled, she took in the breath of a thousand years and ten thousand miles. And yes, she tasted death.” 5. “He put his face in his hands. It occurred to him that if he had never loved them, he would never have felt so alone as this. Yet of all his many regrets, the re-opening of his heart was not among them, even now. She had brought grace to his life. It wasn’t a word that had occurred to him until she was gone.” this whole section where suzanne leaves roland was kinda hard for me to read, a little to close to home. even tho they were just friends, it was very familiar. 

“A hard rain made for queer bedfellows at the inn; had Roland never heard that saying?”

“Or what if he does know her, somewhere far back in his mind, yet still denies her as completely as Peter denied Jesus, because remembering is just too hurtful?”

“She tosses Roland’s revolver into this litter barrel. Doing it hurts her heart, but she never hesitates.” id never be able to do this. 

“His touch is electric, and she sees that he feels it, too. It occurs to her that he is going to kiss her again for the first time, and sleep with her again for the first time, and fall in love with her again for the first time. He may know those things because voices have told him, but she knows them for a far better reason: because those things have”“already happened. Ka is a wheel, Roland said, and now she knows it’s true. This was a sweet part of the book. Reminded me of a lyric “i get the joy of rediscovering you...”

“And will I tell you that these three lived happily ever after? I will not, for no one ever does. But there was happiness.”

“One taste of the old times sets all to rights”

“All right. I go. Long days and pleasant nights. May we meet in the clearing at the end of the path when all worlds end.” Thank you. 

[lazilyhopefuluniverse-blog]

day 2: 17.03.2017

a visit to the delhi art gallery (DAG) located next to Social (and it's laughably named sister act on the terrace, anti-Social, an example of one of those establishments where the very-in hipster prefix like "anti" and "un" is used for counter-cultural effects as well as for "coolness". an attempt to stand apart from the crowd despite being part of it and contributing to it. point to note i’ve suggested such names in advertising jobs too). both establishments are located in delhi's nightlife hub. chinatown minus the dragons. more punjabi than china. 

i stray. back to DAG.

a nice spacious set-up as museums should be. creaky wooden flooring.

on display - masterpieces of indian art.

again, a mid-week visit around 4ish so not many people around, in fact no one as visitor. i sauntered about, my worn out leather brogues stepping on creaking wooden floors, my non-branded, hand-stitched-by-tailor green ikat style handloom cotton shirt (something i’m not too sure of wearing nowadays as opposed to the time i bought it) and my organic denims adding to the general hipster-intellectual air around me. i'm more hipster than i‘d care to admit but i guess it's the times we live in. apart from an extremely loud gentleman on the phone (museum employee by the sound of it) there was no one else.

now a brief tour (brief because more will and should be written on this by me - hopefully) of the curator notes i read there. the usual spacing and spelling errors found here too. is it a common thread among museums and galleries? written word doesn't matter? but art critics (uff them!) should disagree and i’m sure some art critic writes it anyway so why the errors.

i think the biggest reason i always felt intimidated by art was because of art writing. it has never been the art itself. or not entirely. but the understanding of it as imagined, judged and curated by curators and assorted others, the art critics, students and historians who make art appreciation so out of reach for the ordinary person let alone the unlettered.

{note essay in 'take on art: critics' edition and berger}.

what's on the notes:

a. sundry details like dates and medium and tools and paints used.

b. critic-jargon-speak. i say this confidently now because i'm done with it (mostly). as berger says, they mystify more than educate. if paintings are for the soul, which part is art criticism for? the language, the interpretations - esoteric sometimes, sometimes bland - they distance me from the art instead of getting me closer to them. could one call it a loss of translation from one language (visual) to another (the written)? back in the day i thought if i didn't get it the fault must be in me. the stupid is me. i'm still stupid but not that much so as to buckle and fall because someone else's writing i cannot get. or even the art itself. remember there should be no holy cows.

for the blandness, i read a note against a jamini roy. the painting had a woman and child (i think). the woman must've had a basket on her head and was probably holding the child at her waist. other details fail me. on the top right hand corner, was a motif, a little circular pattern. simple folk-sy. i was ready to overlook this piece (because it didn't do much to me) but i glanced at the note. the writer, mentions the motif, special mention. he/she muses, the motif could be “merely decorative” or (and here i paraphrase a bit) “in the current modern abstract interpretation it could be the sun itself”.

so, you're telling me this is a jamini roy. from 19XY. materials used and the fact that there's a village woman and child, all of which i can see and then in the end you add a vapid observation about a motif looking like the sun which it is most probably but that nugget of information adds nothing to the painting itself? i'm baffled.

roy was just one instance. there were many other paintings, rather simple literal ones where the accompanying write-ups faithfully wrote out each and every object - living or otherwise - in the painting. a large painting of some horses grazing, some on the move, a house in the distance and some smoke coming out of it and the note reads (approximate):

"in this painting we see horses in the fore of the painting as they patiently graze and sip water, a couple on the trot ready to go away, beyond we see a farm house with smoke suggesting someone lived here."

please tell me why i spent 5 minutes reading something that was exactly the same as the painting? it can’t be meant for the blind because it wasn’t in braille.

on to yet another souza. this time even i jumped a bit. despite all my liberal-ness, the sight of 2 hairy brutish looking men fucking a woman on a table, made me shift a little in embarrassment. i looked around hoping no one else was around so i could observe more freely (especially no guards as classist as it may sound and that reminds me that i've always wondered what they think about the nudity around them - it's an interesting topic that calls for further exploration). back to souza - the woman lying on the table on her back. both men strategically placed at both ends. the write up accompanying this sketch was heart-felt no doubt but i would've preferred it coming from the painter himself. (maybe it was so of course part of all my rants could be unfair). the writer goes on to explain that the drawing reflects souza's distaste at violence or some such deeply felt psychoanalysis, something about his abhorrence displayed through an abhorrent act but at the same time thrown in somewhere else is a mention that souza was a voyeur. the note said, the drawing depicted a gangrape (shudder) but a tiny voice asked "what if it was a consensual gang bang?" what if it was just erotic (notwithstanding the rather stereotypical bollywood rapist looks of the men)? souza didn't help so much by leaving it untitled. but then perhaps provoking questions is part of the deal and that it has done well. for me at least.

{i didn't take pictures. the guards were around}.