#i guess ill do a separate art. but probably not until later in the month bc of work and school :

[jamesbukkakebarnes]

🧐

[whatifxwereyou]

Ashes Chapter 15: Same Old Story

Fandom: Mortal Kombat 2021

Pairing: Liu Kang x Reader

Summary: Some history for Y/N and some brotherly love from Cole.

A/N: when you so busy writing smut that you forget to update the story so you can get to the smut lmao. enjoy, fellow nerds.

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You were uncomfortable talking about personal things, particularly your history, but Cole deserved answers and he was a patient listener. Being a father, you weren’t really surprised by that. “When I was a kid, like… nine I want to say? Honestly my childhood is pretty blurry. Feels like another life.” You cleared your throat. “Anyway, yeah, around then I fell ill. I had these… fits, for lack of a better word. I didn’t understand what they meant at the time because I was well, nine. No one else understood them either. As an adult I know that I was experiencing prophetic visions. Honestly, they weren’t really prophetic then, I guess. That’s a word Raiden uses a lot for them. Back then they were rarely of future events. It was more like gaining deep insight into the lives of others. I could touch someone or something that someone else had touched and I would disappear. I’d see a glimpse of their history or their present. I was too young to interpret it.”

“Like touch telepathy? I’ve seen television shows about that concept. This stuff is hard for me to wrap my mind around. Too much like fiction.”

“I suppose that’s a good thing to call it. When I saw things, I would also black out. And have a fit. Like a seizure, I suppose. And when that was happening, I would often say things about what I was seeing or hurt myself. It frightened people. My parents took me out of town and I stayed with my grandmother. I was homeschooled after that. My parents saw it as an embarrassment if I recall.” You laughed at the idea of that now. That life was so far behind you that it didn’t matter how stressful it had been. Back then it had felt like the end of the world but as an adult, it was a distant memory. Those experiences had made you different and strange but they had also made you unique and special. You had embraced the things that had separated you from normality since then.

“Well, that’s awful.”

“Oh, no, no pity. It’s fine, really. That was world’s ago.” You waved off his disapproval of a parent being embarrassed by their child for things they couldn’t control. Cole really was a good guy. “I stopped having the visions at around twelve and while I was weak from being so sick, I fought to be normal afterward. My dad ran a dojo and so I grew strong again. I focused on martial arts. It was something that helped me find strength and determination back then.” You smiled at the memory. You’d always had a fondness for it in your heart. That was one of the first things you and Kung Lao had bonded over. Your father had taught Wing Chun and that was what Kung Lao specialized in. “With time my father could no longer teach at the dojo so he moved in with my older sister. I took over the dojo and then opened a shop in the old storage space to make extra money. I had every intention of moving away. I would never be more than a weirdo or a witch there. It was too small a town.”

“Did you ever get to?”

“I mean, I’m here now. That’s a long story though. I’m trying to keep this brief.” You chuckled. “We can talk about that stuff another day.” That was a more casual and personal conversation. This was personal but definitely not casual. If you didn’t have to share these parts of your life then you never would have. Much of it was still too raw. But Cole Young was curious about your past and you were curious about his. It was nice having another friend who wasn’t Liu Kang. You really did get along with him and his family.

“Fair enough.”

“About five years ago I was still doing the same. There had been a robbery across the street and the thugs came into my shop afterward. And, well, I’m not the type to roll over and be robbed.”

“I’d say not.”

“It escalated. There was a man who came in to pick up herbs I had imported for him every month who came in after. He ended up helping me out. Unfortunately, or fortunately depending on how you look at it, I killed one of those would-be robbers. He’d been trying to kill me so… I have come to terms with that. That’s how I got the dragon mark.” You pointed to your back. Yours was on your lower back on your left side. “The man who helped me was Liu Kang. I knew him then and he was kind enough to help me deal with the fallout at the time. It took ages for him to convince me to that there was any truth to any of this… Mortal Kombat and arcana nonsense. It’s kind of embarrassing looking back at it.” And the story was far more complicated too. You’d been attracted to Liu Kang from very early on. “I guess that’s why I’m so patient with Johnny. It’s easy for us to know what’s the truth but when you spend your whole life believing that fairytales are made with computers and science? It’s difficult to believe anything else.”

“Yeah, I get that. Not everyone had Sub Zero rushing them into the truth.” He joked. That was true enough. But Johnny Cage had had his come-to-jesus moment that afternoon you were pretty sure. You hadn’t had a moment like that in the beginning. Just Liu Kang’s word and his arcana.

“Liu showed me his arcana but I thought it was a trick. He was very persistent at the time. Tried to talk me into leaving everything I had ever known for what I thought was a trick. I was scared, I’m not too proud to admit that. The part of me that wanted to leave home and never look back had grown smaller over the years. I’d become complacent. I’d grown comfortable being known as a witch and honestly, the next generation of people in town hadn’t treated me so terribly. The kids even thought it was funny that everyone thought I was a witch. But then… I found my arcana.”

“The ink?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty and under control now but in the beginning, it was a nightmare. The first time I used it had been on accident. I nearly destroyed my store. Then I fell and had a fit and I was suddenly seeing things again. Those things I saw didn’t make any sense. None of it. I saw flashes of people and places I didn’t recognize. The best way that I can describe it is… nonsense. It didn’t mean anything.” You sighed heavily. Those moments had been terrifying. “The second time had been even worse. If Liu hadn’t been basically stalking me then someone would have gotten seriously hurt. I’d hurt him but he’d been tough enough to handle it. I felt terrible about it. By then I’d more than grown fond of him.” You didn’t want to get into the details but it hadn’t exactly been difficult to fall into Liu Kang’s arms and it hadn’t taken very long either.

“There’s a lot of history there, huh?”

“Yes. Focus.” You wanted to get this story over as quickly as you could. “After that I decided to go with him. It wasn’t worth the risk of hurting people in town with something I didn’t understand. I didn’t want to leave but I was glad that I did afterward. Raiden’s Temple was where I had needed to be for what came next. It was awful at first. The ink and the visions made me sick. I had little to no control over any of it. Raiden helped me. He could unravel what I saw even if it was just spaghetti to me. My visions helped him. At least he said that they did. Liu helped me get control over my arcana. There I met Kung Lao and I was happy. About a year later the visions stopped altogether and I was stronger than I’d ever been.”

“And now you’re having them again? Out of nowhere?” Cole didn’t sound terribly concerned. He had handled all of this very well. It was nice not to be taken too seriously or looked at like you were about to fracture. You didn’t think the visions were out of nowhere. In fact, you thought that the visions were likely triggered by Kung Lao’s death. Trauma did funny things to people. The things that happened to you were a little funnier than most.

“I confess that I didn’t realize I was having them at first.” You shrugged. It was difficult to explain but it seemed as though, at some point, Cole had abandoned his disbelief and had embraced chaos. “They were more like nightmares. It was difficult to decipher what was guilt and grief and what wasn’t. It wasn’t until the other night on the roof that I even considered they were visions. Well, that and I feel terrible. I haven’t felt this terrible since the last time I had them.” You were a little embarrassed to admit that. If you’d been honest about what you were feeling from the beginning then maybe you could have done things differently. You just hated being weak. It was a hot button for you.

“And that was when you saw what happened this afternoon?”

“Kind of? I saw the beach and a wave of corpses coming for us. Does that count?” You tried to joke. Cole tilted his head as if to consider if it counted or not.

“It does at least explain why you were extra creepy this morning.”

“Implying that I’m always a little creepy.”

“The ink is a little creepy, I decided.”

“I guess that’s fair.”

“But you’re okay? This morning was wild.”

Did you not seem okay? You supposed that you were feeling out of it after seeing Kung Lao’s death. You definitely weren’t feeling yourself but you thought that you’d hidden it pretty well. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You sound a little morose.” Cole looked to the door like he had somewhere else to be. He probably did. He had a family and all that. “I can’t say we know each other very well but whatever happened back there must have hit hard… and I mean… you were so different at the end of it.”

“I’m fine, Cole.” You reassured him with a forced smile. You were a little morose. That was a good word for what you were feeling. You wanted to sleep for the rest of the week until you had to go back to China.

“Ally, Emily, and I are going to go grab dinner. You’re welcome to join us. You could probably use some food.”

“No, no. Thank you but I think that I have encroached upon your family time enough this week.”

“We really don’t mind. You’re good company. Allison asked if you were joining us, even.”

“Really, Cole. I appreciate the offer but I’m not up to it. My social battery is completely drained.” You offered a weary smile. It was nice to be wanted. “I’m going to rest.”

“You’re just… so off. I feel bad leaving you alone.” Cole pulled his phone from his coat pocket. “I’m considering asking if Ally wants to grab food and then bring Emily here to watch a movie with you.”

“It’s okay, Cole. I need the time alone, I think. Besides, I’m allowed to be a little under the weather after that.” You smiled even so. You didn’t want him to pity you. You didn’t need that. You really would be okay. That morning had been difficult but you weren’t prepared to say the real reasons why. You were a mixture of angry and hurt but you’d trudge through it.

“Yeah…”

“Hey, look, you don’t need to feel responsible for me just because of what happened with Kung Lao.” You would happily absolve him of any guilt he felt in that regards. He was guilty of nothing but being a good man.

“What?” Cole was genuinely surprised and you internally winced at how you’d miscalculated. You’d read the whole situation wrong and instantly regretted your words.

“I thought you might be feeling some misplaced guilt about it. I don’t want that for you.”

“Oh. Maybe that was why I approached you on the street that day but I think we’re past that. We’re friends now. Am I wrong about that?”

“Not at all. It’s been lovely getting to know you and your family. I really mean that, I’m not just saying it. You’ve managed to get me a little out of my head which is nice. And you like my jokes which I appreciate. I’m sorry about the way that came off. I wasn’t trying to diminish our friendship. I just didn’t want you to carry around that guilt, either.”

“That goes for you too.”

“It’s been a hard day. I’m not coming across the way that I mean to. Let’s say lost in translation.”

“It’s okay, Y/N. Your English is pretty good so I’m not sure that excuse works, but I’ll let it slide.”

“I know, I know… I’m being cold without meaning to. Like you said, I’m a little morose right now. I do this thing when my feelings are difficult to process where I kind of shut off and… I can come off as cruel without meaning to. Honestly, even in Chinese it doesn’t sound much better.” You couldn’t help but laugh at yourself. “I’m sorry.”

“No need. Today was a reality check. It scared me too. And you’re clearly going through something. I wanted to help, is all. Sometimes when I get too far into my head things snowball and become an avalanche.”

“I appreciate that.” You kicked your shoes off next to the bed and laughed. You had no plans of going anywhere else for the rest of the day. “I used to have Kung Lao to keep that from happening. I appreciate you trying to help but you can go get food with your family and enjoy your afternoon. I’m exhausted. I’ll probably nap or meditate on what happened today.” What you really meant was that you would do whatever it took to get it out of your head. You were going to try and forget the awful things you’d seen today. You weren’t sure you could forget it. His death was burned into your mind’s eye. It would haunt you for the rest of your life.

“I will but before I go, I wanted to talk to you quickly about Liu.”

“I would very much prefer if you didn’t.” You scrunched up your face in distaste.

“I know that I’ve been teasing you about it.” He laughed and you rolled your eyes. “But is everything okay with that? I know, I know… it’s not my business, you’ve said it a dozen times now. It’s clearly complicated. You don’t owe me any details but if you need help with it then say the word. I’m happy to help.” Was Cole Young offering to be your wingman? Or was he offering to beat up Liu Kang? Either scenario was kind of hilarious.

“I’m obviously defensive about it. I’m sure that it’s hilarious from the outside looking in but Liu and I have more history than I care to explain. I’m not ready to get into it with anyone. Not you and definitely not with Liu, either.”

“But that’s okay?”

“Yeah, it will be. I’m a pretty tough lady.”

“On a scale of one to ten just how supportive do you need me to be?”

“No scale. Just be yourself, Cole. You’re doing fine.”

“Even teasing you?”

“I’ve had worse teasing, trust me. I dated Kung Lao for years. Besides, it kind of lessens the frustration of it. Sometimes I get too serious and scary in my head. The joking grounds me a little.”

“Good to know.” Cole patted you on the back. It was nice having a friend to talk to. A friend that wasn’t Liu Kang. Not that you didn’t enjoy Liu Kang, things were just too complex between you right now. There was so much hurt and grief that you weren’t sure how things would pan out or if they would ever be fixable. And Cole was a good man. You enjoyed talking to Allison too and Emily had taken a shine to you. You hadn’t had the opportunity to be around kids in years and you were good with them at most ages. That was part of why you’d enjoyed running the dojo.

There was a knock at your door. You made to get up to answer it.

“I’ll get it. I’m on my way out anyway.” Cole stood and so you sat back down. You wouldn’t argue with him. Cole opened the door and there was Liu Kang, which was no surprise to you. You’d been expecting him to show up at some point. Who else would it have been, anyway? You were pretty sure that you’d rubbed Sonya and Jax the wrong way with all your talk of kidnapping. Cole stared Liu Kang down instead of greeting him and you tried not to laugh.

“Hello Cole.” Liu bowed his head politely in greeting. “I was hoping that I could speak with Y/N for a few minutes. Is she here? Did I come to the wrong room?” Liu peered around him and made eye contact with you. You offered him a curt wave.

“That’s up to her.”

You tried very hard not to laugh at the look of confusion on Liu’s face. He was bewildered.

“Of course it is.”

“You can come in, Liu.” You stopped that conversation before it got any weirder. Cole meant well, but wow.

“I was just leaving.” Cole clasped Liu on the shoulder as if to wish him good luck and then left, closing the door behind him after Liu had stepped past him. Liu watched the door close and then turned back to you. His expression was priceless. You’d have to thank Cole for that later.

Next Chapter >>

[skullsandwineglasses]

The Rebel Princess First Impressions (episode 16)

My first drama of 2021 and my first drama in 4 months. 

AvenueX’s harsh review piqued my interest, especially when she mentioned the high production quality of the drama and the list of talent that was behind the production of the drama. So I went into this drama knowing nothing about the plot, having high expectations for the production, and no expectations about the characters because of AvenueX’s criticism. I’ve always respected Zhang Ziyi because of her dedication to the art and her legendary filmography, but I wouldn’t call myself a fan. I agreed with AvenueX; ZZY has an aura and elegance that’s meant for mature, cold characters, so I was wary of her playing a Mary Sue who’s innocent and doted upon. 

I first saw Zhou Yi Wei when he played Zhao Liying’s classy, composed, protective, and rich older brother in My Glamourous Times. He’s not classically handsome, but there’s a measured confidence in the way he carries himself that exudes masculinity, and that’s also balanced by his more feminine qualities like his quiet, airy voice and his full lips. He also has an intense gaze that feels like he’s looking straight into the soul of whoever he’s speaking to. 

I also watched ZZY and ZYW’s collaboration on I Am an Actor, so I knew that the chemistry would be there between them. 

Okay, so enough preamble. Spoilers ahead. 

First 8 episodes:

I didn’t mind ZZY playing a young teenager. Yes, it does take a bit of getting used to, but kind of like the CGI in The Irishman, but it very soon doesn’t become distracting and you manage to suspend your disbelief. I came in expecting the worse, like an exaggerated caricature, but ZZY actually pulls it off quite well. Since this is a coming-of-age drama, it’s a given that the first few episodes are going to be about a main character who starts off as innocent, naive, and carefree. I’d rather have the main actress portray these young scenes than to have a completely differ actress do this. The first few episodes are meant to anchor you emotionally into the drama and to empathize with the FL. If you introduced ZZY after 8 episodes, you wouldn’t really emotionally connect with her since the trauma that catapults the character into maturity was experienced by the younger actress. So for me, the age was a non-issue. I was concerned that it would be cringey, but it wasn’t. It’s called acting ffs. Why can people play older characters when they’ve never been older, but people can’t play younger characters, even though they were once that age. I forgot how pretty ZZY is though. 

Sure, the FL is a Mary Sue, but I didn’t find her annoying. Maybe it’s because ZZY makes it work. Who knows. Essentially, everyone dotes in her, every man has a crush on her. She’s spoiled, she’s kind. She’s perfect. Her lineage is incomparable and powerful (even if a little incestuous). Not to mention a little corrupt as well. I guess she wasn’t annoying because she doesn’t try hard to be righteous. She has a privileged life and she’s just living with what she’s given. She only asks that she is able to have a love marriage instead of an arrange marriage. Typical, but understandable. 

My complaint is that I didn’t feel any chemistry between her and Zi Tan, the second prince. Unlike Ming Lan and Yuan Ruo in Story of Ming Lan, Awu’s first love just didn’t capture the imagination. Maybe it’s because ZYW’s Xiao Qi stole the show from early on, which made it hard to jump on board Zi Tan’s ship. 

Awu and Xiao only had a handful of interactions, but their chemistry is palpable (ZYW’s gaze is just....ugh swoon). They first meet that night at the festival where she unknowingly insults him and then he saves her and Zi Tan later that night. Then a couple episodes later, he saves her again when she falls off the roof during her escape from the crown prince. They only cross paths briefly 2 times in 4 episodes, and one of those times they weren’t even talking to ech other because she faints, and yet he’s totally taken by her. He’s a goner. But he know she’s out of his league, and so he keeps his feelings to himself, even though he can’t stop thinking about her and stays up at night staring at the moon remembering their 2 encounters. Talk about a slow burn. Insta love shouldn’t work, but again, it does here. 

I like Xiao Qi’s character. He doesn’t speak much, he doesn’t emote much, but he’s not the typical cold, distant, irritable ML from idol dramas. Xiao Qi isn’t afraid to love. He’s tender, gentle, composed, and calm. The sexual tension between him and Awu from when he rescued her to when they consummate their marriage is through the roof. He takes on the role of a husband by taking care of her, entrusting her fully with managing his household, puts her above everything else in his life, and always takes her side. He closes the distance between them while still giving her space, respecting her, and waiting until she’s ready. Even though he initially thought of himself ill-suited for her, once they’re married, he slowly wins her over. Episode 13 is obviously my favourite because that’s when Awu finally warms up to him. 

Honestly, this relationship only works because of the smitten looks that Xiao Qi gave her that night when they first met at the festival. Those few intrigued/amused looks carry this relationship for 13 episodes. And I love how he brings up that night again when he’s caring for her after he rescued her from Helan Zhen. 

Speaking of Helan Zhen, I find it funny how it sounds like Helian Zheng from The Rise of Phoenixes, and it’s played by the same actor too (edit: NOT the same actor. This is Yuan Hong who played Jin Si Yu in TROP, and a more veteran actor than than the one who played Helian Zheng. Should have known that ZZY would pick Justin Hong who has much more acting experience. TBF tho, with the facial hair, they look similar) and has similar costuming. 

In terms of the political storyline, it’s not bad, but it’s not great, so I see AvenueX’s criticism here. I haven’t watched too many political intrigues, but so far, nothing has been overly surprising or shocking. 

The level of acting and production definitely lives up to expectations, although I have noticed some jumpy cuts. Some of the night scenes in the palace also look kind of CGI though, especially the sky. 

General Song is great. The ML always has a loyal sidekick. The FL also always has a loyal maid, and a disloyal maid who betrays her. In this sense, the drama is quite formulaic. 

It’s also nice to see Kara Hui and Angie Chiu act opposite each other. Angie Chiu is obviously speaking cantonese, and it looks like Kara Hui also speaks cantonese when she has a scene with Angie Chiu, maybe to help her get immersed into the scene. 

Overall Impressions: My basic self is only watching this for the romance, which so far has been slow and minimal (but really good). Xiao Qi is completely absent in episode 16 unfortunately, which is about Awu gaining the respect of his army. 

I do think this is a good spot to pause though. There’s no angst yet. Awu and Xiao Qi are at a good place in their relationship, even if they’re temporarily physically separated for now. Emotionally, they trust each other. It’s them against the world. 

But I’m worried about the upcoming episodes. Based on comments from MyDramaList, it sounds like there are going to be misunderstandings by around episode 33ish, which I’m not happy about. I was hoping that it would be similar to Ming Lan and Gu Tingye’s relationship dynamic where they trust each other fully and there are no secrets or misunderstandings, and they work together against the antagonistic forces opposing them. But it sounds like the drama is going, to well, stir up drama between the leads. 

I powered through 16 episodes in 2 days, and only 41 raw episodes have been released. Which means that I’ll probably catch up within the next few days, and then I’ll have to play the waiting game until the finale at the end of February. So I’ll just take a pause now before things ramp up and I get too attached and maybe watch something else before coming back to binge this. 

[jmcfarlane]

DRONE3

DRONe3

.<0_O> — — µ — <_<)))) DRONe³ And other Poems and writings by James McFarlane Telepath/Necromancer James McFarlane·Friday, May 18, 2018 . Telepath may 2018 Pencil sharp, smoke a dart early morning engines start Crescent moon blue grass tunes frost on the window and my spoon. Dopamine and serotonin, pain relief telepath droning, a walk of life, on a limb buds froze until the dawn of spring. Train passing dread grasses, Sage burning sky lasting, electric currents flowing now, necromancer up and down, Dopamine and serotonin pain relief telepath droning, a walk of life on a limb buds froze until the dawn of spring. -Seumas Necromancer May 2018 Floating wearily but in some comfort overhead. Making sheets move on my bed. Conversations in and out, speaking without our mouths. Blue fires light up your darkness please don’t ever find me as heartless I love you always one two three here’s the bass now jam with me Exhale eternally into the mic, angel choirs out on strike. Necromancer up and down, rein / radius across town, soon I will return with thee to this town/life Ville/vie. –Seumas (New Revisions) James McFarlane +Seamus to thee, from my effort unsatisfied underground nothingdrones, its letting go and walking away from it to choose to lose, this is therapy now I need to go, you know it and I got the show on the road I’mtired and now am holding a rose, I’m loosing my grip on the following code DRONe -Seumas (James) Monday, February 22, 2016 OK thisone’s right off the wall: this is a strangely written and personal poem It’scalled “Siren heart Drone” (meant for a mature audience) A’ hem…. I’m nervous, I don’t freestyle often I wish there was a way to put this near the bottom of my timeline, it’ll be my latest and greatest lyric though, + POSETIVE INDUCTION — The positive attraction to your conductive psyche, is a form in itself existing in me, subjective almost ironically, the circuitry, being both electricity and imaginary cranked up high by your fun chemistry by way of the cerebral. (Which is flattering me) The circuitry with chemistry minus proximity, (causing a reaction deliberately) the electrical frequencies that you received from me were; artsy descriptions in accents I read. Other elements of me manifesting masculinity through my dorky frequency, gave off feedback that, officially; for me heralded the dawn of freed energy. So… metaphysical seed, dropped and sewn that day, (I guess what I am trying to say is): My girl my girl, don’t lie to me, oceans away your eyes can see, my bending sending light like this, in response to; the drone from your white laced lips. For the of lack of your treble and charge of your base, my “methadone”, White Light/White Heat, can take its place, anti-acidic mantra chi, surrounding me, a black dot in space. Divided by the curve encased, the metaphysical takes place. The fact that we’re in touch today, makes sirens blare and drones play, I’ll send this over right away, and then appropriately play, ‘beautiful face’ a newer way, I could elaborate for 3 straight days. Now what follows is what’s next on the fret board of your hex. It’s between, us; a fish out of net. So this will be all they get. ok here goes, ya, this is for the ladies in town I know that sounds weak but I blame the moons energy for you cute young women never being around when I finally spit the rhyme on solid ground, neway this is about you, you and the town where I choose, and choose to settle down instead of just stop swimming and drown, no more worries, no frowns, I’m gunna work it on out, cause I’m bound for the tides, not the sound, yea, ok, you know what I mean, yea k here I go, you ready? You steady? I stole the crown from the underground, I thought it would look nice with your gown, I’m upward bound so, are you down with my verbs and nouns? I don’t freestyle rap but this might as well be,flowin literally right now cause i come down hard with a sound that this new town including your highness have minds to breakdown, so get down breakdown, my chic mystique-psychologique will make you turn around and blush while your current boyfriends drunk on the ground cause he substitutes love with down, he doesn’t have an ear, genetically, to hear your siren sound for which I was born to kinetically harmonize, desensitize and heal your weary eyes. This is the treatment we need now ill even show you how, like a bow that goes up and down, helping us resonate these bloody strings, while the clipper ship sinks…… Sinks with the low tide.c’mon lets head home. The moons making my fire rise. That means soon it will be high tide, the ocean spray it stings my eyes, so let’s go inside, its morning time, look at color in the sky the sun is just about to rise. MY clipper ship’s on seas of rye. Empty bottles of scotch catch her in the eye. I’m not afraid of all those guys, they’re lucky they even have a sty. I’ve seen farms that would make you cry. These pale blue eyes are all but mine. And yours are like that brand of dye, that in our last summer together, we ALL tried, permanent like the purple in my mind’s eye or the in the dimly lit sky the night I officially died, all from a med, instead of one I took 10, benzodiazepines, all I wanted to do was compound the prescribed effect at the right dose they make a nervous wreck feel and appear normal so I took them, now I’m in debt, but only tried this cause u have me in check, ready to knock the crown off my head, make it your golden cauldron instead. You know I’m good with shocking steel and know how to forge blend anneal so this golden crown is probably real, and I assure u from the other room that it’s safe to use took a meal. Only cause it’s my deal I leave out the part about removing toxic alloys by melting steel, adding chemicals from the field and as the method never revealed used those same chemicals, that we all feel, all the time in our head to make tiny slow moving particles to turn make gold out of lead. So neways with confidence I said GO AHEAD! But I couldn’t lie to her, so I yelled from the other room, “u should know, that thing is gold but it use to be lead. She laughed, hesitated, placed the pewter cauldron on the stove instead and put the golden crown on her head. She finally walked down the hall and into her room where I was using dust pan and broom, she didn’t say nething, just got up on her bed which was shrouded with purple threads forgetting her glasses, still she picked up my book and read, I said here ill read aloud for you instead, within a few minutes of reading she started to turn red, the stove was on low so she got herself fed THAN served us both breakfast in bed. SUDDENLY I awake and see that we are parked at the end of a pier in some town in Quebec, I yell out stupidly from my stuper, WERE ON A PIER! She had good laugh about that occurrence on several occasions. but ya I took too many pills and was all sleepy on our road trip, all in all, yet again, I fed my head then lost all my cred, it being an accident, it made me sleep like the dead, that’s when I lost you, or you lost me, literally you looked everywhere and couldn’t find me, conscious or not, id soon figure id been stung by the bee, the most painful thing however, and my only memory was later that night when you were beside me, or was it he that got there before me, ok now I must stop and back up, the cheap words pouring from me, telling the details of this pathetic story it’s pissing me off, like losing the love of your life to a drug, and then officially to drugs plural, like 5 years of fucking up pretty much following this one night, the moment you realized you had lost the one girl, the one you compare every girlfriend you get ultimately fucking that up too, the one. its caused ache in whets left of my drug affected love starved blackened heart and caused my excellent poem to go right off the rails, so I’ll get on topic and ill even do it in rhyme, what inspires me to try to try, it’s the ache in my heart that is its key function now when I think of this girl and am reminded of the moment I lost her. ok here goes, regardless, we were in bed together, and from your sleepy head where your soul lies and you can never die, I heard your memories cry, and as I realized all the days I tried so hard to try but wouldn’t, couldn’t try and now I can’t cry is because I was always too shy in your unfulfilled eyes despite being my inspiration for the last 4 or 5 years of drugs and art with your recent if u can even call it that separation the focus intensifies about u and other girls like the sweet PortugueseIrish girl from the only psych ward I recommend at hotel diu in Kingston where I was actually treated properly (maybe cause it’s a catholic hospital, maybe cause I was so fucked up I appeared catatonic for days till this fox brought me down and romanced me for a month) she’s your competition….who contributed to my psychological cardiomyopathy however, a number of “the ones” but evenbefore that I was fucked up, I was the youngest psychiatric patient in Ontario or something, I learned how to smoke inside a smoking room in the shithole Scarborough grace when I was fifteen, I think I checked myself in hen I was twelve just to get away, that may have been what that asshole head of psychiatry was talking about. I also hit the highest highs, and the most demonic abysses of suicidal advanced psychotic depression, and took more abuse for it from nurses drs and the police, not to mention my family, but I still unconditionally love and am loved by my parents and grandparents, Jesus, I sacrificed my life and goals to save my families souls literally offed myself when I was 16 years old to end the devils elaborate foothold on me the people around the household appliances and machines, the behavior of living things the weather and the temperature of the room depending on my tortured state the only common theme is that others hurt and share it with me and my empathy kind of bounces back like an echo, I express and receive the grief while later, I only know this because when I fall, which I don’t do nemore thanks to medical science, its all about them.. but now this, she cried in her sleep and the only difference about these tears the ones that dried before her, is that the tears were for the two of us,not for being hurt but for me getting hurt and that hurt her, and it came out of her in a subconscious later state, kind of like me, this happened something like five years ago and it never gets old, ok , so here’s how THIS sad story goes; back to you, we were basically sleeping on the ground, I was tied up and bound, mothers little helper’s cheque bounced, I stupidly blame the devil in benzos but as of last Chinese new year I now denounce him, clonazepam is free from sin,(the cure), which I am resistant to so even though in the name of a better life I took 1/16th of an ounce I was still wide awake laying beside you, thinking only to myself about how I fucked up, it wasn’t even my own script at the time like u even need to know this it was a gift from the big Mc the tragically crip former editor in chief of legal manuscript, this bug makes the dj tick, and he made me, (sick) so (to this day I thank god for the count and amount per pill per day,,, throw your troubles away and pray that it was ok to stray from your holy bible, “psychology today”) So I was now bound for the pound, complete and total disgrace all around, from the moment u made that sound I knew our plans were going down that I would leave town, shoot smack and somehow return because YOU specifically gave the instruction to COME BACK! But things got whack I dropped out of school after taking philosophy which I passed, took drugs then relaxed let the nothing drone blare and move towards and away from the past managed to stay out of the psycho shack and somehow followed the chemical and psychological path out of the woods, fuck that was one long sidetrack, but it’s over, now, it took a year of wandering to end it but I did so…back before I initially left town your eye lids were down. I’d spent our whole friendship collectively letting you down by being ur favorite one in town and not responding in a way that could let us…. Fuck I was a clown,ever since I pulled a sigmen froid and used white to get off opiates it’s been renown but like the psychologist before me once declared, down (heroin) so satisfying in the right dose, has basically fulfilled their open ended prediction for the drugs future, in one shot like vaccine, the queen of all drugs, administered in the highest healthy dosage intravenously is the cure all found in Montreal, and then a deliberate clean cut from all non prescribed recreational narcotics, that is until the dreaded lady in white shows up on ur doorstep, I say let her in, and move away never to see her again, with the experience and satisfaction of the act of consuming heroin as your catalyst to change your life and only take clonazepam. So before all that we had a healthy friendship, it was doomed but I loved you so u kept me around and there was all sorts of ways we got down without ever fooling around except this time I discreetly describe further down when my phone ran out of batteries while you went to town , I thought I was a fuckin martyr because all id make u do is dance, that’s the gods truth so baaaack to me not being a creep, I geometrically see the opposing symmetrical verticy of our rhombus reveal its true ego as FUCKING TRAPAZOID when I hear your inner pain, I’m no hypnotist (yet) but u were zonked after a day of mosh pitting ultimately falling for the other guy, while I slept in the grass like an ASS. you let out a whimper in your sleep and two out of three of us knew, this chick is deep, from then on I took the title of weak, I had let my biological ancestors down with swords in their hands and in my hand your crown, and still I let you down, AND YOU STILL even tried several sexy and awkward times to make it happen and I let you down, u can tell a social disease when the same set of words are used multiple times to rhyme with other words that have that sound i.e. : I let you down. In that strange little town. It’s been well over a year and to end on a harmonious note after all this purple melancholy. I’m gunna say two words to you and they are not” “I do” It’sI’m sorry. I’m sorry lately for this poem, but mostly I’m sorry for not maturing into the man you thought I could be. I’m recovered from my early episodes now, took 16 years but I used the gear to properly hear and respond without fear, if only I did this within the time frame we had, Now were both sad. And I don’t wanna upset u, ur glowie or ur boyfriend or neone else, soo I’m gunna play a song, it’s called : one thing that keeps this black heart beating””(referring to my heart: that “upturned bass drum” The thing that keeps it beating is the dissonant and strangely beautiful siren song that echoes in my mind as the inspiration, “love” and the knowledge that one can be loved and in my case always, I only philosophies with the partial use of solid evidence that I have been loved by the one I love therefore at and for that moment(pretty much after the momentmy phone died, after 30 seconds of reading trainpotting aloud, there was a subconscious subjective foggy notion that was there to be discovered by the psyche, at this moment I can prove using circumstantial evidence and truth know by both partied involved, the dependant factor being me loving her forever, and the independent factor her being a single indecisive woman looking for a man who will love her forever combining to make a positive chemical and physical reaction, that is the fundamental tradition that is the goal of all living things on this plant and its most evolutionary form of it is when it’s “Love based” one giving the other what its most in need of and deprived of, the others love, not the love of a friend, but physical experiments that are love based, expressing love on not necessarily a physical level (like if ur on the phone or sumthing)but specifically a sexual level. The compounding factors that result in reactions happenings crescendos babies,, are when the energy isn’t circular but moves in one direction, when the one party is starved, and the other has a wealth, and the act of giving not just what the yearning needs, but what he wants, when the desired with all her wealth, imparts her secret harbored denied expression love though tradional reproduction based activities, that friendship goes from “limbo” into action, even for a moment, through technology that alerts the senses, in this case hearing, whether the deprived is even present or physically participating, isn’t the point the point is that the foggy notion of true love was expressed transmitted in a traditional and pivotal form, even though I picked up the transmission through one sense, my ability to hear, the value of those vibrations, though lo-fi and misinterpreted until the last few seconds before the line went dead the compounding nature of the universe is seen between you and me, me and the chemicals and elements the acid the love that is positively charged by me and only me, in this battery regardless of proximity my charge is still the key, literally loving you moved energy directly making me alternately free but obviously reflects its imperfections symmetrically and quite similarly to your perfect face and body only introspectively and this thing I call negativity you existentially use to control and manipulate me by means of electrical currents like a shark in the sea, but the ocean currents in our world somehow moved me so far we couldn’t be but as the drone turns up the heat as chemists cure insanity, inevitably the duality of the friendship followed the trail right back to me, from the beach into the city, while metaphysical acid rain fell on her black umbrella, drops of synthetic nightshade provided a ground and a side effect equaled a perfectly balanced sound resembling a circuit around my neck and down to the nervous wreck, I stand and smoke out on the deck, and remember that was how we met I stop, wait my energies charge self provides, enough energy to survive, with my new social activity the acid, charge, size, speed and proximity and the voltage of the current and relativity. My positively charged abilities that betray the moon like your fertility, a simple circuit can’t explain the lovesick emotional pain still forming drops of acid rain only strengthening my brain, its time I have to get reactive, send this to her radically brilliant highly attractive yet negatively charged mind where chemicals of another kind will get inspired as she reads about batteries and his energy (that she secretly lovingly keeps rightfully under her locks and key with her sharp mind and memory should recall the flattery, the almost dead battery, poetic license and mad hattery finally gets me through the matter we, lost all sense of pattern, see, the point was electricity, and keyboards I would never see, played like a former prodigy, with drones that resonate with me just barely metaphysically, through my sleep deprived behavior induced heightened state, I’ve always been able to wait, epiphanies sometimes come too late, but revelations give me faith that your negative mind and my positive state, memories of how u altered fate, I know threes more to come but wait, don’t get offended by my state , my batteries dead so save the date, remember wiser things I’ve depictions finished in your head, an electrician would have briefly said, what took me hours, in ten minutes u will have read, I must finish without my meds, they knock me out, blow to the head, I’ll miss away you time instead, that lilliad inside your mind….it’s way too late you’re so unkind, but one important thing u need, to know I know u love to read, do not read too much to your seed, it makes a flower yer indeed, with pain killing power guaranteed, but this makes a subconscious need to find a source for output feed, destined to be completely freed ad finally have the urge to read, its therapy apparently, the experiment of reading aloud and they drift off on angels clouds, you think their gunna make you proud, well brace yourself, speakers are loud, they developed and were well endowed, language and its mystic power it not to be strewn on the flowers, this is my dependant variable, the words the use on me were terrible, a bird a seed knowledge unbearable, though every word is understandable, hypnotic methods subconscious dependable, lovely developmental psychology is the cause of my constant source of energy what I was born to do was reap, infinite knowledge in my sleep a steady drone of literature, I’m older now administer reality and life in place of shame rejection and disgrace, aside from my abilities that serve me independently, instinct survival evolution, speed all factors meant to help me breed, but would you read that to your seed, your surly growing potent weed, I’m not a normal human being I spend time speaking hearing seeing, proving while your disagreeing now the sheep are all fleeing, my purpose hear is slowly weaning I’m a negative source of positive energy, that means nothing drones glowies and friends that are enemies, all that I needs a path and an receiver, a sound to ride on, subwoofer and tweeters, it’s the music u shared with me that keeps me going The proof that our signal reached desired objectives, was clear to my ear which contained an elective, my minds using psychology to be less selective, behavioral science removes the block painlessly love, loss and malpractice grew my circuitry aimlessly, evolving survival instincts team with nature, my chemical background makes life like a phase, the instincts resulting are acute like a razor and amplified abilities through manipulating manipulative chemicals without wavers, resulting in behavior that can reach and amaze her… the extent of the damage is to be overlooked, by using knowledge and memory or reading a book design and time weren’t key features its transference of whines from student to teacher, let me out of detention you feminine creature ill read aloud it’s the right way to reach her, the demand and supply was shot at the sky and with lasers for eyes that reflect off her kind I was surprised to find that in no time I heard her wine, go out of her mind, and through her elective design I read junkie sublime and the fidelity was just fine for my desensitized mind. Literally proving her love up against my undying lazerlove therefore, proving that from that moment in time It was (now literally) one(the one) and another(me) falling “in love “officially identified by the subjective and objective forms that equal true love, for a time, which in rhyme and time I now feel it was divine, it’s began and ended in one harmonious line (in a Scottish accent no less) and buried in our minds getting weaker over time the signal is dying the whine and her trying has kept me flying farther away for lack of a sign that she was officially mine, but my nose it did grind on the stone learning life through the drone all on my own stealing crowns off of thrones, almost completely destroying my home, getting dipped in chrome, and then ground to the bone,, but that’s ok now because I how I know, I made her come through a phone, I’ve reaped what id sewn, now I am grown, with skills to hone no more wearing a cone, from the unknown to the known heralded by the morningdrone which is an inaudible tone interacting metaphysical rods and cones in my everlasting home among milestones made of greymatter behind bone in the form of the intangible moan that has royalties owned by the one xylophone a tone so foreign and feminine it may be that of a banshee or crone, the soil of my subconscious, is where I’ve been instructed and shown but my chance was blown there already something growin that knows the suns light is shown, now I’m alone, why did I buy that bus ticket when I could have flown. Another way of iterating this love story is an s follows introduction, obstruction instruction, induction, seduction production reduction destruction I’m trying to link two portions of this production, causing a reaction like a light turning on send notification from yin to yang (2 great friends of the opposite sex ultimately consummating their union in the way nature wanted it to be) but for us it was highly evolved in that even over the lo-fi filter of cell phones she was sending her love, whether she got off or not that id like ton know, but,, I got the drone of her during, (which if I’m not wrong is typically the main attraction for most women, their anatomy makes for a better “during” in her case conveniently, I’ll admit, without my flawed physical presence, I’m sure she didn’t just give up when my phone ran out of batteries, she was by the banks of her own lagoon, , the stimuli for me, the understanding an witnessing this correlative reaction, correlative because based on all the evidence, the great friendship which was WE were In Love,,,, that passes by my standard and I’m a philosophy grad, this Idea of me and this one girl being in love ISNT EVEN PRAGMATIC like most of my theories, the ONLY thing that get in the way of it being classified as nething between us other than, well I’m afraid to word it frankly because it makes y philosophy look dumb, the only factor threatening this TRUTH, this explainable objective form, is.. the time frame, the setting and the timing of the whole ordeal, my argument is that my reserved intense devotion that was pretty much spellbound, was appropriately (although delicately and let’s say modernly)relieved back to square one, literally and true even though it’s in the days ahead, metaphysic means dead.\\ I’m pretty lonely, so I make allot of art these days, like so; since she left me for dead and we both had left town, with thoughts of her crying asleep on the ground, my mind plays a drone, just to keep the pain down, it’s the girls very essence, oh to hear those pipes sound, if I was there this reel could have burned her house down, But our minds were both trying, Scottish lyrics I had, her bagpipes were sighing, and droning like mad, even though I was dying to get under her plaid, her fingers were flying and the lyrics were “rad the sound of her drones blared through the aero phones, I had broken a string and the bow had no rozen, but her body remembered what she had forgotten, string breaking caused her heat up and harden, this dissonant silence was her chance to depart from his flaws and his jigs and his odds and his rigs and ivy wrapped wand honey drippin upon this Venus in tartan who gushed forth the art of his masculine heart, the yin joins the yang and d string goes twang, The key that she played in was the string that I broke;I awoke in a doria mile off the coast. I swear by the sword of Ulysses and QueenMary’s crown you can’t quiet this siren when she fools around. Sending me to the moon and abyss on her sound It’s siren heart drone and that’s written in stone like I said, STELLAR, and you can TELLHER, most likely shell be a be a BETTER SPELLER, most likely ull say THE WORST THING EVER cause you’re a BULLSHIT SELLER, wave got mutual friends that FLOCK TOGETHER, social cannibals up shit creek FOREVER “sharp fanged teeth sheep” identified by Brethr in touch with friends of mine with FEATHERS, who govern karma AND THE WEATHER harmonizing OUR ENDEVOUR dissonance and TAKING PLEASURE in currents charged “+”, sea vessel PROPELLERS droning on for OH SWEET NEVER, nothing “like” inevitably BETTER the next “day, mon” frère, myself sharply dressed, a new pair of ‘GO GETTERS’ high, but fly, “the local YELLER” inscribes, as I dictate the true, (and prescribed), (in “”blood)-”LETER”! …BUY LETTER!”technique””’s psychology thesis of persuasion,-through love cure for; pain from shame stemming from taking the blame for the psychopaths that are perfectly sane who corporally, “embodying hells flames, wicked games to derange, the use of tools to cause pain, so the hands free to gain more control without shame ….and words that confuse and lead them in. vein cutting through lies and psychosomatic pain” making it rain your blood to put out the flames, an empty vessel that openly claims he righteously bears the right to OFFSET karma in his favorite time double negatives stuck on rewind with the fist or the tool of thing without mind, just current flowing into itself sustaining itself by shackling you with a voice that speaks truths that the vessel and devil greedily use to ultimately abduct you consume love your subconscious would refuse to give, to lose, so you wind kicking yourself while he rips on your soul defacing and displacing what’s left of you, what set you apart from a caved in shoe who’s uneven because the others got two, souls are unbreakable but if he breaks you, ill have the words the voice and the truth, the vessel in which to put soul into you, love and affection reflecting on you a new pair of shoes and so basically you feeling loved and in good mood no longer producing that parasite food, by walking and talking, souls in your shoes, while my bare feet support prescribed truth, a chemical network of mes and you ultimately held together with glue your love is the only way I can get through my psychological problems of which I have used to heat cook and serve us both food they drive me to supplementing love with miscues, attempts to draw a good picture of shoes, that drawn the attention of someone like you, or someone who offers a love I can’t refuse, because it me who also has many a bruise, the glue the chemical I trust and I use are prescribed and administered with bruit force and tools, leaving the chemically gifted unloved and unused and undone on the run with the songs you have sung, giving u satisfaction, and leaving u hung out to dry by the sick and the dumb, and the one, that u can give a gift to, is the only way we can say I love you and the fact that we are is what makes it true now I can scrape this shit right off your shoe, here goes, gimme my cloths my cigarettes prescribed glue, a roof over my head a bed and you, and then maybe I’ll start wearing shoes, here’s my complex singing the blues, from my effort unsatisfied underground nothingdrones too, its letting go and walking away from it to choose to lose, this is therapy now I need to go, you know it and I got the show on the road I’mtired and now am holding a rose, I’m loosing my grip on the following code,I’ll let the field talke care I m old, its time to end thiflodi broke the mouldand me with my everything about the shoe, its maker your sou out your soul leaving with bound by psychosocial with day moon SETTERS. home made psychopath GET ER, and lose her to a knitted SWEATER meant to the and if shit hits the fan in my house you become a fuckin CAVE DWELLER you officially for me heralded the dawn of freed energy so metaphysical seed dropped and sewn that day I guess what I a tying to say is seroquel can kill the day and lithium when charged can phase can kill your kidney and your craze over sirens who’ve been underground their perfect face and al around static in the air and sound of talismans and something foud induction tells you write this down what she conducts may flood the town, and this guythatts on the other line isn’t he a project of mine, sais nurse so cute and fine that flirt with my bipolar mind could his stimuli be cut, (if my nurse heard that shed bust my nut the think I’m guna get more worse nuclear winters parallel universe but bipolar ppls irony ill crack the joke an ice your nuclear explosion twice a day while I’m away leading weak dicks astray but giving your negative drones away the moans that I’m familiar with the point is I’m sick, was born with antennae metaphic that can even change channels like sappic girl on girl to girl on me altering duality and that what I get for free cable metaphysically so u better charge your battery, start the car pray she needs a guy with speed, instead of the duality of loving and love being received define love for me because lm low on batteries, finally the irony iron like steel I’m not even funny she gave me a drone that carried me home plate metal armor still that suckers dethroned all because of the ironic poem guaranteed to call my home circuitry and sacred tones, hooked up to my broke dying alone charge that she hears in my voice instinct are what’s the driving force to be my Venus in furs of course striking my eardrums while art of a new form could cure my heart, when deprivation and avant-garde combine to make things into art the the thing that makes drones stop and start my wordsandfingers take a form that independently grows horns, what an art to harmonize your frequencies with, smart, you dirty little butter tart you were supposed to cure my heart at least u got it throughtome you rising storm makes my anteenae start to channel lo-fi forms a and v imnow starting to clearly see I got to hear pure femininity express its love physically, while the ironic truth is easy to see, that my talisman masxulinity had no hand in physically and so my strengths like mediocrity, thisescwe took a short boat that sent out a masculine frequency that was enough to ride that came through the airwaves only a dined, to start your engines, and the elements it’s the charge that ironically subjectively means of a whim of a, separating you from me and that despite ur reaction objective by only induction by the ma lonely ur still a part of me, like the wasted energy of a missing battery that from within bears a charge, that was meant to be, the high voltage current, of hot energy. wat a grT TRIP THIS IS, ALTHOUGH ONG AND UNCOMFORTABLE AT LES I STILL HAVE ROCK AND ROLL AND BY DIVINE TIMING WE TOO A STROLL ADNTALKED A LITTLE THATS MY GOAL AND NOTHING DRONES AND HEAVY STONES WERE LEVITATED WITH THE MOAN OF SIRENSS BUT YOUR NOT A PHONE AND NO SUPRIZE CANT LEAVE ALONE OW I THRIV OFF DIAL TONED CAUSE IM DEPENDANT ON YOU STONE THE TALISMAN YOU CALL MY HHOME AND THAT TIE YOU CALLED ME ON THE PHON YOU WERE IN MY HEAD SAFE IN YOUR HOME BAD TIMING AND A HEAVY TONE BATTERIES DEAD: NOW WERE NOTHING DRONES…………………………………………………………….. thisescwe took a short boat that sent out a masculin frequency that was enough toride that came through the airwaves only a denied, to start your engines, and the elements it’s the charge that ironically subjective by means of a whim of a, separating you from me and that despite urreaction objective by only induction by the ma lonely Seroquel can ‘kill. The day’, and lithium (when charged) can phase, can kill your kidneys and your ‘“crazy” laser ray’s perspective.’ Meant for sirens, waves, underground stalactites, space, and drops of acid rain onto your base. Meant to cauterize with time and phase the straight; your sex, the Vikings take, and that edge they use to reap and waste. ((their secret way through; to slice through the glazed over passageway, that freezes waves of blood they made. Turned to crimson ice seen by my red hot rays, melt into salty ocean sprays) Then not so far away at night I kill the day and reap twilight, my heat turns from red to white like scars that weep acid rain despite my efforts, however insane, you do this over and over again) Relief; from emotional THEN/BY physical pain. In that order, we’re both deranged. here goes, gimme my cloths my cigarettes prescribed glue, a roof over my head a bed and you, and then maybe I’ll start wearing shoes, here’s my complex singin the blues, from my effort unsatisfied underground nothingdrones, its letting go and walking away from it to choose to lose, this is therapy now I need to go, you know it and I got the show on the road I’m tired and now am holding a rose, I’m loosing my grip on the following code, It’s meant for: a couple; of different: ppl 1 knø james ((pérsunµli); ‘(urThInKn èù¹d “Like¹¹ i+ Th0µGh))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))) ) — ¹o-² øس=FOUR!!!!!!!!²O_O³⁴!! (0_0)T0o?O_o)❤µ¼FOR¼ldd.”( þ+¹na!’(LOL!)?,X&Y” =ø(þ iN þÉd àvèç¹<>³µ)/(µø+þ²)ùþ³@ — ¹²³¹²³¹²³¹²³ James McFarlane• Ideas About mental Illness — James McFarlane Here’s my theory on paranoia. (Usually considered a negative symptom of psychosis) It can help gather information or misinform those who experience it. Even in wellness it is always potentially present in all of us. It’s a survival instinct. It makes us more attentive. My unique experience and understanding is when paranoia and other symptoms are present, heightened and amplified alertness to important information perceived by the senses is collected and whatever data is missing the brain either fills it in with logical thought or logical hallucination in some cases. I will further iterate this several ways for you to better grasp it. For most people there is so much excess data you wind up believing a falsity. Simple logic should let you know best which is most accurate among the extra data collected by suspicion, inner thoughts and hallucination ultimately fitting like Lego into the fractured “factual” data perceived. I believe mostly it is our internal sense of logic that is used to make hallucinations like dreams that appear similar to our regular reality. It is your sense of logic that determines how accurate the thought or hallucination might be compared to reality. It is hard to determine between reality and hallucination because hallucination adheres to reality. But if you can detect like in a lucid dream (aware of being in a dream) that it’s a hallucination you’re ok. It’s not that difficult to determine what thought or hallucination fits if you’re experiencing (or expecting) allot of symptoms having an automatic thought process that simplifies things by showing the most accurate possibility alone to the individual by involuntary thoughts and possibly hallucination. This can be a more accurate depiction of what’s not reachable by the actual senses. The point or idea is that hallucinations and involuntary thoughts mimic reality as best they can, so, they can be used to determine what is beyond our senses reach either corresponding with the senses themselves (hallucination) or through mind talk (which is the method that most mimics what we call telepathy and is much more controlled and has less effect on your behaviour and environment than hallucination). This mind talk or “intrusive thoughts” can be our sense of logic. It’s our sense of what’s real that makes up our involuntary thoughts and hallucinations so they’re may be an ounce or two of truth in them even though they aren’t real they can be identical ideas to what is really there. This is to be used for those who can’t see or hear what are out of reach of their senses like sonar or radar and further aid those who have and impairment or just want to experiment with extending their senses. This only applies to the unwell. Like I have said amphetamine could mimic the hypomanic state in regular people perhaps. This could be a tool for treating a range of mental disorders. Depression, lack of communication in certain critical mental conditions.(Alzheimer’s etc.) It’s not just guessing at involuntary thoughts and hallucinations, the tool combines accurate and distorted data collected by the senses. This extends the senses that help us try to understand. (Only some of us may have this as a mental pattern). You may be calling this a delusion well I call a delusion an idea. And remember, an idea can make the body including the brain do interesting things. Mono ideo dynamics Determining what’s real and what’s not isn’t a problem here, you know what’s a thought and an actual sound or hallucination when this is occurring so if they combine to make a more accurate awareness with good results than it doesn’t matter whether it’ telepathy or a mental tool isolated to the mind its generating data for the individual I assure you. Collecting data even from other people’s minds is definitely a factor in this theory (it’s a tangent but it’s important.) Involuntary thought is inner thought that appears to be info coming from an obvious source or other person. This is when the argument for delusion is most appropriate. Telepathy is a possible conclusion in the case of mind chatter or involuntary or external thoughts unlike ‘sense extension’ which is a potential tool involving similar aspects but also the actual environment. The mind to mind thing doesn’t involve physical reality like the sense extension theory which involves hearing and assuming all five senses if you were sick enough could improve the perception of our environment by way of hallucination corresponding with the senses, verses logical lingual additions to your line of thought (involuntary thoughts) which can be thought alone (mind talk) This opens a window to hybrid hearing combining involuntary thought with semi audible data, this was my first discovery and personal experience along the line of useful mental activity. So I would call it all external or involuntary mental data. The reason I included the telepathy as idea in this was because sense extension which may be provable is using the same material our thoughts are made of suggesting that the other ideas are worth experimenting with. I suggest mental information can be projected into the metaphysical reality affectively by a person just like shouting a person’s name. This is blatantly how it works from my perspective. What we imagine goes out into the air and some of us are there to hear it within our thoughts; mind chatter. Talking to yourself in your head as well as other transmissions or incoming additions. Not something we do all the time. Some people rarely do it or experience it. These are introspective expressions nevertheless they are the fabric of what sense extension involves. So if sense extension, (because it uses the senses, reality and hallucination/involuntary thought) can be tested and valuable info is collected from those tests, because of its use of involuntary thoughts which mimics telepathy, it could help prove or add merit to the idea of telepathy and its other explanations that are as follows. Proving telepathy involves seeing how things like sense extension is in the same weave as actual things we use or experience like thought, mental chatter, hallucination, dreams. This part of the universe is becoming objective when using a hybrid or functional form to better understand our surroundings. Just believing in these functions and experiencing them improves your regular perception and observational skills. These are hybrid metaphysical tools for perceiving your surroundings by use of hallucination and or thought and actual fractured data picked up by the senses. I tackle this mind chatter idea more so because it’s a solid symptom that doesn’t fail, like hallucination often does. Thoughts in the form of language coming from people around you or your multipersonalitied conscience is a good thing as long as it’s a good thing. When it no longer is in the range of being able to be used as a tool, these thoughts can be turned off or turned on by meds and belief or disbelief in the idea. But when it’s happening properly, like in hypomania, it does act as an aid in awareness of what’s most likely going on in other people’s thoughts. It informs you of the most likely thought usually in relation to you, aiding you every time by making you aware of something you didn’t know before. Word for word telepathy is a miracle, mental chatter that informs you of what’s most accurately going on in other people’s heads by way of involuntary lingual statements in the mind is not. It’s worth investigating, it’s a gift that has never led me to harm, only understanding. The fact that it’s in your head makes it a passive process where you have the option of responding or not, verbally or mentally if you’re a believer in telepathy. You can have communications, often in the form of mental lingual impressions from people around you, as long as their chattering in their heads. More often they respond verbally or through body language. (This could be also called a thought related delusion, and it probably is) Like sense extension it helps figure out without effort what’s most likely going on somewhere else but this involves getting a mental impression of what’s going on in someone else’s head and apparently only if It’s about you or directed to you, mostly. Telepathy and sense extension go hand in hand. What’s real and usable and what’s a symptom may need to be looked over and not just thrown in the isolation chamber. Mind chatter and thought insertion are two different things I think. Thought insertion means you think someone or something else is in your head and it is overwhelming. Mind chatter or “telepathy” follows a pattern of logic that is more precise than your own usually, it follows a rule, I am certain of it. That’s why it’s better to use cause it’s your intuition delivered lingualy. Thought insertion is like having someone else in control, whereas mind chatter is somewhat under control and mostly in your control as you are the experienced one. Involuntary thoughts (other people’s voices) could be telepathy and if it follows such a dynamic and structured law it should not be called thought insertion. Sense extension is something more practical and objective than telepathy type thinking, but it is untested and like I said, I deal with mind talk even when I am well and it is always accurate and helpful. The idea of partly using data from the peripheries of our trusted senses shows that these elements are not to be underrated or mislabelled. The fact that we can only see farther stars in the sky by looking off to the side is a great example of use of the peripheries of our senses. Similar is my experience of seeing peoples more true emotions on their faces when using peripheral vision. Is esp or just one example of a passive and informative hallucination? Let us not throw aside my interpretation of the experience of useful and unique mental activity by giving it the unattractive label of thought insertion when the fundamentals of these ideas may be useful for inventing evolution like tools to reach out into parts of the universe we have not yet studied. Distorted senses combined with an inherent logical thought process that is accurate if not pragmatic I my experience in every case. This could be an opportunity to reopen the study of parapsychology. (The fact that these are just an accurate perception mechanism is good enough). To reveal this delusion, we’ll assume all this is still only going on in one’s active imagination. However using a pattern of brain activity that mimics telepathy as a tool to read his/her environment better is cool; the only difference this has to sense extension is that there is no real life data involved. This in my opinion makes it the most commonly used and confronted with, solid, and most effective tool I deal with. (even when well) There are practices like muscle reading which is getting data through seeing a person’s movement that are examples of a semi proven method that mimic things like telepathy. I propose mental activities that are involuntary and positive like some of the symptoms of a mental illness, could be used as a link between what we see as dysfunctional mental activity and a breakthrough into the endeavour to prove that thoughts are part of our dynamic world as a form and can be used as a medical or social tool. This mental activity in serious cases of unwellness can alter the way we operate, not just the way we think. Paranoia could take over and it could be false data, and the repercussions could crescendo. In their reality and in reality itself. I say listening to your thoughts (whatever form they take) and interpreting them, it’s safer than experimenting with hallucination because mind chatter can be a factor in hypomania and in wellness. Only in the case of hallucination being used in a controlled environment with positive energy being present, for instance with a schizophrenic, they can be very well while hallucinations are still present. If in that state the hallucination tends follow what the senses are trying to perceive and use a situation like the sense extension experiment involving hallucination and obstructed hearing it may prove to be a good tool/idea possibly for aiding the hearing impaired in this situation or a similar situation that works. It could work because it could fill in more data where it was lacking and it may inherently be attempting to be accurate. This attempt is evident in other mental processes mentioned here. In the case of experimenting with this type of thing never should you be depressed manic, psychotic or over whelmed with psychological issues. If you are in an unwell state seek help, but be open to the new ideas that may present themselves to you. Know that the brain is elastic and does heal. The hippocampus and you are always growing. If it’s suggesting that its telepathy aiding us and guiding us that makes you sceptical I’m not going to just drop it. Be pragmatic and get a bit more insight into how it worked for me. First off, all that makes it telepathy as I’ve said is that it only involves thought. One thing that suggests that it is a thought from another source is the amount of unusable but accurate information that comes along with these seemingly incoming transmissions. It behaves like a mental environment that doesn’t involve just you; the metaphysical plain. You mostly hear in your thoughts what applies to you from those around you but there is other mental exclamations at times coming from different sources for different destinations, or in most cases mental exclamations just for themselves. Also getting an involuntary thought of apparently what is being said somewhere completely out of reach of the senses is a factor here. This is bigger than the structure of telepathy. If you are being talked about in the other room the brain informs you of it and who is saying it, this is clearly a survival instinct to gain intelligence of what may be out there and what most likely is, this type of sense may be evidently seen and utilized more by animals than humans. Probably because of the invention of language, putting the sense in recession. These ideas suggest that the metephysical plain is not just in my head but is there for everybody (and that privacy may be an issue.) The experienced and well user of the mental functions could actually receive and send out positive and effective transmissions with a ripple effect, real or not. (for what it’s worth, even to gain confidence and boost chemicals, respond and react accordingly to these transmissions and you’ll find it fits and improves your presence and role in the situation, that’s my experience) while the sick are just spiralling and not even communicating because their usually using negative or confusing behaviour or energy. What’s also evident of its existence is the obviousness the transmissions go both ways. I’m not just getting your impression of me in my thoughts; it’s obvious you’re getting mine. Its conjoint mental activity. It involves everyone but I think it requires a guide. If these are just symptoms, they rarely intensify and do dissipate more or less with wellness. I say if it’s not the metaphysical plain it’s at least explained by two minds appearing to correspond by (often coincidentally) one playing out the others activity as accurately as it can within the mind. This as a law would be evident enough to prove telepathy. I see a constant pattern in when the transmitters communicate, that they are thinking that thought and responding to one another (seen though body language and verbal responses. That’s telepathy like activity rationalised. It’s not always word for word because often I ask and they say no I did not think those words. Apparently it’s a mental impression of yourself delivered in the form of verbal thoughts or inaudible expressions from other people in the vicinity or elsewhere. Finally the hybrid hearing idea.The most effective and safe of the ideas here. (Thought and hearing mixed) It would be hard to disprove because of a lack of qualified candidates and the scenarios required. The hybrid hearing idea like I’ve said is not activity isolated only to thought, but the idea that involves using factual data and the imaginary simultaneously. Sense extension without hallucination. Deciphering between actual sense and involuntary thought is easy, you know what you hear and what you think, they become conjoint in some mental states indicating that the possibility of an extension “fill in the blacks” scenario. Know that this involves either an overactive imagination. The logical involuntary lingual thought mental activity combined with the brains attempt to hear the less audible is a marriage that could create the extension of the impaired or out of reach sense (hearing in this case) What I propose is happening here may be hearing the bass of a conversation because bass carries farther, and your mind places the other frequencies (treble) in the form of an involuntary imaginary sound. I suggest this is too intricate and accurate to be delusion. To actually be aware of the volume according to the distance or nature of the info that comes from not the unknown but an obvious source is evident of that intricacy. The psychotic skills talked about here are among the skills we’re all born with. All humans are capable of psychosis. Which is the foundation of these things. I just find mania to be safe, similar and more of an advantage. Our brains and beings all have an inner need and desire to figure out what is reality. Even when that reality is obstructed, it uses other means to get around to perceiving the world correctly. This line of thought has the potential to be a step forward in changing others view of these symptoms. To suggest that they are meant to be enhance to our advantage, not abolished; this is the stuff of change at an evolutionary level because as I said earlier it does involve everybody and anybody. The Chemically Endowed / THE HEALTH SYSTEM James McFarlane June 1st, 2016 Mania is the increasing of one’s “reward” chemicals in the brain chronically (a symptom of Bipolar). A fact about mania is that it is not so often as out of control as we are tempted to assume. We don’t know the limits it can push positive wise. A negative aspect is surely something that we have seen occasionally. An example could be a world leader like Alexander the great. On the positive side of it are people like Van Gough and many other artists, teachers and authors. Making tireless efforts at just causes inspired by epiphany is just one of the activities a bipolar individual has the option of pursuing. (Sometimes with phenomenal results) This can be a positive activity of the broad ranged individual. Mania is an abundant source of potential positive energy. The mythical Greek god Dionysus has been called the god of mania. He partied allot and was the estranged son of Zeus. There were cults formed in his honor and the remanence of them still exist today as a common and highly manipulated, manipulative tradition known as the entertainment industry. Antianxietys, antidepressants, antipsychotics and mood stabilizers; drugs that (have attributes that researchers have neglected to even identify) help and plague the bipolar individual as the most commonly used tool to ward off symptoms. In some cases, recreational drugs like amphetamine ((that seem to force up the mood of an individual) among drugs that are normally oriented with unwellness)) I suggest, could be a surprising aid in speeding up the recovery process of depression (the opposing symptom in bipolar to mania which have psychosis as a common theme at the peripheries of both poles of experience) through cognitive stimulation. This is important because antidepressants take several weeks to take effect and suicide could be prevented by the induction of a more open approach to medical uses of recreational drugs. This activity should be combined with social interaction in the case of recovery because it surrounds the recovery of the social aspects of the self (I do not recommend this as the first option for a recovery process). Like most drugs this behavior may take years off the recovery process but could wind up taking years off your life. If closely watched and tested the medicinal benefits of illegal or unreaserched drugs as well as further data released on drugs in general and their common circumstances may be a great stride in the remedy of mental, psychological conditions and social misconceptions which solutions are still being put off by ignorance of the populous and adverse political agendas. Other treatment options not listed above include electroshock therapy and psychical exercises like cognitive behavioural therapy. These alternatives are used less most likely because pharmaceuticals are a huge part of controlling the populous and funding corporations and government. However, a regimented combination of any of these factors could be a breakthrough for some. Called “consumers” by people that work in the pharmaceutical industry, these human beings endowed with seemingly new chemicular behaviors have a heavy cross to bear. I believe that it is obviously possible that over half the population (just to be fair) are born chemically inclined, but forced under the heel of the majority of the others who are from my perspective, psychologically twisted by ignorance, power over the sick, and unjustified behaviour based (((most likely (just to be fair) for some, subconsciously))) on either inherent or just blatant jealousy. I say this because the majority of people in a position of dominance in our society, (security guards, nurses, the police, doctors what have you) are brutally unfair, unprofessional, and ignorant in most cases. This attitude fuels the biggest and oldest and crudest intolerance ever committed by one group against its own people. The mentally endowed verses the psychologically twisted and everyone in between or strung along is the latest and oldest injustice I can see other than the genocide of the shamanistic cultures of north and south America. The most obviously funded sick lack of justice and care for their own counterpart (ever challenged till present day) by a government is currently at hand. It’s a matter of time and interest among corporations. Their need for money will guarantee that the proper drugs will be the end of this problem. Their survival as a business is the only co-dependent factor for the cause. Once the sick become well, ((the inevitable outcome (already achieved)) the drugs will be reinvented a few times ultimately plateauing as a renewable idea by these scientific salesman and their evil subordinates running the place like some kind of sick joke to themselves. Those who wield tools and permission to inflict pain, bondage and any form of abuse they find delectable simply to put off paperwork (and sooth their own often nocturnal boredom) only assigned to be used in the inevitable malpractice suits soon to be ensued by the just with the just against the corrupt. With blunt force and jealousy against their only threat and reliable witness to the sick twisted 24 hour a day fetish of legally and illegally taking the rights and freedoms and everything that makes life desirable from the ill to make way for a prolonged treatment of abuse and betrayal from the psychologically bent nurses and security guards, doctors, police not to forget your everyday sociopath / psychopath walking the streets and perverting the direction and attention of the staff and patients of mental health wings across the country (Canada). Folks like these who lack the basic right and wrong skills, used obviously and openly by the sick and the meek to inevitably over throw the ranks of sociopaths and psychopaths governing, misusing and perverting the writing of history. All of their efforts put into this “note taking” endeavour to be rewarded with indulgence into the sick pleasures of a dysfunctional beauracracy and political disgrace to be. As for the sick, (and well) the neglect of one’s health and deterioration of relationships is often inevitable during episodes and when being forced against such characters mentioned above. These new victims often leaving the institution with their own newly afflicted psychological scars. This is understandable considering how different and under informed the external world and the unbalanced individual usually are. The unwell individual tends to get overwhelmed with heightened and distorted perception, and the outside worlds clashes with their reality. Inevitably against their will, (usually after lots of experience) and sadly, many forms of legalized abuse from the system that seems to be above all law, they become accustomed to the system and more knowledgeable about medication. This is the only way I’ve seen someone become well, for longer. It’s important to channel the knowledge from their experience into productive endeavours. This is the exceptional goal. Chemicals are a big part of the inclined individual’s life (Pharmaceutical, natural and usually recreational). Often enough a well-balanced person emerges but the fight against unwellness and addiction is ongoing for many. Even once well, the psychological challenges of adjusting to life can set in. Thankfully this is also treatable either with anxiety medicine or therapy (or in the case of the Canadian health system, prolonged and tormenting hospital stays crudely striped with prolonged bondage and isolation chambers. Psychology being the completely unfunded and rightful alternative. Wellness comes with time and knowledge as well as trial and error. The potential experience for these individuals is more than the average prescription. Logically and philosophically looking at these problems is key to understanding them. Stigma; it’s a thing like racism that is rampant in every culture today but especially in western culture apparently. A mild example of stigma is using a negative label or misconception such as “split personality” or “psycho”. These are words attached to now folklore, lies and misunderstanding so this ignorance is apparently the first thing to go. In the case of bipolars, it is often amplified social ability versus depression or other emotional states that is confused with complete loss of judgement. Schizophrenics seem to have an even keel in terms of personality in most cases. I know there is no mood disorder but full on hallucinations. This could be due to an unexplained increased constant source of dopamine in their system I suggest gets used to produce complex distractions that could be used to their own advantage, like poetry etc.. (Unproven connection) The biggest problem is the assumption our government and citizens have; that the mentally ill are violent. This ultimately subjects us to being treated like escaped zoo animals by every authority figure you can think of. This is how they legally get us into straps; the word violent. This word can be used in ways it shouldn’t which is often the case. Once declared violent and mentally ill you’re bound for a living hell most likely for quite some time. All the ugly side effects of the system itself leave you psychologically damaged. You get a fate worse than prison by far, especially if you’re rebellious. I have rarely if ever have seen an act of violence towards another from a person that lives in a society that has them already sedated, and threatened by fearful ignorant authority figures with shackles, tasers, injections and cruelty in general at the ready. I’ve mostly seen vigilance or peaceful protest in those in an unwell state, simply because they have the logic to see what they’re up against. We’ve seen this all our lives. Even those who fight back really never had a chance to show that they meant no harm. I say this because our common goal as this type of person is to be understood. While up against a mass of smug sociopath liars who are constantly projecting joyously in groups that we’re mentally incompetent and incapable. This whole thing makes me want to kick an isolation room wall in and pull out the insulation over and over again. That type of treatment on that scale and for that length of time inspires anger in the most emotionally controlled of individuals. This type of passive brutality cannot be easily understood by people who are on a regular level of unchanging dopamine and serotonin. Basically, it is those who are in control and uninformed that are inevitably inflicted with the stigma for mental illness otherwise these are used as tools by the PhDs that as of late have the audacity to wield side effects deceptively like better acting medication (as well as transference upon their staff). Mania is a powerful source of energy. Success of any kind is a possibility with people that have the genetic makeup of the bipolar individual and quite possibly the schizophrenic and schizoaffective system casualties. Most who blindly submit are in a sedated or in a financially constricted reality for most of their lives. However massive bodies of work that gain quality over time with practice are usually seen with all types of mentally ill individuals. Productivity is a given with excess energy and hopefully with excess dopamine. This is something the bipolar individual has at their disposal. (The excess dopamine, like I stated earlier, being the undiscovered advantage for schizophrenic and hybrid diagnosis individuals). If psychological ailment is part of ones developmental makeup, seek help through private practices in your nearest large city center, like psychologist offices, astrological predictions or the cheaper alternative; fortune cookies. ((all systems more trustable than the political money grab being masqueraded by the Canadian government and god knows where)). Hobbies will get lots of attention and skills like writing will be improved for most. Phenomenal ideas and activities must be given attention. It must come from a desire to be appreciated in a world that sees them as useless and treated as such as well as resentment for the genetic advantage and the mitochondrial patterns I will stipulate below. First off I am compelled to write; things like physical agility are improved as well when new energy comes along. Now, the organelle mitochondria in animal cells produces energy for the cell. Like the patterns of the near solar system and probably menstrual cycles and similar monthly patterns recorded to date, all of these cells (differing by their design) work as groups. Most likely shifting by the behavior and the pressures of the environment and or the environments one is involved with as well as (chiefly) the positive verses negative intentions or energy put forth. The positive being more strong and more apt to gaining velocity compared to negative endeavours while the ignorant become subjected to rapid, (fuelled by culture and social upheaval) evolutionary de-emphasis. Tradition will save many who are open minded. It has been theorized that a person who inherits the bipolar gene may have abnormal mitochondrial activity. I reiterate that this would cause fluctuating energy production for the whole body and possibly more so for the brain, ultimately spiking or dropping essential consciousness related chemicals like serotonin and dopamine. Mainly above the baseline of level as far as positive living goes indicating that it’s an innovative evolutionary trait. (These chemicals and the proper medicine are prime factors for the bipolars however independent) the natural chemicals)) These are known simply as chemicals that affect our mood. Or sometimes referred to as (and in everyone’s experience) reward chemicals (endorphins) and oxytocin (the love chemical). The mitochondrial theories as well as more psychological rather than biological theories (i.e. “mono-ideo dynamics”) are unproven. (most called into question more than 100 years ago left unelaborated but proposing a hypothesis unfinished on purpose, ie. Mono-ideo dynamics meaning that an idea can make the body do anything the body is capable of to the peripheries, any part of the body. The “any” part of course cautiously suggesting the brain) The future of mental health I would say is the extensive categorizing of the dosage and drug or treatment in relation to different types of people or circumstances. (i.e. more than 10 conditions, more like a dictionary of conditions to be) Also, once the medical scam plateaus (due to actual research and political attention) psychology as a treatment method will be implemented beyond nurses attempting some form of cognitive behavioral therapy. It is those employed to work with the mentally ill and the graduates of psychology or related studies who must insist on more data collection and way more research into the possibilities the mind itself can offer in medical treatment of all illness. It occurs to me now obviously that psych has been previously placed on the priority list as secondary to the drug trade and religion so to gain funding for an renewable priceless trade like deduction of illogical pursuits and outcomes. (A basic form of psychology that should aid dangerous things like delusion and the laws of attraction). Psychology research mut be put on the forefront so we can get meds chosen, dosages corrected and diagnoses discovered and made faster and more accurately. (And produce more jobs in all levels of the field of medicine) It’s a century old marriage and divorce between medicine, and free will. Psychology should be treated as equally as important as medicine as it is half the battle against corruption of our society, ecosystem and those who inhabit it. Back to the original induction and pragmatic endeavour of self controlling mental chemicals that have their own agenda, or the agenda of the moon and the weather; the social activities of a manic person can be difficult to put up with for others because it’s constant and overbearing at times. This factor most likely is being brought up because of my experience with passive aggressive tendencies. What is interesting is that it can stimulate chemicals in people around the source (more importantly I say between couples). Basic emotional chemicals like endorphins and oxytocin (excitement, survival and `love` related chemicals in any order) can be increased in other people at higher than normal rates and levels (not to mention the freed individual themselves). These chemicals can be a blissful and natural human experience when people are close to one another. This can be achieved through stylized communication between persons. In cases of manic people with other manic people; it’s a vibrant social atmosphere. It’s manifesting the inner emotion or thought into reality or more commonly manifesting it into iteration. In any case one can activate the other pretty easily without consumption of any substance. Any communication and body language is the stimulation factor here when differing types of people get together. This is what psychology is; ‘Behaviour changing chemicals, changing environment’. Boring and seemingly opposing efforts is also a common occurrence because it’s hard to stay positive for most and for those around them because, it’s been a long battle and opposites attract. Phrases like that as well as phrasing like “everybody’s different” is an indication that intellect and work ethic are also independent factors essential to the coexisting of partners in general. The state best to experiment in as far as is hypomania (medium mania) or even just wellness. Ways to activate a slow rise in your serotonin level if you’re not bipolar would be using a mild stimulant like amphetamine (Dexedrine). This is not something to try on your own. I’m suggesting this to be a carefully overseen test involving chemicals that are dangerous to be used in excess and for prolonged periods of time. If you become manic, know that once your manic states have passed and you’re well you still possess the ability to partake in and test different psychological and parapsychological activities (it does stay with you and up to date). One thing to discover while well is that a person can up their brain’s chemicals at will without the use of drugs, rather, behaviour or behavioural exercises. Once you’ve done that and or submitted to the opposing factors of the weaker you are both freed. This has been going on for billions of years in many forms. Dancing, sex, geometry, sensory deprivation (like vision quests or modern culture traditions) gaining knowledge about the earth from the stars, cultural and group oriented endeavours like art or chemical revolution (i.e. drugs rock and roll all stimulate the body chakras as well as the earth’s). Other theories basically thrown around by the wiser of the eastern west in the form of literature or poetry comes to mind, like; “electricity comes from other planets”, in relation to mono-ideo dynamics in relation to bipolars and nature; “The Gift” etc. (The Velvet Underground, 1969). All of these “foggy notions” are there for usually the reason they’re being inspired, meaning put art intentions and science together and you’ve got something good. Unless you succumb to the marketplace. Only drugs inspire chemicals on command without the need for circumstance (this is a modern cultural tradition). The nature of mania is that you become ‘antennae’ of sorts that more easily gathers information. It’s up to you what you do with your energy or your manic that turns the tides in your favour. Your perception may be higher in this state, but there (as always) is; a down side of it as there is duality in all things in nature. Psychosis depression and psychological problems plague the inexperienced young bipolar individual’s lives until an effective treatment plan is accepted or forced on them. Other ways to cushion this (and to avoid too many episodes) is complying with treatment plans to your liking and staying away from recreational drugs for the most part. Or rather, opposing and cheating the laws of the flawed marketplace. The process as a whole is always a learning experience for most. For sure, unbalanced brains are the next step in biological evolution. The union of the mind and body, the relationship between the physical and metaphysical, and how human culture is merged with the ethereal will occur along with the reopening of the practices originating from primitive psychology like the agenda of the heavenly bodies of fire above. Victim Psychology One thing I have realized over the past many years is that there are two kinds of people in the world; the aggressors and the passive. Like the chimps and the bonobos, the psychopaths and the victimized, the sociopath and the weary guardian, the farmer and the farm animal, the nurse and the sickly the dominant prey upon the weak. I have found the sociopath to be friendly and the psychopath to be gentlemanly and wise at times. This does not condone they’re compulsive destructive social and physical abuse that they inflict upon they’re victims. A psychopath is someone who enjoys committing violence upon another. A sociopath is one who has no care for the wellbeing of others. This is rampant in modern Canadian livelihood. One other thing I’ve noticed about aggressors is that they go in and out of remission. (Which is cooperative behavior) A volatile destruction of one’s trust of others and distorting of one’s actions that is prevalent in victims is sexual abuse of the young and old alike. Next to physical assault it’s the most reactive and high profile to this day of violations of another person therefore it falls in the category of psychopathy from what I can see because of its physical and emotional impact. Victims carry on in public, say profoundly erratic and shocking statements, take up malevolence for those who stand by them and seek a vengeance that has no sympathy in any circumstance against theirs and other persons abusers. Their paranoia fuelles the problem of wrongful accusation cases ongoingly across the board. Usually a current abuser is in the background with these cases fuelling the fire while the victim holds out for some kind of mercy or justice. Wife beating and general abuse of children and animals are the most haness and hated by the public and the spectrum of victims in this country. (Canada) Sexual abuse is the most widely discussed and concerning of abusive behaviors towards humanity, (to the point that it’s an ongoing obsession and topic in the daily conversation in a conflictive situation between persons and within groups of all sizes) breeds decay within the psychological health of the groups themselves(like paranoia to a schitsophrenic) and they revel in it, abusers and all. All the power to the victims for their enthusiasm, but to reiterate what I wrote above, these actions are somewhat on occasion either false puppetry put on by the victim’s close and currently occupied as; violator, or by bystanders who just want a show or to gossip. The falsity and sadly sociopathic act of ‘fish netting’ just about every oddball as a possible suspect of these lowly behaviors is very common in today’s society. However, I have realized that their paranoia is justified by the number of women beating and sexual abuse cases showing up as a reality today and that there is a correlation with the amount of homosexuals that are violently “in the closet” who turn up in our courts and also who don’t (mainly due to victims trying to hold their lives together). Can this be explained by ethnicity clashes? Gangs?Terrorism?Languages? Why this correlation? Is it obviously connected to what was formerly seen as perversion, homosexuality, as a factor in these broken homes. Just because by my census in northern Ontario found that heterosexuality was a minority here and that the abuse rate changed for the worse shows that it is possibly a correlation. How long has this been going on? I find that these men need to use women as a shield, a sexual punching bag that’s worth no more than a cheap roast beef. This is a new social disease. Not homosexuality, but the act of taking a mate of the sex you aren’t interested in for personal gain. The action of these men is typical abuse and the women go on destroying their psychological health through these empty relationships. This one (me) who is looking for a healthy relationship feels ripped off however the sociopathic women choose their life like dolls instead. While the jails hold the psychopaths. The police jail and court workers go on with their corrupt behavior in our region. It’s that that continues to choke our young women into a compromise. They are a social disease, we are under siege from sick nations and countries and our men are allowing our women and children to fall by the wayside to make room for more homosexual dominance. It’s time to liberate the inflicted to avoid more people crossing over to psychological toxicity. As these victims start to depreciate into self destructing and outwardly destructive tendencies. Psychologists must prescribe and teach like never before in this age of lies, abuse and corruption. LO-FI Music Explained JAMES MCFARLANE·SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 13, 2016 LO-FI MUSIC EXPLAINED The additional distorted data collected from the peripheries of our senses deliberately recreated and reproduced by means of adverse, outdated and unintentionally altered technology and style. Recorded or preformed ideally in the form of what we know as music and or film. broken record? More like audible snowflake. The geometry of nature get betrayed and expands when recording art under predetermined and active circumstances at the whim of the conditions of the environment and it’s setbacks. LO-FI Music/Media is the effect that the decay of our technology has on the pristine conditions in which we perform and record our visual and audible experience and the deliberate recreation and reproduction of these anomalies. Atonally thrusting forth with a foggy notion that these new audio and visual recordings of patterns that emerge from the more primitive forms of technology over time vaguely and remarkably respond to and compliment the setting of the reality intentionally being recorded on an almost conscious level. The question of how to activate them and where hey come from arises when artists of our own age with a knowledge of the recent technological and cultural past attempt the avantgard. Using predominantly analogue and traditional technology affected by time itself that we can alter ourselves in combined with natural (random) rate, voltage, velocity selection what have you to reproduce art AND what the ultimate effect of the recording process has on these works of avantgard art is the idea behind and the method LO-FI Music/Media. -James McFarlane (Seamus) I blew up Einsteins theory on insanity — James McFarlane (Seumas) JAMES MCFARLANE·SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 13, 2016 Einstein said that the definition of insanity was repeating ones actions over and over again, expecting different results. I say that this behavior is far from insane. It is the fundamental law of how our development, bodies, daily lives, cultural traditions, reproduction, evolution and solar systems function. When looked at closely we see that even the most repetitious behavior is constantly changing at various rates. This is a law in all things in our universe therefore nothing ever really repeats itself. Rotations beautifully exist in nature and follow an imperfect geometry that we mimic in our cultures according the the schedules of the massive bodies above. Rock and roll, like opium or the moon have differing effects on the geometric patterns of our lives and evolution. Some rock an roll music by use of musical instruments (science) has combined the harmony of natures repetitious behavior (the drone) with the ever changing distortion factors like; time, mass, pitch and amplitude that are essential and fundamental to the evolutionary principle of repetitious behavior. Its the repetition that is the foundation we stand on, as long as your standing on it, expect something new to come about. Simply our presence in a scenario changes the physical and metaphysical environment at some rate, its our behavior and descisions that change that rate what manifests as the artwork or reality. — James McFarlane (Seumas) lyrics — James McFarlane (Seamus(Substreet Drones)) JAMES MCFARLANE·SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 13, 2016 NEW — weird song (2016) the reaper, put the beat on hold, bones dug up just like the sunflowers in the snow, now deeper into the river of sight, if you go in that cave dont turn out the light, white light shines bright, no stars tonight, behind the vox stack, their singin heart is black, subwayswhislting over my head, thank god i climbed aboard instead, reap what you sew 4x (coda) Heart is black ive been had (ive been had) ive gone mad (ive gone mad) ths is war, (this is war) i told you all this before i beg you, i want you too, write me back heart is black face the facts, art is black, heart is black face the facts, art is black, oohicant stay, (ooh icant stay) cant go your way, (cant go your way) i felt you sweet smack, Your smoke is black (smoke is black) i beg you, i want you too, write me back heart is black face the facts, art is black, Beautiful face she thinks shes alright, butshes out of sight, swim in for a bite, underneath the white light, thining of fashons, and still looking smashing appealing to fools, out of all kinds of schools, lo frequency base, mixed with the acid taste, no it couldnt compare, to your beautiful face. you left a hole in my chest, a better shot than the rest, do you have five minutes, for a warhol screen test, at dawn i see a star burning not lie the rest, cant help but sit and wonder where its going next 4x cant help but sit and wonder where shes going next 4x Blue Haired BelleBlue Haired Belle, hangs around the gates of hellMorning stars get lost, in the flow of your blue sky locksDon’t despair, you’ve been on a track please take care, Come fly with me, its your blue sky that’s pure dont you see. Its alright You, me , everybody,we, see, only moonbeams,comets not so high,eathquakes in the sky,lalalight n short in hight and , nananight and it’s alright,lalalight n short in hight and , nananight and it’s alright, You light the way, through tunnels, try not the scrape, the gunnels,on the right a cave in sight, it’s alright not this timeon the right a cave in sight, it’s alright not this timelalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalala lalalalaooooaaaaooooaaaaaooooooooooaaaaooooaaaaaooooooooooaaaaooooaaaaaooooooooooaaaaooooaaaaaoooooo Main Street When you called me up hereIdidnt feel like walkin, Now your sayin to me,youdidnt feel like talkinwhy are we so clumsy,so clumsy with our breadnow you tell me honey, how you keep your stomach fed, always lending yourself out, to the freaks that dot our lives,honey when you gunna shout, at those drones in out beehive,take a walk uptown, to the bucket where they drown,gunna tell them when they get out,to get theiur handouts downtown MorningAt the dawn of a new age,Sun comes up, smell the burning sage,take a step foreward, turn the pagesay goodbye to all those dark dark days, MAking a brew I stare a the fire,stir the pot, and then connect the wires,turn on the amp, the music inspires,got to free my mind from all the cheats and all the liars. Morningdrone You, you know what I mean, when isay,that nothings gunna happen today,and you, you know what imean,wheni tell you it’s just not my scene, you, yeees you, what the hell are we gunnado?and you, the only one you listen to, is a man, by the name of, Lou. We, yeees us three, could make it at a defferentpace,I, know that, it’s a discrace, Lord, take us to another place, So grab your stuff, your record albums,you take the wine, and ill take the guns, and into the ocean, we will go, cause you know, were headed, for the coast,so raise up your glasses, for a toast,ha, which one of us can drink the most,the father, theson, or the holy ghost,and you say that this car can race,but can it take us to that other place, a different side of mother natures face. take me to another place. Nothing drones honey comes from lots of work, sticky feet moving berserkpatterns form in crude beauty, drones fulfill a pointless duty, honey drips, from the hive, golden jkelly feeds their wife, pretty flowers messy home, nothing drones on like the cone, back and forth, in and out, dancing like we use our mouths,the pay is small and so are you, results of that sweetens my tooth, the task is never ending, constantly descending, dripping in the mouths of those not worth defending. Oppenheimer park Rolling down the open road, to the end of the line,end of the world, end of the illusion of time,I go down to the water, and feel the cool surf,hear music in the air and take it for what it’s worth, cant understand why people, could live on so little,when so much goes through them, and through the needle, so hasty, with the selling of their saved souls,the western downtown is bright, blunt, and bold. Walk up and down throughout the day, out of your mind,think of your home nevermore, till the end of timethe loop drones on and on like a broken clock,don’t need to climb the montain, cause your at the top Hastngs is not coming for you, your coming for it,like hell it bewccons like the incline of a pit,the east side, sits a nd people come from near and far,to sit, and sink, into the grass, in oppenheimer park oracle so your torched,your hanging by a thread,don’t scorch, your pretty little head,wishing through your lips that it worntpass,feels like your turning from a liquid to a gas, take a trip right to the edge of your mind, consciousness poured out and left behind,take a break from all the flats and all the sharpd,ride a cloud of nothing, and numb your broken heart To thew edge of your mind, distortion blurrs the line bettweenwhats out there and whats inside, deep in the cave, breath in the cold air,see shadows on the wall,… stare bring news just like homing pigeon,come down, and start a new religion, leave now, and speak out, littereally or metephorical,the knowledge you posess will make you the oracle. Pipe Dream A science experiment gone totally wronga weather balloon with some kind of evil about it,all the kids at school could see it above the horizon,my friends and i knew we’d be better off without it, king kong, walked along high street, where the freaks and thugs call home,if he could reach this floating disaster on time,he knew he would never have to die alone,hethough about it and realised the people wouldntunderstandhe knew their alien nation would turn this ape into a man, darkened minds turn on a dime, revolve in time along thin white linesyin and yang drip from a wolfs fang, one pulls the trigger the other goes band why can we get to the meaningof this philosophy of feeling, how do we break the silence of the checkerboard of violence. Darkened fool has lots of toolsd, dead at the deep end of the pool, boring times and pouring rhyme, the question, is this really mine? why can we get to the meaningof this philosophy of feeling, how do we break the silence of the checkerboard of violence. Psych em out Psychem out like rabid vermin, make em shout a phony sermon,see right through their simple game,right to their core their thoughts of shame, watchem blow upon the fire, rocks explode right on the liar, social change brings end to war, housewife trembles on the floor,backwardsforewards, up and downvoisc encircle all aorund, observeprecieve hear see know learn mirror be, identify possible flaws, of the menace with no causethe time is now, so try to learn how to bend the rules they use to keep you down. Rabbit hole Salvage you mind while it is illuminated, a fire out of control,a cabbage in ttime, right now it is fumigated, wired and housing a soul,badhabbits in line, schedualed to be terminated, inspire you out of your hole, A rabbit , redefined and underrated but higher than ever before, drink up while the tea is hot and bright blue, the flesh of the gods makes it so,3 caps and some stems is all i can do, to see shooting stars upon the snow, think sweetly of me, with emotions so true as yu stand and look through the window,think of thinkgs to do when im gone for good now, waving at the bus watching it go, Im down in the southland, with deep curving valleys and bridges all rusty and crumbling, with grasses all dying and rivers of green and subways whistling under me. a spot on the corner , a 30 dollar gutar, a case and a cigarette too, is all that i need to get usedd to my home and bring my mind closer to you. The last of this song, is all out of place, but the pace rings true to the rule, of the verses before i shut tight the door on the patterns lost and misconstrewen,becauseits all backwards and forewards like this, its in shambles but its not a ruin,the end of this 4 verse song has arrived, to the point you might not clue in. Sea of lights Rockj and rave, through the night,on speed in a sea of lights,jump spin contort thrust,black white pain lust,spent a week there last might, maybe more,steal yourself a holy death crouching by the door cause we all live in sin but it makes music sound new, go out on a limb, and let the world surround you, we rave through the atonal thrusts and the booms,tonight the flowers of evil are in full bloom, Standing there all in white, she sings in the spotlight, in darkness and style, we strum all the whilestanding all in black behind the vox stack, from behind sunglasses, we inspire the masses, cause we all live in sin but it makes music sound new, go out on a limb, and let the world surround you, we rave through the atonal thrusts and the booms,tonight the flowers of evil are in full bloom, Walk and talk it through the park,whiplashgirlchild in the darkrun run run, take a drag shoot your speed while you brag i’ve been orchestrating behind sunglasses,immitatingprodogy, and writer, man, tomboy and a throusand fans zeppelin spotlights on my brain exploding plastic in my veinhypnotyic tones as the propellers drone,mind bending sounds, resonate undreground, dak circles never weed, new york 1963, Chcmysic, velvet freak desensitize alter tweak, no money car moon or sun, sell your blood for heroin,if she ever comes now now, moe beat on that drum now now,pink perfume, mantra neumes silk screen factory tunes superstar test only the best wine coffee speed heroin rest,darkcircl;es never weep, new yourk 1963,theyve been up for weeks, in the white light the tweak, in 63 Skeleton Here we are again, moneys all been spent, you don’t know where hesbeen,hes trying to fend off things that dwell within, hes a skeleton. at the end of days hes been here before he says, narrow in mannyways,hes a skeleton,andidont know where hesgoin, or why he thinks itssnowin, he can see the wind thatsblowin, hes a skeleton, Spotlight Reap what you sew,snakes and poppys in her hair,sun flowers in the snow,make you look like your not so old,it had been so long i could not recall her face,she came outside to meet me though iwas’t her case,nowi sit and wonder if I’m out of place,the memories i had of her, are in outer space Standing all in white, she sings in the spotlight, in darkness and style, we strum all the while,on the odd days I could talk to her,harmony and dissonence, a modern venus in furs,up and down that hallway, rotating the earth,waiting there for hours and hours, for her the quench my thirst. Sweet grass summertime,see the star shine, and i don’t mind revisiting those times,although my mind is blown, i play the drone,saying goodbye while you’re getting stoned. Vicious lips oooooo what to do,iwanna see you too,i think imgoin mad, ooooim not that sad noooi wonder sometimes where you are,what moon what planet under what star,id like to think your not that far, but we both know that trip was hard your vicious lips, eard on the airwaves, waking the dead, from their graves,your sweet, but your toxic, been three weeks since you dropped itI found it in my pocket, your trains comin I cant stop it You Made Me the reaper, put the beat on hold, turns to dust when they turn to dope,promises, he couldntkeep,to save a life, only three feet deep,you’re my catalyst, myonliness, decemberbaby,im the creep you made me,you’re my catalyst, myonliness, decemberbaby,im the creep you made me,the reaper, put the beat on hold, turns to dust when they turn to dope,promises, he couldntkeep,to save a life, only three feet deep,you’re my catalyst, myonliness, decemberbaby,im the creep you made me, Come Back Around JAMES MCFARLANE·FRIDAY, MAY 13, 201610 Reads The process as a whole is always a learning experience like no other. Ultimately, like the brain has a recognition and physical atribute that corresponds with most chemicals in nature (possibly even synthetic chemicals) the psychological functions that a person can aquire are almostordaned and recieved in a timely fashion by the organ and im assuming the subconscious effortlessly and for evolutionary purpose. So I will assume everyones own, (however existential), growth experience is interesting. Having the atribute of spiking and deminishing of at least two of the brains most important chemicals related to experience, and behavior… and the awareness of the (most obvious to you) potential for not only chemical related occurances and their ripple effect, but the behavioral methods that the acute brain, manic brain, almost has a natural function to excercise and use usually either for a better survival or further expansion into astonishing existential and soon to be investigated parapsychological, social behaviors that tend to stick as long as they serve in a new type evolutionary (ie “Counter intuative”, productive and humanistic beavior that the mind eagerly draws in like an antennae recieving and storing up valueable energy. Setting this agenda and also surviving the early episodes, of bipolar, (which are usually the most drastic) are two hurdles to get over, let alone the crude, almost sickening archetectural features in our community hospitals, thats purpose cannot be desguised as heathcare to the human eye. A grossly overused assortment of bondage equipment and isolation chambers (not to mention your absence of any dignifying articles of clothing( also to be moved and set in place on occasion) nowadays plate glass walls, a whole dungeon setup designed by those people involved no less, who really probably care wheather the colour they chose or how their design would function better than the decaying sweat soaked ultimately in our home towns case, my favorite case, dried blood stained, apparenty approved for use by some dr, a single hallway, to alk up and down seemingly endlessly, untill not suprisedby the inevitable dread code white, that is the delight for the predominantly, …listen t me… dominated, by your average practicing as ferociously as they can with as little effort as possible, sociopath and more importantly to re ognise, violent violators psychopaths, who pretymch have the real pl working there stressin over what could possibly be these ppls capabilities, and are alienated inside by this evil thay cannot risk their ,,, virtully anything valuable, like a job or who knows, omg… thats why she left,,,,, so, yaa, these ppl rise like cream, annnnnd they have a really good time eeeehm, .. now nurse practitioners or legends, thir former dominator look like theyve aged, well lets say i was convinced they had beeen using prolongued use on heavy stimulents, like crack. iloldrewaout a blueprint with symboldsfr the patient advocate, neaysi mostly wantd to write and its alot of shit thats gone no doubt as home with ,,,lets say u know like fat cat. what, i was 15, and he was fat then, now hes the last one standing up there that i know of. oh yea… so i would say if u want out, and as of late i thing the design is perfect for the right ppl, socios included, fuckers, but, the dr, they are jst as careless as the security guards who cant hide haw stupid the really are and the odd couple who are revealing that their ok, still, idicovered, ,, maybe not in north bay, but in a proper community, like the city, ………..lost my train,,,, i think that i was getting at how just to be fair and …eyea 50 percent of the staff endowd with the ability to weildstrapps, and are encouraged by their no doubt under educated superiors, to always have the wrist ready to be broken if, now this brings me back,,,, they chokeyou, than comes the bondage that betty page would think is very unatractive, idk,,, the thing is,,, ya the drs, oh waut,, ok…. 1/3 of all of them are,,,, exculding the drs, and the janitors, who if ihaventdiscosedya are always there to pile up on a code white, and i know,, listen to me, no janitor ive met would grab my ass so hard on such a numerous a pile up, i have eyes in theback f my head,,,,,,, italalot,,,,,,, ppl that work so hard tp climb so not that far up the ladder in society, yes, sum of them are costume rocking witchcrftprodiges, who, will, 1 take the whole bunch of guys .. it may have been the forensic unit,,, this little thing is known by ,ppl, ive talked to about the psych who are inderectyl told by their others who work it, and ave stories about the oddity of us. iduno,, alot went down, but,, boring s yea she walks me throught e bysantine conduit iup to the floor, and the police have to walk somewhere behind to uncuff me and ta da, , y o iwanna bring up corporeal action when the best times,,, due to the conditios of bondage uuuuuuuuuuh were strictly through plate glass,,,,, ie. rare appearenced that are pretty much the only way. i really was bloody fucking thirsty 8percent and i mea ya,, when i was younngti chewed up braaaaan and drank my watttaaeer, and drew peace sighnsandd 7 days laterrrrr, after she sumhow managed to get an earbud into my head screaming for any colour you like by pink floyd, and playd the fungsonhggg, badassss. straight jacket. prolly day 4,,,,, i still think cough syrop is good for teenagerswhatver,,m took me to the top. ok… to get offf, the ward do as such; by Ultimately drawin on to no apparent end in crayons complete with nicotine gum (smokes,, the only freedom, not yet a right, that is so hard to get,,,,, and i learned to smoke in side the scarborough general hospitol,,, that room soon became the chamber, i would be locked in, for manny weeks, at different times,, thats where alot also hapened, is where the nude bondage asianfemaldr, ..whati mean i s theatwwhatwuldlou reed say… they never forgave us for nagasaki.,,, newaysive never spent more time in a i also a what appears to be and have bben told by assdocter of the north bay pstychwhi took to court at the hospitol and he got yelled at by a panel while my dad defended him and i ate cookies cus ii was really manic,,,, i also was 15 1/2… he later let me try and commit suicide,, thats a story of a different colour,, sounds like sprockets, idk,, idontwafe war with very real religiossympomatic shat, iuuuuuhm , so,,,, hereswahat krb8tujvcklwelbutrin.,,, ya, it istaken orally it shoul get right to work in three ad a half weeks, if suicidal,,,,, pray, oooir if u cant get dxedrine,, or sum speed beane drink a bottle of childrensgeapecoughsyrup once a day,,,, this acts as a seritonin reuptake inhibitor of a differrentcolour. 2 to 4 hours,,,iu get the mental stimulation,, it reall is a mellow buzz butttttyupppidecare fuck cough syrop…… dexedrineisnt out there and i know it couould really bbe used and they aslso do,, ie. jfk, addisons disease, dexedrine/anphetamine. so,, it will make y0ur 90 year old great aunt we all frogot about over in blind river get up from the abyss of alzheimers and dementia and sing thins is the day that the lord hath made,, ,but with real and concious interaction,,, without memory of course. however,,, she does that,,, did that anyway , but,,, im sure every month not every day,, at least one trial of … iuffingadhd adults can take it,,, why cant she. smeared into the grate of every window and the classy bubble rooom which actually was made with enough pride according to the regionnsid say, to have an even more, almost funny, and certainly battered scratched and spat on bubble for the head psychiatrist t poke his head into every few days. Lets not froget how that scene ended. like my father and grandfather before me who conditioned and alterred the correctiona institutions for fifty fife years now a conmfortablevacatin for psychopaths and whoever, not even the hole could stand up to point blank restraints naked, with your flimsy gown around your chest. at least in the bubble room there was lots of privacy, u know, to each institution their own, glass , bubble blood stained, probably 60 years of ppl that somehow said something that attracted the attention of their nurse, who no doubt vollynteered after printing your file which is most likely epic thick, there is no room for any of their creative stylings in that no, i did just smash the wall into pieces and ya all the insulatin is everywhere, high five and respect from my cute transference mistress, (and a couple others.) Perverts Dictionary (O_o))))))))))))) Trilateral — jinx No doubt — yes, super Doble- adorable, dobles, adobles Straight up — forthrightly, correct, right, or goof Throwing babies makes them gay Avant garde — protect the old (art) stay the same Downtown, — quiet not ratting Technology — rewind/splice mp3 interchangable Right up — shooting up Not up — free (not in trouble) Word — “my promise” new word, yes Naw — ya goof / no Buzz out — use vibrator / get high Drone- parapsychological anomalie Phe — speed (methanphetamenes) Stellar — awsum / the sun / single thing Figure — shape (claivoiance) One — god / goof Out-gay or leaving No doubt — ur gay / im gay. (For sure (im a whore)) straight up In — a goof out “my thing ‘ — claivoiant animation (repeated) Pentagon/circuit — terrific Duality — love or contrast in nature Straight — not gay or no drugs Up-in torouble/retarded/fucked Goof — crazy p/pedophile / molester/rapist/asshole Pervert-whore/hooker Asshole-incessant talker(mean) Solid-honest reliable Ethereal — heavely, sticky, Bird- girl pervert , moron Badass-pervert/violent, missile Idiot –saying nething Toad- smaker (heavy) old vagina A hard — a stiffy Eh eh- turning vol down and then up to trick parents in the 70s in quebec Bonhome — dildo, goof, good man Ein — get in /out (here) goof (French) ass hole/vagina Institution/church shouting= good Tabernacle-chest Coalis-chalise Zeut-fuck Fuck- rape/damnet or sex Stomping — raping Bang out- beat on Beat up — gay kids trying to get their frieing off violently Rank out — make someone stink by working them or hurting them / cast someone out canadian military style (gay) , gang up on someone till they freak out (psychopaths do it all over Canada)’ Trast- drunk /party/water Dai-morning, cool, fun, ausum, hello! Good-goof Story along-paranormal happening involving ancestral memory Psychic-all in one, prophet telepath Telepathic — mind to mind talker, thinker Telekinetic- moving things/ ppl Claivoiance- seeing colour from other ppls minds Rod-skyfish/fast moving anomaly animal Vaj-old or young vagina Oss — dog or baby vagina Grandma- bag in tree Candy — transsexual My honey — sexy (on the wind(throwing laughter(female))) Beating off — complex Wacking off-pervert Jerking off — solid (female) Move-walk / go Mullet-militia Freak –goof (black word) Ca — crap — crow call Germ freak-someone who forces germs on ppl Quay-(beautiful woman (cunt) — woman) latin Mead-morphene Rin — heroin (dust / cookie crumble) Beans — speed pills Rids — Ritalin No shit- of course Jib-meth Hellfire — run off meth (bad) Food — crack Molly-mdma /e Bombs — ecstacy cid — Acid (lsd) shrooms-magic mushrooms sterl — brother (little) afgan weed — brown pot kife — bad weed (shake) leaves) shibby — cool/goof cool-gay/awsum fade white — see white on od (heroin/mescelin(go to heaven/hell)) road — freedom — out of institution the suck — mescalin myth ast — perversion telekinetic- asty sortof meta/physical movement from the brain outwardly god — goof — one or christ lady stink — female deodorant leave it — shirt on chest (gay /bi) stop it hiboit gland — make you fat cured with amricain medicine merican — goof citizen of America Canadian- a sovereign citizen of Canada (incestewous clown) Were done — end releationship British — gay mongerers Nono –nig mistake Famished — thirsty / starved Sent — innocent Pervert — to change something and make it last nothing — absence, bipolar universai — multiple universes psykinetics — telepathy / telekinetics/claivoiance geniupsy — psykinetic offspring genius — generating new thought (brilliant) bipolar- up and down serotonin and dopamine, psychopath — violent person sociopath — not caring about neone oppositional defiant — opposing help borderline personality — victim misbehaving schitzophrenic — high fixed dopamine, fixed seretonin (normal)\ drone — unpiloted airplane, good worker, artist , schitzophrenic dick — enlarged clitoris get out of here — come here little child aced — gay men trying to get pregnant, daughter , sqaired away k — ketamine ass — dad/grandfather hun — little stut( skank) brecky — greek (breakfast) supper — jewish (Dinner) brecko — Italian (breakfast) avatar — ethereal image of oneself asshole — girl or boy or rapist (north bay / Chicago)\ goof — sad or sexy ethereal image from shame can be cured with desensitization (knumbaning) (telepathic) ya — pedophile dude — black pedophile Italian cowboy, fake doctor (candadian) huffin — pretending to be someone else while using telekinteicks in a sexual fashion. sadomasochist — paingiver/enjoyer earphoning — hearing ppl in ypur speaker — hold speaker up to ear and hand over other ear, psychopaths recommendation pur — rapist/pervert uggz — ug;y phile — pedophile ace — gays — rape — sister — grandma-brother path — telepath or a psychopath/sociopath, can — male whore cop- fake police (pedophile) musac — music laid — losing virginity glowie — acid victims (creep) ente old stupid goof dex — cough syrup bed down — tie to bed (north bay) fuck right off — screw my girlfriend\ fuck off — go cop the u- universe no shit — definitely mangina — friend spect-respect right up — repect straight up — disguise Italian — scot Adisguzi — disgusting excuse me No shit- really? Love — goodbyek“love”  and the knowledge that one can be loved and in my case always, I only philosophise with the partial use of solid evidence that I have been loved by the one I love therefore at and for that moment(pretty much after the moment my phone died, after 30 seconds of reading trainpotting aloud, there was a subconscious subjective foggy notion that was there to be discovered by the psyche,  at this moment I can prove using circumstancial evidence and truth know by both partied involved, the dependant factor being me loving her forever, and the independent factor her being a single indesisive woman looking for a man who will love her forever combining to make a positive chemical and psysical reaction, that is the fundamental tradition that is the goal of all living thngs on this plant and its most evolutionary form of it is when it’s “Love based” one giving the other what its most in need of and deprived of, the others love, not the love of a friend, but physical experiments that are love based, expressing love on not neccesarily a physical level (like if ur on the phone or sumthing)but specifically a sexual level. The compounding factors that result in reactions happenings cresendoes babies,, are when the energy isnt circular but moves in one direction, when the one party is starved, an the other has a wealth, and the act of giving not just what the yearning needs, but what  he wants, when the desired with all her wealth, emparts her secret harboured denied expression love though tradional reproduction based activities, that friendship goes from “limbo” into action, even for a moment, through technology that alerts the senses, in this case hearing, wheather the deprived is even present or physically participating, isn’t the point the point is that the foggy notion of true love was expressed transmitted in a traditional and pivitol form, even though I picked up the transmission through one sense,  my ability to hear, the value of those vibrations, though lo-fi and misenterperted until the last few seconds before the line went dead (FUCK), were interperated and acknowledged and the whole venus in furs philosophy of the one party giving the other what it wants so bad, but has been denied, and doing it with love, or what they BOTH KNOW is the kind of love that’s needed and given over finally with effortless,  voluntary participation from the dominant, resuling in satisfaction in bohe parties (in my case the girl and I were more harmonized cause it was love based. Sex based, and send in the sacred medium of sound, and the talisman, the artifact, the memory the high velocity evidence that the message was of high fidelity, was that she didn’t use descriptive words (language) I was unfortunately (my medium at the time) it was her specific instrumental natural sirens alerting me to the intentions that truly lied behind her actions towards me  even if it was for that day only, this medium I collected from the field is highly obvious and irreplaceable piece of art that is regarded by the mind of the homosapien on a natural level as evidence that it not just social interacton, its a higher form of interaction, sexual yes, the highest form, occurs only when the truly loving is truly loved, on a sexual level, which indicates physical involvement,  and it did, only on one side, the side of the desired, the starvd had revieved the intention, and it was love, something metaphysical that can only be cofimed as occurring for ne length of time is undeniable corporeal action, even if its just her, givin er to you reading literature over the phone, the gift of reassurance that you are loved in this memorable case was not through words, but audible expressions from the depths of physical and mental activity from her diaphragm through her vocal chords and into my eardrum, was evidence enough that our seemingly healthy and thriving friendship was being held in limbo while I struggled with life and suffered over the denial of the true real deal love you were harbouring and saving in yourself for the future, didn’t dim and go out like a candle that burned up all the wax. Without official acknowledgement celebration and because I was still fucked up, without the long lasting  relationship that we wished wold follow and planned for, the sound of her primal sirens, sent mono ideo-dnamically from her entire physical being emitting frequencies that resonate with the earth around her and correspond with the stimuli, me, the correspondence being the brief experience of hearing the broadcast of it, acknowledging the fact that no matter how flawed or un aware I was prior to precieving what was transpiring an how classicly themed to fit my experience it was, that the fucking phone died before I heard the end of it, I clued in to what was going on, (id been informed of this “drone”she makes by her ex boyfriend (the other guy) right before he drove his helpful and convenient car out of her life)  Even if it was “her being noisy” it was fundamental sensual body chemistry, stimulated physically by the best means she knew how mentally by the imperative consciousness of the presence of the instinctualy, reproductivly essential of (in her case) a genuine male emitting stimuli, in both of our cases the stimuli was audio. The rare and most modern evolutionary trait is the simultaneous(I say this empathetically because were using language the figure this out not a live experiment going on right now or some shit) Emotional involvemint by both parties “while during coitus” bein, to into words, (I know that you’ve been loveing me so im gunna love you back) tho words are sweet but it doesn’t compare to the same message sent in the biologically, exceptional quality thats essential to the balance of the bodies involved and there connection to one another, the planet and the unverse, sound and where it comes from and the intention or involuntary reason for its presence and amplitude, dissonant or harmonious, perhaps my reading, my being on the line was the drone, and the harmony was her dissonant siren song. Its our new found puprose as humans to when ready reproduce.  Love is highly evolved, and requires corporeal and linguistic and energetic action on both parties to be confirmed as true love. It works like a battery(the casing of the battery is the relationship here), one end needs what the other end has access to; the positive end has its own energy attached to it(the juice in the battery, posetve energy),(in this case this is our one, the girl)attractive body(+end)and a mind (the positive ends underside that’s harboring all the energy in the friendship/relationship (battery casing)the negative port on the other end of the battery on its outside (my mind in this case)is permanently attached through the casing of the battery to the mind of the desired, this girls memories thoughts etc. (the underside of the positive end) and not her body. Why because the casing is plastic,( the friendship) isnt enough to join the two to create a circuit, but the love(the battery juice made up of strange elemets) attracted by her negative mind(the underside of the positive end) and makes her body(the tip) fertile and ready to create electricity(communication) only the casing of battery acid(loving friendship)charged by my positive actions(the acid is positively charged by the underside of my mind(the negative ends underside) which represents my body, which behaves like the warm intentions of my actions, which positively go nowhere unless her mind (negative underside of the top of the battery)gets inspired by the love in the friendship (which is positively charged yearning, my positive actions played lovingly into her open mind(negative underside of the top) inspiring her to do something with her body(top of the battery positive) in response to my positive charge on her mind and all the love it can unleash,  for the sake of warm intentions she turns on a cell phone,, her phone(or wire casing) the copper thread in the wire(the signal) the positive charge in the wire, (her calling me) and her hooking up the wire touching it to the negative end of the battery(her bodies actions and warm intentions inspired by a recognisable charge I embody that she identifies with(my body and life being negatively charged with aa positive mind and her beautiful face and attractive personality.)  my phone rings and I see its her, the one, I immediately am inspired that its her charge the one im missing positively lovely, what is she up to? and i pick it up, A simple circuit at this point, is her using a tool or wire to send all her positive energy through to her body by using her minds attraction to positive energy, by simply attaching the wire it sends the positive energy not just through her mind and body but back down on her body, when the extension (the wire) is put on my mind(the negative end of the battery in this case, my mind),deliberately by her, sending the energized current of the love in our friendship (juice in the battery) into my mind(the end of the battery with a bump) by way of the wire (cell phone signals connecting our phones and her voice and energy being the current) all the positive energy meets the negative charge of my mind and then that foreign female tone (positive electrical current) the positive energy stemming from the juice, the love, that’s made up of elements like lithium(in the case of the battery and in my case as well) this element and other alloys, the whole chemistry of the battery acid, holds the charge positive because energy flows, and love or acid can be charged by the bi polarity of conducters meaning they are opposing one anothers charge on the outside leaving potential for power over nature,  while on the inside, inside the battery the compounding nature of the universe is seen between you and me, me and the chemicals and elements the acid the love that is positively charged by me and only me, in this battery regardless of proximity my charge is still the key, litteraly loving you moved energy directly making me alternately free but obviously reflects its imperfections symetricaly and quite similarly to your perfect face and body  only introspectively and this thing I call negativity you existentially use to control and manipulate me by means of electrical currents like a shark in the sea, but the ocean currents in our world somehow moved me so far we couldn’t be but as the drone turns up the heat as chemists cure insanity, inevitably the duality of the friendship followed the trail right back to me,  from the beach into the city,  while metaphysical acid rain fell on her black umbrella,  drops of synthetic nightshade provided a ground and a side effect equaled a perfectly balanced sound resembling a circuit around my neck and down to the nervous wreck, I stand and smoke out on the deck, and remember that was how we met I  stop, wait my energys charge self provides, enough energy to survive, with my new social activity the acid, charge, size, speed and proximity and  the voltage of the current and relativity. My positively charged ablilitys that betray the moon like your fertility, a simple circuit cant explain the lovesick emotional pain still forming drops of acid rain only strengthening my brain, its time I have to get reactive, send this to her radically brilliant highly attractive yet negatively charged mind where chemicals of another kind will get inspired as she reads about batteries and his energy (that she secretly lovingly keeps rightfully under her locks and key with her sharp mind and memory should recall the flattery,  the almost dead battery, poetic licence and mad hattery finally gets me through the matter we, lost all sense of pattern, see, the point was electricity, and keyboards I would never see, played like a former prodigy, with drones that resonate with me just barely metaphysically, through my sleep deprived behavior induced heightened state, Ive always been able to wait, epiphanies sometimes come too late, but revelations give me faith that your negative mind and my positive state, memories of how u altered fate, I know theres more to come but wait, don’t get offended by my state , my batteries dead so save the date, remember wiser things I’ve depictions finished in your head, an electrician would have briefly said, what took me hours,  in ten minutes u will have read, I must finish without my meds, theyd knock me out, blow to the head, ill miss away you time instead,  that lilliad inside your mind

[internaljiujitsu]

F*%! FEAR: 6 Steps To Becoming Fearless

I lived in fear for forty years. It felt like weakness — as if there was something wrong with me that made me more scared than everyone else. My mother would always tell me about how sickly I was when I was born. How I stayed at the hospital for a month afterwards and how my aunt just barely saved me from dying once (so I guess I was kind of on borrowed time). I hated eating as a kid and was really skinny, adding to my weak mystique. In school, what I now know was anxiety would create psychosomatic illnesses. I’d feel sick, but it was all in my head. Stomach aches, dizziness, shortness of breath  —  It frustrated my dad — especially when he’d have to come pick me up from school again because I was freaking out on the inside.

We grew up watching the crack epidemic take over our neighborhood. The drug dealers did their business out of the fourth floor of our building. My brother and I would sweep up crack vials on the weekends to get our allowance from the superintendent — our dad. The tiny plastic cylinders with colorful caps filled the dustpan as we swept the roach infested vestibule leading down to the spooky, filthy basement.

Several young immigrants that had just arrived from Mexico were found dead over the years in the building next door, where Dad was also the super. Death from unnatural causes was a very real thing where we lived. Around age eight or nine, my alcoholic uncle, who lived in a storage room in the aforementioned basement (and would sometimes walk me to school), was killed when he fell while trying to climb a building to get to his ex girlfriend. I was about ten when our close family friend’s son, a squeaky clean kid visiting from the marine corp, was murdered defending a girl in the playground. At eleven or twelve, I watched my best friend’s dad kill a guy in an argument over a prostitute.

When I was fourteen, I was mugged at gunpoint around the corner from my family’s apartment. My big brother, wielding a large, rusty machete, took me around the entire neighborhood that night looking for the robber. The dude had worn a mask, so my brother put the blade to every thug’s neck that we passed on the street and asked me to look him deep in the eyes. They all knew my brother and respected him. They pleaded for mercy. Thankfully, we never found the guy.

That kind of shit was common in my old neighborhood. Baseball bats were swung in search of skulls and group rumbles were still a thing. I had family members snorting coke in front of me by the time I was in the fourth grade (and immediately making me promise I’d never do the same). Forty ounce bottles of beer were smashed over people’s heads in street fights. My crackhead cousin once robbed a dude using my favorite toy gun. He confessed to me when I found the gun broken and complained to him about it. Bullets fired from roof tops for fun whizzed through the ganja heavy air. It feels like we fought every day at school. That big yellow bus was like the fucking octogan.

We finally moved out of that neighborhood when I was sixteen after a gunfight forced our entire family to jump behind a parked car for cover. That shit was stressful. I was jumpy as hell. It didn’t help that Mom and Dad were very old school disciplinarians, if you know what I mean. There were fights outside and fights inside — all the time. I was always scared.

And that’s how I continued to grow up — I just didn’t show it, or let it stop me from fighting. When it was time to throw down in the street or at school, I always did. Partially because I knew my badass big brother would disown me if he heard I punked out. Backing down meant you were a victim. I once accidentally stepped on his buddy’s shoe and apologized. I’ll never forget what the guy said, “You never say sorry. It makes you look weak.” But a man’s sneakers were sacred in the hood, and I sure as hell never looked for a fight — unless I was channeling big brother.

He loved throwing the first punch and bragged about knocking guys out cold at night clubs — until a near death experience and one hundred and fifty stitches thanks to razor blade slashes made him reconsider his life choices. I’ll never forget when the call came in the middle of the night. I don’t remember why I answered the phone instead of my parents, but the voice on the other end is clear as day, “Your brother has been stabbed.” At that moment I thought the worst, and was relieved to see him gingerly walking through the door later that morning, battered, bruised and slashed to bits — but alive.

When I pretended to be my brother, I wasn’t above throwing a preemptive strike. We all had it in us. Hell, my dad was known to go into some destructive ass kicking rages when people pissed him off. I certainly tried my best not to get on his sizable bad side. Mom and sis aren’t exactly shrinking violets either.

My recurring nightmare as a child was of me walking down a beautiful tree lined street, the very one I always wanted to live on. It was only a few blocks from our shithole, but felt like a world away. In the dream, as I reluctantly step, there is the overwhelming feeling that someone is hiding in the shadows, waiting to attack. I’m petrified to move forward, but I keep going — slowly heading toward the inevitable. It was terrifying torture.

I don’t remember ever actually seeing the attacker. I’ve attached a bunch of meaning to that dream ever since, but at the root was my fear. For most of my life I moved forward, steadily but fearfully. I did things that made me want to shit my pants and forced my way through, hating every minute. In retrospect, these all helped build toughness and character, as did my old neighborhood, but the fear persisted. I became a bouncer, champion bodybuilder and an expert martial artist, but felt like a fraud for the unease that was my base level.

It wasn’t until I took these seven steps that terror’s grip on me loosened. Fear doesn’t have to be your enemy. If you learn how to use it, it will energize your actions and help you break past limitations. But first, you have to acknowledge that it’s there.

Accept that you and everyone you know will die. There’s no way around it. Yeah, it’s bleak, but if you wanna live in denial of death, you’re liable to swallow a bunch of bullshit to ease your mind. At its core, all fear is fear of death. When I was a kid, I hated when anyone brought up dying, especially my parents. The uncertainty was too overwhelming. There’s nothing more worthless than fear of the inevitable. It took me a couple of years of suicidal depression, meditation and time in sensory deprivation tanks to get comfortable with the idea of not existing. The tank feels like you’re floating in the womb. It’s pitch black, soundproof and the water is the same temperature as your body, so it feels lke there’s no separation. You and the enviornment become one. It’s blissfully peacful. Sure, I don’t want to die right now because I’m loving life, but I know it will happen one day — and I hope to enjoy that ride as much as I’m enjoying this one.

You’re not your personality. It’s easy to feel like a single, solitary soul drifting in a vast sea of faces. Valuing our individuality as we do, many of us strive to be unique while others do their best to blend into the collective. The way I see it, we’re all the current that powers these appliances we call our bodies. I feel like I’ve lived several separate lives filled with rich, distinct experiences and at the end of each, I mourned the death of an identity. While it feels like I was different people, the throughline was the same. The real me didn’t change. Our personalities are just things made up by our circumstances. They’re the features of the toaster. We’re the electricity that makes it work. I had to lose everything I had built to figure that one out. Once my marriage, home, business, students, money and identity were gone, it was just me — I had to be OK with that.

Your ego is not your life. Learning how to lose isn’t about being resound to failure. Losing is vital because it’s the only way to discover that life will go on when you do. The first time I lost something when I was sure I’d win was devastating. Everything I believed about myself was shattered. My invincibility was gone. Once I realized that defeat wasn’t death and the people that mattered would love me either way, I began to enjoy every aspect of competition instead of only focusing on the result. It wasn’t until I stopped giving a shit that things clicked. Being afraid of the embarrassment of failure is guaranteed to keep you from enjoying success.

Forgive your fear. Far worse than being afraid was my sense of shame. I hated that I wasn’t brave, like the thugs in my neighborhood. To me, being tough meant never being scared. As I became dedicated to martial arts and more interested in understanding fear, I realized that all those guys were probably just as scared as me. It would have been abnormal for me not to be afraid. The environment was so consistently charged with the potential for violence that I frequently lived in a survival state. Getting out unscaved would have taken a level of psychopathy I didn’t possess. When I forgave the little kid I was for being afraid, the shame melted away and the residual fear soon followed.

Whatever happens, everything always works out. You always know you’re in the right place because that’s where you are. No matter what, the world will keep moving on. It will do the same thing it’s doing now when you’re gone. You don’t need to worry quite so much about making the wrong choice when you accept that it doesn’t really matter what choice you make. Yes, of course you matter, your family will miss you and you’re a beautiful soul — all that jazz. But in the end, the world will continue to unfold, and the Earth will be incinirated by the sun — so fuck it. Embrace the experience but don’t cling to any result.

Step up. A sure fire way to kick fear’s ass is to look it in the eye and blow it a kiss. Fear is a bully. It’s all talk. It will try to shout you down until you grovel your way back to mediocrity. Pick something you’re afraid of and do it! Don’t try to not be afraid. Be afraid and do it anyway. But here’s the important part: Smile while you’re doing it. For me, it was roller coasters. I hated them as a kid. They terrified me, and each time I got on one, I regretted every click up to the top. The thought was always the same, “Why did I get talked into this? Let me off!” I never enjoyed the ride, closing my eyes tight and clenching my body until the hellish few seconds was over. One day, I decided that roller coasters represented the fear I wanted to conquer, so I got on the legendary Cyclone. It’s the old, rickety wooden monster at Coney Island in Brooklyn. The thing screeched a death knell and I loved it! I forced myself to smile from the moment I sat in the seat. I told myself that if that car came off the track, I was gonna soak in my final moments. I was sick and tired of being afraid of fear. My mindset shifted, and the click clack became excitement and anticipation instead of anxiety and fear. Funny how those can feel the same.

If you wanna take it a step further, start embracing pain. It may sound a little masochistic, but I like to stare at the needle when it goes in at the doctor. I like going to the dentist. They both used to scare the shit out of me. Even though I had always sought out the painful burn of a brutal workout, it was the pain I deemed unwanted that I sought to relabel. Smiling at the dentist or laughing after my knee was popped back into place in training were not ways to prove to myself that my body was tough, but that my mind was strong. The anticipation of pain is normally much worse than the physical sensation. Change the way you see pain and the way you interpret the sensation will transform

Of course, no one is fearless — unless they’re a psychopath. Fear will always be with you. It’s what you do with it that determines how far you go. The fluttering in your belly is a sign to take action that scares you because it will force you to grow. The quicker your pulse, the bigger the potential change. Don’t deny your fear. Jump on, throw your hands up and enjoy the beautifully terrifying thrill ride.

[thecardssayfuckoff]

Meet My Apprentices.

It’s the time, finally, and theirs. Let me just say to things, quickly:

First one, these aren’t finished, but I know that I won’t end them in the near future for school and so, and I’m impatient and want to talk about them already, so I’m throwing them here. They look… decent. Not good, just, decent. (Side note: If some colours look a bit weird, like their eyes, it’s because my pc got kind of fucked up so it doesn’t show the colours exactly as they should look).

Second, this is going to be lengthy. I’m gonna talk about them in their lore (?), and then about them individually. I also don’t know if there’s like, a format for when you publish your apprentices, so I’m going by heart. Fight me or teach me.

I really hope the damn “read more” works. Gonna post the drawing here to get some attention, and then the read more. Please work.

Now, the girl to the left is Crystel, and the girl to the right is Vitali. Let me give you some context: My best friend and I can’t work separated apparently, so after getting her to play the game, we (I) totally started to work in the story. Crystel is technically her apprentice, and Vitali is mine, but they share the story. What I mean is that one takes the place of the MC and the other would be kind of a side character, but not really. Just listen:

Crystel is the apprentice. She’s the one that dies and then revives, and gets involved in all the stuff. Vitali is her sister, who also gets involved in everything. I’m planning on writing a formal fic about this, but I’m lazy, so I’m just gonna be throwing things and facts and surely a lot of spoilers for said still-not-written fic.

The thing is, they’ll follow kind of Julian’s route, until they separate to Muriel’s (for Crystel) and Lucio’s (for Vitali). Crystel will end up with Muriel, that’s for sure, but to be honest I’m not entirely sure about Vitali. Neither of us is.

I screech Julian, she screeches Lucio, and I agree to this, but then she likes Julian more, and then Valdemar comes into play (we don’t give a fuck they’re aro/ace, it’s our story and we want them to shag), and so on and so forth.

Back to what I was saying… I tried to do kind of a, summary I guess, but I’m really bad at it so I didn’t feel like it was good enough to add. We’ll have to let things there for their story. I’ll proceed now to talk about them individually now. We starting with Crystel.

♡

Full name: Crystel Rhodes.

Nickname: Crys.

Gender and pronouns: Cisgender female, she/her.

Height: 1.72cm.

Body complexion: Normal really, but rather strong.

Familiar: Not designed yet.

Love Interest: Muriel.

Talent/type of magic: The same as the canon apprentice of course, although she has a thing for fire magic.

Arcana: Not sure, probably The Magician. We know nothing about this.

Personality: She’s a ray of sunshine. Easygoing, kind, has a good heart and a strong sense of ethic, justice, and morals. Extremely protective and caring. However, she’s kind of quick to lose her temper, mostly with people she dislikes. Very in contact with her emotions and feelings. Intelligent, although sometimes distracted.

Description (which I’m adding since I surely couldn’t capture it in the drawings because I’m bad at drawing): Has shoulder-lenght purple/reddish hair, bright blue eyes with long, curly lashes. Almost always wears a smile. Has little pigmentation on her lips, but her cheeks are naturally flushed, giving a more appealing look.

What would other characters describe her as: A beauty. Not only physically, but mentally.

Clothing: Not designed yet, probably something similar to Asra.

A curiosity: Her hair gets fuzzy when she’s angry.

Now let’s talk about her story, in a more freeform manner:

Crystel, as the apprentice, has experienced all the things the original apprentice has. She knew Julian and Asra, Julian failed to save her, she died, revived without memories, and all that jazz. When it comes to her backstory, however, things get better.

She’s older than Vitali for a couple years, but the other one is who took care of both of them since their parents had fallen ill because of poverty, which meant feeding badly and having poor living conditions; and latter on, they died because of this. It was hard for Crystel, who wouldn’t ever be really able to get over their death. She had no more option than to obey Vitali’s orders, who managed to find a place to live and a work for both. This all happened when she was around eight or ten.

They grew near the docks, and after some years, for reasons I’ll talk about in Vitali’s description, she separated from her, but maintained contact. She moved to a new place, and throughout more years, established a friendship with Julian. Her fascination for magic, though, lead her to also met Asra, and because of Vitali’s work, she met Nadia and Lucio. She became friends with all of them, excepting Lucio, holding a deep disdain for him.

Then she died, end of story.

♤

Full name: Vitali Worth.

Nickname: Vits.

Gender and pronouns: Genderfluid, and doesn’t give a fuck what you use to address her (although I mostly write about her using she/her).

Height: 1.80cm.

Body complexion: Thin, but has a slightly worked abdomen.

Familiar: Astaroth, a black fox.

Love Interest: Not sure, but has had encounters with Julian and Valdemar.

Talent/type of magic: Blood magic.

Arcana: Not sure, maybe Death.

Personality: Cold, methodical, stoic, and a tad of melancholic. She always chooses head over heart. Doesn’t really have morals, or ethic, but she’ll peruse truth to the end of the world. Easy to annoy her, but really hard, almost impossible, to get an expression out of her face. Mostly quiet and lost in thoughts. Extremely intelligent, observant, and sly. A bit malicious, too.

Description: Short, curly and puffy blonde hair, with pink ends. Deep green eyes, and death-pale skin. She uses makeup to make her lower lashes stand out more. Has a lot of pigmentation in her lips, making them catch one’s attention. Also, freckles!

What would other characters describe her as: An ice cube.

Clothing: Not designed yet, but mostly formal, yet not fancy.

A curiosity: If you learn to read her eyes, she’s kind of an open book.

Story time (warning for some strong things, kind of):

Her story begins the same as Crystel, but from her point of view, there was nothing to be sad for when her parents became ill and the died. The fuckers weren’t even good parents, not even before becoming so poor. On the contrary, they were abusive. Her father would beat them often and on one memorable ocassion, he almost raped Vitali; her mother, on the other hand, would punish them in horrible ways, like starving Vitaly for days or locking Crystel in the small trap door under their hose all night long, knowing that she was scared of darkness. So when they died, Vitali was happy. Crystel could’ve forgiven and forgotten, but she wouldn’t.

Hate would only lead her to nothing though, so she pushed herself to find a way of surviving.

At around fourteen, owning already a little house for her and Crystel, Vitaly began to learn about and practice magic. Forbbiden magic. The Red Magic, to be more specific. Magic fueled by blood. Vitali loved it. She didn’t care how much blood had to be spilled, either hers or some else’s.

But Crystel didn’t like this, and after a heated argument, she parted. Vitali didn’t stop her. She wouldn’t force her to like her things, but also wouldn’t change for her, so she waved goodbye and from time to time, they’d write letters to each other.

Sometime after that, having mastered the Red Magic, Vitali’s endless curiosity was pinched by science. The Red Plague was becoming more and more dangerous, and she wanted to know everything about it. So she became kind of an apprentice, learning from Street doctors until she moved on to doctors with license. At some point she was known by most doctors on Vesuvia, and after a little while,the Palace asked for her.

Working in the dungeons, she met Julian. They became fast friends, and she was a bit surprised when she found out he’d been freinds with Crystel for quite a while back.

And in there, she also met Valdemar. They established a solid and strong work relationship, since Valdemar took her under their wing, fascinated by her attitudes and fast learning brain. This evolved to a strange friendship, and then culminated in a stranger romantic relationship. However, this turned out to be a bad thing. Not beacuse they didn’t work as a couple, but because Vitale became an even worse workaholic. Trapped between her work, her thirst for knowledge, and her lover, Vitali was oblivious to Crystel’s illness.

And the Crystel died.

At the exact momento she did, at her house after a long night of work, Vitali suddenly fell asleep, and didn’t wake up until a couple of months later, barely remembering who she was. She did remeber clearly two things, though: One, her parents; and two, her Red Magic.

But deep down, below the headaches and fevers, her mind, or perhaps her heart, tried desperately to reach a forgotten memory, until it finally pushed hard enough: her sister.

♤

And there you have it. I hope I didn’t let any important info out, but I surely did lol. Not the end of the world though as I’ll be posting more about these two soon. Feel free to drop and ask about them if you’d like to know more. Also, reblogging would help a lot. I want them to be popular and cool, unlike me, lmao.

And be prepared for even more terrible art.

[mandabear72]

I managed to catch the portion of the livestream where everyone talked about "Who killed Markiplier" and it left me with some thoughts that I'm just trying to get out or vent now that everything was explained properly:

For starters, I wanna apologize because I had previously criticized the series. With the way it ended, I originally thought it was rushed and not well thought through when in actuality, they'd thought about this for MONTHS, even had the basis of it sprouting a little after they did "A Date with Markiplier". I DEFINITELY underestimated how much planning went into everything and was surprised about the whole process. 

Another thing I found out is that a lot of things I didn't catch went over my head my head because they were influenced by or references to shit I don't watch or read (i.e. Stranger things, American Horror story, War Hammer). That probably made even more confusing to try and understand. Honestly, it's kinda aggravating when everyone else is able to catch up on shit quicker or when you're just not able to pick up on it at all.

The explanations and break down of everything DID answer a lot of questions I had and some things I'm glad weren't what I previously thought they were. Though I am still curious about what happened to Mark's body and if Wilford and Selene were still together (though probably not)......that and as of current age skits, what the fuck's up with Darkiplier 2.0 and Wilford now? Because I'm pretty sure they're still not copacetic with each other.

Does this change my opinion on the ending or the entire series as a whole? Somewhat, but not entirely. I still think the ending could've been better in some ways and I'm calling bullshit on Mark for not knowing how sad it was until the editing process (You helped WRITE the fucking thing, how could you NOT know how tragic and fucked up the end was? You weren't "out to lunch" while writing and discussing it with your gang). HOWEVER, I am looking at everything from a different lens now that things have been explained.

There’s never any one particular thing or person to blame for the clusterfuck. So many factors went into it. Those factors being: The cursed house, Mark, Wilford, and Selene; in the respective order.

While the ones mainly involved (Mark, Selene, Wilford, and Damien) all seem to share the common theme of "The road to hell is paved with good intentions"; be it Mark being heartbroken over Selene leaving him for his friend and setting up an ill-advised plan to get her back, Selene wanting to understand the house better, Damien for wanting to spare your character and wanting to help Selene, and Wilford wanting to stay for Selene and his friend, Damien, the one I think suffers the most out of it all is Damien. Still, it always brings me back to the origins of the characters that count (IMO) and makes me almost wanna rethink my decision to reject the canon.

If I look at Darkiplier 2.0 and break them down, I don't think I'm quite as opposed to them now as I used to be. On one side, Selene's curiosity (Seline, Celine, I STILL dunno how the fuck I should spell her name) leads her to the dark arts to try and understand the cursed house better. She was clearly in over her head with the unknown forces she was messing with and it got the best of her. I’m still not overly fond of her though. As Mark mentioned in the livestream, she’s very manipulative, ambitious to a fault (or rather on the darker side of ambition), and somehow is able to control the entire room upon immediate introduction without having been there before. She also views our character as expendable since we’re a stranger to her and because “the ends justify the means”. Not to mention the thing with Mark and Wilford, but I’ll touch up on that later.

On the other side though, Damien is genuinely good and benevolent. I’d like to think of him as the glue of the gang and perhaps the entire series. He wants to keep his friends together and is seemingly the only shred of humanity amongst the madness of everything else going on. He’s just confused and wants the best for everyone. He didn’t deserve to go through everything and I’d say the only weakness of his is his temper. But even that never truly comes from a place of malice. It just seems like it’s in response to the inconsiderate actions of others and if anything, he’s a victim of the shitty actions of his friends and his sister. He even goes as far to spare your character the pain they would’ve endured with him and Selene by knocking them out of their body later. Despite it being a betrayal (leaving them doomed) on his behalf since they’re forever trapped in the mirror and the cursed house itself, I see how he was trying to be thoughtful.

Wilford on the other hand...... I dunno what to make of him any more. I know what I said about him in this previous post, but even this is being brought into question. While he’s not the direct cause of everything that happened, he’s still very much in the thick of it with in causing a good chunk of bullshit with Selene. While others or maybe the story suggests he’s a good person, I.....really don’t think so and retract what I said about redemption in that post. Mainly because one of the major events happening was that he engaged in an affair with Mark’s wife and ran off with her. Of course, Selene willingly goes with him and she’s just as guilty (because you can’t steal someone away), but also even if one argues that he feels remorseful, I say no because he didn’t learn a god damn thing.Technically, he was back on his bullshit in “The Warfstache affair” because he did the same thing which ALSO entails murder (CLEARLY he has no problems in the dating department so, why can’t this fucker find a single lady that’s DTF and make HER see God instead of someone who’s already spoken for?). Not to mention that he also owed Mark a shit ton of money....for what, I dunno. I can see how he would see murder as a joke though after everything that happened. I just wish he’d realize not everyone stayed in that house or was part of the occult.

Considering the last post I made about WKM, I understand it might make me look like a hypocrite and yes, there’re a good amount of cognitive dissonance I feel towards Wilford considering I liked him as a bad guy before while he was doing some crazy shit identical to what he did here (So then why’s THIS the straw that breaks the camel’s back, Amanda?). But I’m genuinely confused about him. In general, both Darkiplier 2.0 are assholes in their own rights but I think this backstory of theirs changed the way I viewed both of them.......I think before I was just viewing them as characters and taking them at face value, which I was completely fine with. I knew they weren’t good characters as far as the moral compass is concerned, but I think the ending to WKM shattered that and it soured how I viewed them with their additional layers and baggage (And I GENUINELY wonder how different this would’ve been if they didn’t make it an origin like they originally planned). I felt like it wanted me to care about these two characters and honestly, I didn’t like that or my own person realization that Wilford wasn’t all that redeemable/good and Darkiplier 2.0 wasn’t completely evil while one half of them wasn’t good. 

The 2nd problem with that is I didn’t WANT care about the two characters after seeing such a backstory. In general, I don’t care about shitty people that are beyond the point of return and their actions (much like anyone else’s) are still theirs to be held accountable for; no matter how tragic their story is. I mean, if I can separate them, I can manage to care for Damien. But I think Selene should’ve just left well enough alone after everything that happened, I don’t feel sorry for her, and half of me is kinda glad Wilford is suffering with the guilt and hallucinations. He has no one to thank but himself and to some extent, Selene so, he can continue to live with it.

But mainly, characters and their shittiness aside, the ending offers no ounce of hope, no silver lining, no light, nothing. Everyone loses! You too, viewer, Good day!.....and then later on tries to attempt some form of happiness to pass off be it Wilford as a journalist (How the fuck did that happen anyway when he was a colonel? Jim twins found him fuckin’ around outside the house and brought him in?) or.....MAYBE Dark 2.0 trying to find someone to trap with them and use for god knows what as an option in “A Date with Markiplier” and helping other Iplier characters network a show of sorts. I know not everything is always light, but damn, the end’s just one, big, depressive suckfest with no joy and leaves you with a sense that they’ll never truly be happy until Dark 2.0 gets their revenge (and even that’s a stretch because Damien and Selene would potentially fight for possession of the new body once revenge is done) and Wilford......maybe dies, I guess? I dunno. But then again, does he even really deserve to be happy in the first place after everything he did? Either way, it’s not fit for anyone that has a soul.

Despite all of this and the ending, I’m not so sure about wanting to reject this canon...not that it really matters anyway....and the series itself, while being a lot to take in and process (because there were a lot of things that weren’t really easy to catch onto references/influence or no), I can appreciate the other aspect of the story as well as the production of it more. Mark said he was gonna eventually type down everything about this and put it up for us but eh......considering how his schedule runs, I’ll hold my breath on that one. For now though, at least there’s some amount of closure with the explanations finally given.

[stacks-reviews]

New Releases 11/7/17

Happy New Release Day!

In Books --Descending Stories: Showa Genroku Rakugo Shinju Volume 4 by Haruko Kumota “After Sukeroku’s expulsion, Kikuhiko’s path to stardom seems clear, but the idea of inheriting the Yakumo name is a cold comfort. Sukeroku, disgraced, makes the heartbreaking decision to put his art aside and take responsibility for his new relationship with Miyokichi. As years pass and distance grows, Kikuhiko decides it’s up to him to bring his friend back to the theater. His determination takes him to the country, where Sukeroku now lives with his spirited young daughter. Kikuhiko is ready to stay as long as he needs to convince Sukeroku, but old wounds may come back to haunt them both.”

I haven’t had a chance to pick up volume 3 yet because we did not get a copy in where I work. And I haven’t had a chance to order it yet either. 

--Fantastic Beasts Illustrated Edition When I first head about this illustrated edition I thought it was going to be of the movie Fantastic Beasts so I wasn’t very interested in this one. But it turns out it is for all of the creatures mentioned throughout the HP universe. Now I really want this one. Just not sure when I’ll be able to.

--My Hero Academia Volume 10 by Kohei Horikoshi “The League of Villains has kidnapped Bakugo, and the resulting negative publicity has thrown U.A. into a huge uproar. With the public’s trust in heroes threatened, the faculty convenes to figure out what to do. But Midoriya and the students of Class 1-A have plans of their own - an operation to rescue Bakugo that could get them thrown out of school.”

Picking up right where volume 9 ended. Midoriya and his crew try to take back Bakugo but fail. And a few pro heroes are lost in the conflict. After their recovery in the hospital some of Class 1-A devise a plan to legally (meaning without using their powers) to try and save Bakugo. Which sounds like a bad idea all around. 

It’s a really good volume that ends on an evil cliffhanger. I need volume 11 but that won’t be out till 2/6/18.

--Perfect Shadow by Brent Weeks “Gaelan Starfire is a careful, quiet, simple farmer. He’s also an immortal, peerless in the arts of war. Over the centuries, he’s worn many faces to hide his gift, but he is a man ill-fit for obscurity.

When Gaelan must take a job hunting down the world’s finest assassins for the beautiful courtesan and crime lord Gwinvere Kirena what he finds may destroy everything he’s ever believed in.”

I HAVE BEEN WAITING YEARS FOR THIS MOMENT. I love Brent Week’s Night Angel Trilogy so when I heard there was a prequel novella I was pretty excited. Until I noticed it was ebook only; after a brief limited printing run that I found out much later on. But after waiting and waiting, it is back in print. Right when I was about to break down and buy it digitally. I am ecstatic to finally have it to go with the others. Now I just wish I had the trilogy in hardcover. I just have them in the mass market paperback box set. 

It includes the novella Perfect Shadow and a Night Angel short called I, Night Angel. 

--Renegades by Marissa Meyer “The Renegades are a syndicate of prodigies - humans with extraordinary abilities - who emerged from the ruins of a crumbled society and established peace and order where chaos reigned. As champions of justice, they remain a symbol of hope and courage to everyone...except the villains they once overthrew.Nova has a reason to hate the Renegades, and she is on a mission for vengeance. As she gets closer to her target, she meets Adrian, a Renegade boy who believes in justice - and in Nova. But Nova's allegiance is to a villain who has the power to end them both.“

From the author of the Lunar Chronicles series comes a new series. I really like the Lunar Chronicles. I recommend it a lot at work. Though I still need to finish it. Cress (book 3) has been sitting on my shelf for a little while but I’ve been trying to focus on the arcs I have. And have been failing. Anyway, I really like her other series and am excited to try out a new series by her.

--Twinkle Star Volume 4 by Natsuki Takaya “The second semester of school is starting, and Chihiro's kinder attitude toward Sakuya is making her heart race! When he recommends her a book to read, she's positively overjoyed. But on the way home from a night of stargazing with the Star Appreciation Club, Chihiro suddenly approaches her! What does he want to talk about...?”

After this just one more volume of this series should remain. I still haven’t had time to go past volume 1 of this series. I’ve had to put a lot of series on hold while I tried to cut back during the second half of this year. I will pick it back up again someday. Hopefully by next year.

In Movies/TV Shows --Cheer Boys “Catch an exciting new take on the high-flying team sport, inspired by a real all-male squad in Japan. When Haruki Bando and his friend Kazuma leave judo martial arts, no one would have guessed they would turn to cheerleading! Rocking the college campus with a killer routine, these amateurs manage to draw in a crowd and enough new members to compete in regionals.”

I started streaming this on Funimation during its season. I watched about half before I got into another gaming kick and haven’t picked it up again yet. I did like what I saw of it but it probably isn’t my favorite sports series. But I think it is still worth checking out. 

--Project Ito: Genocidal Organ “In Genocidal Organ, while developed countries rely on advanced surveillance to free them from the threat of terrorism, other nations are plagued by genocide within their own borders. Strangely, these massacres all link back to one American by the name of John Paul. Special agent Clavis Shepherd is sent to capture the target, but nothing can prepare this soldier—or the world—for the truth behind humanity’s darkness.”

The third and final Project Ito film. At least for now. I have been waiting on this one ever since the films were announced. I did watch Empire of Corpses and enjoyed it. Though I need to rewatch it soon because when I first watched it I was exhausted from work and kept having to rewind cause I kept nodding off for a few minutes at a time. I finally picked up Harmony a few months back but haven’t had time to start it yet.

--Revolutionary Girl Utena Set 2 “Utena and Anthy have become close during their time as roommates. So when Anthy casually mentions she has a brother, Utena can’t help but feel shocked. She thought she knew Anthy, but the longer she and Anthy are friends, the more she discovers she doesn’t know. What other secrets could Anthy be keeping? However, Utena won’t have time to dwell upon such matters. A new group of duelists has emerged from the shadows. These new challengers wear black rose signets and also seek revolution, but their methods are different than those of Ohtori’s Student Council. They don’t wish to possess Rose Bride. They are want kill her.”

Set 2 of the 20th Anniversary is now out. Contains episodes 13-24 of this great series. I have only seen it once all the way through. It is one of those series that you’ll have to watch over and over to get all the references and to catch all the imagery it contains. 

--Westworld S1 “Set at the intersection of the near future and the reimagined past, explore a world in which every human appetite, no matter how noble or depraved, can be indulged without consequence.”

Season 1 of this series is out today. I don’t have the channel that it is on so I haven’t had a chance to check it out yet. I’ve heard nothing but great things about so I can’t wait to try it out sometime. Though I would like to watch the movie it is based on before I try out the show. I have heard the soundtrack before because we used to have it as an in-store-play where I work. It is an awesome soundtrack. It was a staff favorite and we played it a lot.

--Your Name “Mitsuha and Taki are complete strangers living separate lives until they suddenly switch places. Mitsuha wakes up in Taki’s body, and he in hers. This occurrence happens randomly, and they must adjust their lives around each other. Yet, somehow, it works. They build a connection by leaving notes for one another until they wish to finally meet. But something stronger than distance may keep them apart.”

Was very disappointed when this came out in theaters because it never came anywhere close to where I live. I don’t think it played anywhere in my state for that matter. I did pick up a copy because I want to know if it really is worth the hype. I haven’t watched it yet because I decided to wait till my friend and I could get together to watch it together. 

There is a standard version (DVD and a combo pack) as well as an LE. The LE, “contains two-piece double-sided collectible chipboard box with rainbow holographic finish.” Like what they did for Death Parade’s LE. Which both are nice but makes me nervous that it would fall out if I picked it up wrong. It also comes with a 60 page art booklet, an art digipack, and a two disc OST. The second OST is shorter. It has five songs; if I remember correctly, that are sung in English by RADWIMPS.

[vt-scribbles]

In addendum to the thing I just posted from Mark:

The place where I differ from him is, well obviously, I’m nowhere near as big of a figure as he is. That, and one other huge thing. I used to only really care about pleasing others. I was an insecure new face on tumblr, and I was just figuring out my asexuality and was wondering if I was bigender or not. Eventually, of course, I settled comfortably on ‘no’ and stuck with He/Him pronouns, but chose to identify as Agender with masculine pronouns since plain ‘male’ didn’t suit me, but ‘female’ didn’t at all. Back then, I was worried that coming onto this site would be a huge mistake. I’d heard horror stories of Tumblr, and was hesitant to join. But, I’m glad I did, because I eventually met my best friend aside from Alfred, and would go on to start making The Harvester, a project that has brought me so much joy.

But let me give you a tale of caution. Back then, I was unhealthily focused on trying to make other people happy, regardless of what it did to me. It landed me in some unhealthy situations and ‘friendships’ that did more damage than good. I wound up in one particularly toxic ‘friendship’ where I did nothing but showered the other person in art and writing to please them; because if they were happy, I was happy. Eventually, though, I couldn’t give them all my attention. The art flow slowed, but I did try to keep contact every few days as much as I could. And then that friend vanished without a word, for a few months solid. People asked me where they’d gone, and I couldn’t give them an answer. I kept this person on skype, just in case. They never messaged me. Then, when they suddenly returned, I was so relieved. I messaged them on tumblr, and received no response. Sent asks. Nothing. I even drew this person a G/T picture for their birthday.

Nothing.

So I stopped trying. It was clear they were angry at me, but I had no idea why. I hesitantly unfollowed them, eventually, and they did the same within a few hours. I didn’t hear from them for almost half a year, until one day, they popped out of nowhere to message me. I thought perhaps they’d forgiven me for whatever it was I did to anger them. So I tried to pick up where we left off. I was given the cold shoulder. I asked if we could talk about what had happened, and I was given a rain check. The next day...

I received a letter.

This user, whom many of you have probably figured out if you’ve been around since the start or you know me well enough, shall remain unnamed. I have posted about them before, since this whole debacle, asking people not to ask me about them. I tried to be civil in that post, as it wasn’t my place to say anything about what happened between us.

But I feel like you should know what this letter did.

And if you’re reading this, and I know you know who you are, no. I don’t need your apology. I don’t want it. I never want to speak to you again.

This letter destroyed me for a while. It ripped into every insecurity I have, this person tore down everything I care about, everything that makes me happy, just shy of actually insulting my new friend I’d just started making. They tore apart The Harvester, Hema, my writing, told me that they only pretended to be interested in what we would talk about for hours on end, and they told me that I was exhausting. That being friends with me was exhausting. That our friendship ‘never meant anything to me’ like it did to them. Saying that I never cared to see what happened to them when they vanished for a few months, when I worried nearly every day if they were okay. And that’s just the damn tip of the iceberg.

And so, feeling like all this was my fault, I apologized, and we went our separate ways. And as much as that letter ate away at me, I kept it to myself. I didn’t want anyone to worry. I didn’t want anyone to go after this person. It was my fault, after all.

Or so I thought. Because months later, mere days before this person deactivated their account here on tumblr, they came back to me. They tried to spin this whole spiel about how they behaved the way they did because I was their first platonic crush. Now, I believe they did have a platonic crush on me, but that’s not the damn point. If that’s how they treat someone they have any sort of crush on, then I pity the next person they want to have a relationship with. Because when I got slightly bitter that they came back to me after laying that letter on me, just to try and excuse their behavior by saying ‘lol sorry it was the crush making me crazy’, they turned and said that ‘I didn’t mean most of what I said in that letter. I just said that stuff because I was mad and wanted to hurt you.’

Well congrats.

You did.

I hope that makes you happy. You fucked up what little trust I had been working SO HARD to build back up after years of having it abused. You fucked up my faith in my friends, you made me doubt that ANYONE likes talking to me, and you made me think that not only was my writing shitty, my gemsona/OC was shitty, and that I was a horrid, exhausting waste of space... Was this your intention? Did that near year of pampering you with art and thinking about you EVERY day just not do it for you? Was that not enough to satisfy that platonic crush of yours? Did you want me to give you every fucking moment of my life, and abandon my other friends to please you? Is that why I could never make you happy?

You broke something inside me. And I’m still trying to fix it, to this very day. I have depressive spells every time I think of you, I get sent into a downward spiral of ‘nobody actually likes me, it’s all just an act and my writing and friendships are all empty and shallow.’ I got nothing positive out of our ‘friendship.’ All I came out of it with was a newfound lack of trust towards anyone, and a bitter taste in my mouth. That, and now I struggle almost every week with any sort of confidence in my writing, especially when it comes to The Harvester; something that you said just made you SO angry to see me talk about that you had to keep blocking everything about it until you just unfollowed me entirely. You were never happy for me. You were never even a shred supportive. I tried to share something similar with you. We could have had a whole thing going with the Pokemon fic we tried to start. But, again, you were never interested in that. You said so yourself.

But even with all this negativity. All this bad taste left in my mouth.

I’ve tried to be respectful. I know about your other account you made, and happened to delete recently. I never called you out because I wasn’t going to stoop to that level. And, guess what, I’m still not going to. I know where you went, and what your new persona and everything was. But I’m not going to go revealing it to the world. I’m not as much of a vindictive monster as you seem to have made me out to be. I just want to sit in my corner with my friends and write and draw things that make me and my friends and the people who follow me, happy. You probably won’t see this unless you check in on my blog now and then, but if you do, I’ll say it again. I don’t want to speak to you. You need to take this all into account as you move forward with other friendships. I don’t wish you any ill will. I still hope that you find happiness in life, and that you can figure things out. Just so long as I’m not part of that picture. I can’t be. If you’re reading this, you know who you are. If you’re reading this and you’ve been around since my first year here on tumblr, you know who I’m talking about. And now you know a bit more about what happened, and why any art I made for them is gone from my account. Don’t go hunting this person down, and if you ever come across them or you’re in contact with them, do not go white-knighting. That’s not what I’m asking for.

This was merely a cautionary tale of what aiming to do nothing but please someone else [other people] can lead do. They get complacent, they get spoiled, they start to act entitled.

And that brings me to the positive side of this.

Since that whole incident... I’ve moved forward with my life. I’ve become closer with my friends like Alfred or Corrie, Corrie and I have REALLY hacked away at The Harvester and made it into something that, personally, we think is amazing, and only continues to get better as we improve our writing and storytelling. Our art has made such strides since working on this project, and between projects with Alfred and then TH, I’ve been able to see not only my own work improve in leaps and bounds, but I’ve been able to see my friends grow alongside me. And that’s incredible.

And... that sort of brings me to what I meant to talk about here in the first place. My sentiments line up with Mark in a big way in that... Corrie and I, by a stroke of fate, have created something that not only has brought us so much joy in life, but it has the power to move other people too. You guys have created fanart and videos, you’ve cosplayed, you send us dozens of messages each month, and some of you have even said that this story gives you something to look forward to each week. And that’s... incredible. It’s all incredible. We are both blessed with the ability to bring happiness to other people’s lives with something that we both ADORE working on and putting energy into. We love The Harvester SO much, and to see anyone share even a fraction of that passion... is so inspiring. We talk on a weekly basis about how, if people stick around with TH and keep being inspired by it enough to create things, that we’re going to get to see you guys grow. As people, as artists, as writers. And that’s incredible. We’re in this position where... something we made for fun, just to pass the time, turned into something that has inspired people. It turned into what we never could have expected. Something that others enjoy; they genuinely and whole-heartedly enjoy it. These people have no stake in getting free art from me or attention, not in the same way that others who have used me in the past do. They’re here for the story, the characters, the art we happen to post alongside TH. There are people in our community whose passion rivals that of our own. It’s... surreal. In the best way.

We understand that we can be a bit intimidating. But, we just want you to know that the excitement you feel when you see that we’ve updated, or that we’ve responded to your ask or commented on your fanart or followed your fan-side-blogs... that’s the same excitement WE feel when we SEE your fanart, your dedicated side-blogs, your posts in the Freckledot’s Archives tag or The Harvester tag. We get this rush of “!!! Look! They made a thing! They made a thing because we made a thing! They’re creating too, look at it!!!” And, sometimes it’s hard, as a fan of something, to convince yourself that you’re not an embarrassment or a burden. Believe me, we’ve BOTH been in that position. But know that we’re just as excited to see you guys grow and stuff as you are to see TH grow.

The mere fact that Corrie and I have this... thing that we’ve made. The fact that it even came into existence... baffles us. It was a stroke of pure fate. And that’s something you need to remember, yourself. Every creator wants their own TH. They want their own passion project that they can share with people and get excited over. And, sometimes, that feels like that’ll never happen. I know I felt like that for most of my life. I had my stories I could share with Alf and that we could write together... but at the time, those were just the buds of a writing hobby. I love them to DEATH and I wouldn’t trade them for anything, but back then, we had no plans to really share them. We wanted to make one of our stories into a movie, but had to set it aside for highschool homework. And then as things went along, I felt like I’d never have “the one” to share with everyone. The first big project to pour my heart into, either with someone or not, and then hesitantly put out into the world to be judged by others. But it happened. It’s happening right now, and I relish every moment of it. We both do.

So. Thank you. Genuinely, and sincerely, thank you. To those who have been following TH from the start, to those that’ve joined us along the way. To those who have stumbled across it and marathon’d it from start to current day. To those who send messages or theories or make art or 3d models or who leave thoughtful messages on the story or on art they reblog. To those who maybe even haven’t kept up, but they still like the story regardless. To those in the future who will join in this little community we have, surrounding a simple SU fanfiction that grew into so much more...

Thank you.

You inspire us to continue moving forward, and you give us hope that maybe the things we create are worth more than we often doubt they are. You inspire us as much as we inspire you, and that’s the truth. You haven’t turned this into something that we just do to please you, and that means more to us than we can express. You’re all so great and we can’t wait to see where you all are at at the end of TH, whenever that may be, years down the road. We may not be able to give every person the attention they want or deserve, especially as things continue to grow... but know that we do see things, and you’re not just posting to the void, only to be judged. We wouldn’t have a dedicated fan tag if that were the case. <3

But, I have rambled on long enough. If you took the time to read this... bloody hell, good on you. You get a cookie and a hearty nudge in the shoulder from me.

And that is all I have to say for now.

Sincerely,

- VT

[fuckyeahbadcodocs]

Birth Name: Yulia Antonovna Vorobieva [traditional russian naming conventions have been followed for this name, given, patronymic, surname–not tom mention the gender rules have also been followed, which is rare in this fandom. points to the mun for this.]

Current Name: Julia Null Mayfair [wtf kind of middle name is null? as in she HAS none? or…? okay special snowflake, dial back the linkin park] Callsign: Phoenix [speaking of special snowflake…. in my experience, the best fucking callsigns are literally the ones where you looked at a random object and went “that”… like “coffin” or “stiletto”.] Rank: Agent Specialty: Intel Allegiance:  Captain Price [price has like 3 friends…. soap, macmillan and sandman–but then I’ll bet you’re in the 141 (which evidently has a cast of thousands), so I guess that counts. sort of.]                      Yuri Alkaev                       Task Force 141 [do I get bonus points?]                       MI-5                      Gary ‘Roach’ Sanderson [yeah. you and the rest of the fucking fandom. wtf is y’alls fixation with a pair of arms????]                      Alkaev crime family Past allegiances: MI-5 Section H Date of Birth: January 13th, 1981 Age: 34 (Variant) [this is a reasonable age for SF. good on you] Place of Birth: Leningrad, Russia (Now St. Petersburg) [clearly, the mun gives a shit about their character’s country of origin] Face Claim: Jennifer Connelly [normally, we don’t judge good or bad on FC’s or art, but DAMN GET IT GURL] Height: 5’9”/175 cm [thank you for not being a midget like the rest of the female OC’s I deal with Weight: 130 lb/59 kg [ur dying. eat something. not skinny shaming here, just trying to save a 5′9″ woman’s like because christ, she’s like skin and bones] Hair: Black, falls to waist Eye: Pale blue [join the club. are they shimmery like crystals or chilly like ice?] Ethnicity: Caucasian Sexuality: Demisexual

Character Profile-

History - 

Born in St. Petersburg to an apparently single mother, Yulia Vorobieva’s earliest years were reportedly average. Her mother, Dominika, took care of Yulia to the best of her abilities, supporting herself and her daughter through her work as an artist. The child was raised in a home that was by all accounts happy, until her mother’s sudden death in an automobile wreck in 1986. After this, Yulia fell off the radar for nearly ten years once taken in by her father. More is known about her father’s actions during this time than Julia’s own. [tragic backstory time–though so far this one’s pretty tame… we shall see.] Vorobiev, a former Spetsnaz operative [of course], tuned to mercenary work upon his dishonorable discharge early in his military career. Apparently unsatisfied with the direction his life was taking, the young soldier turned to political activism in his spare time, becoming a noted supporter of anarchy. Known to have had a hand in several riots and violent demonstrations, he spent much of his late twenties in jail, and eventually separated from his wife. Upon Dominika’s death several years later, Vorobiev took custody through abducting his daughter before returning to a stronghold in a largely uninhabited section of the Ural mountain range, near Usva village. [ngl, kinda intrigued and also wondering why an anarchist activist living in the mountains would want his daughter at all–what a fucking pain] The reclusive man, now a leader in the Eastern European anarchist movement, led a private war against the governments of several countries, funded through illegal activities that included drug trade, human trafficking, and extortion. For nine years, the anarchist leader was unable to be found, untouchable by the west and his own countrymen. [I’ll bet he also abused her. wanna take that bet?] In early 1997, Yulia was once more sighted, after nearly a decade missing.  Soldiers from a specialized task force were sent to neutralize the threat posed by Vorobiev, and were successful in their assassination. The only reported survivor of the massacre in the Anarchist leader’s stronghold was a young girl, later to be identified as Vorobiev’s own teenaged daughter. [because those dudes wouldn’t have shot a child by accident in all the gunfire or on purpose because they may or may not have been fucking psychos to assault a bunch of Russians in a fucking mountain base] When brought in for questioning by the Russian government, the girl was said to have been skittish and dis-associative, traits that would later lead to a PTSD diagnosis. [join the club, they have jackets (and husbandos like Soap)] Showing signs of severe abuse, [THERE it is! I knew it. her father only wanted her so he could abuse her and give her to his men, probably. I’m actually surprised the bio doesn’t go into that, ‘cause they usually do. thanks for sparing us] Yulia was questioned, but refused to speak. With Americans and the British clamoring for the information that the girl might have, and distrusting the only recently post-Soviet Russian government, both offered to hear the girl out. [because the CIA and MI6 are so willing to wait for information–they often make offers to teenage girls. my eyes are rolling into the back of my head. Yulia accepted the offer presented by the English, on her own terms. She woulbe given asylum, UK citizenship, and be given the name of a soldier involved in the raid on her father’s base. [here comes princess sparklebeans, the super soldier] Yulia shared what she knew, had most of her terms met, and was eventually turned loose to a series of group homes to try and rehabilitate the nearly feral child back into normal society. [but she was able to comprehend such a deal from the british government, despite being Mowgli] After several years being passed between foster homes, struggling with society and her education, Julia finally aged out of the system and entered college, studying to one day join MI-5. From the day her father died, the girl seemed to have made it a goal to find and help the man that had, in her own words, freed her. Once out of school, Yulia, having renamed herself Julia Mayfair, filled a small opening in MI-5. The team she joined were mainly desk jockeys, tasked with making sure no Ultranationalist threats entered the UK, and any that did slip through were dealt with. [How’re a bunch of pencil-pushers gunna accomplish that, I wonder?]

Julia found herself satisfied with her work, if lacking in some areas. Her various neuroses and social anxiety made for poor field work, at least where getting close to others was concerned, but her skill for manipulation showed through in interrogations and problem-solving. Quick-thinking and sharp-tongued, Agent Mayfair soon proved herself a valuable asset whilst in the Grid, and proved eager to please her superiors. Most were, however, concerned by Mayfair’s apparent lack of a personal life, something that was scrutinized greatly in her time with the secret service.

Joining the 141 - [Haven’t we discussed ladies in the 141? Seems like I’m always harping on this.] After more than a decade of successful work for MI-5, Julia’s career was pushed into an exciting new direction: Looming unemployment and lawsuits. [You have my attention.] After having gotten violent with a particularly physical young soldier outside of a club, an event that ended with the man maimed, Julia was facing several charges, including assault. Awaiting charges, General Shepherd approached the interrogation wunderkid and offered to make her legal struggles vanish if she would just work for the 141. Knowing the man who saved her life had moved on from the SAS to the 141, she accepted willingly, desperate to see the man that meant so much to her. [wait, this’s Price, right? Also how the fuck-shit-stack did she know ANYONE on the roster of the 141–unless Shep used it as leverage? But why would he do that, or care? fuck, man…. just… fuck]

In the 141 / Thread Interactions - At first, the woman seemed an odd fit for the elite task force [what with being a… WOMAN an’ all], with no formal military training [ lemme guess, she’s bad with guns and only uses knives and–okay I’ll stop] and national origins that made her an easy target. While her skill was in no way doubted at first, her social capabilities once again caused no small amount of issues in her daily life on base [but I thought she had no formal military training–that’d be where I’d start doubting]. Her victim-like bearing attracted much trouble, including an incident where Julia was assaulted by a particularly ill-tempered soldier for speaking against him. After a spectacularly botched mission in Romania, Julia was kept away from action for the foreseeable future. With more time on base, Julia realized she would have to find a place to belong. [in Price’s bed, I’m guessing] Befriending a local civilian [idk if they let these psychos “offbase” on their “downtime”… I fucking wouldn’t] by name of Yuri Alkaev, Julia slowly started to adapt to her new life. The tipping point between the timid woman who entered the 141 and the more capable person she has become came one night in a drunken fit. Julia rather harshly called out the soldier who assaulted her for her wrongdoings upon discovering she was not the only woman who had faced his wrath. Despite backlash for her actions, Julia felt herself justified, and walked with a bit more confidence having been able to face her enemy. Having made several friends out of coworkers, Julia seems to have truly settled into the 141, no longer being an FNG or a total outsider. Still, the taste of being able to have power over someone left an impact on Julia, who found herself wanting more respect in the months since her calling out of the sergeant. Having stood by the 141 loyally, Julia has proved a capable worker and asset to the 141 intelligence department, giving her all to help her coworkers to win the fight against militant Ultranationalists. Her true allegiance is not, however, to the 141 itself. With a devotion to Captain Price [OH FUCK here it is.] that most would call unsettling, there is no doubt where the woman’s loyalties lie. Her strong relationship with her career tends to highlight her lack of a personal life, of which some rumor is made among fellow intel operatives, but little is ever brought up to Julia directly.[Lemme guess, because she’s so scary.]  Regardless of Julia’s devotion for the older captain, her loyalty to Yuri has proven nigh-unbreakable, especially after he supported her growing want for power. Yuri’s recently being revealed as working for Vladimir Makarov, before defecting from the Inner Circle and agreeing to work against his former employer, has prompted frightful changes in the woman. Her adoration of Yuri, no matter how pure, has set her down a path that no one could account for, where she plays a bit closer to the Devil than the 141 would ever allow. If anyone in the 141 was made aware, there is no doubt she would be branded a traitor, perhaps even executed for associating with public enemy number one. [Lemme guess, bich gon’ sleep with him]

Julia’s work with Makarov is a closely guarded secret, and the only ones aware are the two involved and Yuri. Even Julia cannot say for sure if her dealings with the Ultranationalist leader are a play for power, or building towards revenge for the man she considers brother. Survival has, as ever, been an important goal for Julia, and her communications with Makarov could be a way of ensuring no matter who wins the coming war, she has the connections to survive and gain power. Love for Yuri, however, makes her eager to tear Makarov apart, and it is just as likely her dealings with the man are simply a diversion until such a time as she can avenge the horrors her brother suffered. [How the fuck do these girls get close to this fuckin’ dude?!] As it is, Julia stays several steps ahead of both members of the conflict, entertaining her own ideals and goals for the present.

After noticing several discrepancies in pre-existing files, Julia was brought to the brink of questioning her mental state. Had she disassociated and misread the files the first time? Had she uncovered some sort of plot? Upon bringing her concerns to General Shepherd, her career savior seemed less concerned than she would have preferred, but he seemed to have taken note of her anxieties worsening. Deciding that the woman was dealing with some sort of cabin fever brought on by her desk job, the General pushed her towards more work in her field. [Does that… happen? “Ur getting bored behind ur desk so go shoot some bitches”]

It was through cooperation with her old allies in MI-5 that Julia began her work to expand the 141’s sphere of influence. By making professional alliances with a noted Secret Service agent that had once outranked her, as well as cultivating a friendship with a certain MI-6 operative of some infamy, Julia has made herself a well-connected woman of growing influence.

Now tied up in a web of her own devising, Julia believes herself to have the connections and means with which to survive no matter the outcome of the gathering storm. The greatest threat to her security now is the possibility of her schemes being uncovered, her life now hinging on if she is unveiled as a traitor or not. Many have said the games she plays have made her her father’s daughter, comparable to the monster that destroyed her, but Julia is above such ‘mindless prattle.’

She does what she must to survive, just as she always has. You can be brutal without being cruel, she has decided, and that is the shade of difference between Vorobiev and his daughter.

Repeating such a thought helps her sleep more easily, when she has the time for it.

Characterization-

Personality: When it comes to Julia, the first thing thing to come to mind will be either hard-working or frightening. After a long stint being too afraid to speak up or be seen, Julia has finally begun to shake some of her timid nature while working for the 141, mainly through anger. Once she was too nervous to speak to others, and can now find it in her to order others around. While far from being over the trauma that caused her previous behavior, she is at least able to work around her shy nature now, if only in anger. Julia puts her all into working, and will be the first one into the office and the last one out. She enjoys the distraction from her thoughts that her work offers, and in addition has a real passion for her chosen field. The work is fun, at least to her, and she enjoys pouring over documents and trying to decipher the enemy’s next move. Despite Julia’s growing sense of self-importance, she has a kind heart to those she deems worthy, and will gladly help others if she is capable. She looks out for her own, and would do anything for those who earn her trust. Showing herself to be reserved, professional, and helpful, Julia is considered a great asset to her department. Despite Julia’s virtues, she can also show a sharp tongue and a lack of mercy to those that wrong her. Unforgiving and obsessive, Julia can make a terrible enemy, and has put her skill as an interrogator to use tearing down those who have hurt her. Deeply haunted by her nightmarish childhood, she clings desperately to those that show her respect and affection, and her loyalty runs deep to a fault. She does not give up on her views of others, and is set in her ways. A habitual liar, it is unlikely anyone really knows the woman beneath the snowy exterior, and Julia wears her lies so comfortably that it is unlikely anyone will unless she allows it. She is known to smother her own issues and carry on as best she can without sharing her problems, until she inevitably breaks down. Even as Julia grows into her voice and her view of herself, she still shows remnants of her previous nature, including anxiety that she cannot shake no matter how she tries. This anxiety is often leveled at those men who approach her, and crowds in general. Single-minded to a fault, Julia’s hardworking nature easily turns to a workaholic nature, and she can and will run herself ragged over work that needs doing. [Okay, fairly well-plotted and in-depth tbh] Skills and abilities: Shepherd tapped Julia for the 141 mainly due to her astounding skill at interrogation. [Maybe I missed how she went from desk work to “interrogation” and what happened to being savage without being cruel?] The woman has a talent for dressing people down to their bare bones, and can talk the unprepared into anything from confessing their crimes to even suicide. She can play any number of roles to ensure cooperation from her targets, and can have even the worst men eating out of her hand with a little time and effort. She also has a sharp mind, which is infinitely useful for her career. She is meant to decipher possible Ultranationalist movements and motivations, and is a good logical thinker. Her critical thinking and problem solving are impeccable. Julia is a more than capable hunter, patient and good with a knife. [I almost gave this my OH GREAT ANOTHER KNIFE SPECIALIST treatment… except this is just extra, so I’ll let it pass.]A childhood spent hunting in the wilds of the Ural Mountains have honed her skill to a fine, knife-like edge, though this skill is hardly necessary in her new life. Habits:   Julia has picked up a habit of smoking when stressed, though only in extreme situations. She has a habit of fidgeting and picking at her clothes or toying with her hair and fingers when nervous. She tends to flub English turns of phrase regularly. Strengths:  Julia is very good at manipulating people, which is invaluable in her line of work. Personally, she proves incredibly resilient to trauma and the darker aspects that the world has to offer her. [Well, at least she’s admitted she’s manipulative; extra points for using it consciously…] Flaws:   Julia’s obsessive nature is a double edged sword both personally and professionally. She holds those she cares for too tightly, and refuses to let go of work when given it, no matter the cost for either.

History -

Education: College graduate, Newcastle University alumni Previous employment: MI-5 Section H (Anti-Ultranationalist Unit) Prior stations: Thames House Service record: Operative and Intel Analyst for MI-5 Conduct record: Assault (wiped clean upon joining 141) Parents: Anton Vorobiev, terrorist/anarchist leader/ex-Spetsnaz, deceased                  Dominika Reznova, [Wait... like Reznov? Viktor Reznov? STOP] artist, deceased

Health-

General health: Good constitution, though lacking in stamina; Healthy. Physical build: Thin, fragile [And thus Shepherd said “yes, I want this waif on my team of burly badasses…. or not] Physical illnesses: Anemia [Same applies.] Mental illnesses: PTSD, Social Anxiety Disorder, Insomnia, Nightmare Disorder [join the club, ya special snowflake] Scars: Long, ugly scar running deep from under her right armpit to the bottom of her ribs, gained as a result of falling out of a tree as a girl; Small circular burn scar on neck from being careless with a curling iron in college. Health record: Admitted for a near overdose on prescription medication in 2002.  Medications: Prazosin, Zoloft. [Not in SF, darlin’. That ain’t gunna fly. Hell, I don’t think you can be on that shit in the regular military, either… much less a highly-selective, super-elite, semi-para-military outfit like the 141] Possible handicaps in the field: Low stamina, weak. Possible handicaps in daily life: Anxiety; Haphephobia (Fear of touch); Erotophobia (Fear of sex) Dietary restrictions: None Allergies: Penicillin [good, this a believable, common allergy]

[postgamecontent]

Ninja Gaiden Spotlight: Ninja Gaiden Shadow & Shadow of the Ninja

While the series faded away almost as quickly as it started, Ninja Gaiden spread itself out across a wide variety of systems during its brief run at the top. While the NES trilogy proved to be of a level of quality none of the other contemporary games in the series could live up to, some of these other spins on Ninja Gaiden were still decent. The best of the bunch came mere months after the release of Ninja Gaiden 3 with Ninja Gaiden Shadow's release on the Nintendo Game Boy. Interestingly enough, it wasn't even intended to be a Ninja Gaiden game until almost the last minute. This article looks at Natsume's contribution to the series, which made a curious cousin out of what had been an unrelated title.

Ninja Gaiden Shadow

Original Release Date: December 13, 1991 (JPN)

Original Hardware: Nintendo Game Boy

When Nintendo's Game Boy arrived on the scene in the spring of 1989, it opened up a lot of doors for publishers who had found success on Nintendo's first home console, the 8-bit NES. Not only was it a new platform to release games on, it was a new platform whose audience could be somewhat reliably counted upon to already have knowledge of brands that were popular on the NES. Indeed, almost all of the big third-party NES hits made at least one appearance on the handheld. Castlevania, Contra, Mega Man, Double Dragon, Adventure Island, Gradius, and many more player favorites did their best to give the NES experience on the go, to varying degrees of success. So it's no wonder that Tecmo sought to do the same with Ninja Gaiden, which was at the time their strongest worldwide brand.

With the console team cranking out annual sequels, however, there was no time for them to handle a Game Boy game. Similarly, other teams at Tecmo had their own fairly popular franchises to work on, so they couldn't be pulled away either. Tecmo finally found their answer in an unlikely place. In the years before they would become well-known as the publisher of Harvest Moon, Natsume mostly made side-scrolling action games for publishers like Taito and Jaleco. These weren't top-shelf efforts by any means, but they were decent enough, particularly given half of them were licensed games, a category for which the quality bar was quite low on the NES.

One of their original efforts, and I use that term somewhat loosely, was called Shadow of the Ninja. It's hard to say if it was inspired by Ninja Gaiden, though it very well may have been. The game sold well enough, so Natsume got to work on a Game Boy version. A few months before it was finished, Tecmo stepped in and bought the publishing rights to the game. A few swapped sprites, some added music, an extra line of text or two, and a minor mechanical adjustment later, Shadow of the Ninja for Game Boy had become Ninja Gaiden Shadow. It's not a total cover-up job, as huge chunks of Shadow of the Ninja are still in the game as-is. That’s probably why it hasn't been re-released on the Virtual Console or in any compilations.

Given the history behind its development, it's hardly surprising that Ninja Gaiden Shadow doesn't play much like the NES games. The funny thing is, this wasn't out of the ordinary for Game Boy versions of NES franchises. Castlevania Adventure didn't play much like the NES games, after all, and even Mega Man had a different feel thanks to the modified screen proportions. So when Ryu Hayabusa couldn't stick to walls or use any ninja arts save the Fire Wheel, it was just assumed by many that it was just another case of a stripped back Game Boy installment. Plus, whether by design or circumstance, Ryu had already adopted the hand-over-hand ceiling that was characteristic of Shadow of the Ninja in Ninja Gaiden 3, which had released by the time Ninja Gaiden Shadow came out. If you didn't know the story behind Ninja Gaiden Shadow's or hadn't played Shadow of the Ninja, you would be forgiven for thinking this was just a quirky cousin.

Like a lot of early Game Boy action games, Ninja Gaiden Shadow is quite short on content. There are only five stages, and they're much shorter than anything seen in the NES games. While there are a few sections where the stages scroll vertically, you're mostly walking from left to right killing bad guys, occasionally switching between the ceiling and the floor as needed. Without the wall-climbing of the NES games, there's a lot less to worry about in terms of navigating hazards, and the many bottomless pits of the main franchise are few and far between here. Power-ups are limited to extra lives, health restoratives, and ninja magic points. Ryu only has access to the Fire Wheel ninja magic in this game, with each use costing one magic point. You can stockpile a maximum of five points, and if you die, you'll lose all but one point. Ryu can stab at enemies using his Dragon Sword from standing, ducking, and hanging positions. He can also employ a grappling hook to reach higher ceilings. It only goes straight up, so don't expect any fancy Bionic Commando shenanigans here.

Perhaps the most striking difference is the overall lack of cinematic cut-scenes. It uses a slightly modified version of Shadow of the Ninja's opening, but other than that, all we get are simple animations showing Ryu killing each of the bosses. A few stills done in the same art style as the NES games accompanied by a loose story would have gone a long way towards making this feel like more of a proper chapter, I think. As it is, it ends up feeling like exactly what it is: a stripped-down Shadow of the Ninja with a few Ninja Gaiden elements jammed in where there was time to fit them. It's not terrible, especially given the standards of action games on Nintendo's handheld early on, but it's largely forgettable.

When compared to the NES games, Ninja Gaiden Shadow is generally a much easier game to get through. The bosses can be quite difficult, but since the whole game doesn't last much longer than a half hour or so, even a full restart doesn't feel like the end of the world. The most difficult part of the game is the final crawl towards the end boss, but even in that regard, it's nowhere near as hard or mean-spirited as the NES games could be. Plus, there's only one final boss. Okay, he has two forms, but they flow together into one fight. Take him down and you get a nifty animated scene of Ryu finishing him off and walking into the proverbial sunset. Strangely, this game is meant to take place years before the battle with Jaquio, so I guess Ryu just forgot about all of this afterwards.

It's hard to say if Tecmo would have been interested in doing another Game Boy Ninja Gaiden if circumstances had been different. The franchise was quickly burning out, and the Game Boy's situation was looking quite grim prior to its miraculous resurrection at the hands of Pokemon. In any case, Natsume's own situation got very complicated soon after this game's release, so I imagine any hope of a second Ninja Gaiden Shadow fell by the wayside. It's probably just as well. The Game Boy wasn't especially well-suited for action games like Ninja Gaiden, and even the slower pace of Shadow of the Ninja wasn't a perfect fit. The Ninja Gaiden series wouldn't see another original handheld release until 2008's Ninja Gaiden: Dragon Sword, a creative Nintendo DS riff on the Xbox revival.

Shadow of the Ninja

Original Release Date: August 10, 1990 (JPN)

Original Hardware: Nintendo Famicom

While it might seem strange to cover Shadow of the Ninja while leaving out honest-to-goodness Ninja Gaiden games like the Game Gear installment, in the interests of being thorough I thought it would be a good idea to check out the game that Ninja Gaiden Shadow was spawned from. It also doesn't hurt that, unlike Ninja Gaiden Shadow, Shadow of the Ninja is readily available through the Virtual Console service on various Nintendo platforms. If you want to do things by the book, the easiest access to a Ninja Gaiden Shadow-like experience is in playing this NES game instead. That it's the better game of the two serves as a nice bonus, too.

It's rather interesting that Shadow of the Ninja ended up being the basis for a Ninja Gaiden game, because as much as the ninja set-dressing fits, the pacing and flow of the game is closer to something like Mega Man or Castlevania. The NES Ninja Gaiden games are constantly pushing the player to move, move, move. Almost every enemy goes down in a single hit, respawns if you so much as look at them funny, and is carefully positioned to knock you to your doom if you stop to take a breath. By contrast, Shadow of the Ninja has a more deliberate speed to it. You're free to take as much time as you want to assess the situation, apart from a couple of sections where something deadly is chasing behind you. Almost all of the enemies take multiple hits before going down, and even the bosses are hit-sponges on a level Ninja Gaiden could only dream of. It's also absolutely vital that you pay attention to which items you're picking up, as an abrupt and ill-advised weapon change can put you in a real bad spot.

Another way it separates itself from Ninja Gaiden is in how its level structure, lives, and continues are set up. Your life meter carries over from map to map, and even beating a boss only restores a portion of any lost damage. There are health pick-ups strategically placed around each level, but due to the basic set-up, every hit counts for a lot. There are no extra lives, and you get a mere five continues to make it to the end of the game with. It's not impossible by any means, but you really do need to run a tight ship here on a scale that wasn't necessary in most other NES side-scrollers. There are five chapters to the game, each with two or three stages and a boss encounter. One nice concession is that falling down a pit doesn't automatically kill you, instead penalizing you for a certain amount of life points and respawning you.

One of the more notable unique points of Shadow of the Ninja is its support for simultaneous two-player co-op. There are two characters, a male ninja and a female ninja. While their appearances differ, they are mechanically identical in all respects. If you're playing by yourself, you can take your pick of the two, which is a fun extra. In two player mode, each player takes control of one of the ninjas. Having a second pair of hands can be enormously useful, but there is a serious catch. Those five continues I mentioned? If you're playing two-player, you have to share those. No fighting over the remainder, friends. I'm sure two skilled players could make ground beef out of the game in the co-op mode, but for my purposes, it was a lot easier to go it on my own. One nice point for Virtual Console players is that you can make use of the 3DS Download Play feature to get a co-op game going, if that's how you want to roll.

Shadow of the Ninja can be beat by one player, but there were spots along the way that really felt like they were meant for two. Take the basic weapon system, for example. You start off with a katana that has a very short range. It won't be long before you find a kusarigama, a sort of weighted chain. It has a long range but will only do damage with the tip, so if anyone gets in close, you'll be in a pinch. The game rewards you for sticking with one weapon. Collecting an icon that matches your currently-equipped weapon will power it up a level, while changing weapons knocks it right back down to its regular form. At the same time, certain enemies and situations are best handled with one weapon of the two, so if you don't change weapons you're going to have a harder time. Ideally, you'd probably have one player stick with swords and the other with chains, but if you're on your own, you'll have to make do.

Things heat up in Shadow of the Ninja a lot quicker than they do in Ninja Gaiden. By the second stage, you're already getting overwhelmed with speedy enemies that aren't afraid to press you. While you're going to want to memorize as much as you can, it also helps to take things slowly. There's no timer in this game, so you can move at your own pace. I found that stopping and assessing each area helped me find the best way through. While it might seem like weapon power-ups are just scattered around, there's often a method to the arrangement. 

For example, one stage late in the game has a kusarigama just before an enemy that's out of reach. You might be tempted to grab it because it makes dispatching that enemy easier. But if you leave it and jump the gap, you'll be able to use your sword to pick up a shuriken power-up that makes clearing the next few enemies a lot easier. Once you've beaten them, you can go back and collect the kusarigama for use against the stage boss, where it's virtually necessary for a victory. That's almost like a puzzle, and it's not something you would expect from a game like this.

The game's other claim to fame is in its hand-over-hand climbing move. Your character can cling to certain ceilings, shimmy along, and flip up over top of them. Similarly, you can also fall through certain floors and cling to their undersides. Many of the game's navigational challenges require deft use of this move, and it's also important for making certain enemy groups easier to tackle. The grappling hook found in Ninja Gaiden Shadow isn't included here, so you can only stick to ceilings you can reach by jumping. Still, it's a cool move and a good way of making the action play out differently from Ninja Gaiden's wall-jumping antics. It seems extremely likely that Tecmo took inspiration from Shadow of the Ninja for Ryu's new hand-over-hand move in Ninja Gaiden 3. Turnabout is fair play, I suppose.

Although it comes on a bit stronger in the beginning, I think Shadow of the Ninja is an easier game than Ninja Gaiden. The life system is strict, but the health pick-ups are placed sensibly to give you a recharge right when you usually need one. The final stretch towards the last boss and the boss himself are absolutely brutal, but it's no worse than the first Ninja Gaiden game's closing areas. One thing I don't like is how many hits the bosses take, though. They have life meters but you'll often have to hit them a ridiculous amount of times before you'll see any change in those meters. Their behaviors aren't all that complex, with only a few different attack patterns each. Once you've learned how to avoid their attacks and get in your own licks, boss battles turn into long slogs of doing the same couple of things over and over again. It's the one sour note on what I feel are mostly better boss encounters than the ones found in the Ninja Gaiden games.

Shadow of the Ninja may be considered family to Ninja Gaiden, but only in the in-law sense. The game feels quite different from Ninja Gaiden on a fundamental level, really only sharing the core idea that ninjas are pretty awesome. It's a pretty difficult game, but that's hardly a rare trait in games of this vintage. What is rare is that simultaneous co-op mode, and while I think the average player is better off going it alone, you'll likely have more fun as a pair. It's a meat-and-potatoes NES action game, and while it probably won't make it into the history books for anything in particular, it's better than you might expect it to be. Oh, and the music is pretty fantastic, too. Shadow of the Ninja certainly makes for a nice chaser after running through the Ninja Gaiden NES trilogy, if nothing else.

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