#i have received my dopamine hit for the day <3

[bloodcounts]

i received an odd package in the mail today. not quite sure what it is … i feel weird whenever i look directly at it.

[scienceoftheidiot]

Ok listen I like these posts about how AO3 kudos and hits don't mean much about the quality of your writing and I do stand by it

But it would make me roll my eyes a lot less if the people who made those posts didn't consider a fic with over 200 kudos (TWO. HUNDRED.) "not working" or "low engagement".

Low. Engagement. Two hundred people. Wtf.

Dudes ? I consider myself successful and I only have a couple of fics that are over 200 kudos. Those are the most important ones I've written, be it the one I'm currently writing or the one I have not managed to finish years ago and that is still receiving kudos (in another fandom. Never again. The guilt is still there. Yet I can't). Either way, I cherish each and every kudos I get. That means. Over 200 actual living people. Have read my stuff.

Like.

This is the same when I have like 3 or 4 or 20 kudos. That means actual real people have read and liked enough to click a button telling me so. Real people. Fuck, that's awesome.

Not even talking about comments because those have been keeping me actually up and functional these last three-four days (if you read this, thank you SO MUCH, I'll try to reply soon - and churn out a new chapter).

What I mean is : those posts are made by people who want to be nice and are, but honestly are lucky enough to write what most of a big big fandom wants, just as they say themselves. That also means they have their numbers incredibly mixed. They're disconnected from most of fic writers.

My most "working" fics have around 200 kudos and this is an INSANE number. Contrary to the people in these posts, I do not consider myself struggling to get views or kudos or comments because of these numbers - it's the total contrary (even if like all writers I crave them!!! I do!!!! The dopamine surge!!! How people underline their fave parts of the chapter!!! DID I MAKE THEM CRY). I'm actually baffled that my fics and especially the one that I'm currently writing are getting so many people to click on them, given how old the fandom is and what I write about.

I'm not saying be happy with what you got if you want to be famous or anything. Just. Put some perspective behind the numbers.

Two. Hundred. Actual. Real. Living. Individuals.

Is a HELL of a lot.

[suspendingtime]

20 Questions for Fic Writers!

I've been tagged by @stars-of-kyber and @andthebubbles. 😁 So although I feel barely qualified, I guess I best do this...

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

7. 🤗

I started about 2 months ago, so... and yes, they're all Kanthony. Initially just started as a way of contributing to Anthony Week 2023, and I didn't even expect that I'd actually do all 7 days.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

13,370.

Currently ranging at 661 to 3,779 per fic. Rookie numbers!

3. What fandoms do you write for?

So far, just my beloved Bridgerton.

But there have been a couple other shows that have tempted me...

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Astride  - 166

Nursery  - 118

Hunt - 105

Yours - 94

Temptation - 88

Having published a handful with various ratings, it's quite interesting to see the kudos, bookmarks (private vs public), and subs ratios! Much to think about.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes.

Why... I sort of have a need? Idk, when I see a comment it's hard to just leave it hanging there and not to reply. Like irl if someone looked at something I made and verbally commented on it... and I just stared back blankly not saying anything. 😐 This is how it feels to me on the receiving end at least haha. And my replies saying various forms of 'Thank you!' is probably quite repetitive, but hey ho.

Plus comments give you that lil hit of dopamine; from both povs as a writer or reader. Being on the reader side for most of my Ao3 activities I tend to comment on most of fics I read, I can't help it - I must tell you what I loved about it and why, and there's a pleasure in reciprocating that back too. Look, now I've written half an essay on the subject, gaaah. (I've not been on Ao3 as much as I'd like to recently, and because I opened it to scoop out the stats for some of the questions above I can now see that I have some unreads... and the need is happening.)

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Hmmm *thinking really hard*, I don't think any of them have an ending that is all that angsty. If I had to choose, maybe Temptation?

The pattern I've shown so far in my posted works is that it's gonna be 90% fluff. Though that is liable to change. 😆

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Probably Nursery?

I'm not sure, cause they've all ended on a pretty optimistic note so far. But that one has Kate and Anthony with a few of their kids, so it's the furthest on the Kanthony HEA timeline.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not yet...

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Ummm 👀 I may have dabbled in some smut.

What kind... hm, the kind where both people are panting for each other, and end up caving because they literally can't hold their horniness in anymore (this totally explains why I went feral for Bridgerton S2, ha). Another pattern I seem to have is making Anthony a submissive man puddle.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Not yet, but I do have some crack ideas I may explore.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of, I very much doubt it.

How often does this happen to people?

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No. I'd certainly be all for it if anyone ever wanted to translate any works of mine. 😊

If I was proficient enough to write in other languages, then I would probably try publishing the different versions from the get go.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Kinda?

Nothing formal, but there was a lengthy comment thread on Reddit some months ago where myself and another user went back and forth re-writing the script for that stormy library scene 😅 (not so much re-writing what was already there, bar the last few lines, more of a continuation in a universe where Kate hadn't fled).

14. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

Must I even answer this? Kanthony, c'mon now.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

There's only 1 work that I have, where I've actually started a chapter 2. And I have all the faith that I will finish it. ✍️🤓

Other potential WIPs, that are currently just posted as one shots, only exist in my head... who knows if they will see the light of day.

16. What are your writing strengths?

This question feels illegal to be asked.

I have no idea, I'm very new to this whole writing thing. At least in terms of fiction, so I'm not sure what I'd consider my strengths to be. I feel like I need some more practice before I can get a real sense of this?

I would say that dialogue usually comes very quickly to me, and it's having to fill in the bits around it that takes more brain muscles. So that might indicate something.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Everything apart from the answer to the question above.

But really I think it's remembering that there is a world outside of the main couple happening, and trying to describe the details there. Also other general 'setting the scene' stuff like clothing, weather etc etc. I usually just want to jump straight in with some random dialogue.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

On writing it... no thoughts; not done it yet!

If I needed to for some unknown fic reason in the future, I'm sure I'll be apologising profusely in the author notes for trusting Google translate and probably butchering whatever language it is.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Still just the one so far, Bridgerton. 😌

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

Hunt 🥺🥹 I was a lot of feels, and just very indulgent tbh.

I also really enjoyed my shortest one, Obedient, which was in 2nd person (hadn't done that before). The writing of that one was just really fun and I idky but I've reread it quite a bit!

__________________________________________________

I'm woefully looking at my Ao3 bookmarks (which has grown exponentially since joining Tumblr), full of things that I've not got round to reading yet. So I'm tagging partly based on stuff hanging out on top of that pile: @islemeadow, @ladykettlechips, @hydriotaphia, @eleanor-bradstreet, and the smut aunties @colettebronte & @fayes-fics 😋 (if y'all wanna do it, ofc. I tried to find those who hadn't been tagged/done it yet, sorry if you've actually already done this and I've just not found it).

[verycharismaticdragon]

Hey what if I did, like, a lets play of On Air Island but! an interactive one where we collectively choose the next option (via a poll) would anyone play with me

Um yeah to expound on that thought

What's On Air Island?

On Air Island is a game I'm currently brainrotting about.

The genre is stated as horror/thriller but even if you're not a fan of these genres id say still check it out because im not a fan either and Yet

This is perhaps because the game has a strong mystery element and encourages multiple replays/going back to try out different options (theres a really comfortable to use mechanic for that too!) so theres this drive to uncover more of the story. Which is why I'm still playing despite having finished all 40 endings already (yes, thats forty endings)

Quick plot blurb: the plot follows the cast and crew of a survival show called 'Never Stop Watching!' set up on a remote island. The show's unique setting is that every cast member streams their experience, and the winner is determined by the number of donations they receive on their stream. However, the island is not as simple as it appears, and soon enough the rankings will be the least of the cast's problems! (Que horror/thriller elements)

Why interactive Let's Play?

The thing I found the most refreshing about OAI is that you, the player, do not play as the protagonist, but rather as one of the viewers on the protagonist's stream. When the absence of 'i would not fucking say/do that' experience hits lol. Because of such setting, aside from the main cast, the presence of Observers - the fellow viewers - is strongly felt throughout the story as well. EzraHanse girlies in the chat you will always be famous. And... sometimes other Observers have completely different ideas about what's good for blorbo from your streams!

Then, since I run a poll aggregator blog and see like hundreds of polls a day, the vision of in-game choices and tumblr polls overlapped in my brain...

...and I thought, hey, wouldn't it be extremely atmospheric and true to in-game experience to have a bunch of people chipping in to determine the advice and tasks the protagonist receives from his viewers? Thus, the idea of doing an interactive lets play was born.

What are the pros of participating in the Let's Play, instead of just playing the game?

Well, first of all, this is absolutely my dastardly plan to make y'all play the game, make no mistake!

That said, if you aren't sure you are interested in playing it, you can experience the story in bite-sized chunks (i just vidded the prologue up to the first choice, and its less than 2 minutes!) on a semi-daily basis, with a little dopamine hit of clickin' the button at the end <3

Another thing is that making 'a donation' - ie, a choice in game - requires in-game currency. There are various ways to farm currency and there are almost always cheaper choices available, however! Since I already played and replayed multiple times, I have many choices unlocked, and it'll be easy for me to farm for the remaining ones. Especially now that I got all the endings and the desire to find the best one no longer plagues me so. So - you can experience the game while avoiding the grind!

And, ofc, as I've mentioned before, having many viewers/Observers would be very true to the atmosphere of the game. Ideally, I would hope for some discussion in the comments too, to parallel the in-game chat! This is also why I hope people who already played the game will participate too 👉👈 The more Observers we have the better, right? ;3

What if I don't vibe with watching videos / miss something / etc?

I'm planning to have a transcript available for each video, and something like a story-so-far post that you can check out to get up to date at any point. I also figure I'll be adjusting the format along the way, if we can get this party started at all, so feel free to suggest improvements to me at any time!

[cagedchoices]

GET TO KNOW THE AUTHOR.

name:  mel 

pronouns:  they/them/theirs

preference of communication:  mainly tumblr IMs these days, but i have discord and wire and occasionally i will drop my info on tumblr, give it out privately if asked, or add if someone else is looking to add. it can take me a while to work up the courage to message someone in the first place and i'm really... not good at the usual social cues of "hey how are you/good how are you?/what have you been up to?" but i'm usually game to chat about other stuff

most active muse:  Caleb. i've had a lot of other muses but he's been the one i've been most consistently able to write in the slightly over 3 years since i first started writing him.

experience/how many years:  i had a couple false starts trying to set up rp blogs for Samwise Gamgee from the Lord of the Rings trilogy and Wirt from Over the Garden Wall back in 2014 and 2015? but i just never really managed to get off the ground and start writing in-character for them because i was super heavily intimidated by the rpc and too nervous to approach anyone. finally in january 2017 i stumbled across a parody of Portal 2 on youtube called the Unauthorized Musical and discovered that there were already a handful of muns on tumblr who had picked up characters specifically based on that production and regularly hosted rabbit streams where they'd watch the video again together and welcomed anyone who wanted to join to do so. i noticed nobody was really writing any antagonistic characters against them so i wound up setting up a blog for GLaDOS and following everybody i met during the stream and that was essentially how i became hooked on tumblr rp. i've been kicking around on and off for about 7 years now.

best experience: there's so many to choose from, but i think i'd have to say my best experience was when i started writing Caleb. i was just fresh off watching Westworld season 3, i was actually feeling more compelled at the time to try and write either Dolores, Maeve, Clementine or Teddy but i felt like i wouldn't do any of 'em justice. i ended up making a sideblog to my old multimuse after deciding i would try writing Caleb, and that's where i almost immediately connected with melody/aworldofyou/copiesofme and was enthusiastically introduced to a bunch of other muns residing in the tiny but mighty westworld rpc. 🥰

rp pet peeves: one is pretty much the same as Sandra said; making a new main blog in the spur of the moment. exhausting all energy on curating a distinct aesthetic for icons/banners/promos/custom themes/etc, and then completely losing interest in a week or 2 without ever getting to write that character. and then more often than not the process gets repeated down the line until that person either becomes overwhelmed from having too many blogs to manage or too many memes to answer or too many starters to write.

i also don't particularly love memes that promote making rp into a popularity contest or seeking an almost constant stream of validation from other people. things like "send a _ and i'll rate your blog on a scale of 1 to 10/using a scale template" i try to stay far away from. arguably every notification you get on tumblr is an instant dopamine hit just like all social media is but. idk there was just something about those blog rating/character rating memes that made them feel more addictive to send and receive than like, taking the time to give someone your honest opinion on how you feel about them as a person or on their writing and characters and such.

another similar thing is reblog chains to the effect of 'reblog this if you actually like following me/seeing me on the dash.' i really don't like these. there's a level of self-deprecation and guilt-tripping involved and when people already feel awfully low and vulnerable to negative self image this just makes it worse. especially when people post with side commentary like 'oh nobody will reblog this from me lol.' and i don't think they're always necessarily aware that this is manipulative behavior, but...it is. even just the way the source post is typically phrased, it preys on insecurity and it makes me sad when i do see mutuals reblogging posts written like this because then i'm like. just sitting there thinking "i'm not a spambot so...if i didn't like following you or seeing you on my dash i would not be following you??"

other forms of reblog chains like 'reblog to give the person you're reblogging from a hug' or 'reblog this and say something nice about the person you reblogged from' are far better in my opinion because they don't inherently contain that same level of insecurity. they put the focus on lifting up and supporting the person you're reblogging from instead of centering on yourself.

plots or memes: i like both but i am very much a memes person because i feel like i'm not very good at plotting.

long or short replies: i don't really have a preference! but lately my thing generally seems to be letting the length creep up so my replies just get longer and longer over time. i never expect anyone to match me, but like. the one thing that would crush my soul is me posting like. 5-7 paragraphs and getting back a one sentence or one word response 😭

are you like your muses: i have a few things in common with caleb, one of them being that we're both neurodivergent and just trying to exist in a society where it is typically seen as undesirable to be classed as such. i stumbled across a venn diagram a while back comparing and contrasting common traits associated with ptsd and autism and it has given me a lot to take into consideration in the way that i portray caleb

tagged by: @k4ndall

tagging: @gunslingcr @paddyfuck @weirdwonderful @killjoysanonymous @prettydead & you (not labeled)

[sweetswesf]

"I just need benjamins, I don't need NOOOOO friends!"...Check In

I don't really mean that. When I feel lonely, I think about that rap lyric by the masterful poet Roddy Ricch, but, I don't truly feel that way. I do need a community around me, but when I look at the friends I have lost, I toxicly just try to focus on what I have, the friends & family I have, and all God's blessed me with.

What I Did Today

Meal prepped

Exercised

Grocery shopped

FREAKIN' 2 HOURS of dishes! *face palm*

Panicked a little bit after receiving my severance payment, but reminded myself that I'm going to find something I want in a timely manner and not completely run my savings down to 0 like I worry sometime

Wished my grandmother a happy birthday

Told my father not to send me pictures of he, my grandparents, and my little brother at the casino today because it triggered me given the lack of relationship and a lot of hurt that is still there...I'm by myself for yet another year on Thanksgiving for crying out loud...

Was vulnerable about how I felt about the latest text exchanges with my pastor who gave me bad, unsolicited advice on what I SHOULD have done...immediately regretted it opening up and reminded myself to just shut up sometime and stop hoping for people to handle you and your feelings the way you want them to

Had a little cry after receiving a less than pleasant text from my Dad...it was followed by an absolutely encouraging text from a friend

Fantasized about moving out of the country...maybe back to Italy

Pushed myself to cook for myself

Pushed myself to finish an AlgoExpert video on Logarithm

What I Learned Today

I thought about what would happen if I needed to move back; my little brother has PROBABLY graduated, so I would not have a room anywhere if I moved back, and I don't know too many places right now wanting to rent to someone without a job so, I'll stay put...rent MAY go up for me soon...don't know how much...don't want to think about that right now :)

log base 2 is the assumed base in computer science, not 10 as in regular mathematics, and an algo w/O(log(n)) runtime is good because as the input increases, the amount of operations does not increase nearly at the same rate

Feeling

Spent

A little bit shameful/embarrassed

Takeaways

Going to only juice on Saturday or Sunday going forward and for as ½ as much as I usually do to save money & time

My mind wanders a lot, and when it does, and I get anxious, I go to social media for a dopamine boost

How I Got Myself Out of a Rut Today

Just reminding myself that I have so much, it could be worse, how it's going to get so much better for me, and about how strong I am going to become

Found a chili oil I can add to EVERYTHING

A super soft & cold persimmon

The following songs helped:

Fought tears listening to this one

Then let them fall for this song...this song NEVER fails to make me cry...rediscovered it on Mother's Day, and ever since, it's just been a hard song for me to get through, but it hits me where I need it to

Goals Completed

Found a therapist

Stopped listening to people worried about their own circumstances and remembering God works on his own time and that I am in no rush...

Got back on the ball

Being kinder to myself and stopping guilting myself if my energy isn't always on 100%

Goals After Today

Strengthen my relationship with God

Understand the main concepts I need to from Interview Cake, AlgoExpert, etc. in 6 months, NOT less than 3

Drop my body fat percentage to Marion Jones, Michaela Cole, or Jade Cargill levels

Consistently fight urge to fill up my time with social media/YouTube

Fully forgive my family & build a great relationship with them

Be more confident & faithful

250 steps/hour & 10k steps/daily consistently

Drink more than 64oz a day consistently

Go on a date with a guy I actually like who actually likes me too

[ruminate88]

High Stress Cortisol??

08/16/24

Aside from the dopamine hits, the stress my ex Andrew brought me was frustrating and hurtful… All I wanted was to spend time. I felt I loved him so much but he was bread crumbing me and yet he loved the attention I gave him too. College was his main focus and excuse every time he ignored me…

Whenever he couldn’t spend time with me it was, “Oh I have to study.”, “Oh I have a meeting”, “oh im mentoring freshman at the library.” Or he was at the frat house and claimed how stressed out and tired he was… I noticed he partied A LOT. He would send me selfies from the frat house but yet he was always sitting by himself…. Weird. He never included any of his bros or his lil bro. 😝

and I just felt like he kept me soooo secretive!! It was hurtful cuz I was trying to incorporate him into my life. I tried so hard!!

When it was time for him to take his finals, WOW. He was a monster 🤪 All he talked about was “I’m gonna fail” and “I have to study or I’m gonna fail.” I would say the most encouraging things I could think to say to this man and he would not receive it and make me feel like becuase I wasn’t in college, that I did not understand him….

Also, I would be trying to send him loving messages and spend time but he would cry, “I have to focus!!” SOOOOO, I would get upset and disappointed and say to him, “If you’re too stressed, I don’t wanna cause you more stress. We can take a break and you can focus on your finals.” I OFFERED HIM SPACE despite my disappointment and frustration and he would cry, “You’re making it worse!!!” Wow…. I told him, “I’m trying so hard to help you!!” Ugh 😣

NOTHING helped that man. He was purposely making feel bad. He was purposely saying hurtful things and he wanted to upset me but wanted the attention.

WAS he really upset cuz he was afraid to fail his exams or was he upset cuz he’s got a new girl and hes hiding me from her?? Idk…. But he would get defensive that he didn’t wanna breakup and promise me he was just stressed about his finals and homework. Okay but, I would offer him space and he would say, “It’s ok… you can text me I’m just really busy.”

He was always busy 😭😭😭 and I told him over and over AND OVER he’s too busy for our relationship that he should just focus on school. I meant that out of true love for him. Even though I didn’t wanna break up, I didn’t wanna be selfish but that man is VERY selfish. The way he held me hostage in that relationship!!

Even when I found proof that he cheated on me and confronted him, he denied it, blames me for “catfishing him” and STILL makes excuses not to break up. Talks circles around me…. The day we were on the phone for 3 hours straight trying to break up but he won’t and my stomach was shaking and I was on the verge of a breakdown. I KNEW he didn’t love me but I was so confused why he would not end it with me 😭😭😭😭 he even asked for more time to think it all over 💔💔💔

Ultimately I had to end it with him but he had NO EMOTIONAL RESPONSE!! 😞😞😞 It literally felt like even though I said “it’s over” he was the one who made it real. He asked me to still be friends with him 🥴🥴 I said okay but I was stunned at his lack of emotion. It SUCKED for me and made NO SENSE at the time. (I understand more now) He ultimately stopped responding to my text and I spent the rest of the night locked in my bathroom with my fan on, crying and shaking so hard!!!!!! That boy shattered my heart.

Gosh the way he kept gaslighting me and making me crushed. I wanted him!!! I wanted to love him so wholeheartedly but it just wasn’t possible with him ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹 sad but it’s life. I’ve been accepting that every day since I blocked his number. 😭😭😭💔❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹 one day at a time I’m getting over him and healing the wounds. It’s been a long and difficult journey but I do see light at the end of this ❤️‍🩹 I still care about what happens to him but I’ll never trust him again and I know I can’t ever let him back in cuz he’ll only continue to crush me. 😭❤️‍🩹

[ashekirk]

Apparently I write fan fiction now

Ok so I've had a really weird couple of weeks.

One night, I had a dream about a TV show I'd seen exactly one episode of in its entirety. A show that I literally haven't seen anyone talk about in forever.

That show? Sliders (1995)

I woke up from that dream with the need to watch the show, so I did.

It's a mediocre show, really. Even at its best, it's hamfisted and full of plot holes, and the first season or two loves to idolise 1990s USA in a way that comes across as painful to my modern leftist sensibilities.

But despite that, I grew attached to the characters, and then I had to watch each one of them leave the show in increasingly infuriating ways.

By the end, I just wanted to give the characters a better ending. So that's what I'm now doing.

I'm not normally one to read or write fan fiction, so this is highly unusual for me and I have no idea if anyone will even care about this since the show is pretty obscure these days.

I just spent the past 4 days writing fan scripts of an imagined season 6 set in the present day. I've already churned out 3 scripts in that time and also made a rudimentary reader from html, css, and javascript to improve accessibility.

I ended up doing this because fanfiction.net doesn't allow scripts, and my new AO3 account is in some kind of queue until next month, so that's great.

Anyway, you can see the scripts on my website... take 'em or leave 'em. I had to get them out either way lol.

Hit the jump for descriptions of the 3 scripts I've done so far:

"Season 6 in the 2020s" Series

Conjoined Quinns, Part I

Episode 1 | 7464 Words

Over twenty years have passed since the events of Season 5. Mallory and Maggie are married with a child. But Mallory's not well - no matter how much sleep he gets, he is still always exhausted to the point of waking hallucination.

Meanwhile, in another world, a new sliding machine is being built by a familiar face.

Read Script

Conjoined Quinns, Part II

Episode 2 | 6652 Words

The gang attend a fateful concert. Mallory learns to adjust to his new arrangement. Cole really wants to scan some brains.

With old friends being reunited, it seems like things are all falling into place at once. But who could have expected who shows up next?

Read Script

Identical Quinns

Episode 3 | 6266 Words

Unexpected visitors create new hope for Quinn. Rembrandt goes out for a steak dinner with Diana. Cole gets to scan more brains.

The basement gets a visitor. Love rekindles. A ghostly apparition may hold answers to the mystery of the group's recent string of unlikely events.

Read Script

Future Scripts:

I've got several ideas for the continuation of this series. Here are some working titles which will give you a clue to the kind of story it will be:

Mandela Effect

Quarantine

Gender Police

Quinntuplets

Oops! All Quinns

Quinnpocalypse

Bear in mind that my ability to keep working on these scripts is directly related to my ability to receive dopamine from doing it, and that could change at literally any moment. Thanks ADHD!

[slightlyrebelliouswriter23]

hey so i'm hoping to get some writing advice about creative burnout? like i seem to write in fits and spurts. some months i can churn out a oneshot or chapter everyday and some months i can do one (1) creative thing only. so i'm wondering how to prevent creative burnout and how to just create more smoothly <3 thank you!

Creative Burnout & How To Ward Against It

First, I’d like to preface this all by saying you’re definitely not alone. You probably already know this, but sometimes it’s nice to be reminded.

I know from personal experience that creative burnout can leave you feeling hopeless, detached from yourself—the kind of identity crisis no one needs in 2020. 

So buckle in, folks. It’s a dosy.

I. The Symptoms

Not to be the local WebMD page here, but signs of burnout can include:

Procrastination (more than usual)

Dreading writing and feeling stuck or overly perfectionistic when you try

Physical tiredness and/or irritability

Feeling like everything is monotonous

It’s more than just writer’s block. It’s a physical and emotional exhaustion response to something that goes deeper than a simple lack of inspiration. In my experience, and from a bit of research, I’ve found that what your brain is really looking for is dopamine.

Dopamine is essentially your brain’s chemical reward system for doing something interesting or exciting to you. As someone who is diagnosed with ADHD, I have chronically low levels of dopamine, so this is a constant struggle for me—but it is absolutely made worse by creative burnout.

II. The Problem

Studies have shown that the more we do A Thing the less that thing will give us dopamine (unless a component of the activity changes regularly). This is because eventually our brains desensitise to the stimuli provided by the activity, and subsequently, we become disengaged.

But it’s not necessarily The Thing (i.e. writing) that becomes boring. Actually, more than a few factors could be at play here, and the first step to finding a solution is to identify the problem.

1. ENVIRONMENT LACKS EXCITEMENT/CHANGE—

Sometimes, the monotony of everyday life can feed creative burnout. This becomes especially applicable in quarantine when you’re not leaving your house.

What we don’t realise is that even something as small as the variables of driving to and from work, or interacting with passing coworkers, gives us dopamine. So if you have the same routine every day that does not involve any added variables, your brain will begin staunching that dopamine supply.

2. EITHER TOO EASY OR TOO CHALLENGING—

In 1975, Hungarian-American psychologist, Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, coined the term “flow”, which refers to a heightened state of creativity and concentration on an activity. Csikszentmihalyi posited that if your skill level is equal to the level of challenge in any given activity, you will experience this state of flow.

The chart below is taken from Csikszentmihalyi’s own study on the subject of flow and motivation. It examines “your skill level” on the x axis in relation to the “challenge level” on the y axis.

Essentially:

Too much challenge + not enough skill = anxiety, worry (which might lead to procrastination and perfectionism)

Too much skill + not enough challenge = boredom, apathy (which might lead to monotony, irritability, and other depression-like symptoms)

Skill level = Challenge level = Flow

3. NOT ENOUGH “ACTIVE” STIMULATION—

When it comes to dopamine seeking, there is a distinct difference between active and passive stimulation in the brain.

Active stimulation is any form of activity that you have to actively engage in. For instance; exercising, doing a crossword puzzle, or reading a book. These kinds of activities not only give you dopamine, they also facilitate critical thinking and problem solving thought processes, which act as catalysts for creativity.

Passive stimulation, on the other hand, comes in the form of television, social media, and YouTube. It’s anything you can consume without having to actively engage. Passive stimulation will indeed give your brain dopamine, however, it won’t activate your creativity.

The problem also lies in the speed at which you receive the dopamine from passive activities. Passive stimulation is so easy to access that the more you consume, the harder it becomes to pick up active stimulation. Your brain expects a hit of dopamine just by picking up a phone or turning on the TV—it becomes addicted to the quick fix of a Netflix binge.

III. The Solutions

Based on the problems mentioned above, I am going to list a few solutions. Keeping in mind that not every solution will work for everyone, these can act as both preventative measures and remedies for someone who is currently burned out.

1. CHANGE UP YOUR ENVIRONMENT/ROUTINE—

Aim to do at least one thing per day that will add “variables” to the monotony. This can be as simple as going on a long walk, dressing up in that bold outfit you always wanted to wear to the office but never did, or sitting at a different workspace in your home.

Anything you can do that’s simple, but might provide an extra variable to your day to spice things up. Note: this shouldn’t be the same thing every day.

2. CHALLENGE YOURSELF MORE—

If you find yourself bored by your work, try challenging yourself more. This could mean setting goals for yourself that go a bit beyond what you’ve been doing. 

For example, if you’ve been writing 500 words per day, see if you can beat your own word count every day for the next week. If you’ve been writing mainly fluff pieces, switch it up and do an angst piece. See if you can write a book in a month, or start a blog where you don’t write fiction at all!

Anything you can do to add a little kick to your workload. Note: Beware of challenging yourself too much! This can lead straight back into burnout.

3. CHALLENGE YOURSELF LESS—

If you’re on the flip side of that coin, and find that you are anxious, procrastinating, and perfectionistic when it comes to writing, fret not. Just because you’re experiencing any of these things, doesn’t mean you’re incapable of doing the job with your skillset.

It just means your perception of the job needs to be shifted.

Procrastination, at its heart, is a fear of failure, which results in actively avoiding the negative emotions associated with the task that causes this fear. Perfectionism is a type of procrastination that is a combination of a fear of failure and a fear of success (or, more accurately, other’s critiques of your success) all at once.

Neither have anything to do with your actual skillset, but they have everything to do with your perception of your skillset. Obviously, this is a harder thing to fix, as it has to do with deeply ingrained levels of self-esteem.

What I can offer you is a tactic to trick your mind into thinking you’re capable.

If you have a task, big or small, and you are feeling overwhelmed by it (like you might go curl up in bed and scroll Tumblr), immediately break that task up into smaller tasks. Keep breaking up the smaller tasks until you have the smallest possible part of the bigger task without doing nothing.

Then do that smallest possible thing.

If your goal is to write a 2000 word one shot, a small part of that task is writing half of it. An even smaller part of that task is breaking the one shot up into “scenes” and writing one scene. For instance:

Jude wakes up to a sore throat, a runny nose, and a fever.

She tries to go to work, but Cardan, being the mother hen that he is, threatens to never make her another grilled cheese sandwich (her favourite food) ever again if she doesn’t stay home.

Jude agrees begrudgingly, and Cardan sits her down in front of the TV with a bottle of Gatorade. He leaves to go get medicine from the store.

When Cardan comes back, Jude is worse than before. He makes her soup and saltine crackers and spoon feeds her.

She complains the whole time and, in her feverish state, threatens to never buy him another bottle of wine (his favourite food) ever again if he doesn’t let her feed herself.

Each bullet point represents one “scene” of about 200-400 words each. Obviously, there will be more details that you work out as you write. But with these five smaller scenes, your goal is no longer writing the 2000 word one shot. Your goal is writing the first of the five scenes.

If you complete the smallest possible task, you can stop, and you’ll still feel like you’ve accomplished something because you can cross off that task from your list. But chances are, by the time you cross off one task, you may have inspiration enough to keep going.

4. ENGAGE IN ACTIVE STIMULATION—

Since active stimulation has been proven to turn on the creative “tap”, try incorporating more of these activities into your daily routine:

Exercise: As the resident couch potato, I hate to say that exercising is good for creativity, but it is. Even if it’s just going on a short walk, so long as you’re moving.

Reading: Sometimes you have plenty of ideas, but no words to fit those ideas. Fill your well of words by carving out an hour or two each day for reading a good book.

The Creative Process: In the writing world, the creative process is a process of about 20-30 minutes that the writer partakes in every day before they start writing. This process should be creative, but also have nothing to do with writing. You can try colouring in a colouring book, painting, organising a page in your bullet journal. Anything that is creative but does not make you think about everything you have to do that day. Think of it as creative meditation.

Listen to music: Having APD, I personally can’t listen to music while I write. However, studies have shown that if you listen to at least ten songs per day, it will significantly benefit your dopamine levels and overall mood. If you’re like me and prefer to work in silence, maybe stick on a couple songs during your creative process. If you can manage music and writing together, get out those headphones!

5. KEEP A REGULAR SCHEDULE—

I know this is the most cliche point in the book, but it’s valid. This doesn’t mean do the same thing at the same time every day over and over, because ultimately we’re looking to avoid monotony. 

But having pillars of structure to bolster the excitement can definitely work to keep you from slipping into burnout. Going to sleep, waking up, and having your meals at relatively the same time every day are good examples of this. 

Feel free to change up the things you do between breakfast and lunch, but make sure you have those pillars of consistency so your brain knows that a break is on the horizon and doesn’t get tired.

6. PACE YOURSELF—

This is particularly difficult for those of us who are coming out of a creative burnout, but I urge you to pay special attention to this one. If we are suddenly hit by inspiration and the writing is flowing and flowing and flowing, eventually we will hit the point of highest dopamine capacity for writing.

Not putting a check on the flood of inspiration coming out of a creative burnout, I’d argue, is actually a guarantee that many of us will experience burnout all over again. It becomes this vicious cycle in which we are trapped.

While it feels great to write non-stop and receive immediate validation for that work, try to limit yourself to how much you’re writing and how immediately you post your writing (if you plan on posting it).

Whenever I finish a one shot or a chapter of something, I like to allow at least one day for editing before I post. This timeframe is important, because it acts as a buffer of rest between writing marathons. 

You can take however long you need for the editing process, but definitely make sure you have a set amount of time in place. Otherwise, your brain might not have enough time to come down from what is essentially a writing high, and you will always need to reach greater heights in order to achieve that same level of dopamine.

~~~~

Overall, the most important things to take away from all of this are: 

Change up your environment

Keep your brain actively stimulated 

Have pillars of structure between which you can run about chaotically to your heart’s content

PACE YOURSELF!

Hope this helped. Happy writing!

-Em 🖤🗡

Writing Tip Masterlist

Fic Masterlist

Celebrate 2K with me!

[sasamelons]

AO3 Tag Game

Ooh this looks like fun! Thanks for tagging me @miss-ingno!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

I have 34 in total - 33 fics and 1 podfic!

2. What is your total AO3 word count?

197,287

3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

In order of most to least fics:

- Sherlock (14), which was my main fandom before my 5-year hiatus from fandom

- MDZS/CQL (9), the fandom I was in for the past year. I haven't written anything for it for a while, but might still pop in once in a while

- Guardian (4), which I'm currently writing for

- X-Men (4)

- Hannibal (1)

- Psycho-Pass (1)

- Inception (1)

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1. the river and the sea — MDZS, CQL (wangxian, soulmates and arranged marriage au) by a LONG shot. This one still blows my mind. I remember, in particular the first few days after posting, watching the numbers blow up and going, WHAT IS HAPPENING??

2. the heart of a bear — MDZS, CQL (teenaged wangxian time travels to the future and find themselves married, modern cultivation au)

3. homeward — MDZS, CQL (wangxian, modern cultivation road trip fic)

4. don't leave me here alone — XMFC (cherik, soulmates au) (my love for soulmate fics is starting to show haha)

5. Arthur Eames — Inception — this one is a bit of a surprise, given it's so short

5. Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Yes! I really appreciate it when people write me comments, so I always respond because I want to tell them that. I also love it when an author replies to my comments on their fics (I get as much of a dopamine hit from seeing a notification for that as from getting a comment on one of my fics!) so I try to do the same. I've also been lucky enough to strike up friendships through comment exchanges.

6. What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

AHAHAHA six-years-ago Sasa wrote a lot of angst, so let's see... I would say A Study in Sentiment (Sherlock) wins this competition, but honorary mention goes to Precession of the Equinoxes (also Sherlock).

7. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've ever written?

I don't really write crossovers, but I do like fusions a lot. I think the wonkiest is Beyond, which is a Sherlock fusion with The Giver (Lois Lowry). I've also got my Guardian Sailor Moon fusion and a remix of a XMFC HIMYM fusion.

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

I've been really lucky not to!

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I haven't yet. Partly this is my ace-ness showing through. There is at least one fic where I had meant to try writing smut and then just...forgot about it lmao. I might still attempt it someday, if a fic calls for it, but I don't think I'll ever write PWP.

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge!

11. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I haven't, but I think that would be interesting to try! I co-wrote an original story with a friend in high school and that was fun. So if any of you are interested in co-writing, let me know! ;)

12. What's your all time favourite ship?

This is such a hard question to answer because I'm usually only in one fandom at a time so it obviously changes! Right now it's of course Weilan — and I think it will be for a good while. I think it might actually become a ship I'll come back to every once in a while, the way that I find myself circling back to binge reading MamoUsa (Sailor Moon) fics every few years because it's such a comfort ship.

13. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Inuyasha as a tween/early teen, which was on an old FFN account which now I actually regret deleting. I don't have any copies of those fics now. I wonder if my aunt still has the old desktop I wrote those on...

14. What's your favourite fic you've written?

Also a hard question! I'm pretty proud of most of my fics, and I like them for different reasons. If I had to choose, I would probably say the place hidden amidst clouds (CQL, MDZS), which has a lot of personal meaning to me as it encapsulates a lot of my feelings and experiences of being an immigrant. I also think it's my best piece of writing.

Honorary mention goes to to dash against darkness (Sherlock). I wrote it when I was at a really low point in my life and was looking for comfort, and I know it provided that comfort to at least one other person. If I were to choose to have written only one thing in my life, it would probably be this.

Thanks if you read through all that rambling!

Now I'm tagging @elenothar @clevermanka @dragongirlg-fics @la-muerta @ishipallthings, if you want to do it!

[onlyhereforangst]

2020 IN WRITING

tagged by @indestinatus 💕

tagging whoever wants to go thru this journey with me & see their accomplishments in this terrible terrible year!

1. List of works published this year:

Oh god there’s a lot, like 70 total in just 2020. I’ll try to categorize them so this doesn’t get too long 😅but here’s a cut for aesthetic on your dash.

Sequels/Partner Fics: Risk It All (for @hellokaelyn), Finally Home (to Come Back), They Always Do & Could She?, Lucky Day & Completely Yours, Fiery Trance (Two Can Play series), Obsessed (Particular Taste), Soul (to Ignited)

Smut: My Turn (sequel to My Pleasure), Worth It, Maybe We Should, Make it a Double (also a fic request), Shall We (AU)

Fic Requests: Coffee Run, Hold Still, Typical, Deal, Needed It, I’m Home, For Science, Cry Me A River, From Your Dreams (AU), Crystal Clear, Tempt Me, Your Fault, Prove It, Silent Proclamation, A Hundred Suns (angst smut), Duly Noted

Stand Alones: No More, Never Let Her Go, Life is Fragile, Pandemics & Peach Drinks, To Need and Be Needed, Never Let Go, Coming Home, Priceless, Behind The Mask, Need a Hand?

Angst: My Daisy, Status Quo, Can I Stay, I Refuse, Deal

Series/Multi-chaptered: Back Off (Better Apart, Missed The Mark, Change Her Mind, But You Do, Layered Love), Electrified (Don’t Stop (Senorita)), Here By Faith, Forgive & Forget, Angstober ‘20 (Never Has & Never Will, Only In My Head, Long, Long Gone, Do Something, Take Care, Waiting to Burn, Survive the Hell, Find Her, Never Ended Well, At All Costs, One Thing Right, Stay Away, Echoed Back, Smart Man, Not Interested, Flake Again, Release, Slipping Away)

2. Work you are most proud of (and why):

Here By Faith mainly because of the topic. Pregnancy & Infant loss has been such a taboo topic for so long and something I have personal experience with so writing this was very therapeutic. 

3. Work you are least proud of (and why):

Shall We and only because I truly wanted way more plot in this and it turned out to be essentially just straight smut with a tiny bit of plot. But it is what it is 🤷🏻‍♀️

4. A favorite excerpt of your writing:

Ok I had 70 fics to choose from not breaking down chapters so I’m sure I’m missing something, BUT I do love - omg typing this out I realized it’s from a fic in 2019 so I can’t use iiiiiit 😩 ok so here’s a couple excerpts. I loved typing out this stream of conscious partner fics (They Always Do & Could She?):

They Always Do:

Yet this time, this time she didn’t have the chance to rebuild. Like a Trojan horse, he waltzed right up to her and slowly dismantled her defense. Joke by joke, smirk by smirk—Nick took each brick down with care. The worst part? It was so subtle, so thoughtfully done, she didn’t even notice it was happening. Didn’t see her chest being pried open, beating heart on display for him to see, and take. Never realized her greatest defenses were missing until it was too late.

That love- precious, fragile, delicate love- had managed to grow again. In her desolate, cold heart, Nick managed to bring to life an emotion she had long given up on. An emotion she was too afraid to ever feel again. Because with it came agony.

They leave, and you’re abandoned- picking up the pieces of a shattered heart.

When you love, you lose. Always.

Could She?:

But-

Even if that was love, even if he loved Ellie with his whole heart, his entire being. Was that enough? Was Nick enough? Was he deserving?

A resounding no clanged around his skull like a church bell in a Southern town on Sunday morning. He wanted to silence it, stop the shrill metal sound that started any time he pictured forever. Any time he truly thought he might deserve to love, even after all he’d done. After all the unimaginable things he’d done, the horrors he’d seen, the pain he’d caused. That bell sounded, loud and clear.

How did he deserve love when he couldn’t bear to love himself?

[...]

Could she love him despite all his misgivings? Could she love him even when he didn’t love himself? Could she love him when there was a risk he’d be taken from her too soon?

Could she?

Please love me.

But please be sure.

There’s been a couple of other inner monologues that I have absolutely loved (I like to think it’s semi my speciality? But maybe that’s super arrogant of myself?) but that’s a different post for another time.

5. Share or describe a favorite review you received:

I said it recently but I *love* when people pick out specific line(s) from my fic and choose to comment on those. More often than not it’s a line I was so proud of either prose-wise or foreshadowing-wise or whatever and I get literally giddy with excitement that someone not only noticed it but also loved it enough to comment on it 🥰but truly any kind of comment is dopamine-inducing 😉

6. A time when writing was really, really hard:

As some people may have noticed (& maybe not because I did still semi-run the other main ellick blog despite it) I was somewhat absent for most of the summer/fall. I struggled for the first time in my life with mental health issues, borderline depression after being in a shit work environment, an essential worker with a company that claimed to “care” about us, a community that I once loved but showed their true colors in the midst of the pandemic & election, add in a rough pregnancy & it was a recipe for disaster. I didn’t want to even move from the couch most days let alone write. 

7. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you:

I had a lot of fun writing short excerpts from different characters’ perspectives (Jimmy, Kasie, McGee & Gibbs) in my Angstober series & honestly wouldn’t mind doing that again!

8. How did you grow as a writer this year:

Honestly not sure, I think I’ve just generally grown as a writer - better descriptions & descriptors, better dialogue, better plots. But that could all be me seeing things 😂

9. How do you hope to grow next year:

I’d love to look into writing more seriously. My husband is convinced I could write an episode script or a novel, so I may look into trying my hand at that (even though I feel I’d be god-awful at it 😅)

10. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc):

Hmmmm I always appreciate the support I’ve gotten from the ellick fandom despite it being rough this year for us, wonderful people like @erinchristmaselvis, @thekeyboardninja, @hellokaelyn & @wanna-be-bold are always there to either hear me vent or cheer me on ☺️

11. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year:

Haaaaah yes. Lots of it (but I bet you can’t tell because I only add mini snippets so have fun finding those easter eggs 😏)

12. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers:

Always, always, always write for YOU. Not for anyone else, the kudos, hits, comments, none of it. Write for YOU. And I say this as a reminder to myself as well, it’s so hard to get bogged down in that dopamine-induced craze we search for in recognition but it’s so important to not externally validate yourself rather internally validate yourself on baby steps of growth & accomplishment. 

13. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year:

LOL how about all my WIPs? All of those stories I started forever ago that people call me out on not finishing months later when I swear they’ve forgotten about them 😬

14. If you could recommend only one work from yourself published this year:

Hmmmm lemme pick one from each category because I’m indecisive 😉

Sequel/Partner Fics: Lucky Day & Completely Yours (the aaaaangst)

Smut: a tie between Maybe We Should & Make it a Double

Fic Request: A Hundred Suns (because I love me some angst smut)

Stand Alones: Pandemics & Peach Drinks (hahahaha because this was in an Insider news article at the start of the pandemic hahaha so on brand #2020)

Angst: My Daisy (I looooooove this one, but also all of the angst category lol)

Series/Multi-chaptered: literally not one of these is finished and they’re all heavy angst so take your pick 😂

15. Year word count: 103,050 in 2020 which seems like so little 😅

Here’s to 2021 being the year I finish WIPs! she says knowing she’s lying

[tcheschirewrites]

Hey, are you participating in NaNoWriMo? Have you ever? And what was your experience like? I'm considering it but I feel so intimidated because I know I won't be able to commit to it wholeheartedly. Lowering my expectations and pacing myself would seem like the perfect solution but work kills my creative brain cells by the seconds. I wouldn't be surprised if by the end of November I've only written half of page of alien language. Any advice? Also does Nano have to be a new project?

Oh man, Nano. I’m well familiar with Nano, and I’ve participated a few times (to varying degrees of success). This got very long, so I’m putting a cut.

The first time I attempted Nano was in 2006 for my novel Seerking. I had heard about it from a friend who was in an LJRP I was in, and she encouraged me to try it. I was still in high school at the time, and very frankly I did not have the dedication necessary to complete it. I got a lot of worldbuilding complete, but very little writing. I got about two pages of prose, and three notebooks of character and setting history, as well as a fairly detailed outline. I still have all of this.

The second time I attempted was in 2009, for a story that is based heavily on the Iron&Wine song ‘Boy With a Coin’. I got a little bit further, but I got stuck in a few places. I think it’s because my idea was bigger than my life experience, and I also got stuck in a lot of small details. Additionally, my first Word document (where I got about two chapters in?) was destroyed when my laptop’s hard drive just straight gave up on life - I did buck up and rewrite quite a bit, though it didn’t sing quite the same notes, and I have this handwritten copy still. (It’s possible I tried again with this same project the year after? I don’t remember tbvh)

My third attempt was in 2011, about a goverment operative and a faun. This one I got the furthest, and I still have the original handwritten draft and the typed copy. I pantsed this one, 100%. To this day, I still don’t know how this story ends, but I’d love to attempt a rewrite someday.

Then, unfortunately, from around 2012 until Fall of last year, I stopped writing period. I was in a real bad situation, and just didn’t have the energy for anything, let alone a novel. My most recent experience with Nano as an organization was Camp Nano, which is a much looser structure, and it is in May and July. Rather than the hard and fast 50k, you set your own goal when you announce your project.

I can understand your hesitance to participate, honestly. Nano is a beast of a project – to reach the minimum goal of 50k in the 30 allotted days, you have to produce 1667 words of new content every single day. This is approximately 3 pages, maybe a little more – which is a lot when you’re already stressed! And if you miss a day you have to adjust your daily totals for every following day, and the pressure starts to mount! It’s a lot, even if it is only meant to be a neat little challenge (mostly, I’ll cover benefits a bit later).

Now, my recommendations are going to follow two paths: planning, and pantsing. If you are naturally a planner – that is, you like having rough outlines, refined outlines, you like having character data, history, etc – then I recommend you have as much of your novel planned ahead of time before November 1st hits. Whatever notes or files you need to have set aside before you begin writing those first words, have them ready – read over them, refine them, and have them memorized front to back so that you know what your story is meant to be. If you are a natural planner, and you have not done this by today’s date (it’s 30 October where I am), then I do not recommend participating this year because it will stress you the fuck out and you might even make yourself sick.

The other popular option is called pantsing – essentially, you have a rough idea, and you’re flying by the seat of your pants. (This is literally what it is called on the Nano website, by the by – there are badges for it and everything.) If you are a pantser, then I still recommend a little preparation, but of a wildly different degree and type: find your story’s ambiance. If you are a pantser, think about what sparked the idea for your story? Try to put yourself back in the place (emotionally or physically) where you had the most intense version of the idea, and hang onto that feeling with both hands. This is incredibly important, because it will allow you to harken back to that feeling without chasing the high of first being hit by that feeling. If you are a pantser, focus heavily on the feelings you want to evoke with your story, and let your heart guide you.

Now the third option (I know what I said, I lied all right) is if you are a combination planner-pantser; you don’t want to have the rigidity of the outline, but you also like having a little bit of structure, or at least a direction to go in. If you are a combination planner-pantser, I recommend doing very soft preparation for yourself in the week leading up to Nano. So things like building yourself a playlist, maybe doodle what your main looks like in your head, or small details like character names and short dossiers. If you’re able, I recommend coming up with an ending, so you know what the end-goal looks like and you are able to track your story’s completion in your head.

For all three, I would recommend deciding ahead of time how you want to write your novel – are you going to type it up in a word processor (please make so many backups, do not live the heartache that I had to)? Are you going old school and hand writing it? Are you feeling like a boss that day and maybe want to dictate it into an app on your phone? Pick one, and make a dedicated space for your novel. You can mix them up, certainly, but make sure that you are able to consolidate effectively or you’re going to stress yourself out.

Now, you asked whether or not it has to be a “new” project. There are actually a few answers to this, depending on what you mean. Now, if we are to assume that “new” strictly means a brand new, fresh idea that you have just come up with specifically for National Novel Writer’s Month 2020, then the answer is no; it does not. Back in the day, there were a few purists that insisted you had to have a designated project every year, but like most purists, they’re just being assholes about it.

As a matter of fact, it does not even have to be a brand new project that you have not written any words for at all – however, if you do have an idea that you have already written for, you are not permitted to use any of your previous word count toward your goal. This is definitely a no-no. Personally, I’ve tried this, and I found it rough – I liked having the designated project, and I liked the buildup to it.

If you have, though, an idea that you’ve worked over and you are simply ready to start putting words on a page, this, I think, is Nano’s sweet spot.

Now, I know most of this 1000+ answer has been cautioning and reminders that Nano is tough – because, well, it is. It is a huge undertaking, and I feel like every participant has their horror stories to tell about their experience. But I want to reassure you that it isn’t 100% a hard slog to a dreary end; there are so many tools that Nano themselves provide you, as well as user-run communities and workshops, and even some benefits after the fact. These are the things I want to wrap this post up with.

Firstly, no matter how tired or stressed you are, if you register for nanowrimo.org, you’ll begin receiving daily emails from published authors and past participants. These range from silly and tedious, to incredibly comforting. My favorite one, which I cannot remember a lot of specifics from, was from a man who detailed his experience and reassured everyone that the work doesn’t have to be good – it just has to be 50k words. That’s it. You can have typos and errors all over the place, plot holes of all shapes and sizes, and a main character who doesn’t make any sense at all; it doesn’t matter, because the point of the event is simply to finish. Neil Gaiman has also said a time or two that your first draft’s only purpose is to exist. Just get the words out; you can fix them later.

Additionally, when you are completing your profile, you can enter in your location and there are designated forums for participants in your area. In the past, there have been meetups for group-writes and workshops as well, though I imagine they will be more along the lines of Discord calls this year. If you are a social person who needs a pair of eyes to help you work through a scene, Nano’s got your back. They will also send you statistics for your area for the average word count, daily word count, past winners, etcetera. It can sometimes feel like you are very alone during this difficult project, but a lot of these things bring a very human element to the event.

Finally, what comes after you have completed. A lot of these benefits are newer than my time, but I browsed through them when I did my Camp Project. When you complete the goal in the allotted time, you get a neat little badge for your webpage and a printable certificate for the immediate boost of dopamine. But you will also get discounts to some neat shit, like different word processing applications (I got 50% off of Scrivener when I finished Camp), as well as things like The Great Courses, discounts in the swag store, etc. But more than that, there are partnering websites who want to help you on the road to being published. Wattpad is in this group, but I believe also big name publishers (I might have seen Penguin on there at one point) are willing to work with winners to get their works distributed.

All that said, I recommend every writer attempt Nano at least once in their writing career. Even if I personally have not done so stellar in the past, it is a fantastic learning experience for all of the work that goes into producing a novel from start to finish – it forces you to know your limits, and sometimes to overcome them. I don’t think I will be participating this year – I have so many side projects that I want to get done, but I will very likely drop everything to do it next year. I have two novels that are real roughly built up that I could do for this, though, and I would love the dedicated time to spend on them.

[chopper-witch]

Pass the happy! 🌻When you receive this, list five things that make you happy and send this to 10 of the last people in your notifications. 💛💛💛

I love these 🥺

1) my dog!!! Makes me very happy!!! Happy!!!!

2) a good nights sleep. I’ve had DSPS my ENTIRE life so when I’m able to actually sleep with my genuine sleep schedule that dopamine and serotonin hit is unreal.

3) when my friends/family finally watch something I love and like it too. I watch so much that I usually have watched everything they suggest but I’ve always got new suggestions for them. When my sister finally got into more than just the OT for Star Wars I started crying and my grandma told me she went through the list of marvel movies I gave her and she really enjoyed it and I also started crying. Shit like that makes me unbelievably happy.

4) being online!!! Any social platform really haha. I mean tumblr just has that special something but my career is literally social media so being online actually gives me joy and calms me down regardless of what shitstorm is going on.

5) honestly, just being able to take a day of nothing. Like, straight nothing. Even if all I do is feel nothing all day too the emotional joy that fills me with later is something I struggle to explain. I have several significant mental health issues so days of nothing can be so comforting and make me overall happier.

[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

[spacegaywritings]

Warming Paws and melting Walls (4/8) “Little Talks”

General

Summary: Lunch break rolls around. Remy and Emile make a deal.

Tags: food, eating, employer/employee, pining, remy, emile, kitty Virgil, quick mention of bereavement, sick days, systematic issues, ew world, fish, feeding the beast, mutual crushes, genderqueer characters, migraines, headaches, pain mention, exhaustion.

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 Story under the cut - Word count: almost 3k

Remy sighed and pushed his keyboard away, effectively managing to continue to press until the keyboard was unable to go any further since it hit the screen’s humble frame. Eventually, he just worked to drive himself away from the big desk he was working at. The swivel chair let him roll all over the floor, the tiled ground smooth and willing to let him pass without obstacle. Virgil commented his shenanigans with a little movement of their ear. It was just a quick flinch. Remy was not sure but he suspected it meant he was listening or registering noise at least.

 It was cute.

But.

This bastard cat was sleeping.

 The man sighed again.

 “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me, Queen, I swear-”

 Well, no matter how threatening the fancy man tried to be, it did not reach the napping cat. The little void was all comfortable in his lap. There was not a single motion at his dramatic actions, not even a simple reaction. There was nothing but a bundle of black, so black that they camouflaged themself into the blackness of Remy’s pants. All that distinguished one from another was the slow movement of rising and falling.

 Virgil was breathing alright. That was good.

Could cats have breathing problems? The vet said the cat was okay. Still, he made a mental note to look out for any signs.  

Knowing they were okay for now - with a pass by the vet - Remy felt like he could breathe much better himself. He had not noticed it but he released a soft sigh of relief. His eyes lowered to just watch the little blob of colourless something rest on his thighs.

 “I have lunch time, V, would you kindly get up and be awake and do cat things? You were awake all morning with me!”

 Despite his complaints, Remy’s words were barely audible. The receptionist was more or less hissing to himself and it sounded like a small snake cursing the world somewhere from the little hidden corner on the other side of the room.

Far, far away.

His threats were as empty as his condescension. Nothing but attitude.

 The kitten remained still and as much dopamine as there was being released within Remy, he could not help but wish to move...then again, the kitty cat was absolutely warm and the little weight on him was somewhat comforting in a refreshing manner.

 He had already finished most of his work despite having been late this morning and even needing to deal with a certain storm of emails and phone calls. Not to forget the actual real life human people that encountered him face to face.

Ugh - the worst kind of people.

 Oh fuck, he wanted more coffee. He wanted all the coffee he could ask for and then just nap for a few minutes and then get work done and go home and read some dumb romance novel.

Don’t judge.

He needed to get his prince charming from somewhere. It was not like Remy was dating anyone particularly... existing in the first place. And he just really craved some fucking love shit every now and then. You know, the soft trash with people holding hands and giving each other pet names and one bringing flowers for the others and that one thinking of a certain habit the one has so they are considering it in their regular activities.

 Remy’s facial expression faded from soft into something akin to receiving news of a bad weather day when you planned on doing any outdoor-activities with friends.

 It just ... it was missing.

 “Ah! You are done?”

 Remy flinched, his little dream world immediately breaking down as the voice cut through the silence of his new office. His fantasy bubble blobbed violently on impact of Emile’s intrusive words hitting him. He looked up. A person was standing there, apologising and knocking. Knocking after already standing in the doorway and having addressed him.

 It was not a knight in shining armour to save a bored damsel in distress nor was it prince charming, ready to sweep the sleepy man off his feet. 

It was just his boss, Emile.

 ...But it was his boss, Emile.

 Remy smiled and let himself fall back into his chair. He had not noticed how he had sat up with the sudden noise interrupting his thoughts. And his arms were slung around a sleepy yet awake little Virgil. As always, his grip was rather loose around the kitten. In a case of need, he would be tehre to hold and hug them, though.

 “Aw, I am sorry. I should have knocked before. Did I wake them up?”

 Remy blinked and nodded. Virgil was not awake but he nodded anyway, just doing it for literally no reason. Emile saw the sleeping kitten but did not comment.They squinted for a moment, worry shading their features.

 Was that just him or did it smell of food already?

Oh fuck, he had forgotten about the food. Bitch, this cat would literally make him forget and miss about everything and all. First his post-work nap, then his rave, his whole weekend, now his work and lunch break were affected, too.

 “You got food? Come in, come in.”

 This little void was easily eating away his whole life without any hesitation. He readily let him.. In his defence, they looked so cute when yawning. The charcoal demon was stretched out on Remy’s lap and pushed their tail against his chest, turning to Emile and meowing at the boss.

 Did they seriously greet them? Literally, Remy could not- this cat!

 Or maybe they meowed at the smell, it did kind of smell nice after all and the kitten had slept through his entire time here after he had gotten to work. Not even Virgil liked mornings or staying up. At least they could get back to napping, Remy jealously noticed.

 “Virgil just woke up, what a coincidence”, Remy spoke, words jokingly snippy as he carefully picked up the kitten and stroked through their fur.

“Good morning little sleepy head.”

 The kitten replied with a big orchestra of purrs and an eager bonk as they crashed their head against Remy’s. Little ferocious kitten attacking him.

 “Emile, I promise they want to kill me!”

 They laughed and held up a bag of food, slowly swinging it from one side to another.

 “Maybe we can bribe them with some lunch? It’s on me, meet you in the lunch room.”

 Remy carefully squeezed the kitten as his higher-up turned around to show their graceful behind, clothed in layers of pastels and beige. They looked the softest in the most boring yet also least boring way. It was weirdly hot, in a kinda cute and endearing way. Also, pastel colours just looked soft and somehow, they made it look professional but in a trustworthy and warm kind of way.

 It made Remy feel fuzzy and he hated loving it so much. Damn them for being so wickedly attractive.

 He swallowed his secret pining away and decided to get his kitten ready to follow Emile and get some food. Once he had his phone pocketed and his grip on Virgil secured, he was ready to walk after them. When they were close enough, he snuck over to the other side to handle whatever the heck Em wanted to talk about.

 Knowing them, it was probably something nice and soft or extra work that would get paid for super well because Emile was about the most considerate employer he had ever met. Also, because Remy was working as an untrained accountant while receiving full pay for handling literally all this business. Emile only made the official calls. Remy did not mind it because he knew, they somewhat advocated for this stance that employees were actual human beings. This meant they had needs and therefore were to be valued and appreciated and given space and freedom, so they could be creative and work effectively with as little restrictions as possible.

 Hence, Remy was allowed to hang up whatever kind of pictures and decorate his office in any kind of way. Well, nudity and such was not allowed, considering sometimes minors would enter the clinic as well, but other than that, Remy had challenged the therapist a lot.

They never let him down.

 Also, they handled his amount of sick days without issues and allowed him to hand in more sick days than he legally had to accept. They easily brushed it off as half-work day or employer-covered vacation. You know, like the stuff you got when sick days counted but in that case, you did not have any and still got pay and zero threats. Or like, bereavement leave and all.

 Emile and Remy got together and the former put out the meals and slid them into their respective places as Remy got some plates and cutlery. The lunch room was a small kitchen. It had the most essential things. Virgil was standing on Remy’s seat and lurked around. Their tail was showing despite the table stealing the view on them. Emile could see them and they saw the tail slowly swishing from one side to the other.

 Hovering, waiting. Patiently. Like a predator.

 Remy returned and put the plates down.

 “Kitty, what the fuck are you doing”

 Virgil meowed, eyes wide. Their tail stood upright with a little curl forming itself into its tip. This little void was living the life of luxury and decadence to just eat and be carried, then sleep and get woken up only to get some more food.

Remy was thriving on this attitude. What a luxury hoe. Such a Queen.

 “Remy, I think your cat will eat with us”

 His boss chuckled quietly and seated themself while Remy just sighed, rolling his eyes. By now, his head was hurting already. Not much but it was starting to hurt - moving hurt. It felt heavy and made him sleepy and exhausted.

Concentration was.. slightly off. Especially his sustained attention.

 He carefully picked up his void and put them into his lap.

 “Meow!”

 “Yes, Virgil, yes. You will eat with us, just calm down.”

 The kitten wiggled in his lap and put their paws on the edge of the table, looking at the hot sweating food containers.

 “Virgil, behave. Come on, honey”, Remy warned.

 Even his voice seemed heavy and tired. He missed his nap. In spite of this, he was being an attentive “temporary pet-keeper”. His hand moved to gently nudge the paws away from the table. Then, he picked them up to let the kitten dance dance dance a bit.

 “I am a good kitty and I will wait”, Remy mimicked softly and moved the paws from one side to the other as Virgil patiently stood on their hind paws and stared at the world in confusion.

 Emile giggled at the display while Virgil did not know what the heck was going on. Did their temporary owner go insane? They pulled out another chair on which they prepared a smaller bowl with a bit of fish in it. No seasoning or spice or anything. They had gotten it from a nearby store they had visited on the way to pick up the food order. After all, they had not been sure about whether or not Remy actually had brought some food for the kitten but apparently, this arrangement worked and Virgil’s interest was sparked.

 They watched the bowl move from Emile’s hands over to the seat and once the bowl was settled, the kitten launched themself over to the chair and ducked their tiny raven head into the big bowl. Their whole head disappeared in it and only these dark ears peeked out from within.

Silent chewing noise could be heard.

 “Remy! Remy! They eat the food I brought! Look at this kitten!”

 The receptionist couldn’t deny himself the joy of a small smile as he looked over at the small bundle of darkness hunched over the food bowl and purring in delight. In addition to this, Emile was giggling, beaming in delight and genuinely touched.

Remy looked up at them. For a moment, their eyes locked but they both looked away, averting their gazes to look at Virgil instead.

 It was rather silent for a moment, safe for the rhythmic vibrations coming from Virgil. Apparently they enjoyed their food.

 “Hey, hey - careful now!”, he warned with a grin on his face.

 He nudged his sunglasses off his head and let them slip down and onto his nose to cover his half-lidded eyes. They gleamed at Emile for a moment.

 “If you keep that up, maybe you will be their new favourite human.”

 Emile held their chest for a moment and settled opposite of Remy. Their cheeks seemed slightly reddened but they concealed it by tending to the food. They put some of the steamed vegetables onto their plate and added some fried rice. To top it all of, he had a bit of natural yoghurt from the fridge.

 They returned the playful shine in Remy’s eyes by smirking at him.

 “You say that as if this was a bad thing, Remy “

 Remy snorted.

 “You say this as if you were planning to take this poor little cat away from my horrid claws, Emile.”

 Remy had finally arranged his food on his plate, steam curling upwards from his curry and rice. Even the food containers were still sweating and smoking in heat. They looked as if these containers acted like some sort of sauna. He fed himself a first spoonful of fried rice - the tiny brown one that looked like some holy glazed rice and so small it barely qualified as anything at all - and leaned into his seat.

 Oh, this was just delightful.

Savoury flavour bloomed in his mouth, exploding in contrasts to the soft and squishy rice with the slightly harder vegetables. The different tastes stimulated his tongue just right.

If someone said foodgasms were a lie, they were missing out on this delight. It was the most subjective of all paradises.

  “The thing I wanted to talk to you about-”, Emile started, taking a bit of time to drink something in between.

 Talking all day made their throat as dry as a sand dessert.

 “You can keep my office and let your cat come to work with you but I need to ask a little favour of you. I am sure you will want to agree! “

 Remy shifted in his seat. He blinked for a moment but gave a small nod to indicate he was not just listening to probably on board for whatever Emile was planning to have him do. The therapist let their lips curl into a genuine smile.

 “We need to give our new offices a makeover! I bet you would feel more comfortable in a novel set of four walls, huh?”

 The receptionist’s cheeks darkened by a whole shade and his chest jumped for a minuscule moment. Just a little harder. He was sure it was visible and even the kitten raised their head to look at the two, staring into Emile before letting their gaze rest on their temporary owner.

However, they quickly lost interest and returned to chewing on their food.

 “Well, that sounds amazing but I.. Virgil isn’t mine.”

 Emile blinked and the kitten meowed, nudging back the bowl and retreating to Remy’s lap. He willingly picked up the void and brushed through their fur as always. The bowl was licked clean and absolutely blank. Apparently, the cat was more than just a bit into it.

 It was silent once more. Even the cat did not purr despite the soft head scritches they got. Remy pursed their lips, a shadow hitting their face.

Their whole beauty was obstructed.

 “See, their owners still might answer. I put up some signs and made a few posts on forums about missing pets. When I went to nearby shelters and called vets, I gave them a picture of Virgil and left my contact details around. They are not tattooed but they are too tame to be a wild cat.”

 Remy shrugged, voice deflated as he continued. The narrowed their eyes at him. The idea of an unaffected Remy seemed unrealistic. The man was cuddling the cat and wanted to call in sick - while knowing about how scarce his sick days were.

 “What if someone moved and accidentally left Virgil abandoned? Or they ran away during the chaos of moving?”

He sighed.

“You know, if nobody responds within a week, I think I will take you up on it. Until then I will just steal your office, honey.”

 His low voice swung up at the end of his sentence and he even let a small smile grow on his lips. Anyway, it was time to pay attention to his food. It was so much better than to look at Emile’s doubtful face.

 “You know what”, Emile countered, “I have the feeling Virgil will stay with you. Nobody responded in days and they are attached to you. It would be cruel to separate you know.”

 They helped themself to a bit more vegetables.

 “Just you wait, Remy.”

 The receptionist smirked back at them.

 “Whatever, honey~”

[smoljoelito]

obra de arte || joel pimentel

word count: 2,499

requested by/request: my own idea I threw into my queue lmfao

description: you draw joel pimentel per request, but you don’t expect him to see it.

warnings: fluff

masterlist

tags: @quierick @mepuserojito @ericks-mala-actitud @woowoodaaboo @ella-se-vuelve-loca @joelsaww @honeyzhong @sarswilltakeyouout @pimentelssmile @whippedforcnco @notsoteenagegirl @richukisbb @besosdecnco @emsy55 @cloudfiveclub @erickspretend1 @hardtoadore

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Everyone has their outlet in life, as you like to call it.

An outlet, to you, any activity you do that brings you a happiness high or gives you a sense of calamity. For some, it’s working out. The intensity and achievement of small goals gives a lot of people a shot of dopamine that becomes an addiction. For others, a creative outlet suits them best. Some people sew, draw, sing, do DIYs, and/or dance and use it as their escape from the stressors of life. Then there’s the rare few, that their outlet is their job.

For you, you’re lucky to say that you have been able to take your favorite thing in the entire world, art, and make a living off it. Never in your life did you think you’d be able to do such a thing, but after beginning to innocently post a few artworks on your art Instagram account your friends encouraged you to make, you began to grow.

It was a snowball effect, starting slow, but as soon as the bigger art accounts began to repost your drawings, it grew faster then you could ever imagine. Whimsical art was never your forte, but realism for you came naturally. You could draw anything; humans, nature, dogs, cats, buildings, etc, as easily as breathing air. Some people even began to call you an art prodigy, which you never truly believed.

Your favored medium? Anything that you can make art with. You go through phases, sometimes loving markers for quick art, topping them with colored pencils for details. Sometimes, especially for nature, you enjoy pastels, oil, and chalk, to get the beautiful blending of colors needed to successfully make the picture come alive. Your favorite, however, seems to be painting, specifically watercolor. As much as you love oil paints, there’s nothing like layering watercolors together, giving a gentle and soft finish, but also an imperfect look that seems to draw the whole piece together as one.

Most say you have the ability to make anything come alive; from highlights to lowlights, from perfecting skin colors and providing the correct background to make it all tie together. It’s a special gift of yours; being able to find whatever makes people’s eyes sparkle, and this is how you have your success as an artist. You have the ability to make your models look alive by putting them in a situation where they automatically feel the most lively, where you can see the natural glow coming off their skin. The sparkle in their eyes isn’t painted on, and the flush in their cheeks isn’t just the paint, but it’s the model, and artist, in the prime. People look better when you decide to paint them, it’s like magic, how everything comes together so perfectly on the canvas. It’s like you have an innate ability to make absolutely anything, beautiful. 

Now on a full-ride scholarship to your favored art school in LA, you’re living a dream. Most of your artworks for school, you sell for money, but in the summer, you take commissions and requests to keep your talent and extra money up. So, at the moment, you’re working on a gouache watercolor painting of Joel Pimentel, a request you recently got. You know the band he’s from, since you’ve been listening to them for quite a while, but never so much into it to learn their names.

When you got the request, you decided to do it out of other’s you’d received since, for some reason, you had an incredibly good feeling about it. Your intuition is usually fairly good and right, so you decided to paint the curly-haired boy, whose name you just learned. 

Finding the right picture seemed to take you longer than the drawing, but after searching his Instagram account, photographer’s accounts, and google images, you found the most candid photo you could find of him smiling, seeming to be in his element, and he is.

The picture was taken inside of what appears to be a recording studio, but that’s not going to matter anyway since you’re making the background a single color; blue ombré, light blue at the top to accentuate his hair, and then dark blue at the bottom. Painting him, however, would be done in black and white. You enjoy messing with colors in such a way, just to experiment and keep creativity flow up.

With the picture in front of you, you begin your sketch. For some reason, once you get the basic shapes of his face and body down, you always start with the eyes. Eyes are your favorite thing to sketch because they are so versatile. With a few highlights, you can make them look alive and glowy, and with a few more highlights and some shadings, tear-filled and irritated. To perfect them, that’s where you always start. Then you move up to the hair, and then down the rest of the body. 

When the basic outline is done, you already have pride in the drawing, excited to finish it. Painting it is your favorite part, and once you get a basic grey wash across the entire drawing, you start with, surprise, his eyes. Once you get down the basic color blocking, you begin to add details; small white highlights around the inner corner to make his eyes look extra radiant. From there, you work outwards, building shadows in his face and hair, then letting it dry while you start on the bottom half of his body. 

This is how you work, layer by layer, until the clock reads 3:11 A.M. and your eyes are shutting every few seconds, requiring you to jolt yourself awake. After cleaning up your art hands, which is what you call your hands after they’ve been covered with whatever medium(s) you’ve been using for the day (A/N: this is what I call my hands after I’ve made some art since they’re trashed lol) and you wash your face, you practically collapse in bed. 

Upon waking up the next morning with the brilliant sunlight of the morning lighting up your room, you groan at the light pounding of your head. It’s your own curse, you’re a perfectionist, and you absolutely cannot stop doing anything you’ve started until it’s completed. 

You pop a few Advil that you leave by your bed, gulping them down with some water before pulling back the covers, exposing your body to the AC. A hiss escapes your lips as the cold meets your body rather gently, brushing over your skin like a light kiss, yet leaving behind shivers and goosebumps in its wake. Quickly, you snatch your favorite hoodie you wear around the house, pulling it on your body, before letting your toes greet the chilly floor. 

After you freshen up in the bathroom, your feet pad against the floor towards the kitchen to get yourself a cup of coffee. While it brews, you head back to your art desk you keep by the window of your apartment, finding the painting of Joel staring back up at you. A gasp escapes your lips as you hold it up, heart-swelling at how good it turned out. Just as you take out your camera to take a photo of it, you can hear your Keurig spit out the last bit of your fresh cup of coffee.

Once you have mixed in enough cream and sweetener, you head back into the living room, setting the cup down on a coaster on your desk. From there, you pick up the painting, signing it quickly, before hanging it on the white wall of your apartment. After you set up some white lights, you snap a picture of it with your camera. 

While you work at your desk, you leave the painting on the wall for fear of spilling your coffee on it, yet you have no fear of it spilling on your computer. The realization of your art life makes you chuckle as you plug in your camera to your computer.

After a few quick edits, you send the photo to your phone before uploading it to Instagram and your story, making sure to tag Joel and CNCO to help with exposure. From there, you set down your phone and put away your computer, sipping on your coffee as you think about your next possible artwork. 

Once you’ve downed your first cup of coffee, you stand up, putting all your lights away and placing the painting of Joel in a portfolio case, before picking up your phone.

A gasp escapes your lips as you find your phone blowing up with notifications from Instagram, a few specific ones catching your eye.

cncomusic has uploaded your post to their story.

cncomusic has tagged you in a post.

cncomusic has mentioned you in a post.

joelpimentel has uploaded your post to their story.

joelpimentel  has tagged you in a post.

joelpimentel has mentioned you in a post.

joelpimentel wants to send you a message. 

Quickly, you open Instagram, reposting the notifications to your story as you squeal with excitement. Then, you head to your direct messages, accepting the request to allow him to message you.

joelpimentel: Hey! You’re drawing is so good, I love it so much and so does my mom. We were wondering if we can buy it off you if you’d be willing to sell it to us. Thanks so much! You’re really talented :)

Your jaw practically hits the floor as you stare bug-eyed at the message. Before your brain can even process it, your thumbs are typing.

artbyy/n: Hey! Thank you so much! I really appreciate it. Unfortunately, I won’t sell it to you, but I will send it free of charge :)

Almost immediately, you see he begins typing back.

joelpimentel: You’re welcome, anytime :). No, there’s no way I’m not paying for it! That had to take forever. My mom says she’s going to pay you.

artbyy/n: LOL it didn’t take me that long. The medium I used wasn’t my most expensive medium and it was a request, not a commission, so I don’t really mind. I mean you already reposted my art and tagged me in it on your account and on CNCO’s account, that’s payment enough. My follower count is skyrocking lol thank you!

joelpimentel: Fine, okay. You’re welcome lol. Do you want to ship it to me?

artbyy/n: Sure! I can get it in the mail today if you send me your address right now.

joelpimentel: Alright, here it is! Thanks again :)) My mom is really excited.

artbyy/n: LOL well, tell her I said thanks! And you’re welcome, anytime!

Quickly, you take one of those long yellow envelopes and write the address on it with a brush pen to add to the artsy vibe. Calligraphy is also something you do in your free time, just to take a break from art sometimes. Then, you take the artwork and slide it in between two pieces of cardboard inside the yellow envelope before sealing it off with a rubber stamp with your initials on it. 

After putting on a stamp and paying for shipping, you take your keys and slide on some shoes, before walking outside to find your mailbox. Unfortunately, all the mailboxes are on the first floor of your apartment building, so you hop on an elevator and take the ride all the way down.

Around ten minutes later, you find your way back into the apartment, locking the door and kicking off your shoes. You head back over to your phone, finding many new notifications from Instagram.

joelpimentel liked your photo.

joelpimentel liked your photo.

joelpimentel liked your photo.

joelpimentel liked your photo.

It goes on and on for many notifications making you giggle, and then you see there’s a new message from him.

joelpimentel: Your art is amazing holy crap is there anything you can’t draw? Sorry for bombing your phone my mom and I were looking LOL.

artbyy/n: LOL I tend to draw the same things over and over again, so probably haha. It’s totally okay! A celebrity is liking all of my pictures and you think I’M complaining? Also, hi mom lol.

joelpimentel: I think you’re wrong you could probably draw blind. LOL you still have a right to complain. She said hi and wants to know if you speak Spanish cause she saw some of your captions are in Spanish.

artbyy/n: I actually have drawn blind before! It’s a form of art called the blind contour line drawing! Lol yeah I do! I love speaking Spanish so much I would speak it over English if I could. I took classes in high school and now I’m getting a minor in it! Last year I went to Ecuador to study abroad and I just got back a few weeks ago. It feels weird to speak English lol.

joelpimentel: I know the feeling. When I travel with my band and speak Spanish all the time then flip languages it feels unnatural. That’s so awesome you learned it though! Not a lot of people speak it that weren’t raised in a Latin family. My mom says that’s really cool and wants to know how you liked Ecuador.

artbyy/n: Thanks! I know right. I love the language and culture. I just love languages and cultures in general though. Really I could sit and listen to someone tell me about their culture for hours. In my free time last year I started teaching myself Italian too just because languages are cool. 

artbyy/n: Ecuador is the most beautiful country I have ever been too. I cried like a baby when I left. Everyone was so nice there, including my host family. I miss my host mom so much :( she’s the light of my life lol.

joelpimentel: I love languages too! I try to learn a few words from every country I visit. The world is an incredibly cool place haha. I’m interested just like you are :). 

joelpimentel: Ecuador is amazing. One of my bandmates, Chris, is from Ecuador! He’d be so happy to hear you loved it. Aw, I’m sorry :( hopefully, you can visit soon.

The conversation goes on for hours like this, and you only realize when your stomach starts rumbling from lack of food. Really, you’re never on your phone, so it’s odd for you to sit, staring at a screen all day long. A smile has been plastered across your face the entirety of the conversation, and you can’t help but hope he keeps talking to you for a while. It seems you both have the same likes and dislikes, so the flow of conversation is some of the easiest you’ve ever had. 

The smile on your face lasts the rest of the day as you two happily text until it is time to go to bed. When he wishes you goodnight, you swoon, phone dropping onto your chest as you stare up at the ceiling grinning.

Oh boy, you’re in for some trouble.

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do we want a part two?