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pandaluc · 3 years

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Fated To Be Apart; Together By Heart

Pairing: Zhongli x g!n Reader

Genre: fluff, hurt with no comfort

Warnings: mentions of war, death. slight mention of blood and corpse, grammar and spelling mistakes.

Zhongli was a man of composure, sincerity and wisdom. Yes, he often forgets about mora, but his personality is not all that. In fact, he was a loving man. A reason why you had fallen in love with him. He had so many experiences, and you admire him for that. One of his many experiences is death. He had lost so many loved ones, to the point where whenever he meets someone, he will always tell himself to prepare for their death. Because of his years of living, he got used with deaths... but do you think that such will be applied to everyone? Or maybe he secretly prays to the celestial gods to protect and save a particular someone from death? Will the celestial gods hear him?

You and the traveller were friends ever since the two of you talked to each other in Mondstadt. A reason why you were friends is because the both of you are travellers, seeking the same thing - to know more about this unknown god. Ever since the two of you knew this similarity to each other, you would travel Teyvat together. You both were like duos - you would plan things out while they act these plan out..and well Paimon would be the source of your mental strength, cheering the both of you up if times get rough. Alas, you and the traveller reached Liyue, and met this man named Zhongli. Just a day being with him made you look up to him so much. From his words to his beliefs, you. admired them. Even if he did not have mora with him, some part of you admired him for that since he doesn't pay too much...attention, yes, to prices. He was smart, caring, and gentle. Little did you know that that exact moment, Zhongli had also admired your stories and personality.

Time goes by, and you fell for him even more. As if every minute you spend with him, there is warmth in your heart. Everytime you look at his shining eyes, you end up being in awe.. what a beautiful man, you tell yourself. Though you were careful with being in love with him. From what you knew, he was a mortal while you are a traveller of realities being thousands years old. But alas, it has been made known to you and the traveller that he is an archon, alive for more than 6000 years. You felt better with being in love with him, and thought that maybe that is one of the reasons why you felt some strong connection between the both of you.

After you and the traveller saved Liyue, the traveller had to leave you in order to go to Inazuma - a closed nation that unfortunately, you cannot go in. Though you were sad that you have to leave the traveller in Inazuma, you were happy when you realized you could spend more time with Zhongli alone. And so, the both of you did. Each day, the both of you fell more and more in love with each other to the point where you cannot handle your feelings being hidden anymore. So you confessed. Part of you were scared, but you knew Zhongli was mature enough to not let your friendship fade away if ever he doesn't like, no, love you back.

"Does this mean that we break our friendship now?", Zhongli's words startled and hurt you. "Why..? You don't have to love me back, I am alright with that. But why must our friendship be ruined because of my feelings?", you ask him looking straight at his eye as you do everything you can to not let your tears escape your eyes. "If two people become in love with each other, don't they leave the stage of friendship and proceed to be in a relationship together?", Zhongli replied in a stern yet blushing face. Yoh look at him with shock and jokingly hit his chest. "First off, why must you scare me like that? How rude.. And second, where did you learn how to say these kind of things?". A part of you was upset that he had scared you like that, but you still had a wholesome smile in your face, a result of happiness because he had felt the same way towards you all along. Zhongli simply chuckled, which is quite rare, to your flustered state and proceeded to put one arm on the back of your head, pulling you to a hug while your head relaxes against his chest.

And starting that day, you and Zhongli was in a relationship. At first, it was quite awkward. After all, Zhongli never had been into a relationship or at least, been years since he had been into one again. You're relationship was also private. The both of you did not do pda too much. But behind closed doors, Zhongli loves to hug you and put his head on top of yours, relaxing to your embrace as he forgets all of the cruel things in this world. One day, the traveller came back to Liyue to perhaps bring you in Snezhnaya with them, but you preffered to be selfish for once and declined. You still wanted to know more about the unknown god, but at the same time, you are already contented with the life you have with Zhongli. The traveller understood that and made their way in Snezhnaya, you reminding them that if they need anything, they could ask you for help.

Zhongli was quite surprised with your decision. He did not want to be a distraction to your goals, however, you insisted that it is alright. In which he became secretly happy about. He is, after all, very in love with you. So much that no word can describe the amount of love he has for you. As an archon, he had met a lot of people and lost lots. He was used to it, and often times, he would prepare himself if anyone he meets dies. But you. He knew that he was nowhere near prepared to see you dying, or simply disappearing from his life. He wanted you to stay. And he will do everything to do so. May it be strict contracts or bloody fighting, he will do it just so that you will stay alive. He at first thought that it was pathetic for him to act and think like this all because of one person in his life. All because of you. But instead of burying himself with these thoughts, he simply decided to do everything he can to make you stay. Everyday, he thanks the celestial gods for such a wonderful partner and asks them to protect you with all their might.

But alas, all lovely days come to an end. The traveller's experience in Snezhnaya sadly was very complicated. It caused the fatui to attack Liyue and Mondstadt. It caused Venti and Zhongli regret losing their gnosis because now, all they can rely on is human power and celestial gods' mercy to protect their nations...

A lot of people in Liyue proceeded to hide from the fatui, going through mountains and forests just to survive the war going through. The adeptus, as well as those with visions and the traveller, was doing everything they can to help Liyue. You decided to help as well. Zhongli, at first, was hesitant. He did not want you to fight as your chances of dying will increase. All he wanted to do was for the two of you to run, hide, and if anything happens, simply defend yourselves together. But no. A part of you thinks that if only you had went with the traveller, none of this could've happened. You had a tearful argument with Zhongli, just so that he could allow you to fight while he runs, saving himself from the war. Before leaving him in a cave both of you found and hid in, the last conversation you had with him happened.

"Please..dear. Please stay safe. Please do not die on me. I trust you, but I hope you know that I can never manage to lose you."

"Zhongli, my dear, you know that I cannot just leave Liyue to suffer when I have the power to defend the nation."

"But I cannot afford to lose you. I rarely do these type of things, but I am begging you to go back home harmless and safe."

"We both have lived for thousands of years. We both know that this was bound to happen."

"I do know that such is bound to happen, but I am not prepared to lose you. I never want to lose you. I want the both of us to spend each day in our life together. So please, don't just leave me. Promise me that we will still be with each other, together, even after this war."

"I will try."

You refused to look at him as you two had this conversation. But you know he was crying. You know he was suffering. You knew, however, that you need to help defend Liyue. And so, you bid your last goodbye as you left him miserable.

He waited for you. He remained awake at night, hoping to see you just by the cave entrance. But you never came home. However, he still waited. He wanted to keep his promise to you to stay safe no matter what. A day of waiting, turned into three. Three days of waiting had turned into five. Five days of waiting, turned into a week. He trusted you. He listened to you. He prayed to the celestial gods. But he cannot sit in the cave anymore, simply waiting for you. He went outside with his polearm, and tried to find you.

He went to rivers, lakes, and forests but he cannot find you. After a few days of searching, he finally sees you. Your cold rotting body, dried blood all over you, your eyes and mouth open. It was a sight he imagined might happen but he never wanted to see. He ran to you, cupped your face. Uncontrollably, many tears had fallen from his eyes as his hands shake while holding your dead corpse. He lost you. He was too late. He felt stupid. He should've done more to make you stay. And now, you're dead. The one he loved so so much, is now dead on the ground. He screamed, not caring if there is anyone near by or if there are any fatui members that could hear him and kill him. He found life suddenly useless. He found his heart empty, mind filled with so many regrets and memories of the both of you. He thought to himself why must it end this way? He was mad, sad, disappointed... Even if you were dead, he held your cold hands and hugged you for one last time.

What he did not however was that you were still there. That the celestial gods had listened to the both of you - that the both of you will stay together. However, you are only there beside him as a spirit that he is not able to see. You felt horrible. You tried your very best but you failed. And now, the both of you are covered in tears. One decision. Only one decision of yours was what led the two of you to this.

The war had ended. Lots of people died, including you. Ever since the day you died, you followed Zhongli everywhere as a spirit. You would hug him, kiss him, and hold his hand especially when he cries about your death. You know that he won't feel your affections and hear your words, but you stayed with him just like how you would as a human.

Maybe Zhongli became slightly crazy. Maybe he knew that you were a spirit. Maybe it was just his way of coping. But a lot of times, especially when he is alone, he would pretend that you are still with him. Everytime he cooks food, he pretends to talk to you and tell you about his day. Everytime he eats, he always put on two plates on the table, one for him and one for you. Everytime he sleeps, he leaves a space for you and wears a shirt of yours, and hugs the pillow you used to lay on, and he does not decide on washing anytime soon. Even in times where he would take a walk, he would have one hand open, pretending that you are there to hold it. Some had noticed this habit of Zhongli, especially the traveller and Paimon. They would think that such coping mechanism is unhealthy and will just hurt him more. Some also thinks that it is quite delusional of him to do such things. But they preferred not to tell him these because they knew how important you are to him. They knew how your death affected him so much, and decided to just let him be.

Bonus:

He and Childe are still friends in some way. Childe indeed was a part of the fatui, but was against with the war that happened. In fact, he helped the traveller and tried to save you. It was also because of this war why he had left the fatui and hated it instead. Sometimes, Zhongli and Childe would have a conversation together. Childe would even cook for Zhongli at times. And since he knows how Zhongli copes with his loss, he would make sure that there is an empty chair for you anytime, as well as a plate of food meant for you. You can't help but feel sad and happy at the same time. You were sad to see Zhongli like this, miserable and dead inside. But quite, just quite, happy that he still acknowledges your presence even if he does not know you as a spirit, but knows you as a part of his memory and imagination.

Author's Note:

Felt like writing hurt today so here, I feed you this. Archons know how much grammar and spelling mistakes are in this post, so forgive me for that. I don't know if it is sad enough to make people cry, but I wish it is because that is my goal after all. I love y'all and stay safe, have a good day <3 sorry if this is also ooc, i main zhongli but uhh :D i only know osmanthus wine

#pandaluc #zhongli #zhongli x reader #geo archon #genshin imagines #genshin impact #genshin men #genshin x reader #zhongli imagines

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frankiefellinlove · 4 years

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This is it! The whole article where John Landau writes that Bruce “is the future of rock n roll”. Long but so worth the read, to see that quote in context.

GROWING YOUNG WITH ROCK AND ROLL

By Jon Landau

The Real Paper

May 22, 1974📷

It's four in the morning and raining. I'm 27 today, feeling old, listening to my records, and remembering that things were diffferent a decade ago. In 1964, I was a freshman at Brandeis University, playing guitar and banjo five hours a day, listening to records most of the rest of the time, jamming with friends during the late-night hours, working out the harmonies to Beach Boys' and Beatles' songs.

Real Paper soul writer Russell Gersten was my best friend and we would run through the 45s everyday: Dionne Warwick's "Walk On By" and "Anyone Who Had A Heart," the Drifters' "Up On the Roof," Jackie Ross' "Selfish One," the Marvellettes' "Too Many Fish in the Sea," and the one that no one ever forgets, Martha Reeves and the Vandellas' "Heat Wave." Later that year a special woman named Tamar turned me onto Wilson Pickett's "Midnight Hour" and Otis Redding's "Respect," and then came the soul. Meanwhile, I still went to bed to the sounds of the Byrds' "Mr. Tambourine Man" and later "Younger than Yesterday," still one of my favorite good-night albums. I woke up to Having a Rave-Up with the Yardbirds instead of coffee. And for a change of pace, there was always bluegrass: The Stanley Brothers, Bill Monroe, and Jimmy Martin.

Through college, I consumed sound as if it were the staff of life. Others enjoyed drugs, school, travel, adventure. I just liked music: listening to it, playing it, talking about it. If some followed the inspiration of acid, or Zen, or dropping out, I followed the spirit of rock'n'roll.

Individual songs often achieved the status of sacraments. One September, I was driving through Waltham looking for a new apartment when the sound on the car radio stunned me. I pulled over to the side of the road, turned it up, demanded silence of my friends and two minutes and fifty-six second later knew that God had spoken to me through the Four Tops' "Reach Out, I'll Be There," a record that I will cherish for as long as [I] live.

During those often lonely years, music was my constant companion and the search for the new record was like a search for a new friend and new revelation. "Mystic Eyes" open mine to whole new vistas in white rock and roll and there were days when I couldn't go to sleep without hearing it a dozen times.

Whether it was a neurotic and manic approach to music, or just a religious one, or both, I don't really care. I only know that, then, as now, I'm grateful to the artists who gave the experience to me and hope that I can always respond to them.

The records were, of course, only part of it. In '65 and '66 I played in a band, the Jellyroll, that never made it. At the time I concluded that I was too much of a perfectionist to work with the other band members; in the end I realized I was too much of an autocrat, unable to relate to other people enough to share music with them.

Realizing that I wasn't destined to play in a band, I gravitated to rock criticism. Starting with a few wretched pieces in Broadside and then some amateurish but convincing reviews in the earliest Crawdaddy, I at least found a substitute outlet for my desire to express myself about rock: If I couldn't cope with playing, I may have done better writing about it.

But in those days, I didn't see myself as a critic -- the writing was just another extension of an all-encompassing obsession. It carried over to my love for live music, which I cared for even more than the records. I went to the Club 47 three times a week and then hunted down the rock shows -- which weren't so easy to find because they weren't all conveniently located at downtown theatres. I flipped for the Animals' two-hour show at Rindge Tech; the Rolling Stones, not just at Boston Garden, where they did the best half hour rock'n'roll set I had ever seen, but at Lynn Football Stadium, where they started a riot; Mitch Ryder and the Detroit Wheels overcoming the worst of performing conditions at Watpole Skating Rink; and the Beatles at Suffolk Down, plainly audible, beatiful to look at, and confirmation that we -- and I -- existed as a special body of people who understood the power and the flory of rock'n'roll.

I lived those days with a sense of anticipation. I worked in Briggs & Briggs a few summers and would know when the next albums were coming. The disappointment when the new Stones was a day late, the exhilaration when Another Side of Bob Dylan showed up a week early. The thrill of turning on WBZ and hearing some strange sound, both beautiful and horrible, but that demanded to be heard again; it turned out to be "You've Lost That Loving Feeling," a record that stands just behind "Reach Out I'll Be There" as means of musical catharsis.

My temperament being what it is, I often enjoyed hating as much as loving. That San Francisco shit corrupted the purity of the rock that I lvoed and I could have led a crusade against it. The Moby Grape moved me, but those songs about White Rabbits and hippie love made me laugh when they didn't make me sick. I found more rock'n'roll in the dubbed-in hysteria on the Rolling Stones Got Live if You Want It than on most San Francisco albums combined.

For every moment I remember there are a dozen I've forgotten, but I feel like they are with me on a night like this, a permanent part of my consciousness, a feeling lost on my mind but never on my soul. And then there are those individual experiences so transcendent that I can remember them as if they happened yesterday: Sam and Dave at the Soul Together at Madison Square Garden in 1967: every gesture, every movement, the order of the songs. I would give anything to hear them sing "When Something's Wrong with My Baby" just the way they did it that night.

The obsessions with Otis Redding, Jerry Butler, and B.B. King came a little bit later; each occupied six months of my time, while I digested every nuance of every album. Like the Byrds, I turn to them today and still find, when I least expect it, something new, something deeply flet, something that speaks to me.

As I left college in 1969 and went into record production I started exhausting my seemingly insatiable appetite. I felt no less intensely than before about certain artists; I just felt that way about fewer of them. I not only became more discriminating but more indifferent. I found it especially hard to listen to new faces. I had accumulated enough musical experience to fall back on when I needed its companionship but during this period in my life I found I needed music less and people, whom I spend too much of my life ignoring, much more.

Today I listen to music with a certain measure of detachment. I'm a professional and I make my living commenting on it. There are months when I hate it, going through the routine just as a shoe salesman goes through his. I follow films with the passion that music once held for me. But in my own moments of greatest need, I never give up the search for sounds that can answer every impulse, consume all emotion, cleanse and purify -- all things that we have no right to expect from even the greatest works of art but which we can occasionally derive from them.

Still, today, if I hear a record I like it is no longer a signal for me to seek out every other that the artist has made. I take them as they come, love them, and leave them. Some have stuck -- a few that come quickly to mind are Neil Young's After the Goldrush, Stevie Wonder's Innervisions, Van Morrison's Tupelo Honey, James Taylor's records, Valerie Simpson's Exposed, Randy Newman's Sail Away, Exile on Main Street, Ry Cooder's records, and, very specially, the last three albums of Joni Mitchell -- but many more slip through the mind, making much fainter impressions than their counterparts of a decade ago.

But tonight there is someone I can write of the way I used to write, without reservations of any kind. Last Thursday, at the Harvard Square theatre, I saw my rock'n'roll past flash before my eyes. And I saw something else: I saw rock and roll future and its name is Bruce Springsteen. And on a night when I needed to feel young, he made me feel like I was hearing music for the very first time.

When his two-hour set ended I could only think, can anyone really be this good; can anyone say this much to me, can rock'n'roll still speak with this kind of power and glory? And then I felt the sores on my thighs where I had been pounding my hands in time for the entire concert and knew that the answer was yes.

Springsteen does it all. He is a rock'n'roll punk, a Latin street poet, a ballet dancer, an actor, a joker, bar band leader, hot-shit rhythm guitar player, extraordinary singer, and a truly great rock'n'roll composer. He leads a band like he has been doing it forever. I racked my brains but simply can't think of a white artist who does so many things so superbly. There is no one I would rather watch on a stage today. He opened with his fabulous party record "The E Street Shuffle" -- but he slowed it down so graphically that it seemed a new song and it worked as well as the old. He took his overpowering story of a suicide, "For You," and sang it with just piano accompaniment and a voice that rang out to the very last row of the Harvard Square theatre. He did three new songs, all of them street trash rockers, one even with a "Telstar" guitar introduction and an Eddie Cochran rhythm pattern. We missed hearing his "Four Winds Blow," done to a fare-thee-well at his sensational week-long gig at Charley's but "Rosalita" never sounded better and "Kitty's Back," one of the great contemporary shuffles, rocked me out of my chair, as I personally led the crowd to its feet and kept them there.

Bruce Springsteen is a wonder to look at. Skinny, dressed like a reject from Sha Na Na, he parades in front of his all-star rhythm band like a cross between Chuck Berry, early Bob Dylan, and Marlon Brando. Every gesture, every syllable adds something to his ultimate goal -- to liberate our spirit while he liberates his by baring his soul through his music. Many try, few succeed, none more than he today.

It's five o'clock now -- I write columns like this as fast as I can for fear I'll chicken out -- and I'm listening to "Kitty's Back." I do feel old but the record and my memory of the concert has made me feel a little younger. I still feel the spirit and it still moves me.

I bought a new home this week and upstairs in the bedroom is a sleeping beauty who understands only too well what I try to do with my records and typewriter. About rock'n'roll, the Lovin' Spoonful once sang, "I'll tell you about the magic that will free your soul/But it's like trying to tell a stranger about rock'n'roll." Last Thursday, I remembered that the magic still exists and as long as I write about rock, my mission is to tell a stranger about it -- just as long as I remember that I'm the stranger I'm writing for.

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treadmilltreats · 3 years

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Yet another attack on a unarmed black man

So here I am writing about yet another attack on an unarmed black man. Why is it that this is a running occurrence that we constantly see over and over again with no change?

If you haven't heard, you must be living under a rock but it was announced yesterday that two Virginia police officers have been sued for allegedly drawing their guns on a uniformed Army officer during a traffic stop and spraying him with a substance. One of them has since been terminated.

Now in my opinion there was nothing allegedly about it as it was on tape just as George Floyd's murder was on tape. So what's with the allegedly but in this country you are innocent until proven guilty even if you have every second on tape for the whole world to see.

But I am getting off topic, on Dec. 5, 2020, Windsor police officers Joe Gutierrez and Daniel Crocker pulled over U.S. Army 2nd Lt. Caron Nazario, who is Black and Latino, while he was dressed in uniform, according to the lawsuit filed April 2.

They pulled him over in his newly purchased Chevrolet Tahoe SUV for not having a rear license plate, according to the lawsuit. Which by the way he clearly did have a temporary one taped to his back window. Nazario was returning home from his duty station at the time, the lawsuit said.

The suit, filed in the U.S. District Court for Eastern Virginia in Norfolk, claims the officers violated Nazario's constitutional rights and seeks compensatory and punitive damages.

We all can clearly see from the police body camera footage the officers pursuing Nazario, who then pulled over at a well-lit gas station. Now if you listen and read things they tell you to put your hazard lights on and go to a well lite area with people around if you are afraid that it:

A. It may not be a real police officer or

B. If you are a black man in this country afraid for your life (Which is every day for them)

According to the report Officer Crocker submitted after the incident, Crocker said the driver was "eluding police" and he considered it to be a high-risk traffic because he refused to pull over on a dark road by power hunger, under trained police officers who are on a rampage of killing black men. I don't blame him, I wouldn't have pulled over either. It's not like he took them on a high speed chase around the city.

Look, let's just tell it like it is here, sorry if the truth offends you, but here it is everyday on video for the world to see.

When he did pull over in a well lit gas station he proceeded to put his both hands out the window and asked the police calmly what he did, which by the way, is his right to do.

The police officers at this point became aggressive screaming at him to get out of the car. He told them he was serving our country, that he was active in the military and that he was afraid of being shot.

He kept his hands out and kept asking why he was pulled over.

The police were getting more aggressive and finally pepper sprayed him. They pulled him out, handcuffed him and searched his car, he was later released without charge.

But this could have went down so differently as so many others do, ending up with a murder of yet another unarmed black man. Look if you read my blog you know I am an older white woman who doesn't have anything to worry about if I get pulled over and even if I had boys, I wouldn't have to teach them how not to get shot by police if they are pulled over or arrested. But many of my black friends do have to do this. They must be worried about being killed or their children being killed each and every day just because of their skin color.

This is unimaginable to me and yet I know it's true.

Now before you come at me, I am not saying defund the police, I am saying you need more hours to do hair then you need to be a police officer in this country. We need better training, deeper background checks to see how they personally feel about racism. We need to teach sensitivity training, mental health training before we give a gun and this kind of power to just anyone.

Thank God this did not end up in another tragedy like so many others we have witnessed. I know I would like to apologize to US Army 2nd Lt. Caron Nazario for this and thank him for his service and for standing up and filing this lawsuit because nowadays it only seems to matter if you hit them in their pockets, yes, this is the frigged up world we live in today.

So today my friends, remember we all bleed red, we are all God's children and we need to start acting like it.

These are mothers, fathers, sisters and brothers, friends and families losing their loved ones on a daily basis and this needs to stop. We need to make a change, we need a better system in place because clearly this one is broken.

And as I say in every blog…

We must be the change we want to see.

@treadmilltreats

Be the change you want to see"

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gmarytherese · 6 years

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The only life worth living

Perhaps some lessons in life, we are meant to walk through them ourselves before we will actually learn and become convicted. Growing up in church and around God-fearing friends and adults, I was constantly told that choosing Christ will bring me greater fulfilment, joy and peace. For the largest part of my life, I trusted these words as words of truth. I'm not one to question unnecessarily, possibly cause of sloth, but in any case I never questioned it. I believed fully that it is only in pursuing what is of God that I will be satisfied.

Yet last year, everything for me came crashing down. Since 2012 after a relationship ended, I sought to focus fully on Christ and in seeking Him with all my heart. I held on closely to the belief that if I focus fully on Christ, He will clear my path before me and give me what my heart seemingly desired the most at the right time. And so it is in 2016 that I felt that God has finally answered the desires of my heart and that was to send me a man who was God fearing.

"I knew my God was a faithful God; years of being faithful to Him are finally rewarded by granting me this relationship."

How transactional my thoughts were! Yet, those were my genuine thoughts and emotions then. I felt that the years of being faithful to Christ and constantly choosing Him was finally rewarded. Yet, the relationship came to an end very quickly and my world turned upside down.

I felt betrayed by God, angry even. What was the point of being faithful to Christ when what I ended up with was yet another heartbreak? Slowly but surely, the anger began to die down; but what replaced that anger on the other hand, was indifference and apathy. Precisely because I was angry with God, I chose to stay away from Him. Thus, I found comfort with my non-church friends who would bring me out for drinks and to just have a good time to unwind and get my mind off things.

Over time, I started to question what many have told me since I was young.

"Can I really only find fulfilment, peace, joy and happiness in the church and in Christ?"

I started to question because I looked around me and saw that my friends who were not christians continued to live what seemed like happy and contented lives! For years I found myself choosing to sacrifice desires of my heart in order to be faithful to Christ; yet here I was with a broken heart while my non Christian friends, had the beautiful live that I wanted! Many are happily married or engaged, and the future holds such a beautiful promise of raising families. That had long been my dream, but I found myself so far from it. What a fool I must have been! Must I really choose to sacrifice all these because Christ is inviting me for more? I mean, can he really offer me more than what my non Christian friends have, cause frankly, they seem happy enough.

With that, I convinced myself that it was okay to choose to live a life apart from Christ. I still went for community sessions and for daily mass even, but my heart was far from Christ. I started to live as a child of the world and not just god's child in the world. After the heartbreak, I longed for companionship and now without any guilt in my indifferent and apathetic heart, I sought to fill my desires for companionship by being with a guy who was going after me.

"Everyone in our world does it now. People who are attracted to each other just get together, sleep together and all of that and they are happy! I can live that life too! Honestly, who cares about Christ's standards when all it seems to bring is pain and sacrifice."

And so with these thoughts and new found beliefs, I dived head in into living this life of merely seeking for temporal pleasures.

Slowly, life became a meaningless routine. I would wake up every morning, attend daily mass and then head to work. After work, I would either go out to drink with friends or hang out with the guy to satisfy my need for companionship and then head home to rest. Next morning, the cycle repeats itself. Everyday was the same and life became monotonous and meaningless.

Yet in those few months on hindsight, I saw how God continued to reach out his hand towards me, beckoning me to come home.

"If a man has a hundred sheep and one of them gets lost, what will he do? Won't he leave the ninety-nine others in the wilderness and go to search for the one that is lost until he finds it?

- Luke 15:4

During the night when i found myself alone with my thoughts (because I somehow didn't fill my day up with activities), I felt the most extreme and intense pangs of loneliness.

Whenever I met my friends for drinks, or whenever I'm with that guy, I was happy. Yet, this happiness didn't last long and I found myself constantly seeking for yet another drinking session or night with the guy when the pleasure and happiness from the previous session wears off.

I felt like I was hooked onto a drug that could only give me a high for short period of time, and I constantly needed and craved for more. The scary part was that I knew if I didn't fill my days with these activities, I would come face to face with essentially the pains and loneliness that my heart has been trying to alert me too; and so to avoid that, I sought to fill my days and nights with more activities, and more superficial and self seeking relationships. I found myself trapped in a vicious cycle of superficiality and selfishness.

But as I wrote earlier, our God is a God who constantly pursues even though none of us are worthy of his time and his love. The moments of grace came when I found myself in unplanned moments of silence and aloneness as I lay on my bed at night. My heart had felt happiness no doubt when I was with my friends and the guy, yet alone, I realised how my life became meaningless and I found myself incredibly alone. Though I was constantly surrounded by people, even a guy who was attracted to me and vice versa, I found myself experiencing the greatest loneliness I have ever experienced when these temporal satiation wears off. But what was truly unbearable, was the thought that I was not living for anything anymore. I was merely existing, no longer living.

I found that I no longer lived for anything as everyday just became a routine and a constant seeking of temporal pleasures. Honestly, it is in these moments of true aloneness that one begins to realize the true state of one's life. I realised life for me, became reduced to one of loneliness and meaninglessness.

And it was in this darkest moment of my life, that I knew the people in church were right. I can only live a fulfilled life that is joy and peace filled if I choose to walk in the way of Christ. Sure, choosing to walk in the way that Christ is calling me to walk involves a lot of sacrifice and pain, and frankly sometimes seem foolish in the eyes of the world.

Yet from my own experience, I firmly believe that it is easy to be fooled by the happy faces that we see around us into believing that maybe we don't need Christ in our lives. If you saw me when I was drinking with my friends or with the guy, I would exude happiness, as though I was contented with life. Yet, what we do not see are the moments where these people find themselves alone and faced with the reality of the state of their lives, just as I had experienced when I lay alone on my bed at night.

Are they truly happy living a life apart from Christ, we will never know. What I know is that in those few months of rebelling and choosing to walk in the ways of the world, I never felt more alone and I found life incredibly meaningless. What was the point of living if it is just chasing after what is temporal and short lived?

With that realisation when I found myself alone and having to face the reality of my life and soul then, I understood that I needed to allow Christ back in my life and that began the slow process of coming back to Him. It was difficult because I had to break off the relationship that though granted me the companionship I desired, also became an obstacle to me giving my life and heart entirely to Jesus. After weeks of wrestling with God, I was granted the grace and courage to end the relationship with finality; and with that painful and difficult choice, I was finally able to move on and mend my relationship with Jesus.

Although I had been so unfaithful to Christ, I knew that He was still pursuing me and wanted my heart to be His completely and so ending the relationship was essential. I still suffer the consequences of ending the relationship cause I still see this guy at times, and there continues to be a lot of tension and awkwardness. Yet, I understood that this is just one of the tiny crosses that I have to bear to once again get back onto the path of Christ. I choose to bear the cross of awkwardness, tension and pain in exchange for eternal joy and salvation.

To say that the mere realisation that my life has been reduced to just chasing after temporal pleasures was enough to steer me back onto the path of eternal joy and salvation would be an oversimplification and inaccurate. What God blessed me with during that time (and still continues too), were friends who continued to pray for me and to challenge me to come back. I know that without the prayers and the constant support of these friends that Christ has placed in my life, I would still be lost in the vicious cycle of superficiality.

Looking back, I see how I could have avoided those months of darkness if I had just listened to the words spoken to me since young about the joy and fulfilment that only life with Christ can bring. Yet I also acknowledge that without having gone through this experience myself, I would never have been as convicted of how necessary Christ is in my life and in everybody's life. And most importantly, I am immensely grateful that God never gave up on me though I tried to ran far away from His love.

"Where can I go from your Spirit?

Where can I flee from your presence?

If I go up to the heavens, you are there;

if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.

If I rise on the wings of the dawn,

if I settle on the far side of the sea,

even there your hand will guide me,

your right hand will hold me fast.

If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me

and the light become night around me,”

even the darkness will not be dark to you;

the night will shine like the day,

for darkness is as light to you."

- Psalm 139:7-12

Dear brothers and sisters in Christ, don't settle for less just cause it is easier or when things get tough in life, because trust me, the joy and peace from following Christ's way far outweighs the sacrifices and sufferings that He invites us to carry this day. Trust me.

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cyberpunkmia · 3 years

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# 002 . ] When The Party's Over

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There's always been this sad feeling to the end of a night alive. You would think it'd end the same way it began the next morning you wake up, but the feeling is far from it, actually. You would think I'd enjoy speaking of it, but the conclusion becomes heart wrenching. It's the truth, after all. As humans we tend to chase after the feeling of being alive, feeling something, anything at that. As we grow older, we seek that in the sensation of feeling numb to the pain that's chased us since the beginning to our lives on this earth. It's not our fault, but feeling low can have its own consequences. We'd rather drink the night away, smoke until there's not a single trace left. The natural instinct is to bury what buried us. Really, there is no end to the obstacles in this life; but we make the most of it. We make our failures, our downs, and our mistakes something beautiful, something unbreakable. It's a strength within, it never stops getting stronger through time. Perhaps time may be the killer, but we revive ourselves through our very own battle scars of our youth. Like throwing fine china at the barren wall to disperse anger, like listening to an angrily punk rock tune in order to get rid of anger within a different breed, we rage against the dying of our light. There's strength in it, refusing to cave.

At the time when partying became something of a two week rebound was around the age of eighteen, going on to nineteen. At the same time as well, I remained faithful to someone I knew I loved deeply. Supposedly, as a woman if you'd go out dressed beautifully in hopes of a magical night, it'd be distasteful. Though arguably, intent means everything. You hold onto your sole intentions, and that's how you levitate about a neon lit room. Anyone who wishes to jeopardize that doesn't know their place, and fails to see yours. There's nothing wrong with it though, souls don't align the same all the time. It's the variety of things we've been through, our stories that differ. Thus being what's at fault, bad timing. That wouldn't be the stop to fighting for mine; my very own story. Like an A24 movie, or an edgy episode short on a Norwegian coming of age tv show, I felt I deserved the right to live it, experience a setting like so. It was for experience with friends, yet at the same time it was also the smell of a perfectly rolled blunt silently calling out to my deadbeat conscience.

Truth be told though, loving wasn't easy at the time, but what was worse was that I was in love deeply. We fight for love, wherever we can find it, because without it, we are ghosts. Similar to fighting for a love that has had one too many blows from an entity of lost hope, no. Loving was never made easy. It makes us feel alive though, and maybe that's what we always tend to chase after. Life. Maybe love inspired me to chase after life, after all. The moments that gave me reason. Anxiety had been what made me afraid to approach the spontaneous moments in life, and strength came from my hope in love. So maybe the man I loved did make me stronger, highlighted and bold-ed me like a statement. Because when the party's over, it'll be my faith in love that saves me from an empty morning. The statement that is me, expands with no end in the depths of glowing brown irises, and a tongue that speaks the same language of love. At a party, the nostalgic feeling never really tends to last, in exchange is the feeling of freedom ultimately, though. The shackles of this life can feel like four walls threatening claustrophobia, and the urge to prowl and rigorously shake this feeling off strengthens. We drink until our eyes will hang low, until the room sways to the beat of the bass. We'll smoke until clouds fill our atmosphere. It all begins with an endeavor, a lust for life. Bring it with you on a night out, and in my opinion you're all set.

There are different endeavors of course, are you searching for love? Or just the feeling of it? Maybe it isn't love you're looking for, maybe it's a drink you unfortunately can't have because you aren't of legal age yet. At the age of nineteen, I came to accept the fact I've found love completely, the endeavor's purpose wasn't to feel love at a party; it was to numb the painful memories that were brought onto me by luck that went rotten, the pieces of glass that threatened to burn out love in my life. There comes rage again, the urge that rolls in. Violence? Never. Beauty in rage is the fact that it can be radiated abundantly through art, through literature, through beautiful photos, most importantly through emotion whether it be newfound, or emotions that has become everlasting. Rage for positivity, for the beautiful moments in life. It's a constant battle, fortunately. If it's an ego you tend to, watch out in all honesty. Dangerous waters, it is you really paddle. As Kendrick Lamar preaches in an iconic track, staying humble in a setting that can sometimes be a shark tank is vitality, so cling onto it until dawn calls.

In the midst, you're in the matrix, dodging temptation back and forth. It's what I ended up doing every time, clinging onto faith, clinging onto love. Intentions I simply had were to dance, to feel excitement. The doldrums of an everyday routine can definitely wear your soul out, so to keep the light lit is what's got to be done. Anyone who falsely accuses me of any intention besides the purest simply doesn't deserve the energy I give. Another obstacle often battled is the fight for happiness itself, yet every time it's washed away we crave for it more- we yearn for it. Partying can manifest itself into a cycle that way, yet I can say for myself that this place never felt like home to me for that reason. Having the highest high be taken away from you in exchange for the daylight repeatedly is sheer robbery, a crime unassigned. The consequence of living through the night is the way people perceive you sober, thus manifesting the temptation to rage and feel alive yet again.

Later on, I realized the night life wasn't for me after all, because of the mess that's brought upon from wanting to fulfill the similar feeling to slammed fine china, or screaming at the top of my lungs. Though at the same time, I'll remember these experiences for life, and I'll smile at my youth the way youth intends to simper as well. We're better in solace, not in rage. I no longer drink heavy liquor the same in present day, so I see the difference of how I perceive emotions that whelm me. It all really depends, I can feel deeply when I drink, but there are times when I feel absolutely nothing but a sinking feeling. It's simply a game of rolling dice, really.

I don't feel this way about love, the act of falling in love. It's bigger, than this feeling of a hungover morning, it's what made me stronger without knowing at such a young age, actually. Conclusion being, I'd trade moments at parties for a conversation with... Let's call my first love, Mr. Cassanova. Perhaps to have experienced the night life would've been better with Cassanova, that way I wouldn't have felt like I missed out on moments with him, but I've gotta carry on. Life stops for nobody, so hold onto you're Cassanova if you've got him, and never make him feel like he's any less because of this temptation of nights alive. Intention is your truth, I'd have to say, so move with gratitude, with love, and turn perceived negativity into redemption for yourself, for future's past- because a party isn't even the beginning to survival, more like a temporary fix to life. Indefinitely.

- 2:53 P.M.

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written by: Mia Rose Sarmiento

5/20/21

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treadmilltreats · 3 years

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Yet another attack on a unarmed black man

So here I am writing about yet another attack on an unarmed black man. Why is it that this is a running occurrence that we constantly see over and over again with no change?

The suit, filed in the U.S. District Court for Eastern Virginia in Norfolk, claims the officers violated Nazario's constitutional rights and seeks compensatory and punitive damages.

A. It may not be a real police officer or

B. If you are a black man in this country afraid for your life (Which is every day for them)

Look, let's just tell it like it is here, sorry if the truth offends you, but here it is everyday on video for the world to see.

When he did pull over in a well lit gas station he proceeded to put his both hands out the window and asked the police calmly what he did, which by the way, is his right to do.

He kept his hands out and kept asking why he was pulled over.

The police were getting more aggressive and finally pepper sprayed him. They pulled him out, handcuffed him and searched his car, he was later released without charge.

This is unimaginable to me and yet I know it's true.

So today my friends, remember we all bleed red, we are all God's children and we need to start acting like it.

And as I say in every blog…

We must be the change we want to see.

@treadmilltreats

Be the change you want to see"

"And just when the caterpillar thought his life over...he turned into a beautiful butterfly"

**Now released my latest book**

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***Now available***

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