#note: I genuinely apologize to anyone who decided to read this word vomit

[a-spell-a-rebel-yell]

be that as it May

hellooo, friends foes and strangers alike! using this title for a tumblr post for second time running and i'm actually early by one day (it's May 30th, so yep) genuinely proud of myself :) hahahaha

well, this post i think it's gonna be a monthly-journal-and-a-serious-note one... a word vomit guaranteed, so apologies in advance and bear with me. May was yet another rollercoaster but in another context i can't disclose yet (and not sure when i can let the secret out in the open or confirm/deny the rumors lol but for 2nd time: it’s not me getting engaged ok 🤣 i don’t even have anyone in mind) but yeah the highlight: not getting coldplay Jakarta ticket.

i'm so damn livid at so many things like 😭😭😭😭😭 first of all the scalpers deliberately buying the tickets just so they can resell it in exorbitant prices, the FOMO crowd for taking my spot as an actual coldplay fan (though i'm not nearly as mad as i am at the scalpers because well, they just want to see the band that i also happen to love), and the coldplay management team for planning a stupid Asia/Oceania leg tour route that doesn't make sense (who the hell decided to go for only a day at Jakarta then straight to Perth which is miles away and then back to Malaysia?)

anyways i'm counting on people suddenly having other events or important business to attend to so there will be tickets i can buy secondhand. not going to appease scalpers by panic buying i want to see them suffer a huge loss and will be rendered to resort selling it half price on d-day or something. i feel like i deserve the tickets so bad the concert day is literally eleven days before my birthday in November 😭 i know i can make it happen i WILL see my band like i did last time!!! 😤

the remainder of May is just me working on the project, preparing stuffs and literally running all over Jakarta to get things done, me overthinking, nothing new (read: clowning as always) not trying to be cryptic but just like coldplay said in Speed of Sound: "every chance that you get is the chance you seize." wish me luck, pals!

my Brisbane based cousin who's going to get married in August sent us the fabric needed to make the outfit for the special day and i'm getting even more hyped up!!! it's not me who's going to say my vows and tie my life to the other half of my soul but i'm super happy. can't wait for Bandung trip 2.0 yippeee

okay here we're entering the serious note territory... for once, for so long, i'm letting myself to just let go of the words. kinda sure some of you have probably caught on, or thought i'm a daft dimbo for this but yes: it's about him. on May 25th, two years ago i spoke to him for the very last time. full reassurance from my part to say that no, it's not about me not being able to move on or blah blah blah, it's quite the opposite actually.

writing this down, on here, feels like some sort of purge. it's not in a bad way either, i am glad i can finally talk about it openly, with no sense of remorse or regret or hatred or resentment. right now, after two years of as much space and time given to think and process it through, remembering him and the days that build the very core of memories i still keep in my mind feels like rereading my favorite book.

it's like me and him are just some other characters that i cheer and cherish for, i long and support and yearn for, and the story ends with a nice closure chapter. a complete book. to me personally, it's like reading Harry Potter. such a huge part of my life, yet i'm no longer there.

i no longer stutter or taken aback or get the chills whenever something in the present pulls me back into a particular memory of him. i embrace it with open arms and with a smile on my face. i reread my last letter to him and actually edited it (my editor self is just, you know, being an editor) i'm as unabashed and unbothered to open my old chats with him (i kinda cheated oops sorry if you read this lmao i just never feel the need to delete the chats because let's be fr i don't need to reread it, i still can recall what we talked about just from memory. that's me and my insanely biased brain, ha!) and actually laugh and cringe (mostly on my part, because it was so clear i tried to catch his attention by doing literally everything omg i was so embarrasing 🤣😭😂) (also for disclaimer, i never opened our chatrooms, not until this month, so i also kinda kept my part of the agreement) but it's fun nonetheless. nothing that happened between us will ever tarnish or alter the fact that i was genuinely happy and the joy filled memories will always be there.

it's a bit hilarious how my 'strategy' is to avoid him like a plague. left zero gap for any chance to even get a glimpse of him or his life. basically two years of absolutely nothing of him (except for some weird twist like how his mum and my mum are still members of the same whatsapp group, though they don't interact much) in a glance it does seem like i'm trying to run away from reality, but i swear it's just my way of dealing with problem at hand, since i suppose fourteen years worth of feelings can't be extinguished in a lazy attempt with feeble manner. yet that doesn't mean i'm gonna play pretend and fake an amnesia, i still think about him sometimes. i guess it's just part of being human, with weaknesses and all.

you've probably wondered, yes: i still do love him with all my heart. just in a different way, and for sure, from far away. see what i'm talking about? he's just like an endearing fictional character you have grown to love and will always be with you (yes i'm a huge Potterhead lol) it's platonic, sometimes familial love, just constantly running in the background. i always do that to the people i regard highly in my life, so again, nothing new.

i still count him as one of my selected few best friends though imprudent and tactless he can be because he sometimes is also the voice of reason to my farfetched always anxious self (also because he knows too much of my secrets thanks to me being biased and a pathological overshare-r) if God ever made destiny to make another funny turn, i would've liked us to be an actual, functional, supportive friends. long live the friends!

Nietzsche is right about without forgetting it's quite impossible to live at all, but i digress. if you’ve watched Eternal Sunshine of Spotless Mind, you’ll know what i’m talking about; i guess at some point things just don't have any explanation (yet) of why it happens ever so, you just carry on with it. archiving it somewhere in a vault.

so. even though i know he will never read this... hey you, i just want to say i'm so grateful to have you as friend, though things don't always go smoothly. honored to have been graced by your presence in my life, though just for a limited time as it is. i hope you're always happy, healthy, and loved!

phew, i got super emotional. maybe because it's been two years, i can't believe i managed to stand for what is right this long! (and will continue to do so) i am here from all the things i've gone through :) yet another coldplay quote because i just love this band so much, and i think this song is my song. please read the lyrics as you listen to it, best feeling ever.

it's cathartic, a form of healing, alleviating, to put these, all my feelings, out in the open. this is what i live with and it is my life. i'm content with how everything is going and i think it's all settled now, all good. now full throttle focusing on the project, if things go my way, i'll tell you guys all about it on my July post. see you then! 💙

[gemmassong]

So uh. It’s 4:17am and I know literally no one cares but I just finished watching Bo Burnham’s new special and like, holy shit. I have some Feelings. And this is my fucking tumblr so unfortunately anyone who follows me can and will be subjected to those Feelings. Apologies in advance. I blame my high school English teacher for this, who I had for freshmen, junior, and senior year, because that cunt made as analyze and pick apart not just books but documentaries, movies, and other pieces of media to such an extreme degree I still blame her for a lot of my academic burnout and inability to really engage with my college courses because what was the fucking point. If I could write the best paper in the class and still not get a full score when my classmates with less well written shit did because I ‘wasn’t reaching my full potential or putting in as much effort as required’ why should I bother. 

Off topic. I’ll put the rest under a cut to be vaguely courteous because this is going to be a lot of semi-organized rambling that I’m putting here mostly so I can stare at it in baffled, disgusted horror at ~2pm tomorrow when I go back and reread it. And then decide not to delete it anyway because hey, I don’t delete anything because I enjoy tormenting myself years down the road.

I grew up with Bo Burnham, yeah? I knew all the lyrics to New Math when I was in middle school and you can bet your ass I understood like, four verses at the time I first started singing it. And I remember the vivid pleasure of going through high school and hating math because I suck at it (ayooo failed out of Calc senior year first semester~ (they weren’t called semesters in hs they were some quarterly thing but I don’t fucking remember the right term)) and the absolute joy realizing how one of those verses were clever was brought me. Like, every time I understood a new verse in New Math it made my entire day so much better. 

And then the summer after my first year of college I, for some fucking reason I cannot fathom now, 20 year old me thought it was a brilliant idea to decide to watch What. with my parents while we ate dinner. I had seen What. before. I knew what the contents entailed. I was apparently 100% down to watch him pretend to jack off on stage while eating taco salad in the living room with both of my parents who were so closed mouthed about sex that I got literally my entire sexual education from fanfiction. 

And then my cat had a seizure literally right before that scene so fate helped me escape that hell for some reason, and yes, Siren was fine after a very scary night.

But like. Still. What the fuck, 20 year old me. Why did you set yourself up for the mortifying experience of watching a comedian mime jacking off while sitting next to your mother. Why. 

So anyway. Bo Burnham was peripherally a part of my life for a very long time. I’ve always really liked him. I wish he had made more vines while vine was still a thing because the ‘is there anything better than pussy’ one still cracks me tf up. 

I saw a post here at some point about how the new special made someone feel like they’d just watched his suicide note. And I didn’t take it seriously, because yeah, Make Happy got kinda serious and stressful there at the end but like? 

Maaaaan am I glad I watched Inside though, despite being vaguely concerned. I totally get where that person was coming from. It does kinda feel like that. At the same time though, I just have this feeling that Inside is going to be important. 

Here’s where I finally get to the actual fucking point of the post.

Collectively, entertainment media is desperately trying right now to figure out how the hell to handle the pandemic. Ignore it? Pretend all media now exists in a universe where the shitstorm of 2020 didn’t exist? Most of the ones that I’ve seen have gone down what I consider the absolute worst route, which is of course terrible fucking writing that kind of? addresses the pandemic and shit that went down, but like, with clunky dialogue and really bad jokes. I’m mostly talking about the Roseanne spinoff/sequel/whatever the fuck it’s considered, of which I watched half an episode of and then silently begged my fiance to let us leave his mother’s house because she was laughing at it and it was genuinely, horrifically painful. This is why I don’t watch tv anymore. 

ANYWAY. He never mentions it. Not once. There are plenty of really relevant things discussed and pointed out and I think one? mention of the actual year 2020 but beyond that. Nothing. And I feel like Inside might be one of the most genuine, visceral, real pieces of media portraying the pandemic that we, as an American society anyway, are going to come away from this all with. At least everyone in my own admittedly piss poor social circles has spent like last ~year and a half doing that social media thing where the more you post about how well you’re doing and great it all is, the more miserable and bad off you really are.

(Yes, that is how I judge my ‘friends’’ relationships on facebook. The more pictures/posts/tagged shit/social media demonstrations of how ~amazing~ and ~in love~ and ~perfect~ everything is, the worse I assume the reality is.)

But Inside strikes as very, very real. And I just feel like 20 30 40 50 years from now, when we’re talking about the 2020 pandemic and how it shaped and shifted and effected and destroyed people and society, it’s going to be a very important piece of media. Because so far, anyway, it’s the first one I’ve seen where you can actually see it all go down. The absolute fucking breakdown so many of us went through. Dealing with worsening mental problems that had previously been getting better, lost progress, ruined plans and dreams and missed opportunities and everything else. 

It’s the first one that strikes as real, I guess. As not manufactured. Not tailored to portray the ‘correct’ message. Not diminishing or exaggerating anything but just... showing. Existing within the reality of the year. And not being apologetic or ashamed about it. 

I’m glad he actually went through with putting it out into the world. That probably took a whole lot to do, and I hope good things get to him for going through with it all. For completing it and giving it to the world. It was visceral and raw to watch and my piss poor attention span that needs 20+ tabs open at all times actually sat there and watched it, in full, all the way through in one go. Without pausing to read a fic, watch something else, check facebook or tumblr, answer a roleplay, or skim through omegle to see if anyone good was online. That’s like, unheard of these days.

I just. I dunno. There’s a lot there to breakdown. A part of me wants to do it, take the time and write the analysis and the breakdowns and pick out what I think the important bits are. But I hate doing that now and I’m sure the desire will be gone come afternoon-morning, along with all these weird feelings about it. 

This has gotten long enough and it’s 4:47 now, so half an hour of word vomiting into a tumblr post is probably too much. So I guess I’ll call it quits and maybe maybe not delete this when I wake up. Night, anyone who actually suffered through reading this mess.

[sincerelylen]

Word Vomit Ahead - Note to Myself

I decided to come on Tumblr due to the recent eruption of feeling lost with the current state of the world and this recent domino effect of emotions and personal issues that have forced me into a state of self reflection in order to keep my sanity.

This returning to Tumblr and this almost "foreign" feeling of scrolling through this app and interacting with its community makes me very nostalgic for 10 years ago - nostalgic especially to my loss of passion for storytelling.

I've read through reviews that have asked me to continue and finish stories I had written so long ago, but I can barely remember the direction my chaotically imaginative mind wanted me to go in the first place...

I want to finish those works, I really do, but it's so hard to start again from a middle that abruptly stopped due to the loss of passion in the first place.

Somehow, I also lost a big piece myself with that loss of passion and this inner self-destructive mindset took over and pulled me from the path of creativity that I had so dearly enjoyed.

Life and its curveballs has this uncanny ability to knock you down and keep you pinned down. It truly is a formidable opponent to a successful or even happy ending.

Gosh, I am rambling, but really, how long has it been since I typed out a mindless rant on this blank canvas that is Tumblr? I've missed it. I've missed the opportunity for creativity. I've missed the inspiration of the fascinating creativity of this community (though the trolls I can definitely do without...).

And I hope, returning to this app, finding inspiration through gorgeous art, the exploration of plotlines and development, and the shared love of a hobby or muse, will help me find my creative spark again.

It's an ongoing process. But hopefully, a goal is reached by the end of it.

If you still follow me, I hope you're well. Thank you to anyone who ever took the time to check in with me. I admit to my sudden and swift abandonment of those who were genuinely interested in my works and I apologize for my ghosting. At the time, my self-removal from writing had been needed.

Baby steps. Have no fear. Remember. And embrace this part of my life with fondness and reverence.

Hello, Len. It's good to see you again.

[cawwriting]

Demons and Coffee SFW

((A big thank you to @demigosh for their commission, this was so much fun to write! this was a flash commission and i still have 4 spots open so pm me for details!)

For any good story to be told it is suggested to have a protagonist, someone who throughout some personal downfall betters themselves and becomes some sort of heroine type figure- a character that the unknowing audience could possibly look up to and even admire. However why does every story need this? The answer is they dont, my fantastical labyrinth of words surely will not. However, we will have a boy, he will remain unnamed for the sake of remaining ambiguous and debatably headache inducing. Said boy looks tired, as if his eyelids are permanently fixed to the halfway point in his eyes, and his lips look ancient as if they were never made to open, they are dry like mystical ruins covered by dunes of sand.His hair however changes the game, his hair completely flips the game over and destroys it. His hair is like that flavour of lollipop- what was it? Blue raspberry? That's not a fucking flavour and his hair can't possibly be this colour- but it is and will continue to be. His cheeks contrast his chapped lips and lidded eyes by showing a nice rosey color, it was the only way to show he could be considered alive. If it weren't for the color in his cheeks you may believe he were among the living dead in which his society holds many of and which his mind held zero of.

While his mind did not hold the living dead it did hold an animated evil, something never meant to inhabit this boy. Now i will introduce to you a girl, also unnamed for reasons semi-identical to the boy- well not really. Her name is secret even to me and the only person living who even knows the syllables of her title is the boy from before. However, let's take a moment to note the girl’s characteristics- though only the boy can actually see the blinding rainbow vomit of color which is of the female variety. Her hair is just as fake in coloration except hers is real, the shoulder length bubblegum pink has lovely curls in random spots, the curves and edges almost absolutely were artificial. A horn slides from the upper middle part of her forehead and her sharp teeth murmur whispers of death to anything caught between them. Her ears pointed out like branches from a tree, catching breezes of noise in them.

Onto the story, the gorgeous tapestry painted by my typing fingers, the forced meeting of a boy and a boy, of which was made possible by a cherry blossom colored demon who will continue to reign unnamed. A spilled coffee and an unusually perky apology from a boy who never speaks. A date. Enough of this! Its story time! Buckle in kiddos it's gonna get gay.

~

A boy walks down a broken sidewalk covered in crunchy leaves, each step calling out in sound and smell. The wind held a soft remembrance of sun, warmth mixing with the cool air to gently prick the skin on his rosey cheeks and dull features. He cleared his throat, walking along with one hand slid into his jacket pocket and the other holding a latte from his local cafe- he had just taken his leave from this place and was getting ready to go straight back home and hop onto the internet for his daily dose of indirect social interaction. However he had this pain in his head, one he knew all too well was not a headache- and then he saw her- the headache faded and he sighed in a frustration that showed he was well enough tired of her antics and shenanigans. The girl. The demon. “Heyyy!!!” Her voice was high pitched and not all that unpleasant for the normal ear- though no one else could hear her. However, this voice for the boy was nails on chalkboard, fork to plate if i must. He tried pretending she wasn't just floating circled around him and begging to be noticed. Eventually his anger got the best of him and he halted his steps, glaring daggers at the girlish figure who had stopped her cycle of rotations to listen to what he had to say, seeming almost giddy for his words. “Shut. up. Leave me alone.” He grumbled quietly, wanting to seem normal at least in public, speaking to her outright in front of others could get him admitted and that wouldn't end well for him or his demon.

Her face sinks and she whined out like a child who didn't get their way, arms crossing tightly over her chest as she now hovered in front of his face. “I'm bored!!!! I want to have some fun! You never leave your stupid house! Come on let's do something!” She insisted excitedly, nearly bouncing up and down as her craving for excitement grew. She turned upside down showing off her toothy grin and flicked his nose, earning a hand swat and a heavier look of annoyance. “No.” was all he had to say on the matter.  He then pushed past her and started walking again, her left behind a moment before finally she caught up to what he said and hurried after him. “But, but-” She started, only for him to cut her off. “No-”

He glanced his eyes down at the foliage covered concrete so he could speak to her quietly without anyone else noticing he was, he felt he needed to be discreet. He swallowed back to wet his dry throat and then also ducked his tounge from his mouth a moment to wet his lips before speaking. “Look- I don't need any excitement, raising a cat and babysitting you is far more than enough excitement fo-” She looked as if she was about to cut him off so he cut his eyes at her as to make sure she stayed quiet before he noticed she listened. She was quiet, but her lips had split into a long devious grin, her arms crossing again and she looked away. He looked up and raised an eyebrow, “Wha-” That was when he crashed into someone- god she planned this didn't she. He fell back onto his ass, squeaking out as hot coffee spilled onto both him and the poor victim of his Demon’s spite.

“I was going to tell you to watch out.. Hehe… but it seems you didn't want me to interrupt!!!” She was laughing pretty hard now though it was only annoying to the one person that could hear her- god she sounded like a hyena. He did his best to ignore the demon and scrambled to his feet to help the other male up. He was wearing a green apron with a name tag that read ‘James’ and all around them on the ground was soil and most likely ruined flowers drenched in coffee. The boy’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment and he grabbed his hand to help James to his feet, spitting out apologies faster than a woodchipper spits out scraps. “I am so sorry i really should have been watching where i was going oh no your flowers are ruined coffee cant be good for them oh no i'm so-” He got cut off by the florist. “Its okay, I have more- it was just a silly accident.”

James, the florist, gave a smile to the boy to make sure he knew that all was forgiven. He just seemed so genuine, light sandy hair floating in the breeze and freckled cheeks easily warmed by the little sun there was. The boy was silent, swallowing down any more apology he had to throw as a girl slid up behind him and giggled, sliding arms over his shoulder. “Get his number, come on, come on, come on!!!” it was the demon. Ugh.  He wa frozen for a moment, worrying James who tilted his head and asked if he were okay. James’ words snapped the boy from his frozen state and caused him to start rummaging through his book bag for napkins. “Here! I-uh I have napkins!!” He spouted, pulling a handful out only to have the torrent wind swipe them from his fingertips and within moments having them out of sight. “Uh Uh-” He was freezing up again, coffee growing cold on his body and making him shiver, god this was hard and his demon was not making it any easier- she was bouncing around him and cheering like a cheerleader that he should date James and how he should at least get his number. She loved shipping him with strangers and this had to be a scene out of one of her fanfictions she enjoyed so much.

He was ruining his chance and she was angry about it, something needed to be done before he lost his chance with the rather cute florist. She didn't do this often because it exhausted both her and the boy but hell! Drastic times call for drastic measures and if this wasn't a drastic time then what was? She slid into his body and his eyes glowed pink for a moment as she took over control, once she had control though she got him to smile and help the florist pick up the other things that he had dropped. He kept him rather quiet but much more relaxed as he walked with James to his flower shop so they could both clean up and get warm. It wouldn't be long until they were laughing about the mishap and introducing themselves to one another. And by the tie she decided her time in the body was up the boy held a ripped piece of paper, a corner from a receipt perhaps?  With James’ number on it.

She wouldn't release control of his body though until they were finally back in his small apartment, him immediately collapsing onto his bed and groaning out in pain. Possession was never a pleasant experience for either of them. She was doubled over across the room from him, whimpering softly before yawning- she then realized just how tired she was and decided to go back to being unseen, causing him a light headache that lasted about thirty seconds, By the time he was recovered she wasn't present for him to yell at. He believed her shipping antics and possession were completely unwarranted, sure the man had been cute but he most likely was straight or already was taken. How embarrassing. He wished he could remember just what was said, but he was just left with a slip of paper with some numbers on it.

He made his way out of bed and threw off his book back, jacket, and soiled shirt, leaving him in a partially dry tank top- in which he worked over to his desk to plop down and open up his laptop. Ooh a notification! The boy wonders if it is one of his three internet friends but when he finally arrives at the notifications source he is disappointed to find it is not. It's not a message but a friend request.

[James Hareild is has sent you a friend request accept?]

He groaned quietly but couldn't be rude, this guy probably really got hit on today by your possessed body. And after a day like this rejecting the friend request and just pushing today aside may not be an option. He would have to talk to ‘her’ later about this crazy invasion of privacy and boundaries. Oh well let's get this over with.

[James Hareild is now your friend]

Now that there is nothing more to do he closes his laptop and glances around his dim room, it was messy with food bags on the stained carpet and none of his clothing was even close to being in the closet. Was this becoming an unhealthy lifestyle? Yes. Does he care? No. This is something he has grown used to, there was no one to actually impress, he had no friends to show his ‘sweet crib’ to so why keep it tidy? Or at least this was his thinking on the matter. God a nap sounds good, even if his bed is covered in crumpled papers and discarded clothing, he decided a nap is what he will get. He is on his way, stepping to bed when the familiar ache in his head showed that ‘she’ was in his home again and visible. “Yes?” He called out, not seeming the happiest with her right now.

Her smile grew big and sharp again as she plopped down on the edge of the bed to look up at him, she seemed completely recharged, the opposite of himself. “Wellll!!! I thought you may want to know you have a date Saturday! You'll meet the flower boy at that silly cafe you like so much!” Her voice was just as excited as when they were walking down the concrete slabs earlier that morning- it was late afternoon now. The boy however was not amused and would not be amused, he refused to find any of this as a positive toward his normal routine. He liked the pattern he had made for himself and this random ‘ship possession’ was highly intrusive. “I can't go.” He said simply, causing her to pout and huff like a child. “What!!! And why not?!” She squeaked, seeming genuinely offended by this progression of events.

He rolled his eyes and decided he would play along at least for the moment, “I haven't even called him yet, why would I  go on a date with him? “ he then got serious, joking time was over and he focused his look on her. “I don't even know what was said while you were possessing me- which was highly uncalled for by the way!”He was scolding now and she just seemed to be sitting there and taking all of it with a grain of salt, almost as if she were proud of herself, or maybe self-important. She then stood and sauntered up to him, swaying her hips as a more serious look settled into her bright and usually energetic eyes. “Well… if you found a way to rid yourself of life and give me your soul we wouldn't have this predicament would we?” Her voice instead of the streaky glass it sounded like was smooth and echoed in the room, causing the lights to flash around him.

This all would scare someone who wasn't used to it, but he had accidentally summoned this demon many years ago and this behavior was nothing new for him. He merely crossed his arms and raised a brow- “Are you done yet? These theatrics aren't really your style and they don't fit you at all” His voice was just as smooth in a mocking kind of way but it had  no echo and did not cause electrical anomalies. She in reaction to this began laughing and laughing before wiping a tear away from her eye and nodding, “Yeah haha, you're right i guess.” And with that and a slight head pain she was gone again. He rolled his eyes and slid his pants down, then laying on top of his covers and deciding to get some rest, she would surely continue to torment him tomorrow until he agreed to go on the date so he knew sleep would be for the best. His eyes slid closed and finally rest consumed his consciousness.