#sometimes you suffer for being an optimist ig

[redpenship]

okay NOW im done plotting buzzsaw 2. chapter by chapter and everything!!

[belladonnaandulriched]

the dead of night | prologue

anthrax/rush crossover. the follow up to six feet under and buried alive, but it takes place in the now it’s dark verse, thus taking it to epic levels.

now on my ao3!

“i'm afraid of the world i'm afraid i can't help it i'm afraid i can't.” -”i’m afraid of americans”, david bowie + nine inch nails

(artwork by me, josiebelladonna/badgalnirvhannah; badmotorartist on ig)

“Not sure if that was a bad dream or not,” I muttered to myself, “—I hope it was a dream.”

I rolled over in bed next to Pearl, who was still fast asleep. I thought for sure I had been done with Kristina, and I thought for sure the ghost of her hadn't haunted Charlie himself given she almost had him killed almost twenty years ago. She had vanished into thin air following that horrible night, the night in which I thought Frankie and his girlfriend at the time were both going to suffer a coronary from the reaction of it all.

I'll think about her sometimes, like she'll be a fleeting thought in my mind, especially in a time whereby anything concrete had fallen away and disintegrated into nothing. The virus had ravaged the world and shook it all down to its very foundations, and all of us in the music industry wondered what would happen from that point on out, even with the vaccine on hand.

Nothing seemed to change with it all at our helm and our finger tips, including our future. Pearl and I tried to stay optimistic for the sake of Rev, but without the sight of a stage in concrete vision before us, it was hard to keep true to the smiles on our faces.

This wasn't the first time during quarantine I dreamed about Kristina, my saving her life and telling her to stay alive for the world's sake. I would imagine her over me with the noose around her neck and I talked her down, but before she even so much as came down, I woke up. And there I was having usurped the role of the person who must stay alive for the world's sake, for the sake of my son and my band.

That time around, however, I had witnessed myself going back in time to save her for real. It was so real, and so lucid, that I convinced myself that I had done that. That I had ventured back in time to save Kristina. But I rolled my head over the pillow to see Pearl still asleep. I hadn't moved a muscle there in our bed, and I could tell Rev was up early at that point.

Careful not to wake her, I slithered out of bed and made my way down the hall to check on him. I peered into his bedroom to see he wasn't in there. I noticed the dream catcher Pearl had given him earlier that year, and I thought of Joey. There was something about dream catchers that always got to me: they captured the bad dreams only to be swept away by the morning winds, and yet there was something more about them. Something within the bad dreams, and mine in particular, that could hold the key to solving everything.

I continued to the kitchen to find him at the table eating breakfast already. Rev was growing up, even in the face of the pandemic and stuck in quarantine.

I told him good morning and I decided to check in with Frankie and Charlie at the computer.

The latter was probably busy with a quarantine jam or something because the line was busy, but Frankie picked right up, still wrapped up in his bathrobe and with those big black framed glasses on his face.

I told him about the dream about Kristina, and I told him about it in a low voice: even though I had confessed about her on my spoken word tour several years ago in Boston, Pearl still didn't know about her, and neither did Rev. I never did find the courage to speak of her to them.

“Wow,” Frankie replied in a hushed voice.

“Yeah. It was so real, too. I woke up muttering to myself and everything.”

“Huh. Do you think maybe it's a sign?”

“A sign of what?”

“A sign that you're in love with her?”

I peered over my shoulder to make sure Pearl wasn't coming for me.

“You still haven't told her about Kristina?” Frankie chuckled at that.

“Nah. I just haven't been able to, as much as we talk about shit, too. But do you—do you really think that?”

He swallowed and sighed through his nose.

“You're thinking about—” I started, to which he nodded.

“It reminds me of the time Francine went missing—” Frankie stopped for a second, and he brought a hand to his mouth. Even though he had everything he could ask for, when Francine disappeared shortly after Charlie's near death experience, it absolutely shattered him. Even after Francine had gone missing, Frankie regretted breaking it off with her, just how I swore to Joey that he could have stayed with us throughout the Nineties. She went missing right after his last girlfriend had died, which happened after his brother was murdered. Neither case was solved, and yet it gave me a window into Frankie's strength, to put on such a brave face in the wake of such horrible things.

“They never did find her, did they?” To which he shook his head.

“Kinda makes you wanna—go back in time, doesn't it.”

“Hell yeah, it does. Go back and save Kristina and find Francine.”

“There's letting go and there's something that makes you realize you can't let go,” I said.

“How the hell are we gonna do that, though?” asked Frankie; and I took a second look to find the tears within his eyes. I thought about the dream catcher in Rev's room. Maybe my intentions were right and they served more than their intended lore.

“Do you have a dream catcher on hand, Frankie?” I asked him.

“A dream catcher?”

“Yeah. You know, the thing from Native American lore that captures your nightmares and they blow away come the morning?”

“I think so. I remember Joey gave me one years and years ago, back around the Greater of Two Evils, but I'll have to look for it. I think Charlie might have one, too, I'm not sure. Why?”

“I have an idea. Lay underneath the dream catcher and go to sleep. When you wake up, try and think about what you dreamed. If it's about Francine, talk about it aloud to yourself if you have to. I'll do the same thing but with Kristina—” I almost breathed out her name. “—and maybe we can help each other out, you know?”

“Yeah. We're alive in this nightmarish time that they didn't see so it only makes sense that—we heal ourselves on some degree—”

He then turned his head and fell into silence.

“Okay,” he called out to the room. He returned to me. “I'll do that in a few minutes,” he vowed.

“A few minutes?” I echoed.

“Yeah. I'm being called back to bed.”

“Okay. I'll see you in a bit, Frankie.”

We switched off at the same time, and I stood to my feet and doubled back out of the room. Pearl and Rev were in the kitchen, which gave me a chance to head into his bedroom. I spotted the dream catcher, but there was no way I could take it for myself. Instead, I took a seat between his bed and the side of his little desk so my head was right underneath the dream catcher. I looked up at the clock on the desk. Those little hands still glowed bright even as the morning light shone through the window next to me.

I hadn't had my cup of coffee yet and thus I closed my eyes at the drop of the hat. I focused on the dream catcher over my head and I drifted off to sleep right there in Rev's room.

It felt like I wasn't asleep for very long when I woke up in an alleyway somewhere. I blinked several times to ensure I wasn't dreaming, but I fondled the ground underneath me. Grains of sand on top of smooth cobble stones. Very much real. I recognized him laying there on the ground before me.

“Frankie?” I whispered to him. He had that long lush dark hair once again, complete with the bangs, something I was not expecting in the least. Indeed, I felt something brush against the sides of my face and neck. I reached up to feel my hair. I had my long hair again.

I glanced up at the alleyway to see a short curvy woman standing on the corner up ahead. She looked familiar even from a distance. At one point, she turned around to look at me with a concerned expression upon her face. I recognized her brown eyes and her long dark hair.

“H-Hannah?” I sputtered out. Hannah Ellsberg, a girl I had recalled from around the time Spreading the Disease released: she and Joey went back to their childhoods.

“Joey!” she shouted across the street. Frankie lifted his head and let out a groan.

“God—what the hell happened?” he asked me as he lifted himself up in a push up position. I looked up to find Joey, with his long lush jet black curls over his shoulders. Even in the dim light, I could make out the sight of his full baby face. I turned back to Frankie and the perplexed look on his face.

“I think we've gone back in time.”

[passionriot]

What is ardent bliss & the struggle behind its amazing beginning

A few years ago I was on a “I’m going to make a difference in this world!” kick and thought the best way to do that would be – but of course – to make a site! Isn’t that what we do to get our voices heard now? So, I quickly ran to my desk and started coming up with ideas.

After what seemed like forever sitting in front of my computer covered in Sharpie covered post-it notes, I came up with a name. Ardent Bliss. I loved how it sounded rolling off my tongue, and I loved how it looked written out. Ardent Bliss. ardent bliss. ardentbliss.com. Everything seemed perfect for what I had envisioned in my head.

What does it mean? Let’s break it down:

ardent [ahr-dnt] adjective intensely devoted, eager, or enthusiastic; zealous: an ardent theatergoer. an ardent student of French history.

bliss [blis] noun supreme happiness; utter joy or contentment: wedded bliss.

  Ardent Bliss: the art of being passionate about being happy.

  I won’t lie, I struggle with being happy. A lot. As someone who suffers from both depression and anxiety, it’s hard for me to always be content with where I am, who I am, and my path. BUT. I am also optimistic… to a fault, really. I always look at the bright side of things, and I am always sure that there are a million and four different reasons to love life and love yourself if you just look hard enough.

My passion in life has always been to help. To sympathize, to empathize (and oof! do I do that a lot), and to share my stories and my thoughts to let you know that you are not alone. When I was growing up I wanted to be a teacher. And then an author. And then a therapist. And then a photographer. All of these were fueled by the need to help the people I come in contact with and maybe change their outlook on – well – everything. I wanted to help.

And so, with inspiration from sites such as Hello Giggles and Brave Girls Club, the idea of Ardent Bliss was born. I wanted to create a site based on self love and positive living, where you could find inspiring blog posts, articles, and pretty graphics with loving quotes all in one place. It would be my happy little footprint in the world.

Great, right? So if this all happened years ago, why is it not already an internet sensation that you see getting reposted on Facebook over and over?

Firstly, I’m a bit of a procrastinator. Alright, I’m like the Queen Procrastinator in the world of New Ideas. I kept putting it off, because the idea itself seemed great, but there was so much to do in order to get it going. I’m pretty sure I got as far as creating a Facebook Page (which is collecting dust) and putting a tiny “Coming Soon!” sign up on the site itself. And there it sat.

Secondly, if I’m being completely honest… My self doubt was throwing a huge party in my head. This is just going to be a silly thing that you’re going to grow bored up and it will never amount to anything so why even bother? it said. There are already HUGELY popular and successful sites that are doing EXACTLY what you want to do – and they’re obviously doing it better than you ever will… so why even bother? they laughed. Seriously, my brain can be a raging bitch sometimes.

So, I took the easy way out and made a little instagram account and posted some pretty pictures with nice quotes on them and called it a day.

Safe. Done. Moving on.

But that need didn’t ever really go away. That idea had nestled herself on a couch in the corner of the Self-Hate party that was raging in my head, and she was playing with a cute little cat and wasn’t moving anywhere. That idea was quiet and a bit of a wallflower, but she was still there.

Fast forward to a few weeks ago when I had just uprooted my entire life and moved 1300 miles away from where I’ve always called home. My mental stability started to be in serious question, and I started feeling lost and confused and lonely and everything just kind of was tossed up in the air.

Suddenly, it hit me like a ton of bricks.

This whole ardent bliss idea? This whole movement that I wanted to create for the world? It wasn’t just to make a difference in someone’s life. It was to make a difference in MY life! Who the f*ck cares if there are a million different sites out there doing what I want to do? The point isn’t to be the first. The point is to do something that means something TO ME. I need this project. I mean, it would be absolutely fantastic if it turned into the next New Thing, but I need this for myself. 

And so, I am starting. It’s far from being ready at this point in time, but the gears are turning and the project is in motion and it’s fun. Last night was the first night in longer than I can remember where I couldn’t sleep – not because I was filled with anxiety about whatever my brain was worried about – but because it was filled with ideas. Swirling and growing.

That little wallflower idea at that Self Hate party being thrown in my head has become the Belle of the ball and she is SLAYING, people.

I cannot. Wait.

{PS, if you’re looking to maybe show some AB love, you can visit me at @ardentbliss on IG, or visit www.ardentbliss.com and subscribe for news.}

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