#tumblr is like my diary where I rant and rage

[ecileh]

writing

Dragon Age

Solavellan WIP — there’s no way I could serialize this, to be posted when complete

BG3

Dissonant Whispers (AO3) 7/17 and 3/7 — Dark Urge/Gortash + Dark Urge/Astarion + Dark Urge/Cazador — It’s villain fucking. And very dead dove. Inspired by gothics with diaries/letter fragments, the concept of being haunted by memories you will never remember.

ACOTAR

A Court of Rage and Fire (AO3) 22/? — Neris + Azris (Nezris? Azrista?) — Nesta ditching the IC, accepting Eris Vanserra’s marriage proposal, and becoming a death goddess in a polycule with Azriel while fighting a civil war. (mostly setting off all the chekhov’s guns SJM forgot about)

Fireless (AO3) 2/ — Azris — Prequel to ACORAF but stands alone as canon-compliant backstory, the story of star-crossed lovers Eris and Azriel during the first war against Hybern.

Queen of Harlots (AO3) 11/? — Nesta/basically everyone — Porn with plot full-series rewrite in which Nesta actually goes through with doing sex work to feed her family at the beginning of ACOTAR.

Nesta and the Mercenary (AO3) (Tumblr) — Nesta’s journey to try to rescue Feyre from the Wall, because it’s headcanon to me that she had a *thing* with that merc. Edited from QoH to stand alone.

You (AO3) (Tumblr) — absolutely deranged Azriel POV where he’s such a nice guy that it comes full circle to him being a misogynist stalker freak. Inspired by Joe Goldberg of You.

Original extremely unserious outline of ACORAF (Tumblr)

Feyre teaches Nesta how to paint when Feyre comes home in ACOTAR (Tumblr) — Excerpt from QoH edited to stand alone.

Neris bratty chess sex (Tumblr) — Excerpt from ACORAF for Neris week.

The Autumn Corp (AO3) (Tumblr) — Neris rivals/office smut in Succession-esque modern AU. Not that good but I wrote it in like an hour on my lunch break for Neris Week.

ACOTAR Meta

Illyrians should be mothmen, not bat boys

The Azris Manifesto: or, the importance of protecting queer ships in fanfiction

Why “Bad Girls” like Nesta and Amren don’t get to keep their powers

Another “Good Girl” rant

Beron is part human?

Elain might be devious and that’s not a bad thing and in fact makes me like her better than if she were completely willfully helpless (Textual evidence)

[s0ngsandstars]

Fuck it, I need to get this out somewhere. Personal home life vent/rant, Tumblr is a diary sometimes, etc. I'm a wreck of anxiety and fear and just.. yeah..

tw abuse, domestic violence, threats of violence, brief talk about a house fire and the aftermath, gun mention

I'm concerned about myself and my family. My father has really bad anger problems, and when he's raging he's completely irrational. It's gotten worse since he poorly manages his diabetes. This past year, he's purchased a gun, and luckily he was smart enough that it's not put together and it's in a case, but it doesn't stop him from threatening us with the possible use of it on us.

I don't think I'm actually safe here. I'm afraid. I'm so afraid that one day his threats will turn into more than just threats. I have nightmares a lot in which he actually shoots or stabs us, or where he lights a match and sets the house ablaze like he's threatened on multiple occasions. We lost a lot of our possessions when I was 4 to a house fire, which I remember it and the aftermath, how my room was charred black and nothing inside of it remained, so this threat hit really hard.

I'm.. I'm so tired.. of all the yelling, of the screaming. I can't stand hearing him throw things while my mom yells for him to stop. Where I sleep is right next to their room. It's awful. He yells and screams at people every single day. Multiple times a day.

I'm also so tired of being called useless, entitled, ungrateful, disrespectful, fucking lazy bitch for things even as simple as not liking the same food as him. I've been made to feel like a leech, as though any resource I take is a waste. I don't even want to eat most of the time because I've been made to believe that I'm not worth enough to eat the food here. (I do not have an eating disorder. If I were not living here, I would have no problems eating food.)

I'm just.. I'm so tired of walking on eggshells to appease a man that will yell at us for even trying to be helpful. He yells at us when we try to help him, and then wonders why we won't. We'll get yelled at either way, we might as well just do what we want to do instead of do something we don't want and get yelled at the entire time anyway.

We can do everything right and it won't be enough. Everything can be perfect and he'll still find the pixel out of place to berate us about. It's never good enough.

And I want to get out of here. We're trying to get out of here. But we're disabled and rely fully on others for financial needs, so for us at this moment it's impossible to leave. And since our mom's the main target of the physical abuse, and she's not willing to press charges, we can't get the police involved in any way that'll actually be helpful..

We just have to either get to where we can move out, or we have to wait for him to do something so horrid that we're forced to call the police, and just.. I hate it so much.. I hate it so much....

Once I'm out of here though, I'm never talking to my father again. He's caused too much pain for me to want to communicate with him once I've left.

And like, I know in some ways I'm lucky. It could be so much worse. People have it far worse than I do. I've been told over and over and over how I'm not that bad off. jfc even when we were on food stamps and barely scraping by and my only pair of gym shoes was a gift from my teacher, I was being told I was a spoiled child and how I was lucky. But my god I don't think I deserve this. I might have it better than a number of others in abusive situations but that doesn't mean that I'm doing fucking great either. Fuck if I know if the "it's not that bad" is just the probable gaslighting talking or not. ljndfljndgkjdfgn (sobs) I get audio from videos my mom watches about people in far worse situations blared at me all the time and it makes me feel grateful that it's not that bad at least, and it also makes me so sad that people go through things, and just.. idk.. idk.... I don't want to hear it anymore..

[garrothromeave]

the hell is mystreet season 6??

(warning, long post ahead)

ok so before i start this

1) ive never posted shiiiit on tumblr before so watch me suffer, im just here to talk about stuff that my friends who dont know anything about aphmau have to listen to me rant about for hours on end

2) i havent seen mystreet in like years (except season 3, i watch that frequently since im laurance and shadow knight deprived) so please bear with me because i might be completely wrong on this lol. it’s just like, pointing out things i remember

3) im sure someones already talked about this but who cares

4) im gonna do this stupid thing where i just explain myself a bit at first, if you dont want to read that just skip to the part where you see “the actual thingy:” in bold and italics 

5) mild disclaimer; i am completely aware that jessica is not a professional writer. i know that she did her best to appeal to her fans, and honestly, respect for that. while this post will come off as aggressive and probably look like hate, that’s not my intention in the slightest. it’s just... intense criticism. im sure y’all probably already know that, but yeah, just stating that anyways. i do believe that jess is doing her best, and in no way do i want to dismiss any hard work she’s done. that being said; prepare for a very strongly opinionated post.

haha watch there be 10000+ typos in this making me look like a complete dumbass

ok here we go 

one of the main reasons i stopped watching aphmau back in 2017 was the mess that was season 4. like, in the first few episodes of the emerald secret, i thought “woah!! this is kinda cool, im a sucker for mystery!” because of course i was, it was something new and something exciting. the only problem i had with it at the time was kim, but that’s just because i always found her annoying and out of place. i just didn’t understand why garroth dragged her along and honestly i still don’t to this day BUT, moving on.

anyways, as the season progressed, 13 year old me was of course just “:0!!” the entire time--that is, up until the reveal of the main villain. i remember watching the episode, seeing the reveal of ein, and then stopping. like, just for a quick break, but i was still just overwhelmingly disappointed. like, and this was the time when pdh was airing and ein just got made alpha (i think?) and i had really really liked eins character in pdh. either way, that really sucked and actually opened my eyes to a lot of things.

one of the main things bein’ the fact that this was supposed to be a slice of life kinda series that decided to take a turn to a more edgy kinda approach. which, i guess i regularly wouldnt mind? but seeing as mcd was kinda bein neglected at the time it just didnt sit right with me. BUT WHATEVER, point is i stopped watching mystreet all together at the end of season 4.

like, a whole year later my brother tells me that shit’s getting intense in season 5 + 6 of mystreet, and my brilliant self decided to give it a shot--but i refused to watch all of season 5, so i only stepped in when ein made an appearance. so whenever that was, that’s where i picked up because i didnt care enough to see 

and y’know--i honestly didn’t hate it at first. in fact, i found it oddly cool. it wasn’t enough to get me into aphmau again, but it was enough to where i was intrigued. i dont know why, but i never watched the finale, so i didnt see the ending until just a few weeks ago--but back then, i thought it was neat. looking back on it however... im just so confused. 

side note: only got back into aphmau this time around because of mcd. mainly because like, i adore the first season and the first half of the second season. and being nearly 18 now, im a lot more appreciative of plot and well-written characters n junk. 

the actual thingy:

ok back on track. imma stop spilling out my story of how i got back into aphmau, and lets just skip to what rewatching mcd made me realize of season 6′s plot and shit:

-emmalyn. how the fuck does ghost even remotely exist? if she’s emmalyn as claimed, then why have we already seen emmalyn in the mystreet universe alive? look i get that creators can do whatever they want with their stories but at the same time please provide some sort of explanation good god. and maybe they did and i just havent seen it, so if there is one--let me know. but until that day imma just sit here confused as fuck

-ok so imma just be real, the whole ‘ultima’ thing is just... not great. in my opinion, anyways. like... i saw someone mention this in another post, but if this ultima stuff was like, a really big deal, why isnt it mentioned in mcd? though i suppose since its a curse of sorts, it could be later on past the time period in which mcd takes place--but even then, how did it manage to make its way into aaron’s family bloodline? 

-WHY IS EVERYONE AT STARLIGHT ITS JUST SO CONVINIENT like what happened to this place being the most expensive shit on the planet or whatever, and how the gang happens to run into like, the werewolf trio and blaze and kai and guy and nate all of these people like god damn life doesnt WORK LIKE THAT 

-im sorry but turning people into relics? thats... thats the best you could come up with? plus, like, how does that even work? in mcd it’s established that relics are separate entitles that choose their wielder, based on a ‘personal’ connection (being a descendent of a previous wielder) or if they’re a good match personality and (i think?) moral wise. so the whole turning-people-into-relics doesnt make much sense to be honest. 

-irene really over here using her god powers to only keep her friends alive like god damn not a great god if you ask me 

-can i talk about how incredibly predictable aphmaus death was? like i just kinda sat there waiting for it to happen and when it did i literally went “haha! wonder when she’ll be revived” because god forbid we actually kill off characters 

-when aphmau + demon warlock fought in the irene dimension there was no passage of time whatsoever in the real world whiiiiiiiiich really bothers me because they fought in there for at least a few minutes

-speaking of aphmau and the demon warlocks fight does it bother anyone else that it had to be aaron who took over the fight?? like we get it hes the big protector blah blah blah but god damn it wouldve been cooler if aphmau had fought this battle as her. aaron fighting this battle was so underwhelming

-...love. like, thats the only thing thats needed to break out of a forever potion? love? LIKE YEAH, GOOD GUYS GOTTA WIN SOMEHOW, but its just so cliche and overdoneeee

-oh yeah and also when travis went bonkers and became the demon warlock or whatever, why’d he only take over katelyn and garroth?? like, zane had been influenced by the potions in the past as well? DONT GET ME WRONG--i do love some good brother edge, but uh, the demon warlock was just bein kinda a dumbass by not possessing zane too just sayin’

-can aaron please go to fucking jail for mass murder now like holy shit, he just got sent home on a fuckin boat. also why did blaze forgive him for killing him thats not even remotely realistic. then again, nothing in mystreet has ever been realistic when it comes to characters and motives and personalities, (cough katelyn being actually abusive and travis being an actual pervert) but yknow whatever

-katelyn and kawaii chan literally added nothing to the plot whatsoever. like lets be real, katelyn lost her personality the moment season 5 started and kawaii chan just kinda sits there :I

-ok im sorry this was bound to come up but cmon guys imagine laurances potential if he was in season 6 like god damn this is beyond maddening. AND YOU KNOW WHAT WOULD HAVE BEEN A REALLY REALLY COOL PARRALLEL?? IF IT WAS LAURANCE WHO SNAPPED GARROTH OUT OF HIS MIND CONTROL THING, because it would mimic laurance’s speech to get garroth to snap out of his rage in season 1, episode 100 of minecraft diaries. like how fuckin rad would that have been? missed opportunity 

-also?? why does kim/ghost know magicks?? like, if i remember correctly, emmalyn is a scholar--not someone who knew magicks. i mean, i guess research? study?? but its been established that knowing how magicks works =/= being able to use magicks. i dunno, just doesnt seem right i guess. maybe its explained, i wouldnt know (yes i know that makes me look like a dick leave me alone)

-melissa should have stayed dead. LIKE, NO, ITS NOT AS SIMPLE AS “haha it takes more than a few bullets to kill me”??? look ive got nothing wrong with melissa (cough lie cough) but yknow it would have just been cool a character... stay dead? for once? its just too fuckin cliche that shes alive god damn

-can i also just say the only good thing that came out of season 6 was travis’ dads sacrifice like damn that made me actually sad

-howww was lucinda turned into a relic. or yknow, anyone else? like im sure they explain it better in the actual show i just dont remember, but its just that easy? turning anyone into a relic? granted, a normal person wouldnt be able to produce a good relic, but idk man. IM JUST SAYING; that the only really powerful relics that aphmau should have been able to wield is the one that aaron + zane produced because shad relic and esmund relic moment. lucinda isnt even like, connected to a divine warrior. ALSO, another point, if its seriously that powerful of a relic getting one from just a magic user like lucinda, why go through the trouble? i mean i guess ofc youd want the “all powerful” one that the ultima produces but i mean damn whats the point

-ok this is just going to bother me but in one of the episodes (i think might have been in season 5 actually) where that like, guardian dude was chasing aphmau and zane and at one point they split up and the dude just chuckles at zane diverting paths and goes under his breath “youre not the important one here”, suggesting that aphmau somehow is? first of all, id argue that any ro’meave is significantly more important than aphmau was, especially not knowing much about her other than that shes with aaron. i might be missing some bits an pieces, but if i was that dude id forget about aphmau and go after zane 

-killing off derek for shock factor sucked, and i know the moment was supposed to be really sad because like “oh :( aarons dad is sacrificing himself for his son” but lets be real dereks still was a shitty father and i dont think his reasons for doing what he did was very good at all

-less about plot or more like: why the absolute fuck did the gang bring kim along instead of, oh i dont know, a life-long friend? like, laurance or dante maybe?? im sure its explained, i never saw aphmaus year or most of season 5, but god DAMN id hate to be apart of this friend group AND GOD LIKE, imagine reconnecting with an old friend who ends up getting closer to your best friends and taking priority in their lives over you (cough laurance) like god damn lol

-im just going to preface this one with: i dont remember everything that’s happened, so if im wrong i apologize in advance--but (you actually can correct me if im wrong and please do) didnt like, irene reincarnate her friends in order to give them better lives? I DONT KNOW IF THIS IS TRUE, ITS JUST WHAT I REMEMBER--however, if im correct, then:

a. why the hell would she bring back someone like zane, or gene, or ivy, etc.

b. why the hell do they all have the same exact names? first and last? again, im aware that the whole mystreet+mcd tie wasn’t originally supposed to be there, but i dont think that means such a coincidence can be excused? its just a bit much if you ask me.

c. why the hell is the fact that (as much as i literally hate this) aaron is a decedent of shad being ignored? like, you’d think that something like this would be something thats actually important, or something the demon warlock couldve taken advantage of. or are we completely erasing every other connections to divine warriors besides aphmau + irene? because even if irene did reincarnate them or do whatever it is she did, does she even have the power to sever the connections between them and their ancestors? my guess is, no.

d. speaking of irene why on earth was aphmau able to talk to/see irene, they’re literally the same person are they not? did she like, fuckin reincarnate herself without actually doing it?? BUT--i will give it to them, the demon warlock did refer to aphmau as something along the lines of being “one of the 3 parts of her broken soul” or something like that. however, my point still remains. also what are the other two did i miss that or is it never explained

now; if irene in fact did not ‘reincarnate’ her friends then please ignore that little bit right there :)

but yes, those are a few of the problems i have with season 6 off the top of my head. i would go into like, season 4 and 5 more as well, but i honestly didnt feel like it. at some point i might go into other things, like how important laurance could have been to the plot of these later seasons, or HELL, even dante. i might also go into what could have made season 4, 5, and 6 actually good--maybe... a rewrite? perhaps? but im getting too far ahead of myself, so i just leave you with this for now.

and i know that as soon as i post this 15 more things are just going to pop into my head BUT im going to try and not edit this post because why stress myself with that even more

anyways thank you for coming to my tedtalk 

[nomoregoldfish]

I Promised You The Moon rant

Just binged it and this was from the episode by episode reaction/discussion with my partner in crime @glossyboy.

First of all, Oab stole the show, singlehandedly, which he's not supposed to. I don't think anyone expected it including himself. In the very top post when I searched his name on tumblr, he said this lol

But the truth is he played one hell of "villain" that required a very nuanced performance and he delivered it in a believable and graceful manner. Jai became the catalyst of the entire season and his rather complicated relationship with Teh was the highlight of part 2.

EP 1

From the very beginning it's clear that part 2 is very much a Teh's story rather than a balanced story about two young people's journey as a couple in the next chapter of their lives. It makes me uncomfortable they made Oh-aew clingy and pessimistic without giving him any character development.

The best part is probably the opening scene where they went paper-rock-scissors to decide who's gonna buy condoms. It felt authentic, the expectation, the hesitation, the mischievous act, all fits their characters well. Other times ep 1 was more like two adult kids playing house, literally in an empty giant ass upper middle class apartment.

EP 2

It's great that they poked the femininity vs. masculinity issue through Oh-aew, but stopped right there at the surface. Missed a perfect opportunity to go head-to-head with the controversial topic, start a debate, crush the stigma of femininity, bring something new, be a real game changer of the BL genre, and most importantly give Oh-aew some concrete character development. Part 1 showed us a gay character that's very comfortable with his sexuality and femininity, that's almost revolutionary in Asia, not as a comic relief but a leading role. Oh-aew questioned his own sexual identity once in that bra wearing scene, it's straight out of comfort zone, BOLD, and transgressive. So I expected more from part 2.

That's it? And they're already sophomores? Can't believe Oh-aew's character has been marginalized like this. It's pathetic.

But I love the brutally honest conversation at the end where Teh vented his rage and despair regarding his frustration of acting. He was acting like a dick because he's disappointed, and scared. Teh again was not afraid of showing vulnerability, making the reconciliation very realistic and touching.

EP 3

Dare I say I freaking love ep 3! The unresolved (partially sexual, but not entirely) tension between Teh and Jai was over the roof! And the built-up to their kiss was very authentic, which paled Teh and Oh-aew's much sidelined storyline, including the long anticipated sex scene (still can't believe it happened right after Jai explicitly instructed Teh to do it after the two spent a whole night bonding, like wow! Totally TRANSGRESSIVE and to some extent, kinky.) Teh looked up to the senior, idolized him, wanted to be good for him and make him proud, thirsted for the validation from him, which was mixed with affections. The workshop diary was a brilliant idea to let them open up to each other and eventually bring them close. This was what a meaningful arc of a story looked like. By contrast, there isn't a single moment between Oh-aew and Teh in part 2 that made me go "Damn it's soooooo hot!"

I know Jai/Teh wasn't the endgame but I appreciate the storyline so much. It's a very bold move considering it broke the over-glorified "one true love in one's life" fantasy of its target audience, mostly young cis women. The popular narrative of "you can only love one person through your life/one true love" in romance fictions/chick flicks was totally smashed. And it wasn't written just to stir up things between Teh and Oh-aew, it wasn't a silly fling. Instead, it's meaningful, complicated, natural, and realistic, delivered by nuanced and excellent acting from two young actors. It's hilarious that fans hate Jai with a passion and call him names.

And big news, Jai is bi?! Bravo! He's radiating bi vibes since his first appearance.

I kind of gave up at this point, the season wouldn't do Oh-aew any justice. Like my partner in crime pointed out, the costume design literally threw some "incongruous female fashion pieces" on Oh-aew, made him dye his hair red, without...making any actual point of his personality or his character development. Wardrobe was supposed to make a point in storytelling. Yes, PP wearing pink is cute, and? There's nothing else for Oh-aew. Unfortunately he's reduced to this sulky, crying, and wronged partner in a failing relationship.

EP 4

Oab again was killing it. The tension between Jai and Teh...from the rehearsal in front of Oh-aew to the dressing room pep talk, was incredibly intense and hot AF.

Was it a manipulative relationship after all? Oab was so good at conveying a character with many faces. Jai's a mentor to Teh, also a good friend, their relationship was genuine. He's also ambitious with his own goals, he used, challenged, provoked Teh in a way that benefited them both. It made sense the title of part 2, I Promised You The Moon, was from Jai's script. He promised Teh what the junior wanted the most, a bright future in acting. Teh's unconventional and unspoken feelings for Jai was the best part of the entire season in terms of creative writing, it's complicated, fragile, delicate and completely heartbreaking.

The after talk in the hallway was so well-written. It's funny (Teh joking about playwrights always write about their EXs is gold), intimate yet meticulously controlled, no one lashed out or wept. Both knew what they signed up for and Jai particularly made it clear about his motive and the purpose of the "special workshop" beforehand (or right away.) Yet it's no one's fault that Teh got carried away. He's younger, he's immature, he's more into it, it's totally natural. It's so romantic when Teh's singing karaoke in the bar with Oh-aew, yet he couldn't help but desperately staring at Jai on the floor, knowing he and the man who just turned him down were never gonna happen, they were done, but he's still madly attracted to him and his talent. He fancied Jai, at least the idea of Jai, a playwright, a director, someone knew him better than himself. That hurt beautifully.

EP 5

Teh/Oh-aew endgame at this point was pretty meaningless. Oh-aew as a leading character never got any solid character development over a span of four years. What happened between Jai and Teh wasn't just "cheating", though they surely made it look that way, like Teh's empty promise of "I won't see him again after the show ends". No matter how Oh-aew and Teh eventually reconciled, there's no emotional connection, no sparkle anymore between the couple.

But I knew for a fact they had to. Otherwise it's too much of a risk financially for the series. The creators had to take the easy way out like most traditional romances—one of the most contrived and formulaic trope where the male leading character made a mistake (usually cheating) and realized he's wrong, he deeply hurt the female leading character (Oh-aew was merely a girl substitute in part 2), then he completely changed for hell knew what reasons, started doing every nicest thing in the world to try to "win" the female character back. It has been feeding the emotionally-deprived cis female readers/audience who are frustrated with heterosexual relationship irl for decades. The formula that made romance outsell other genres of fictions combined in the 60s and 70s still sells today, under the name of boys' love. It's pathetic to see Oh-aew confess to Bas that he always "lost" to Teh. Love shouldn't be some kind of game or competition, there isn't winner or loser in love. Love is spontaneous. Oh-aew didn't lose because Teh developed feelings for someone else, and he didn't win when Teh begged him for reconciliation. People change, people move on.

And as predicted, they went for it. The ending was so absurd and tedious.

Overall, Jai's probably the hardest villain to play, he needed to be REALLY GOOD to be "the bad guy", to make his role conceivable. Oab absolutely nailed it with his talent and experience. He's not even my type or extremely good looking yet I'm 100% SOLD. I immediately re-watched the scene of him kissing Teh back hungrily at the end of ep 3 like I used to re-watch Teh/Oh-aew's steamy make out session at the end of episode 3 part 1. Coincidence?

I like some parts of both seasons for the same reason, each challenged and tried to break some outdated/contrived narratives in the BL genre. Part 1 took on the sexuality taboo by showing two same sex characters sexually attracted to each other, no more "I'm not into boys, I just happened to fall for someone of the same gender" or "pure love" bullshit. By staying true to the characters' sexuality and actually showing it with explicit, intense (and beautifully shot) scenes, the gay characters were normalized. They weren't just pure and innocent, no one was. And it created two of most unconventional gay characters in Asian pop culture, Oh-aew, a beautiful boy who's very comfortable with his own sexuality and femininity, not passive at all, taking initiative to pursue what he wanted; and Teh, a sensitive, caring and vulnerable boy who cried a lot, he's confused but also sweet and brave.

Part 2 tackled the "You can only love one person through your life" trope with a very nuanced story of "cheating". Yet neither carried out what they started. Part 1 fell short of a revolutionary piece that stayed true to "adolescent sexual turmoil", dismissing bisexuality and becoming a typical unrealistic BL fantasy in the end. And Part 2, ugh, forced a "happy ending" that almost no one digs. I understand it's extremely difficult and risky to disrupt the established norms of a genre. But sometimes being transgressive and progressive could be the same thing. A story, an artwork, has to challenge something in order to create something new and compelling.

[thebloset]

Back on this dead but still very alive app

So you’ve reached that point in life where things kinda went to crap the first half and now you just want to do anything to have a better time for the second half of the year? Then you decided to just go back to tumblr and write shit down like it’s a diary but you’re letting the world know everything and you’re kinda done hiding it too? Yup, that’s exactly how it might be for now since I’ve kinda got myself in a strange pickle of life.

I guess I’ll summarize it for now and share a longer post some other time. The first week of January, I got Covid (sometimes I just say I’m dying or just that I was covided), took two weeks to recover but I enjoyed that long break got to watch Encanto when it released and watched gamers play fnaf security breach. After that I had to work a lot to get back for all the time I missed and money I lost from being sick.

Sometime later my job wanted me to try the opportunity to be a supervisor for another department in our store and I put myself forward to try and did all that I could to get up but unfortunately I got rejected before getting interviewed. I was hoping this would help me financially for a while and also help me understand a whole new environment of work since I still don’t know much and very well suck at talking with older adults or at least anyone.

A week later from that, my girlfriend broke up with me and we still talked afterwards and stuff. In fact we were talking a lot still and just wanted to get better for ourselves. We broke up on good terms there. Then a month later she was considering to try again only for a month later, after a few days from my own birthday and a day after my mom left for a whole month, she broke my heart again but this time she was sure that we can’t go back cuz of her mistake. She had it easy, so easy because she knew I could forgive her. After that I stopped talking to her and things just weren’t so well for me but I couldn’t do anything because I have to do all the house shit with my sister because these adult men in the house don’t do shit and hate each other. Life was just a nightmare but I was full rage.

In the middle of that, I also lost my best friend due to her need to grow out of her friendship with me and many others because she’ll be going to college and she just was being an asshole about it all but basically I don’t and i don’t know if I have a best friend right now or any time soon. That’s another whole rant I could give.

Around mid June however, I was starting to do more things I haven’t done in so long. I went out with friends I haven’t seen in so long and miss dearly. I went two parties of my friend, it’s a family party so non of that wild adult parties. I drank for the first time at my boss’s house when he invited me along with supervisors and other higher ups to a cookout. I got to see someone I haven’t seen in a long time. I didn’t drink heavily since I’m still underage and never in my life have I drank anything that strong in my life since those strong medicines my parents used to give me. I made the famous Ratatouille dish and they loved it.

Some time after that I went out with another group of coworkers to a beach that was two hours away I think and it was fun. I almost died in the water but it was all good. This time I didn’t really hold back on drinking but I didn’t do much because everyone kinda knew I was going through it and drinking is not a good way to go for it. After the beach we went to some outlet stores and shopped (I spent $200 at hottopic and that is a crime). We ate at a Mexican themed restaurant but the food felt authentic enough (I may be Hispanic-American, but I know my foods). I got the best drink ever and it was a virgin drink too. It was a piña colada and my drink was in a pineapple and topped with whipped cream, it was heaven on earth. After that we went to another outlet, the girls convinced me to get panties at pink so I did. We took pics and then it was time to get back. When I arrived home, I took some snacks we didn’t eat and drinks too.

Recently I went to one more trip to see my friend who lives an hour away for her birthday and I got to see a city and area I think I fell in love with. I felt at peace there and it made me understand that I need a new change in my life, location-wise. I sleepover at her place, I got to see her friends who are super cool. We prepared food for a picnic and then went out to have a picnic in this hot ass weather. Then we went to her partner’s job and I ate this delicious Mac n cheese with tomato sauce and meatballs on it, it was amazing. The place looked cool but I assumed it be that way since it’s close by a university. We went back to her place and get ready for bed. Next day we went out and I got to see where she worked and I had an awesome smoothie bowl that I wish I can get everyday. She got her hair done but sadly it wasn’t done so well but she looked pretty regardless. She showed me the street nearby with all these cool shops around and it was beautiful. We went in a few of them and it was quite nice. Vintage and witchy stuff and more foods with water, all right up my alley. We then Uber back to her place to get ready for Korean bbq and karaoke. Food was yummy and the place looked cool. Karaoke was fun, although after they prematurely cut off me doing a perfect solo on Welcome to the Black Parade by MCR, I felt like I was put in my place of the corner real quick. I had an awkward ride home after that (had to get my stuff so it kinda made the ride more awkward that we had to go back) and then I was home. I miss it all ngl.

So what’s recent now? Well, I’m just working as of now but it seems like we might have found an apartment we’ll be willing to move it soon. I know it’s still in the same county I live but I want to move out do family first and then work my way to go somewhere better. I just hope everything goes well and then we can start life again. It’s been a summer and there’s still a bit of it left, so I’ll try to have more fun as this goes and hopefully my life will be new by autumn.

So I see you reached the bottom of this. Thanks for reading all of that if it interested you. There’ll be more of this I hope. I mean there’s more to write or type. I gotta go to bed now since it’s 1 AM and I do work so, I’ll be back when I can. Until then….

Walk on.

08.10.22

[prideandpen]

A rant about the state of Hell America

God every single day for the past week and a half, I’ve woken up and been horrified because it’s 2017 and America is being lead by Nazi’s. Actual, literal Nazi’s, and that’s. I remember learning about the Nazi’s in school. Like they were some thing-of-the-past. All the photos were in black and white. They were other. They were history. Never to be repeated, only talked about. Talked about because history is supposed to be a reminder, a warning, when it comes ton the horrible things that happened. We read Anne Frank’s Diary, we watched movies about her and the holocaust. And every time I felt cold. Chills that spread down my spine and across my shoulders at the sight of every photo, at every horrible moment in the movies. I still can’t understand how people can be so vile. But I don’t think I ever had a moment in those classes where I thought “This will never happen again” even though it was talked about in class. How it can’t happen. Maybe I’ve just always been a cynic, but I think deep enough down I recognized that the world - particularly the western world - wasn’t done being so cruel yet. And maybe we should have all seen this coming. Because while Germany’s(and several other European countries) government has laws about Nazi symbols America has had nothing at all preventing the open pride of displaying a flag from the civil war - a war fought over the south wanting to keep their slaves - with the claims that it represents ‘southern heritage’ until recently. Other countries are ashamed of their racism but America shrugs it’s shoulders and tries to hide it under the rug. America claims to be a melting pot, a home for refugees and immigrants, but our history has consistently disproved that. I wish I was surprised by Nazi’s in 2017. By Nazi’s in America. By talk of banning people and putting up walls and camps. But I’m not surprised by any of it. That talk has been happening for a lot longer than just the election season. I’m angry and horrified and hurt that it all came slamming fist-first into reality, but I don’t think there’s anything surprising about this. Because frankly history repeats itself. And I’m afraid for what comes next. I’m afraid we’ll fight so hard in these first weeks and months, burn so bright and hot, that we’ll burn out. Because I’m already tired. And I’m sure I’m not the only one. I’m afraid we’re going to have to pick and choose which battles we need to fight when how can we when they’re all important and they all have peoples lives on the line. I’m afraid that it’s not going to stop with executive orders and mass protests. We’re less than two full weeks into this new government and my dash and twitter feed is full of terrible statements, executive orders, dangerous nominations, protests, rogue officials desperately trying to reach us with real facts, and self care. Self care for protesting, self care for activism, self care for your mental health and emotional health and physical health all relating to this political nightmare. And I love self care. It’s important and essential but it’s not even been two weeks and how can we keep up this fight if we’re already having to remind each other to try and take a break. To try and breathe and thing about something else. It’s so hard to think about anything else at the moment. This is everywhere, tumblr, twitter, the news, tv shows. Everything is either horror or hope and sometimes I don’t want either. I want to turn it all off and forget it exists for a minute. But I can’t. Because facebook is business as usual and it makes me so angry that not a single person I’ve actually known who uses their facebook seems to give a shit except for a single post or two, a photo from the womens march, an odd article about pro-choice or black lives matter. Even the places that aren’t flooded with trying to survive or unbridled rage make my blood boil at the moment. It’s like being trapped in the rapids while the current pushes you in several directions at once and you can’t seem to break the surface. I have this constant, almost desperate, desire to be a source of hope because there are so many people who are in positions that are way more threatened than my own and I want to be able to remind them that we’re all going to keep fighting for them, for each other, because this is #not okay and #neveragainisnow and we’re going to continue to #resist because he is #notmypresident. But I don’t know how any of us can keep going at this pace, and I don’t know how we can stop when there’s so much danger every day. I’m afraid of what happens next, and of the question about what next is that I’m sure is at the back of so many minds when everyone knows what next is in a dystopian novel or movie, when history repeats itself and we’ve seen the protests become next in other countries in recent history. And I seem to be shifting, constantly, between white-hot rage and an uncaring void, to a spark of hope, to such a swirling mess of thoughts and feelings I don’t know where to start untangling it. All I want to do is write right now. To get back into my resistance but I can’t seem to connect with it even though it seems more relevant and important all the time. So there it is. I put on a good face and I talk about hope and resisting and how proud I am of every single person who goes out there and protests all the while wondering what good I’m actually doing sitting behind my computer when I can’t even force myself to focus on my resistance. Wondering where I’ll be and what I’ll be doing when next comes around the corner. I wonder if I should share the dream I had the other night which was at least half a nightmare about next and after and wonder what good it would actually do when all I want to do is spread hope when there’s so much fear and rage to go around, when I already share so many small slices of my rage. And I would give every last one of you every last ounce of my hope if it would do any good. But it’s so much harder to pretend that I’m not worried too when I was already stressed before the Nazi’s set fire to our country. I never considered myself a patriot. I hated America too much for that. I hated the hypocrisy. The greed. The capitalist, corporate focused, white male centric truth of this country was all I could really see. Because for all America talks about the melting pot, and the American Dream, and American Ideals, none of it has ever seemed real to me. Like it was just a mask. But maybe I am a patriot. Not of what America is, because frankly America is shit. America has never been great. But what America could be, what it should be, what it pretends to be. That I do believe in. Call me what you will, socialist, liberal, feminist, social justice warrior, I’m all of that. I want to be all of that. I want to be more than that. And while I am not capable of everything I would like to be, I will do everything I can to be a patriot because I believe in liberty and justice for all. I don’t want this country to continue with it’s mask and it’s lie and it’s bullshit persona of freedom. I want it to live it. To breathe it. To be it. So maybe I’m a patriot now. Maybe whatever next is I’m here for it. I will draw hope from the marrow of my bones if I have to.

[dabacahin]

Our letters, ourselves

Can’t stop reading bits and pieces from the book I bought last Saturday—Conversations with Myself by Nelson Mandela. His words, his voice and soul, come alive in all their courage and humility in this archive of letters, calendar jottings, unpublished manuscripts, extracts from notebooks and conversations. His greatness is not the result of an absolute certainty that by fighting the good fight we shall all witness peace and justice prevail over cruelty and stupidity. It is in passages where he bares his own contradictions and fears that I find him most inspiring and real. I love that in such a man of will and faith, there’s no denial of that ongoing fight “between the heart and the head, the blood and the brain.” And so, often in solitary confinement, he engages himself and others somewhere between fierce hopes and brutal realities, “even as I scribble these hurried lines.”

This book is of a piece with some of my current preoccupations—books of letters between friends (George Sand & Gustave Flaubert, Elizabeth Bishop & Robert Lowell, Helen Hanff & Frank Doel) and personal archives (Walter Benjamin, Sonya Tolstoy, Marilyn Monroe, Kurt Cobain). Mandela’s letters embody the freedom of a man locked in prison. I think of other great letter-writers whose books of correspondence I have collected, been moved by, been sheltered in—my halfway homes during seasons of distress. I have always been charmed and consoled by these messages from distant times and places, these reproductions of yellowing, brownish, brittle paper, often smudged and crumpled around the edges—these diary pages, hotel stationery, table napkins, spiral notebooks, postcards, tickets, flyers—with typed or handwritten traces of lives, photos and doodles of time passing. These letters of John Cheever, Anton Chekhov, Isak Dinesen, Ansel Adams, Bruce Chatwin, Flannery O’Connor, Claude Monet, Jackson Pollock and family, and so many others. As I wrote here on Tumblr (on July 9, 2012), in my little ode to the Pollock family, “Hurray for people who love letters—those who write them, read them, keep them, share them!”

Like Mandela, like me (yeah, leave it up to me to squeeze myself in this line-up of luminaries), these letter-writers, these diligent archivists of their own lives, have all been locked up in different kinds of prisons. Confined in unhappy marriages or soul-eroding jobs, or in wheelchairs, in illness, or stranded in the limbo of rage or regret, shackled by cultural norms, suffocated by family secrets, financially strapped, spiritually impoverished, intermittently depressed, or reined in by self-hate, self-doubt, or other incarnations and incarcerations of the searching self. Isolated, paralyzed, seemingly beyond reach. Yet all have kept their connection to the world outside their cells, outside their heads, and all have found access to their kinder, braver, wiser selves through letters—as I have often found comfort and solidarity with others and with myself in emails, texts, Tumblr posts, and handwritten notes.

It just occurred to me now, as I ramble on, that many of my most personal and cherished blog posts originated from or are edited versions of letters and emails I’ve sent and received over the years. The one I sent to my grieving uncle. That endless aria to a co-member of an online support group for depressives. That one to a chatmate from Ireland right after the 9/11 tragedy. My 2005 email to a friend who is a funnier, kinder, smarter version of Che Guevara. My 1998 letter to my sister explaining why I was the Meryl Streep of our monastery (or why I was the Isak Dinesen of my deluded brain). The ones I got from K. and N. (my twin “alternative” Valentines in 2013), the note from Father S. that introduced me to Dorothy Day, those totally unexpected messages from a Tumblr follower, a lovely soul from Brazil, who sent me Maggie Nelson’s Bluets. And that unforgettable note from Charles D’Ambrosio about the final letter from his youngest brother Danny. Well, no, that one wasn’t for or from me—but it might as well have been, not only because I’m his brother’s namesake but also because … Oh no, I may have to compose another endless aria to complete that sentence. Let’s just say that some letters that are not addressed to us ultimately become ours to keep, to weep over and live by.

So maybe our letters to others (and the letters we have received or have claimed to be ours) are evolving conversations with ourselves, as the title of Mr. Mandela’s book suggests. Maybe our letters are both windows and mirrors, ways of reaching out and reaching in. Bits and pieces of our stories, our personal archives, fragmented yet whole in their messy incompleteness, repositories worth revisiting and sharing with those who might find their own windows and mirrors in our scraps of thoughts, these hurried lines. Often ineloquent, repetitive, self-absorbed, vulnerable to misinterpretation, ridicule, or indifference, these are—for better or for worse—our letters, ourselves. These are our Carrie Fisher-esque postcards from the edge, our Nora Ephron-ish cosmic questions to the void, sent from laptops and smartphones, or from nowhere, and sometimes sent to no one in particular, but still sent. Sent out, for sometimes it’s our only way to keep ourselves from getting locked in our bubbles and cocoons. Imprisoned for 27 years, Mr. Mandela had to smuggle out many of his letters of love and grief and rage. Two weeks ago, the day after Christmas, I was reading an email from a friend who felt grateful and liberated now that all the “kinda stressful and depressing” merry-making was over. “Yes,” I wrote her back, “we survived Christmas. Aren’t we amazing?” Let’s just hope we learn to appreciate more the freedom we still have to rant, gush, tweet, and tumblr—to write and read these letters of gratitude, solace, and awe.

[tweefunk]

Fuckin’ things man.

IDK, my BFF Jill? I want to write nice things I really. I don’t like being a negative Nancy.

The Orwells-Terrible Human Beings

4/10

Eh. Dangerous sexuality only works as an aesthetic when it's tragically hip and elegantly disheveled. See all hyped indie-rock from 2001-2005.

When a bunch of gangly-ass white eggheads from the suburbs consciously re-create it a decade late(r) as a marketing ploy it's just nauseating.

Unfortunately, this isn't that entertainingly awful. It's worse. Boring.

Suicide Silence-S/T

3/10

Suicide Silence attempts what other metalcore acts have done more successfully; transition to an accessible mainstream rock sound and audience. It worked for BMTH and ADTR, but here it just further accentuates that Suicide Silence is a one-trick pony.

The terrible lead single “Doris” set the bar low and became an instant meme, but unfortunately, it’s one of the comparatively bright spots on this underwhelming record. 

Suicide Silence’s attempts at a radio-rock crossover sound come across like a garage band stumbling through bad Deftones covers at their first practice. The sheer ineptitude, combined with the fact that a label was even willing to release this, is astounding.

This mediocrity (to put it mildly) casts the remnants of Suicide Silence’s old deathcore sound in an unfairly favorable light. The brief forays into competence provide welcome relief.

I expect a severe course correction on their next release.

Dirty Projectors-S/T

2/10

Let’s just get this out of the way early. Dave Longstreth is exceptionally talented. He possesses an Ivy League music degree, and it shows. His understanding of melody, harmony, and tonality is nearly unparalleled in pop music, and I’m just some jackass with a tumblr page.

I guess now is as good a time as any to admit (if you couldn’t figure it out for yourself) that I don’t review music in an objective, structural sense. I review music in a subjective, what-does-it-all-mean, how-does-this-relate-to-the-culture-at-large, how-does-this advance-the-medium/genre kinda way. I don’t get into the nuts and bolts of production, or cadences, or harmonic structures unless it’s distracting from the overall message of the product. 

Take punk for example. No one would ever mistake the Ramones for virtuosos, but you would be an idiot to write them off since pretty much all mainstream rock since the late 70′s owes at least a foundational aesthetic to them.

Speaking of punk, (SEGUE!) the first Dirty Projectors album anyone cared about was 2007′s Rise Above the post-modern circle jerk in which the group re-imagined (read: drained of all life, and ignored the cultural context behind...) Black Flag’s 1981 opus. The ironic, self-satisfied condescension of a bunch of literal art-school rejects layering dense fussed-over harmonies onto songs that were imagined as blinding, cathartic rage against both internal emotional and external structural oppression is still nauseating a decade later.

Some dipshit tried to fight me in college for saying that once. 

While Dirty Projectors are once again a solo act, the same sense of narcissistic genre-superiority is still alive and kicking. Except now there is nice dollop of nice-guy woe-is-me misogyny AND a desperate attempt to fit in with the kids and their hippity-hop. In “Up in Hudson,” Longstreth whines “Now I'm listening to Kanye on the Taconic Parkway/riding fast/And you're out in Echo Park/blasting 2Pac/drinking a fifth for my ass.” As you might know, this record is about the breakup of Longstreth and his lover/bandmate Amber Coffman. The above lyric might not be so gross if it weren’t for the fact that opening lines of the record are “I don't know why you abandoned me/You were my soul and my partner.” Well, I’m sure your whiny victim mentality didn’t have anything to do with it.

This tack continues as Longstreth continues to make not-so-subtle jabs at the moral and artistic credibility of his ex. Returning to the opening track, Longstreth delivers this particularly pissy kiss-off: “What I want from art is truth/What you want is fame/Now we'll keep 'em separate/And you keep your name”

Taking this line in context of his east-west dichotomy (LA a symbol of fake plasticity and NY is gritty realism) and the long standing truism that women in the performing arts are often viewed as superficial entertainers providing fun escapism whilst the men get on with such lofty things like “Real” Art, Objectivity, Reason, and Truth.

And in a roundabout way this bring me to my major gripe with the cult of Dirty Projectors and hipsterdom in general. It’s no secret that I grew up as disciple of the early 2000′s pop-punk and emo scene, which has rightly been critiqued as cesspool of vengeful, beta-male “nice-guy” revenge-misogyny. Say Anything’s “Every Man Has A Molly” is perfect example of this with lines like “Molly Connolly ruined my life/I thought the world should know.” 

However, I would argue that Say Anything’s treatment of the subject is more palatable since Max Bemis seems to be capable of self-reflection and critique. In contrast, every time Dave Longstreth comes to close to admitting a fault, it comes caked in backhanded sarcasm since he knows he has to pay lip service to being magnanimous.

And now I turn on the critics: Why the fuck is it ok for an effeté ninny (oh the beautiful irony) to spew this venom, but when a bunch of skate rats in a garage whine about girls ignoring them, it’s an affront to music and good taste? At least the latter group can have a sense of humor about themselves and their genre. But go ahead and lionize the 30-something Yale grad pandering to modern production trends in a desperate bid for self-aggrandizing relevance.

However, as my rating shows, this record isn’t all bad. The mid-album ballad “Little Bubble” is actually quite beautiful and one of the few moments where Longstreth allows his mask to slip and recognizes that this is maybe, partially, his fault.

And lastly, can we laugh at that album art? It’s a fucking broken Nutter Butter.

Thundercat-Drunk

7/10

If you’re into jazz or funk, this essential listening. Thundercat is an incredible musician and his songwriting manages to be hilarious and personal at the same time.

Seriously, one of singles is about Goku. Unfortunately, it gets a little noodly at times, but if you’ve enjoyed his work with Flying Lotus and Kendrick Lamar, definitely check this out.

Also, the guest appearances from Kenny Loggins and Michael McDonald may be final confirmation that the yacht-rock aesthetic is being revived. 

Sun Kil Moon-Common as Light and Love are Red Valleys of Blood

9/10

Anyone who follows my writing knows that one of my biggest complaints about records is that they’re too long, so with a running time of over two hours, I should probably hate this.

Not so.

Mark Kozelek does not make songs, or by extension records, in any traditional sense. Since 2012′s Among the Leaves, he has slowly transitioned away from folky songs about mundane happenings in his life, to creating backing tracks to accompany dramatic readings of his diary.

Ok, that’s an oversimplification, but on many tracks here he drops al pretense to lyricism and recites letters, or just recounts what he was doing on a particular. Right down to giving us the exact date and the entreé he ate for dinner.

On a sonic level, the record moves away from the classical guitar stylings of the last few albums, and bases the sound around hypnotic bass lines and synth textures.

I’m really not doing a good job of selling this, but there’s something disarming about a man who has long ago achieved his place in the music world giving absolutely no thought whatsoever into sales, critical appeasement, or fan expectations.

With the exception of critics, none of this seems to be motivated by angst or spite, but rather from an intense desire to document all that he feels and thinks.

It’s almost Chekovian in a way. The droll observations on daily occurrences, and in some cases, dubious urban legends, allow for the profundity of the human condition to be put on full display.

CALALARVOB works because it takes the listener on a journey of discovery, not only of the world around them, but their own soul as well. If you’re willing to follow Kozelek down the (long, twisting) rabbit holes he regularly detours down, you’ll be in for a treat. 

The only sections that fall flat are Kozelek’s anti-technology rants. He spends so much time mocking smartphone users, that his very valid criticisms of the political climate or music industry circle-jerks at SXSW can get buried under his admittedly self-aware curmudgeonliness. 

This record will drain you with blunt depictions of the world’s horror, and build you up with a steadfast commitment to love and joy wherever you can find it.

Strap in, it’s gonna be a hell of a ride.