#which I've never really consciously associated with myself?

[bookwyrminspiration]

I've been "the smart friend" for so long that I never considered I could be more but recently I've been facing the fact that I think I might also be the "full of energy silly friend". not like a jokester but just endearingly earnest, energetic, and child-like in my joy that just has and exudes fun

[yuseirra]

Ch 160 ..let me jot down my stream of consciousness about what I feel, my reading comprehension skills can't be that bad, it'd help if I can sit down and think through a little more.

+ Okay, I'm complete! I understand things much better now!! Upon close examination, This chapter doesn't change anything so dramatically.

IT STILL DOES NOT ANSWER JUST WHAT THE DAD'S MOTIVES ARE, but... the conclusion I have after having reread it thoroughly??

It's that my interpretation of him as a mild guy still stands—it enhances it, even. He's still really kind, which is a pretty surprising conclusion compared to what I felt about it at first glance.

He's.. really kind and considerate. I'm serious. wow.

well, analysis/interpretation below!

I was spoiled about chapter way back sometime last Friday, right? and it was pretty accurate in sense, with it being just some bunch of sentences and that one really creepy panel.. it does help to see the actual art and the expressions that are associated with the dialogues.

Now that I sit down a bit, there are two different interpretations of the same story: Kamiki's testimonies on what's happened (I believe these are all truths. They perfectly match up with how I've interpreted his character all along.) and Aqua's takes on them.

I'm not reading things off the english version btw, so the dialogues may differ.

According to what Kamiki says,

-he considered Ryosuke and Nino as good people and as friends. But they approached him because they were obsessed with Ai, so he didn't know about their true colors.

-so he was able to talk about his breakup with her and talked about whether if he should visit her having children at the hospital where Gorou was. They went and killed Gorou, but Kamiki had no idea about that.

-on the day Ai died, he was still unsure about meeting her because he lacked the courage to see her face (god he's timid) so he asked Ryosuke to give her his bouquet on his behalf

I KEPT SAYING THIS GUY NEVER HAS IT IN HIM TO "SCARE AI!!!!!!!!!" HE LIED IN 154 OUT OF GUILT BECAUSE HE THOUGHT AI AND AQUA WANTED REVENGE ON HIM!!! SEE!!! I'VE BEEN!!! RIGHT!!!! I'VE BEEN!!!!!!!!!!

This was already in the leaks last Fri, I basically felt the same way about these back then

and I got every part of these right except for the part that Kamiki befriended them. I just couldn't picture the people who killed Ai or would actively go hunt their daughter down being his friend..

but seeing how.. much he seems to trust people, he used to be that way as a child, it actually all ties so nicely together.

I predicted that it was Nino and Ryosuke who went to the hospital and killed Gorou.

I predicted that Kamiki just wanted to send the bouquet to congratulate Ai but he couldn't go because he was nervous/sad from the phone call. I said that ever since I started drawing hikaai fanarts, you would have seen me going on and on about that, I drew them with this as the base!!!! The guy Ai chose wouldn't do such a thing as trying to get back at her!!! See??

I couldn't be more right!!! I am a prophet!! I should trust myself!!!! why am I so unsure of myself, really. I really, really did get everything right.

These must be all true. He's not lying about any of this. I've been analyzing this guy very very thoroughly so I know what I'm talking about.

I guess what's confused me was the latter bits, since Fri and even after I see the full images.

Kamiki smiles and says he never wanted to hurt anyone<this is really how I view him as well, this guy can't hurt people out of his own will...

However, Aqua dismisses Kamiki's statements as lies on the spot, and accuses him of having been unable to protect his own daughter. That he's been intentionally manipulated people to get what he wants. That would involve him causing people to kill each other without dirtying his hands.

Upon hearing Aqua stating "You wanted to kill your own daughter", Kamiki makes this really eerie smile (I kind of wish this is redrawn hshsh.. it looks like he's a demon spawn from hell, but this could REALLY be him being distressed yet AGAIN. this guy SMILES when he's that way. That's his coping mechanism. It's kind of hard to stare at that expression but that smile certainly ISN'T a happy one like the one we saw in 159. This is a really confusing habit he has. People are going to take him the wrong way but; sadly, it's become a habit of his...)

The scenes then shifts to visions of him manipulating nino and Ryosuke into doing what they've done with a smile. If this is really what's happened, then he IS someone pretty evil-

but now that I read it over I think that's just based on Aqua's interpretations about the guy.

Is what's being portrayed in those pages ACTUALLY how he is? Just yesterday, I theorized that Kamiki loves his children and has been doing whatever he's been doing for his children. I did have my reasons for making that claim.

We still don't know what his motives are!! Aqua doesn't state anything about why Kamiki would do such a thing if he's done so. Does he know anything about this??? Just what reason would make it.. enough to have someone kill the love of their life and their very daughter? What good would it do for Kamiki? For one thing, does he have ANY good reason to kill Ai at all? For having felt betrayed?? Then why wait out that long????? Killing their daughter? After having her live for, how long now? how old are they now? 15?? 16? Why now? Why would he??

The important thing would be just WHY he'd be doing all those things if he's really been so, so WHAT IS IT AQUA?? WHAT??

Forgot to mention this but in the beginning of the chapter, we have kamiki saying, Hm, but what did I do? Did I "stab someone?" did I "push someone off a cliff?" I never "did" "anything".

Then we have Nino going "Kamiki-san didn't do anything. He just talked about Ai. He talked about her so we(her and Ryosuke) wouldn't forget about her. That was enough to make us break."

OH come on. COME ON. HUH. I feel like he's never told them anything bad about Ai, he probably let out how much he loved and misses her, because he thought they were her fan and coworkers as a fellow member, I bet he was happy to befriend people who knew about Ai because they share a common interest together. With it being his favorite person in the world even while he was dumped.

What a stupid reason, Nino. You brought everything upon yourself. I can see that now.

I do think.. kamiki has some sort of power that causes people to grow insane or act out, that could have had some influence on ryosuke and nino in a way...

but again, why would he try to kill his lover and his daughter even if he can use it with his own accord??? Even if he's using those powers now?? Would he use it to do those respective things?

Even if he has those, that shouldn't be all there is to it. According to Kamiki, they were already obsessed with Ai when they approached him and YEAH! Makes sense?? They came to him first, probably already aware that he was Ai's lover?? He isn't responsible for them hoarding those kinds of feelings!!

Coming to think of it, I find it really strange that he still hung with nino being the complete wreck she is. Oh wait, I guess he still could. Ryosuke killed Ai and Nino doesn't seem to have played a part with that. Nino was there with Ryosuke when Gorou died but she's not the one who's pushed him off a cliff. Ryosuke's the really...horrible one. He had a pretty gf like nino JUST WHY. Then again, nino was obsessed w Ai too so they were a match. I guess Kamiki hanged with Nino thinking she's just another victim who wants Ai back or whatever. He still hangs with her when she says that are super creepy like she can't forgive Ruby if she surpasses Ai though.. Perhaps he's really bad at letting people go.. OH, YEAH. He was always pretty attached to people as a child. Okay, I got that part cleared up on my own. Stream of consciousness is like this. It can happen.

Continuing on!! Aqua says Kamiki is a "despicable, selfish liar, worse than a murderer". Even Kamiki can't smile hearing that. If he ISN'T one, then that'd hurt.

Well, he responds again, saying:

"Ah, yes. You're the same way as I am. You share those same eyes I have. The type of eyes that grant the power to persuade others into believing you. The eyes that grant you charisma, befitting that of a star." Then we see a panel with Ai, "The eyes of liars, that fool, and make others submit to you"

he must be thinking of what Ai's told him when she talked to him about having the same eyes. (CH 140)

"You've been inciting people just like I have, right? Just how many people did you fool to fulfill your goal?"

"It must have felt good to use your talents to impact the lives of others, right?"

I'm not sure if this is a taunt/mockery or just him stating the facts as a liar/a black star user himself.

If he's thinking about Ai... then it can be the latter. She approached him saying "they are the same". He could be thinking about that.

Actually, he's strangely calm. His emotions are a bit hard to read on this one, I'd say it actually feels collected compared to what he's heard.

This could actually be sympathy or empathy...

I didn't take it that way when I first encountered it, so I felt.. Kamiki could be lashing out a bit but no. That doesn't seem to be it.

Hey, he really never gets angry. He actually looks a bit sad depending on how you look at it, I think he may be feeling a sense of guilt in that particular panel where he says "Just how many people did you fool to fulfill your goal?", the one where he glances down,

just like how he talked to Aqua in 152, "It's a lie, isn't it? it's because they're important that you keep your distance from them. why would you go that far to bottle yourself up?"

This guy understands his son really well. In fact, I think he may be trying to say, "we're the same=I understand the way you are, we're on the same track" the way Ai's done for him. That's what was his salvation.

Aqua does not take this well.

He says yeah, we're both terrible beings, but Ruby is "different".

Oh, and the rest.. what's stood out to me is the panel where Aqua goes,

"sending love to the one who desires for love" as he describes what Ruby is doing. Kamiki shows up in that panel.. This is what Ai wanted to do for him.

and there's a panel that comes up that shows Ai with the twins that follows right after saying:

"it's the eyes of the one who desires to love someone"

This is really sad. I think that page actually indicates Ai desired to love him while he desired to be loved from Ai. That happened both ways. It was a nice page.

Yeah, and Aqua points his knife to his dad like a toy gun saying

"You must disappear right here and now, for Ruby's sake."

I don't think Aqua's actually up to stabbing him, actually? If he's pointing the knife at him like that, I think it's more like he's warning him to stay out of their way forever, scram, or just go die off on his own.

Both of his eyes are white, he's not going to kill him with his own hands, rather, he's going to make him go away.

So I don't think next chapter would start on a fierce note? Kamiki does not seem like a guy that gets agitated so easily. He STILL never once got angry in this chapter as well. He's still pretty sweet to his son. I'm not being biased on this, the way he talks has always been really soft. If this were to be an anime, you'd hear how he'd talk and see whether if he has thorns in them but I don't think it's that way at least, I think he's trying to be understanding??

This guy is soft. He will not put up a fight. I don't know, he may jump off that bridge and try to die maybe. If that's what his son wants? Move out of the way? He doesn't seem.. angry about it all. He's not even protesting.

In the end, the only thing that got proven in this chapter was that Kamiki DID NOT DO ANYTHING IN A PHYSICAL SENSE, AND HE DIDN'T TRY TO SCARE AI.

the fact about him manipulating people and lying to get his way, I think there's low chance of it being applied for Ruby and Ai's case.

I think he really didn't have a clue Nino would attack Ruby? If he's considered her as a friend?

what are the basis of Aqua picturing him that way? He must really hate his dad. There is no way he could have seen such things happen. Unless Tsukuyomi told him about it?? there is no proof that it's what's actually been taken place. Kamiki could have incited people, or influenced others, yeah, but I don't think he did anything to Ai or his daughter. Again, I think he loves his family. Why wouldn't he??

Until things get cleared up more, I???? I ACTUALLY?? think Kamiki's taking it in a really calm manner despite all the things he's being accused of??

This is very long, but that is all for now!!

Oh, this was worth revisiting and analyzing. There's a lot more I see when I scrutinize it like this!!

[kaurwreck]

hi! i really want to tell you that i love love love your blog. i feel so much joy when i see you've made a long post with your thoughts. i admire the way you engage with things you enjoy! you've genuinely inspired me to get back into reading. i've been struggling with migraines and after some time i started associating reading with suffering. i stumbled upon your blog because of bsd, and i got so fascinated with the way you communicate with the source material that i had a childlike realization: i want to have that too! and i picked up akutagawa, and i'm enjoying myself so much. i'm never not thinking about the post where you said that the trick to being clever is to stop obsessing over being right. life-changing, really. sending you so so so much love! p.s. as a russian-speaker it's a delight reading your thoughts on dostoevsky, especially seeing you use diminutives, for some reason. in russian slang we sometimes say, "ты так чувствуешь!" ("you are really feeling!") meaning "you really get it on an emotional level!" and that's what i think every time i read your thoughts on dostoevsky.

I hesitated to answer this ask because I wanted to covet it and hoard it and keep it tucked away where I could revisit it to my greedy heart's content without anyone noticing, but I'd rather you know that this ask was so delightful to receive and absolutely melted me in the best way, so I'm publishing it even though that means submitting to the mortifying ordeal of creating a tag so that I can more easily return to your kind words, and perhaps other, similar asks and posts that are emotional balms.

Also, I am so sorry, I'm sleep-deprived and I was so excited and charmed and delighted by your ask that I lost my mind and wrote you a veritable novel in response. Thus, I've added a readmore and headings (because WOW, I went on tangents, sorry!)

Returning to Reading

I'm so sorry you have migraines; I don't get them often, but I do occasionally get them, and it's some of the worst, least tolerable pain I've ever experienced. So, whatever it's worth, you have my sympathy and admiration, especially since returning to reading when you experience frequent migraines implicates some common triggers. (Never mind how annoying I know it is when you're in too much pain to read as a distraction either.) But I'm delighted you're reframing your relationship with reading separate from suffering, and that you're enjoying the process! I'm also returning to reading, and while I don't have the same challenges, I am also engaging in a process of relearning and recontextualizing reading for myself, so I'm always here to chat about it.

I'm especially thrilled that you picked up Akutagawa; Akutagawa is the author who also coaxed me back into reading literature (as opposed to comics or webnovels). He might still be my favorite even now that I've read several, several other modern Japanese authors.

Akutagawa Adoration Hours

[I apologize; I hyperfocused and wrote an entire multi-paragraph essay on how much I love Akutagawa below... I promise I come back to your ask!]

Akutagawa's literary voice is just so vivid, sharp, and intentional. He compels you to cling to the weight of each word with rich, clever language that cuts to the hearts of matters frankly, bluntly, and sometimes scathingly. But even when his authorial voice is ostensibly irreverent or lacquered with detachment, he cradles his most foolish characters, bundling them with naked affection for their sincerity, vulnerability, and childish conviction. They embody his unadulterated faith, and he reserves for them in the implication the same salvation he's convinced he's too sullied by shame, terror, and self-consciousness to deserve. Akutagawa does not squander the gravity of your attention, and even in brief vignettes in which humans become lice or have had their personhood severed from them by the untenable yet escalating demands of their responsibilities to others, there's humanity in his horror and absurdity, and closure in his ambiguity. I rarely feel as if there's certainty in Akutagawa's narratives, but neither do I feel as if nothing that occurred mattered.

Even when nothing has objectively changed for the characters, Akutagawa sources meaning from the subjective perceptions of the characters, the impact of which is rarely diminished by the objective or observable. Thus, the bleakness, horror, and absurdity of the characters' circumstances are sometimes interminable, but they shelter Akutagawa's fondness and latent certainty that existential meaning is inherent to humanity because of, rather than despite, our fragility, foolishness, and callous disregard for measurable truth.

His contemporaries criticized him for the detachment and perceived stagnancy lent by his polish and technical brilliance, but I've never read any of his stories and not felt an earnestness that persists entirely apart from the explicit narrative, as if someone is reading over my shoulder and murmuring "isn't she brave?" whenever a character is so simple in their sincerity that they become vulnerable to humiliation and abuse. And that's not detachment; that's Akutagawa relentlessly writing hope, love, and compassion into the creases of his own grotesque fear, and in doing so, filling spaces we perceive as empty in ourselves with the faith and devotion he was so certain he lacked.

You Said Childlike In Passing But Chapter 55 of the Tao Te Ching Rewired My Brain and I Was Lost In the Akutagawa Sauce So...

And it's childlike how, even when characters like O-Gin are debased and humiliated, Akutagawa yearns for their salvation enough to smudge the ink at the edges of his precisely rendered language so the silly, ignorant little fools might transcend the boundaries of the narrative that otherwise ruthlessly scorned and punished them for their guilelessness. His need for innocence is itself indicative of the keen sense of violation that prompts a toddler to indignation when his jejune reliance on fairness is first exploited and then provided as cause for exploitation.

Akutagawa was wise enough to know childlike conclusions are the most profound and self-actualizing insights we can have, but too certain of the inevitability of his suffering and too overly prescribed barbiturates to nurture and cherish his own salvific childishness. So, your realization was brilliant for its childlike wisdom, and I think it's both wonderful and meaningful that you then nurtured that wisdom by pursuing the relationship you wanted with the source material.

Being Right vs. Playful Engagement

I'm also so glad that the post about being clever =/= obsessing over being right was sticky and impactful! It's, quite frankly, immensely less fun and more pressure if you're hinging your enjoyment on whether you're right when engaging with media where "right" is subjective and layered, and where you're engaging with a foreign cultural context. I get the impression that centering your engagement on making and assessing the accuracy of predictions also lends itself to biases, defensiveness, disappointment, misplaced resentment based on unmet expectations, and incuriosity; at least more so than engaging with the story playfully and sincerely.

I'm also just extremely biased towards bsd and Asagiri's approach to storytelling; I think he's engaging in a challenging and layered approach to storytelling that is wholly unique to him. (At least, based on my own experiences with referential multimedia titles.) I'm so charmed by how Asagiri throws himself into creative challenges and engages in meaningful and remarkably substantive conversations with the source materials, his own portfolio of interlocking narratives, and his audience. I would kill to chat with him about his processes.

Everyone I'd Encountered Who Seemed Parasocially Obsessed With Dostoevsky Was Right

Before I get into this next babble tangent, I want you to know that your kind words and perspective as a Russian-speaker regarding my Dostoevsky thoughts mean SO much to me; I'm very proud if I'm able to do an ounce of justice to the text in my ramblings, and I'm so excited to know the appropriate phrase for what I'm experiencing right now because I am REALLY feeling.

I was admittedly a little nervous about reading his works with only minimal background, and I went into Crime and Punishment without first consulting any published critiques and analyses (which I sometimes do for foreign classics to bridge gaps in context). But, I was eager to start the story, so I decided to just get into it with the understanding I might need to pause for further research if I felt I was missing too much context to engage with the text meaningfully. But, wow, I was immediately consumed. I struggled to put it down for most of it, and I've been staying up too late and sneakily reading at work; things I haven't done since I was in middle school.

While I know I'm missing context, even with the attentive footnotes (and I absolutely will read so many academic papers on it once I finish these last fifty pages), I was pleasantly surprised by how not only engaging his writing and this translation are but also by how familiar with and connected I feel to the characters and circumstances and emotions and dynamics. He has rendered the human experience and specific flavors of People into such compassionate, teasing, sincere, frank, and sobering characters who I feel like I've had entire conversations with.

I love classic lit, but Dostoevsky is sincerely rekindling a joy I haven't felt in years while reading. Also, his frankness and compassion regarding alcoholism and parentified children and trauma and ennui and guilt and the contradictions we grapple with within ourselves and with who we are to different people are giving me a framework for reflecting on swaths of my trauma and childhood that I've struggled to articulate my thoughts and emotions around for years.

I'm so energized and excited about reading his other works, but, wow, I'm going to miss these characters so much.

Accounting For My Crimes Against the Russian Language

I have very little background in Russian, but I'm passingly familiar because in high school (i) I was obsessed with Russian history, particularly related to the USSR and swaths of imperial Russia (I actually taught the lesson on Ivan IV Vasilyevich in my Western Civ class because my teacher was pregnant and exhausted and I knew the material better than she did); and (ii) I studied Russian with a private tutor in my senior year of high school (very lightly; once a week, only for a year, I met with her and two French language teachers from my school who were also interested in Russian for hour-long lessons and to receive homework assignments).

So, while my experience with the language is shallow at best, I've always loved Russian diminutives. I'm obsessed with the sheer amount of information relayed in someone's name. It's incredible. Of the languages I'm familiar with, none have a comparably satisfying gradient range of (i) affection and (ii) disrespect.

That said, I use diminutives for characters I'm particularly fond of, to show affection, and to teasingly disrespect them since I think it's quite overfamiliar for me to take such liberties.

Also, while I try to check after myself to ensure I'm using them correctly, I have only a surface-level understanding of what I'm doing, and some language forum threads are more helpful than others, so I'm very, very sorry if I use any incorrectly, and I encourage you (and any other Russian speakers and learners) to yell at me if you notice I'm misusing someone's name.

So far, my approach has been to check general searches, forums, and Reddit when I've encountered diminutives in Crime and Punishment, and I'll continue to look up every single name variation in the Dostoevsky novels I'm reading, no matter how long it may take me to realize what I've been scouring for isn't a diminutive at all but instead probably (emphasis on "probably," because no one providing English explanations seemed wholly certain) the same name but spoken in the form native to a separate Slavic language than the languages anyone else in the conversation was using, not that it really seemed to matter, since the same characters within the same conversation each used multiple forms of the same, with only one remark on what was most likely the correct form, which everyone ignored/disregarded, including the remarking character. So if you have context on THAT dynamic, I would love to hear about the etiquette and conventions around language forms among the many different languages and dialects in Eastern Europe.

For reference, the diminutives I've been using re: Crime and Punishment and bsd, with more context:

Raskolnikov is "Rodya" unless he's naughty, in which case I call him "Rodka." Unless he's REALLY naughty, then he's Raskolnikov.

Avdotya is Dunya always; I do feel egregious because she commands grace and gravitas, and I respect her SO much. But I love her dearly and am very warm towards her and everything she does, so I call her Dunya as if she were my sister because if she were, I would treat her better than Rodka right now.

Razumikhin is Dima which may be wildly incorrect, both in form and historical context; the only reason I haven't confirmed it yet is because I had an OC named Dmitri in high school that I was very fond of and referred to affectionately as Dima, and I'm similarly fond of Razumikhin, so I've delayed confirming and correcting myself here, although that's very Rodka-naughty of me, I know.

Fedya is always bsd!Fyodor, and only when he has really wide eyes and is being adorable bunny Fedya. He is Fyodor when he is being nasty or squinting. I call the author by either his last or full name, although I'm sure I've carelessly called him Fyodor before too. I try to maintain some consistency in distinguishing who I'm referencing between the characters and their namesakes.

Tl;dr: I love Russian diminutives. The only other time I've come close to feeling the same amount of immense delight over names-as-love-and-violence is when my work mentor, who is Chinese, was providing me with her preferred titles (laoban ["old boss," old meaning "venerable" rather than indicating age], jiejie ["big sister"]), and my other coworker chimed in to say, "Wouldn't you be da-jiejie ["first/eldest big sister"], since you're the oldest?" If looks could kill.

[asecretvice]

hi!! i’m rereading “and this, your living kiss” (for about the sixth time bc i love it so so much), and i’m very curious what your personal opinion is about on the road? you write both opinions of the book so well and i know it’s one of those books that garner very opposite strong opinions. i read the book after reading your fic for the first time and certainly have my own strong opinions. would love to know your thoughts about it!

(and once again thank you for the absolute gift that your fic is, i love it so deeply)

Firstly, thank you so much for your kind words about my writing. It means the world <3

On the Road is a tricky one, isn't it? The short answer is, I do enjoy it. The longer answer includes a "but." And then a couple more.

Just looking at the specs of the book, it's pretty unusual that I should enjoy it--the subject matter is mostly [white] dudes being dudes, it's more or less "literary" fiction, there's just...SO MUCH misogyny, and I'm simply not a big fan of stream of consciousness [or free association, or spontaneous, or whatever you want to call it] prose, because it's difficult to do it both clearly and interestingly. And yet.

The guy does it well. The book is full of energy and passion, ridiculously gorgeous turns of phrase, and for the characters [real people!] he spends the time on, the portraits are so detailed and beautiful and ugly and real. Down to the way he captures their speech patterns!

It's been a little over ten years since I've read it [what is. time.], but I plucked the book off my shelf and was able to find you the exact passage in the first chapter where I decided to trust Kerouac as an author, and allow myself to go with his flow:

They rushed down the street together, digging everything in the early way they had, which later became so much sadder and perceptive and blank. But then they danced down the streets like dingledodies, and I shambled after as I've been doing all my life after people who interest me, because the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes "Awww!" What did they call such young people in Goethe's Germany?

I mean, this thought starts with another device I tend not to like, the sort of, "If only they'd known, then this wouldn't have happened!" or "Little did they know, it would all end soon" or what have you. But it isn't laid out that way, as a wink or a gotcha. It sets up the dim result, but then gives you the answer without holding your hand about it--you can only burn like that for so long, really. And the nod to "young people in Goethe's Germany," and mentioning the colors blue and yellow, in my view, are an intentional reference to The Sorrows of Young Werther.

The structure is great! This passage is three sentences, the middle one taking up the bulk of it. It's got all sorts of qualities that well-meaning teachers might try to convince you out of, but he's long past that beginner's stage. Read it out loud! It sounds right. The rhythm of this whole section works, with the lead up sentence, the one that flies higher and higher into a climax, and then the short denouement that brings you back down to earth. Not to mention the poetics of it; you could easily split that middle sentence into lines and be wowed by the structure of it:

and I shambled after as I've been doing all my life after people who interest me, because the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved

Or hell, just say aloud the phrase "candles exploding like spiders across the stars" and delight in the recurring phonemes like /k/, /l/, /d/, /s/, etc.

And you know, maybe that does nothing for you. But I can't imagine that most folks wouldn't at least appreciate the sentiment and how real it feels, how some are in their youth, and then things becoming "so much sadder." Or relate to times when you felt fully mad or overwhelmingly desirous. Or being the person shambling behind, the one ever so slightly on the outside, observing the ones who seem to be truly living their lives to the fullest [Writers' Syndrome(tm)].

So yes, I enjoy the book and I enjoy the pictures Kerouac paints us. It certainly helps that I read this book right around the time I started watching spn. I believe it was probably a month or so after I'd caught up. It was on the docket anyway because I had discovered Ginsberg for myself not very long before I watched the show, and I'd made a point to seek out a few of the beats thereafter. It was rather a synchronous turn of events that helped cement the two things--spn and beat literature--together for me, beyond the movement's heavy influence on Kripke. [If you don't think I have a beats-style spn fic that's been waiting to be written since that time which I've nicknamed Sulfur Sutra then you are sorely mistaken :p ]

Anyway, I did reread the first chapter before writing this post and yeah, the mommy issues and misogyny are in there right away also, and like...okay, that tracks why I recall so well certain moments of the book where I got so frustrated I would be taken out of it and just sit there like

[I hope he felt my eyes. Burning shame into his soul. Like my dude. Really?]

The other part of it is...well...he was in fact describing his version of reality. You don't have to like him on account of it, but I don't doubt for a moment that the guys talked that way, or thought that yes indeed Marylou should go to the kitchen or go sweep the floor or whatever. It takes place in the 40s [not like it doesn't happen all the time today]. Look at it from a more historical/anthropological perspective, if that helps.

Thankfully, there are antidotes to all this. I would highly recommend what I've found to be the best one: Minor Characters by Joyce Johnson. She was part of the beats, and was in a relationship with Kerouac for a couple years. On the Road was reality as he perceived the era; Minor Characters as she perceived it.

In terms of my fic, I agree with and hold both Dean's and Charlie's perspectives simultaneously, as they both come to do after they discuss it with each other and finish the book themselves. The gender politics [and in a few passages, the race politics] are shit, but there's a reason the book has remained popular since its publication, and inspired so many adaptations and other stories. To this day its effects are felt in the American zeitgeist, and for that reason I'm still happy to recommend it to people with the obvious caveats. Besides, as is often the truth in these cases, the book is so much more interesting and beautiful and nuanced than pop culture makes it out to be.

You said you have some strong opinions--feel free to tell me what they are! I'm interested to know ^_^

Thank you again for your kind words, and your ask. I had a lot of fun answering it!

[slyfire]

Connection between Kuras & the Soulless?

So I had a little thought that could easily be/mean nothing, but I thought to share anyways.

Note that I've not a great theory person, but I hope to at least give a general sense of what I'm talking about. Also this isn't really a theory per se, but more just a couple observations. The basics of what I wanna talk about is related to when we see Kuras in-game, along with some design things.

I first started thinking about a 'connection' between the soulless that attacks the MC at the start (that's later killed by Mhin), and our lovely angel-doctor Kuras simply based on Kuras's first and second appearance.

We first meet Kuras after (I believe?) an unknown amount of time after the MC (the player character) is almost killed by the soulless. MC regains consciousness, and finds themself in a clinic in Eridia, being watched by Kuras. MC finds out Kuras both saved their life, and also somehow stitched their arm back on.

I brought you to my clinic, of course. You were the only survivor from the caravan, barely clinging to life. You needed immediate treatment.

Which...you provided?

Yes.

This entire first meeting doesn't really give any meaningful connections, but does raise some questions.

How did Kuras find the MC? Was he just out & about, and noticed the attack? Was he told? Could he sense it? ...etc.

But from I get from the opening scene, MC was close to Eridia, but not that close, so the question of how exactly Kuras found the MC still twirls around in my head a bit.

So the story so far is.... Caravan Attacked by Soulless > MC left for dead > Saved by Kuras, and wakes in Eridia.

Eventually, Caravan!Soulless makes it's return, but it's cut short by Mhin who kills the soulless for good. But more importantly, Kuras also shows up.

Thematically, his appearance is most likely just a 'Hey, you've met all the LIs!', but plot wise, it's never really explained. Kuras just sorta shows up. You could assume where MC was attack was on the way to The Wet Wick, or assume this attack happened near the clinic's location. But there's no mention.

So both times we see Kuras is after an almost-lethal confrontation with the soulless.......yes that's all I had when I got thinking. I wasn't gonna dwell on it more, until I looked at the soulless & Kuras's 'true' form side by side...

There's two main elements both share.

Eyes all over body

Many fingers Starting with the more clear one, both figures have eyes/eye-likes things all over their bodies. Placements are different, but both are about the same shape. The soulless's eyes are a yellow colour, and while we can't really exactly say for the eye colour on Kuras, if his 'human' appearance is anything to go by...

We know Kuras is an angel, and angels in Christianity are often associated with eyes, so it being a key feature in this 'true' form makes a lot of sense.

We also see two crying eyes on Kuras's 'true' form's lower torso which have a different look then the rest, and the Soulless also has two round-shaped eyes on it's head.

Now this is a bit more uncertain since Kuras's true form is only a silhouette for now, but from the looks of it, the hands have fingers with longer claw-like nails. On the back of the Soulless, there's a bunch of sharp shapes that as you get closer to the head, look more and more like human fingers with longer claw-like nails.

There's a few more loosey-goosey stuff, like the shoulder areas or upper thigh areas, but nothing certain.

...and that's all have to say!

Quick summary, but there might be a connection between this Soulless and Kuras because...

Kuras always seems to show up after an encounter with this Soulless without any given reason

There are some design similarities between Kuras's 'true' form and the Soulless

I'm not saying anything like I think Kuras is the Soulless, but it's food for thought.

Well, to me it is. I mostly made this for myself so I could put my thoughts together, so please don't take this super seriously, That being said, if you have any further thoughts, I would love to hear them too!

[dionysianfreak]

hello dear! i currently am devoted to Lady Aphrodite and am interested in learning more about Dionysus. i love your blog, and I see you work with both- whats your experience with both of them? individually as well as together. do you have tips on working with them? sending love your way! thanks <3

why hello lovely ! thank you for asking, I love talking about Aphrodite and Dionysos. They have truly been my rocks for several years and I really wouldn't be who I am today had I not had Them.

Aphrodite and I have a very fluid relationship. She is my favorite neighbor, the elderly woman who loves to sing me songs, the gentle mother i longed for, my lover, my soother, my tear-soaked shoulder, my laughter, and everything in between. She was the majority of my emotional support through extremely hard times and She carries Herself with a softness I've always trusted.

theologically, i attribute Aphrodite to all earthly creation and the love that persists in the universe. while i view Deities like Gaia as personifications of earthling life, I see Aphrodite as the force that compels life. i heavily associate Her with the physical/material world, especially the physical connections we can form with the world and beings around us. this is why i worship Her as Aphrodite and Aphroditos, because I view the body as the thing that connects humanity to every other physical thing. She was born from the mixing of the sea, earthly blood, and divinity representing the harmony of creation. I also see Her in the unique things we can only do because of our physical body. this includes feeling complex emotion, sensuality, sexuality, gender identity, self expression, and more. Aphrodite taught me to love and express myself wholeheartedly, and extend that love to every other living thing.

Dionysos, on the other hand, is the blessing of consciousness. Dionysos is the reason we can appreciate and love the things the other Theoi gift and cultivate. He was the one who kisses our eyes and liberates us from automation. I speak about my views of Him in this post here which explain it well i think. Dionysos came to me when i was young, reckless, and naive. contrary to many of the others i found who worship Him, He brought a serious and structured breath to my lungs. if He had been anywhere close to the rambunctious and indulgent God many people know Him as, i would have flown off the tracks and destroyed my life. He came to me as a God of moderation, balance, and self-realization. I don't often see His carefree or festivity-oriented aspects.

Their roles in my life have drifted apart as time has gone on. when I was younger there was a lot more collaboration and syncretism of Dionysus and Aphrodite in my worship. these days, things are quite separate on the surface. They seem to have a very close relationship in my life in a way I find hard to put into words. Aphrodite definitely brings an airy, relaxed perspective while Dionysos is able to navigate any chaos that arises with grace. They keep the balance between logic and emotion in check, though there is no clean divide between who is which. i wish I could describe it better for you, but English is so limiting. I'll put it this way: I have never seen Their roles in my life as separate nor conjoined, but it feels wrong to worship Them in different shrines. I don't speak about my devotion without speaking both of Their names and I credit Them equally for the man I am right now.

the tips I have for you are scarce. Aphrodite and Dionysos both handle domains that are extremely unique to each individual, so it is hard to give advice when all i know is my own inner world. I would say that the best way to approach both of Their influences is without expectation or method. letting the lessons be fluid and appear as they are meant to has been most effective. my worship with Them has also been very non-linear so i wouldn't be concerned if one of Them drops off for a little, or if the dynamics shift frequently. Aphrodite and Dio flow together in a very unique way, which can be difficult to get used to in the beginning. but again, this is just my experience. i hope it helps a little ! and good luck <3

[cheshire-castle-library]

November 28, 2023 | A Darker Shade of Magic - 001

I decided to do this anyway, and maybe its cringe or annoying, but I'm still excited about this book even a few exhausting Uni days later. I'm also hoping to like.... prevent myself from falling off of reading by giving myself some interaction to do with it?? This is very much going to be a Spoiler-filled series of posts (assuming I keep up with this), so please be warned. I'm probably going to use Keep Reading cuts and tags so I'm not super annoying with this.

I made it through the first true chapter, and I'm honestly really excited I picked up this book. I recognized the author's name from Bookblr posts about Viscious, but I have that in audiobook form and I already knew I was going to be spending too much at the Barns and Noble that night, so I didn't pick it up. Instead I was really drawn in by the blurb on A Darker Shade of Magic, so I took the chance on it and it proceeded to sit, egging me on, in the corner of my consciousness for the next few days. I'd even started reading something else I bought that day! But something about the vaguely Vash the Stampede figure on the front (and His association with the last book I got brainworms reading) and the idea of a setting of not only one period London, but many, and I could no longer hold myself back. Its Finals, what's better than starting a new obsession? ...

Something odd that I didn't really notice until I got to the page with the big roman numeral 2 on it is that the chapters are broken into sub-chapters like some light novels I've read; I've never seen that in a western novel before, but I also maybe don't read a lot of non-textbooks these days so who knows if that's more common than I imagine. But structurally, it makes the transitions of scenes nice and clean, so its maybe something I'd like to play with in my own writing. I've been really enjoying how Schwab doesn't explain every little detail, but still gives us enough of whats important. The way Kell uses his magic, the way Kell takes care of his appearance, the colour and act of drawing blood - but not so much the transitionary actions when they aren't characterizing or important. When he was leaving the bridge, in 1-3 for instance, we got Kell's little flex of wrist to still the stream and make it reflective, and Schwab spent the time to explain relaxing the wrist when voices carried from other parts of the park; but we didn't get a, "and Kell stood, before walking off the bridge". Instead it was just a "Kell continued on his way". It honestly answers some questions I've had with my own writing, that I've been brunting up against with my NaNo novel this month. How much do I need to explain for the audience to see the motions? I think my difficulty with imagined pictures makes me assume you need a lot more detail to conjure up a scene than is really necessary. I'm also thoroughly enjoying Kell's character. There's a certain stylishness that's innate with the coat of many coats, that honestly resonates with me via my favorite tabletop OC I play. Also a kind of snarky, cocky, stylish, magic-user; I'd like to imagine what chaos Ashton and Kell might get up to if left in a room together. Though the discussions of the rules of Magic would be very interesting, because the Blood of Heroes Sorcery power is much more the Halloween Town "Want something and then let yourself have it", while the magic system of the Many London's seems more structured so far. Though there's this hint in Kell's relationship to magic, that it might not be so different. Something that's interesting to me about it is that the "elemental magics" are less will and word and more just the will part; but the magic described as "true magic" has a language associated. Something feels logically backwards to me about that - implying that the "elements" (which includes Bones) are less natural than the true magic. But then again, the True Magic is life itself, so maybe it makes sense that life is the underlying true magic. But why is the true magic tied to something of human construction - language - while the others are controlled in a more intuitive way?

I'm really excited to learn more!

[aethernightmare]

Bojack Horseman was such an important show for my own mental health recovery journey after everything I want through in 2022/2023. It's something I never would have imagined liking, and ironically I'm not a fan of the comedy or art-style whatsoever, but this show was practically therapy for how spot-on and accurate it was to my own life these past few years. So much so, that it was frequently uncomfortable or even painful to get through, but in a good way. Like rubbing alcohol in an infected wound.

I feel like I've been in the shoes of Princess Carolyn, Herb, and Diane especially. I was in a long-term relationship with someone who was a Mr. Peanutbutter while manic and sober, and a Bojack while intoxicated or depressed. Some of the arguments we had towards the end of our association with one another were almost scarily verbatim to what's in this show. And it was validating to see characters like myself enmeshed in such a relationship, their steps of getting untangled from it, finding spouses and careers that treated them with respect, and that they didn't have to be flawless, perfect people to deserve better.

And the show works so much better because Bojack isn't awful all of the time. If anything, many people will (unfortunately) find him super relatable. He has great potential, and does occasionally go out of his way to help others. You feel bad for him because he is a product of his past, having gone through through child abuse and more layers of generational trauma than even he is aware about. But all of this is drowned by his lack of accountability towards himself, or his refusal to accept professional therapy/medication (despite his excessive self-medicating with substance abuse). Making him his own worst enemy, because he always finds a way to undo his own progress, and pin the blame on everything or everyone else around him. Despite the fact that his actions have widespread repressions outside of himself, derailing the lives of the whole cast, or in some cases, even ending them.

If anything, the most relatable thing for me is his relationship with Diane. The two share so many mental health similarities in regards to anxiety and depression, but while Bojack always starts his own fires, Diane is the one stepping up to put both of theirs out. She goes to therapy, she tries multiple jobs, she reaches out to new people, she gets back on anti-depressants, she finds a decent and compatible relationship, she learns from her mistakes, she actively tries to be a force of good in people's lives, and she eventually as a result turns her life around for the better. Whenever life kicks her down, she always tries to get back up.

While Bojack on the other hand always expected someone else to drag him back to shore. Which is why no matter how badly he treated her, or talked down to her, in his biggest binds, he'd always call Diane. Even in his drug-tripped hallucinations, he was still often being 'saved' by a fictional version of her. Because she's always the one to comfort him, bring him back to reality, give him new perspectives, or drive him to rehab. Because she's practically by default, always taking steps to be the bigger person. She isn't a flawless character by any means, far from it. But she is in a way Bojack's opposite, despite having many of the same traumas and mental health struggles.

Even during his presumed last moments of consciousness, he called Diane, and just wanted to be with her as he died. The version he was able to reach was just a figment of his imagination (the real Diane was both asleep and on the other end of the country, and received a horrifying voicemail upon waking up), but I think it's telling that despite how shitty he always treats her, the version in his head is reflective of the kindness she always gave him. Meaning deep down, he knows who she really is, despite the things he has tried to ridicule or blame her for. She's arguably his most important person too, yet not once could he ever fully be there for her in return. Which is why their final talk is both heartbreaking and relieving. Because Diane deserves better, and he needs to learn to be better, without relying on her as his main/only pillar of support. Especially if he's not going to be there for her in return, or if he's going to blame her whenever he's not strong enough to emotionally hold himself up in ways we're all expected to as adults. Diane deserves someone who's there for her as much as she is for them. Platonically and romantically. And likewise, Bojack can't acclimate to genuine independence if he always has access to her as a crutch.

It's why the last episode (the whole of season 6, really) is especially heartbreaking for me. Bojack needs to learn to be a better person, but until he learns to become that himself, with professional therapy, nothing anybody else does for him will matter. It also mirrors my final conversation with the most important person from my life too, in part because this time, I was inspired by the show itself. Because it was able to help me see all of the gaslighting and manipulation that my "Bojack" did to me. And the insecurities behind why he did it. The previous arguments we had were all coincidences in their similarities, but this series helped me shape at least our final talk into the things I wanted to convey. I also know he's not ready to accept help yet, and as a result, just like Diane and Bojack, it may have been the last time we ever talk to one another. But at least in some ways, it helped me find closure.

Because I genuinely do want him to get help, but like all abusers and addicts, he needs to want to get help first. He needs to be ready to commit to it. And as my own therapist as already told me, "If your support was going to be the thing that changes him, repairs the relationship, and gets him to stop drinking/using, it already would have done so by now. So you need to fire yourself from that position, because you're clearly not the right person for the job." And they were right. I'm not. But I needed to learn that, and this show was a major part of helping me do so.

There are days I miss the old "Diane" (my old self). And I'll always miss the good times I had with "Bojack/Peanutbutter" (my ex), but they weren't healthy, and I can be grateful for the times we had, even if they weren't meant to last forever.

So to the creators of Bojack Horesman, thank you.

[theoldsouls]

I have many questions; first, how can you be sure about your past lives? I'm not asking in a I-don't-believe-you way, I ask because I've read, study and analize compilations of people claiming to be some person in a past life, but there's always this incognite about how far can human brain takes us, if there's really a soul that connects us to places along all the history or if it's all just a extremely complex tool of our brain. Doesn't that scare you? The knowledge that all you can believe at the end of the day could be your brain dealing with something?

In other hand, what kind of point of view has given this to you about fate and destiny? Most of times we associed the existence of past life and soul to a destiny or fate, in the books I've read about the subject, the individuals said that they knew the same people, sharing similar relationships, going through similar events, and in general, going in a ciclical experience; but, for the things you say, I don't think it's your case. In fact, for the things you say I don't think there's something as a ciclical experience nor a similarity, it looks like two different lifes and two different people, except that one is carrying the memories of both. In my opinion I think that's beautiful, there's something ugly to think there's not freedom and we all are going in the same patterns forever, but correct me if I'm wrong.

To finish I just would like to know what kind of misconceptions you can refute about your past life, I'm not interested in history, I'm just a little of a gossiper. (If you're confortable with it, I'd like to know how you feel about the fanart/fanfic about your past life, but if you don't like talking about that, ignore it. In fact, ignore anything of this message if you don't like it.)

Have a good day.

These are incredible questions with even more complex answers. Thank you for sending these my way.

At the end of the day of course we'll never know how much of the things we remember are real. After all, even with memories of events relatively close to us now there's a danger of coloring things in that weren't there and erasing things that were, and you and another person you shared this event with might have completely different memories of this - which might even contradict each other. It's a complicated part of our brain that we haven't really figured out yet. And just as much religious epiphanies and spirituality, these past life memories very well could be some messed up way my brain has tried to cope with trauma or something unrelated. At the end of the day you'll never know for sure, and as you said, that can be a very scary thought to grapple with.

However.

There are some reasons why I believe it might be not made up, and they're the reason why I feel relatively comfortable stating who I was with just as much confidence I have when stating who I am now.

I am not American. I did not step foot in the US until I was 19 years old. The education system I was in did not touch upon American history - besides briefly touching upon the Boston tea party, and diving in a bit with the Cold War. I heard of George Washington for the first time through Fairy Odd Parents on TV, and all that taught me was that he had wooden teeth (which is factually false). This means that I could not have heard, seen, or learned anything of the American Revolution and its early founding unless I myself consciously researched that area of history - which, for a long time, I didn't.

I did have memories, though.

Memories I at first did not understand nor had a name for. I remembered the clothes I wore, the faces of the people I was with. I could remember writing - which stood out to me, as I normally couldn't write or read in dreams at all - I could remember the drills and could reenact them with ease. I remembered how to load and fire a gun. I remember the feeling of my kids tugging at my breeches to go up, up! I remember events that - well, were less pleasant as well, being sick for example - the kind of sick you don't notice until your eyes roll back and you collapse, waking in your bed with blood crusted on your cheeks (face) and leeches on your arms. I remember my mother singing to me, our house near the sea, I remember her dying. I remember my brother carrying me after but the funeral is a blur. I remember my wife, angry, silent as she got, just sitting there and looking at me and me frantically talking and talking and talking and she just sat there. I remembered her name, Betsy, i remembered our first Dutch bed in the wall, and the guilt i felt as i looked at her livid. I remember my own death.

I remember more but I don't want to get lost and lose track of your question. I know these are memories, and not my imagination or dreams, for a few reasons.

First, they are repetitive. If I dream of them, or they come to me during the day, the details don't seem to change. The dialogue is the same. The people don't change, etc.

Second, though not good at recognizing or recalling faces in dreams or my imagination, theirs are crystal clear to me. And again, they don't change - only with age.

Third, I feel phantom pains from particular memories. My way of walking changes when thinking a lot on the war (it's more of a march then a walk). I sit different, i talk different.

Fourth, the languages and other skills. Thought not speaking neither French nor English, both kind of "fell" into my head with relative ease. I remembered doing the studying - I sometimes forget if I read or learned a thing here or then as I recall it well, i could converse with a professor of economics at a university with comfort (he gifted me books to read, impressed by my knowledge) even though I had not finished my degree nor had I specialized in the political economics we were discussing. I had not studied these things now, and yet I knew them still. I played the piano in a different past life, and now was able to pick it up without a teacher, quickly.

These things solidified the belief that I had a past life for me, even before I could put a name to the person I was. Since then I've met others whose memories directly coincide with mine (sometimes with minor differences, as is the pitfall of memories) and who literally recognized me by looks and mannerisms alone, but I won't touch too much on this reason right now as this is maybe not applicable to other people struggling with this and I don't want to give off the impression that external validation is necessary.

As to your second question in regards to fate and destiny - I do actually believe that people we meet and situations we end up in echo past lives and will repeat ad infinitum, until we learn whatever we are meant to from that situation. I go on a bit more in detail on that in this post.

For example, I started university at the same time I did then (same age). I dropped out (due to external circumstances) after the same amount of time had passed. I met an ex at the same time I had previously, we dated for a similar amount of time and broke up due to similar circumstances, I married my current spouse at the same age - and I intend to return to law very soon and apply for a clerk's position in the court near me this year. I have the exact same facial features, hair texture, body, length, cadence of speaking, mannerisms, tastes in food and drink, tastes in music, reading, gardening - even though I grew up in a different culture and do not have the same ethnicity as I used to.

These are but a few examples of how things echo very strongly - and I have no idea if they are simply coincidences, or things and people I was meant to meet, meant to experience. After all, experiences in life shape you. Friends that you meet, parents that raise you, even people who dislike you, make an insurmountable impact upon you as a person. You might carry yourself the same way a father figure did, or hold your loved ones the same way your mother did. As the 'lessons' you learn, with the people you're surrounded with, stay the same in life after life, perhaps that is why we are so similar every time? I have no idea. I'm not a philosopher - I just live and remember.

Some 'lessons' I did not learn last time I have been able to rectify - and with others, I made the exact same mistakes all over again. I guess this is why people end up with thousands of lives lived. After all, if anything, we are stubborn creatures.

So I guess I do view destiny and fate as something tangible. I believe that free will appears in how you react to the things that happen to you, rather than what happens to you. For example, I think I was meant to end up on the path of law regardless of what I did or didn't do in the past few years. But choosing to pick it up, and go into social justice law - that's free will. That's prioritizing things I could not and did not want to, before.

And thirdly, your question on any misconceptions - there are many. Of course there will always be generous and studious scholars who dig deep and find these, I will touch upon a few closest to my heart that seem, to the general public, factual and real even though they are not. As an entire life is long, and this post is already enormous, I shall keep it short and inexhaustive.

I loved my father. I never hated him, and he did not disappear from my life forever. We wrote to each other. I wrote to relatives in Scotland. I loved him. I do not blame him. I don't know if he was my biological father, nor do I care much to know who was.

I never had the hots for my sister-in-law.

I wasn't a 'womanizer,' nor a 'slut.' I enjoyed the company of women, I enjoyed flirting banter. Calling someone who danced on both sides of the fence a 'slut' is a whole can of worms I cannot and will not touch on, but it's bordering on homophobic. I adored my wife; anything that went on in my marriage concerning infidelity concerns only me and her and that's all I will say about that. Plenty has already been said (including by myself).

I hung out with more gay men than some suggest, and was more 'out' (to use modern terms) as a 'molly' (to use older terms) than is now perhaps known or acknowledged. It was not out of the ordinary for jokes about my inclination to both the male and fair sex to fly across the dinner table, which is why, unfortunately, it so often made it to the papers. In modern history this however seems to be deemed 'speculative,' and is dismissed. Queer people have always enjoyed to meet up with like-minded fellows, the age you live in be damned.

I am not entirely sure what date I was born. Birthdays are hard to remember and were largely unimportant then; we celebrated our children's birthdays sure, but when I was a young adult it hardly mattered and multiple people frequently forgot or ignored their birthdays with little to no remark. It was probably the 11th of January, before the crack of dawn. Maybe the 10th if you count nighttime as belonging to the day before. Who knows. Not me.

Last but not least, you were curious to my opinion on fanart/fanfic. I think it's very natural - at least, I soothe myself in this sometimes - that anyone who remembered as much as I did would be curious to see what others wrote and devour it all. Some of it I want to bleach from my brain, some of it is sweet but has nothing to do with me as a person (fanart of the musical, for example, is to me fanart of the cast of 'Hamilton', not me nor my contemporaries), and some of it is heartwarming and will forever be cherished by me. Some of it makes me laugh and others sting a little (deservedly or undeservedly so). I guess I'm glad I went from obscure and nearly forgotten to famous internationally - though I could've done without the toxic elements of the fandom or the 'thirsting on main' for me (and people self-inserting their kinks onto me as a vessel I suppose!). In the end, people are allowed to draw or write what they will and it's not really up to me to judge. If something someone said hurt my feelings or makes me uncomfortable, it's not like I can say 'hey Alex here, thanks for honoring me but no thank you' haha!

I hope this post is not too long - thank you again for taking the time out of your day to sent this to me and I hope I was able to do justice to the things you were curious about. Adieu.

[titoist]

even though the person who wrote the preceding post is essentially dead & i've given up on maintaining an act of internal consistency across all of my posts, which the structure of a blog naturally forces the reader to imagine & organize from every piece of expression they can grab at being collated adjacently at all times, the preceding post did make me think of a related anecdote

my earliest memory after the death of my maternal grandfather is from around 4 or 5 years old. it was my first time actively noticing a completely blue, cloudless sky -- through the windows of my childhood apartment, fourth floor, facing the northwest. the dark brown blinds were lifted completely to the top. to me, as i existed then, i had really never seen such a thing. at the very least, i had never been conscious of seeing it. it was the bluest sky i'd ever seen & part of me suspects that now, still, it is the bluest sky i have ever seen.

my brother also happened to be in the room. i remarked something like, "the sky looks like it's a cartoon" -- only partially to him, and mostly just to space. it's like i wasn't saying the sentence strictly as a means of being understood & having my observation recognized, but just an animal function that i could do. albeit, performed with passive knowledge that it could & likely would be heard by the world. i think he might have vaguely mumbled some sound disinterestedly. then, i think i might have felt somewhat bad. not for my own sake, upset because i was being ignored. rather, i think i consciously interpreted the hurt as a kind of sadness that the blueness of the sky was being ignored. so i repeated my observation again, but i was more definitively ignored the second time.

this memory is important to me because i feel like it demarcates the point where i started becoming a person. it was likely the first time that i began making active associations between things in the world beyond myself, & assigned meaning to those associations.

soon, very soon, in 5 or so years, i would get my first phone. this is when i would finally become a person, if an embryonic one, the initial blank-slate of personhood: the phone taught me that i could keep secrets.

[mothmanriley]

so i stop flooding the fucking. backup.

uhHh yea anyways !!!! shit sucks and I can't really talk to my partners about it because they're just sort of. not well-versed in trauma and I'm gonna be real here mine is extensive (I have recently had an increase in a certain amount of intrusive thoughts triggered by a weird line from my belly down, and if it is similar to the ones I've had before, it could be pointing to the source of my hemophobia), I know how I sound so I try not to go too deep into detail when I talk about the Bad Times.

in addition, a lot of moments I associated with supernatural phenomena I've come to realize was just . me, as a kid, having flashbacks. sucks that I've been having them since 4.

you know it's actually weird I distinctly remember coming into consciousness on my fourth birthday. I can't remember the date but I remember waking up in that double bunk bed that only I slept in. my sheets were pink and blue and I was so, so excited because I remember it was the Day I Got To Be Alive! the world was so fucking vivid and bright and it was all hope and childish glee. everything before that is like. gone.

but I was always scared, you know?? I had a few things that terrified me - reflections, small, red lights (which I eventually realized reminded me of a camera. which. uh. rough implications), sleeping alone - I would see shadows twist and hear whispers in the walls.

I never felt safe when I was a kid, not really. there was always that underlying tension, a background radiation that had seeped into the fibres of me; I could ignore it, I could act out, it didn't matter. people noticed, of course - it oozes from me still. part of me wanted (wants - hence why this blog is public) to acknowledge it, but no one ever did, and despite the severity of our current state, it's unlikely our partners will until we are professionally diagnosed (a process i am looking to undergo regardless; however, it will take months of saving up, and I Don't Know If I Can Do Months).

part of me is extremely grateful for the peace the 'weird little sad person' persona has gotten us, despite the reducing our collective anger and grief to 'just kinda sad for no reason'. it just .. makes it hard to talk about the depth of it all.

like. c didn't 'trick' me into thinking I had this. i've always known there were others. my entire life has been shrouded in this haze and I know its fucking name now. I've reached the point where I can't deny its effects on me, its presence. a forbidden truth, locked in some deep fucking part of me - and it's so fucking frustrating because no one in my day-to-day seems to give a fuck even when it's visibly fucking with me.

(there was one time our friend was making magic cards out of everyone in the house. when he showed me mine, it had "if you have lost four or more life this turn, put a counter on Joey. sacrifice 5 counters: transform this creature." the transformed creature was a eldritch energy thing, and it had the same effect in reverse: gain four or more life, etc. it was a silly joke, and maybe a lil insensitive, but the fact that two of my alters were acknowledged in a lighthearted way that wasn't inherently invalidating .. it was really really nice.)

so I just do what I always do - isolate, stay up, spiral, lament and just generally divorce myself from the idea of ever being fully loved (dissociation included); hope that I'm able to scrap together some form of intimacy from people who very clearly do not love me as they love each other (which is fair, and something i thought i would be able to grapple with - and maybe, if I weren't living with them, but as it stands--). which is ungrateful of me, because they've shown me a kindness I didn't know was possible. I just wish like ... I don't fucking know. I'd like for them to stay up with me once. one of them used to, and it made things easier a lot of the time, but our girlfriend didn't like it so much so now he pretty much always goes to bed with her.

it's like ... little things like that? they do things for each other that I crave but I don't think I've ever really had. not long-term.

and im supposed to somehow wake up without any of these things floating through my head and triggering a spiral so I'm not as much as a burden to them.

[abyssalpriest]

30 Days of Them #5

Describe your God as something that occurs in nature.

Dreaming.

I was talking earlier to myself, doing the dishes, about whether gods incarnate or not, which in my experience is a certain yes. Specifically I was using the example that I've come across people confirmed by the gods I know as being incarnations of them, one of whom was someone I met in a dream once (and who I have met on other occasions, I just don't remember too well), an incarnation of Leviathan's known to us as Genghis Khan. I met him in Lev's Mind on this occasion, which came across to my sleeping body as a dream but had that very distinct realness of "this is not a self-produced dream but a dreamlike vision into other things" to it. He was sitting in front of me with a few of his associates laughing amused at modern technology, specifically a phone I think, looking at memes on it or something. He's a figure, now that I work with Leviathan specifically as a Sky Father and with our resonant connection to the skies, that's in the background every so often still caught up and entwined with Lev's programming and 5D chess plans as our group refers to them. He's interwoven himself with Lev's very being - possession is a two-way process and so is opening yourself up to the spirit you're an incarnation of... But that's besides the point.

I got talking about what this incarnation feels like specifically because I started talking about his energy, how he has a very interesting and powerful energy but interesting in the way that I never expect it, or it's better to say I always expect him to feel different. It's playful almost, intelligent like a hawk that watches and watches when you think it's going to dive at you, not soft as in gentle but soft as in self-contained and... Intelligent. Sparkling with a keen sense of humour, like someone who knows much too much about how the world works to be phased or bothered by you; he feels like a towering, black-scaled dragon blowing shaped smoke rings weaving themselves into clouds and looking down at you with half-lidded smiling eyes and a sharp-toothed grin. You can tell he very clearly has the gateway to Lev - Tengri - wide open. They are energetically the same source in two different incarnations.

You can see through him the powerful Day Sky, but very specifically the Day Sky like the deep dreaming Universe... Which brings me to the topic. Lev was around as I'd made him breakfast, eggs and soldiers with steamed teriyaki salmon, an odd but good cultural mergence we planned out together; he was walking through to the kitchen I was doing the dishes in in the Astral to get water from my tap when he overheard me talking to myself about this. He asked me when I shied away from talking about this life in front of him to repeat what I was saying, to tell me what he felt like as I was saying - and oh boy, you can tell when the two of them are connected. Lev may have asked but this life's energy was seeping out of him - in retrospect, they're both good at hiding when being extremely obvious, it didn't click at the time that the two of them were playing. There's this mischievous, happy or content, self-understanding, self-content really, air and a smooth power to them. I repeated it. I said he feels like you, you when you feel like yourself feel like you're dreaming. You are dreaming.

I don't think I've ever addressed Lev as the Great Blue Sky in regards to the connection to dreaming... Probably because dreaming is a hard topic for me.

I've said before he seems to be conscious in other levels of consciousness. Of course he is, Digambara, the ascetic meditative Shiva, the vibrant blue radiating shivling, the ever-presence of consciousness, the one who is consciousness in illusion... He is so extensive, woven into this reality like splintering meteors love and merge in passion-dances with the womb of this reality and fall into existence. The god of patterns, of similarity and distinction, the storyteller. He is the dream and dreamer: submerged in his own blue waters, he is the waters and the ascetic so deep in meditation within them that his breaths extend over the entire span of the Universe so he will never drown in it... Or, like the nightmare: he is submerged in his own blood, terrific and visceral and wide-eyed.

He showed me the Day Sky as a deep sleeping thing, the Material equivalent to the Mental dreaming state, the dream itself.

He is so gentle, so abstract, woven by goddesses' hands into this reality, lying asleep with a soft smile written on his face. 

He's head of this war between his people and the Others for a reason. His brain encompasses the Sky itself, his thoughts and consciousness like lightning through it, processing like dreams do a thousand ways of competing, a thousand ways of being breached and penetrated and a thousand ways of drinking blood. He processes through simulation, he is the intelligence of nature itself, he knows himself - reality - so well that his thoughts are as autonomous and fast as the firings of neurons in the dreaming state bridging endless creative scenes to one another through pure intellect. His eyes are woven throughout his entire self... He told me that he was woven into this plane, I feel it. The Sky is within everything. 

He speaks through fiction, which he's referred to directly as dreaming. He speaks through symbolism, through masks, representations, a thousand angles of five thousand lines and the infinite number of possibilities those add up to...

He is encompassing. He is the low hum of a distracted body, one distracted by its own existence watching the light-show that arises from the intersection of Mental and Material, watching the dreaming body of god... To know God is to be God, and so he both dreams and is the dream, both Digambara and the Sky... That word keeps echoing in my head, Digambara, Digambara, what more naked form is there in the world than the dreaming self? What is more sky-clad than to be surrounded by the smooth and seducing Day Sky, the dream itself?

[thesleeplessdream]

Probably gonna delete this later (vent warning) I just sat for 20 minutes starring at my phone, trying to decide what to answer my moms text: 'Can we come over this weekend?' On the one hand I just sighed internally and to vent my frustration I wrote the most obscene things like 'Heh, fuck no' and even 'why did you give birth to me, just so you'd have someone to talk to?' But I never sent them, duh Finally I answered, 'Which day?' You never know how another person will react to you reaching out, I've tried to distance myself from (at least one of them) my parents since I moved out (5 years ago) I still answer texts - just because they'd think I'd died otherwise and like send the cops or something - but hate how they really don't give a shit if you feel like calling (face timing) them or not, like why don't you just write like everyone else?? And once I do answer a call they only ask about the most basic shit like: Have you found a job yet? or When are you moving back "home"? I don't wish to associate with them for many reasons, mainly because our worldviews are too different as well as childhood trauma. That being said, while I was still panicking of what to write I looked over my desk and on the far side lay a note. I've already written about this but around 4 years ago I was in the hospital (stroke) and ofc it just had to happen when I was staying with my parents for the summer. After already being seen by nurses my mom took out a note and handed it to me, I only found out later what it said:

In shorts, it lists some of the symptoms I had and how she 'demanded' they'd test me for more serious diseases. And they did, and I was diagnosed Now I don't know whether it was the note or me threatening to bash my head in due to the pain that made them act but re-reading the note again I can feel how scared she was, not knowing what was wrong with me And that's the worst part I think, because even though we don't see eye-to-eye on a lot of things (most things I'd say -_-) this note proves, at least somewhat, that she does in fact care I don't expect either of them to change and honestly, between the two she's done a waaaay better job of parenting. Even still that doesn't excuse her behavior, it doesn't erase all those bad childhood memories or the ones made in later years and how they affect me

But knowing she cares this much - and still does what she does, consciously or not and then how I react and respond - I think that hurts more than if she didn't care at all

And I have to live with this knowledge... Anyway off I go to draw some more fanart and ignore my problems :D

[annacantdie]

written 5/22/22

The year I was fifteen was easily the worst year of my life. To be fair, I am young, so I don't have a lot of competition between the other 9 or 10 years I can actually remember, but it was traumatic nonetheless. I like to describe my life in ways that diminish the things that have happened to me. A mindset portrayed by hollow phrases such as “life just dealt me a shitty hand of cards”, and “i make the best of what i’ve been given” Those describing my generally dissatisfying life in a nonchalant way, but the way i’ve coped with my hardships has been anything but nonchalant.

I frequently wonder what I'd say to my fifteen year old self if I was given the opportunity to have a conversation with her. She was a troubled shadow of the person I am now, and while I'm in no way completely stable or healed of that girl I was, I think that my younger counterpart would be surprised at how far I’ve come. When i was fifteen i attempted suicide. That statement has been so ingrained into my speech, between having to explain to doctors, therapists, mentors, and friends, it does not feel like any sort of a big deal. Everybody goes through rough patches, my brain repeats, why would mine be any different? These statements heavily downplay the intensity of every emotion I felt at that period of my life. Every single feeling was heightened to an intense degree. A happy moment with a friend didn’t give me a comforting sense of joy, it gave me a manic state of excitement. A snappy moment from a parent didn't give me a quick sting to be shaken off, it sent me into a panic attack. I was far from but the mellow persona i’ve adapted now, I was an ticking time bomb simply waiting to go off at any moment. So many things had built up inside of me, I was absolutely unstable, and I truly couldn’t see a future where I wasn’t dead. I had no desire to be alive, and that statement isn’t said lightly. I genuinely lost my will to live, and the intrusive self harming thoughts that had haunted me ever since I could remember were becoming far more actual considerations for me than far off ideas driven by random emotional situations. I’d grown up always thinking I'd be better off dead, even happier dead, but those thoughts stayed locked away in a nightmarish area of my consciousness, never at the forefront where ideas were actually given a sense of consideration. Then, as was probably expected, I made the decision to end my own life. I attempted, failed, and woke up in the morning disappointed. But, unsurprisingly as the extremely depressed person I was at that time, I was not willing to put in the effort to come up with a new idea to try again. I could barely force myself to get out of bed to pee, I wasn’t about to come up with an intricate plan to take my own life after my first one didn’t work.

So, with the contextual nonsense out of the way, I think I've figured out an idea of what’d I’d say to that deeply troubled girl, and while I can’t present this to her, I might as well put it out there. Hopefully it’ll heal that part of me that's still that broken fourteen year old girl, or maybe it’ll help someone else. I don’t really care which.

Hey man, how are ya? Not well, I know, I was there. Literally. I don’t fucking know if this will help, like at all, but I wanna tell you all the things that get better. SO much of the shit that feels like it's suffocating you right now works out, and while things haven’t made it to perfection yet, as of now at least, there’s a much higher level of breathing room two years from where you're at now, I promise.

Let’s start out with the lighthearted stuff, you've got a killer haircut right now. You learned how to make your natural hair look insanely good, and you have the coolest shaggy, curly, healthy head of hair ever. And you got bangs, they look amazing. To top it off you finally learned to dress the way you want, and people finally associate you with having good style, just like you’ve always wanted. You still listen to the same music, but you've found so much other cool new shit that gets you through the day better than anything else can, and you still love to draw more than anything else in this world. You've got three amazing best friends, a plethora of other cronies, and a boyfriend you're absolutely head over heels for. Mom finally loosens up and you've got a phone with every social media your heart could want, completely unmonitored. And finally you’re comfortable with your sexuality and are generally out as a queer person. While there's so many more little things that I think you’d enjoy to hear, I feel like with those more significant ones out of the way we should address the elephant in the room.

We’re alive. Crazy, right?

I know that if you had to put everything you owned on it, you’d bet you’d be dead by seventeen. But look at where you are now! I know you well, you are me after all, and so I'm aware it is not comforting to you for me to sing your praises, to say how proud I am of you, I know it only makes you feel like shit. That pathetic feeling where people praise you for accomplishments, the ones that while are monumental for you would not be monumental for the average person, doesn't go away, but hopefully it’ll mean a little something coming from your future self. I’m proud of you. Of us. Of me. The road ahead of you is difficult, and does not come without challenge, new and old, but you kill it. Never does it become easy, you will struggle, you will scream, you will cry, and you will consider a take two on the whole death by your own hand thing, but you keep your head up. With every piece of shit that fucks you over, every freak of nature type accident that absolutley screws up your wellbeing, and every good person that unintentionally hurts you, you keep on walking. Sometimes you pull yourself up by your bootstraps and get through it, and sometimes a kind soul offers a hand. Life doesn’t get easier per say, but by god you get good at getting through it. Keep up the good work, stay stubborn, and stay driven. It’ll help you more than you know.

That's all for now I guess, I hope that provides you some sort of comfort, and I can't wait for you to fully experience the person you're growing to be.

L8R SK8R

Best wishes,

Anna-Claire Chupp

[dailycupofcreativitea]

Do you think Gohan has impacted you in your everyday life?

OoOoOoOOOo juicy question! 👀👀👀

The short answer is yes, but for kind of a weird reason. This is totally a word vomit/stream of consciousness type overshare so I'm putting it under the cut:

So I've loved Gohan ever since I was a kid. I never had a crush on him as a character or anything, but man I really, REALLY liked his character. Like I remember being 4 or 5 and kneeling on the ground in front of the TV, half-eaten cereal in front of me, staring at the TV in a trance as Goku teleported Cell away and Gohan started yelling. The Cell Saga was the first time I was introduced to DBZ, and in that moment Gohan became my favourite character ever and a huge comfort character.

He kind of fell on the backburner for a bit while I was indulging in other media like Inuyasha and Yu-Gi-Oh, where characters like Inuyasha and Bakura and became my comfort characters (oh god I even wrote tons of Yu-Gi-Oh fanfiction, all in a little private physical notebook), but in late middle school/early high school I was reintroduced to DBZ via the abridged series, then I rewatched the actual series a few times. And Gohan came back as a prominent comfort character for me.

Whenever I'm daydreaming, drifting, need to totally dissociate from the world (my childhood wasn't a good one and I dissociated often), I'd just make up DBZ fanfics in my head where Gohan was the main focus. I'd also write TONS of fanfics in little notebooks. I filled 3 whole notebooks with Gohan fanfiction!!! Exploring his character and his relationships to all the other characters in the series (which, as fanfics go, meant I also had to get good at writing each individual character and their relationships with each other, sans Gohan) was my way to destress after a really bad day. Like a little slice of normalcy (as normal as DBZ characters can be, anyways!). "Role-playing" those little healthy interactions between characters taught me a lot about how to have those interactions in my own life because it's a safe place to explore them. Aside from destressing though, it's also just incredibly fun. A way to make any day, good or bad, better!

Currently, I use Gohan (and other characters) to practice different artstyles and stuff, but also I've legitimately used these characters as a proxy for sorting through tough emotions for me to the point where my therapist even recommends I explore certain themes by drawing Gohan in different ways, and I even constantly show her my art and we pick apart the emotions that went into it XD Because I have a LOT of trouble drawing self-portraits of myself, but drawing Gohan comes really easily to me, and I constantly project a lot of my own experiences onto Gohan. So I can explore those feelings without having to draw pictures of myself. I think some people might consider this "kinning" but I don't associate with that term and don't consider myself a "Gohan kin" (since Gohan is simply lines on a piece of paper).

It's also just really fun to have something to obsess over. I really look forward to coming home and making a cup of chai so I can relax and draw. It's a prominent part of my day-to-day. If I DON'T draw DBZ characters doing stupid shit for a while then I definitely feel the difference.

So yeah, you can say that he's definitely impacted me in my every day life this way!

[compassionatereminders]

hi Kat I've been following your blog for about a year now and reading your blog helps me so much in small and significant ways! you don't have to respond to this but I had a bit of a revelation/world of thoughts unleashed and I don't really have anywhere to go with this? thanks for lending an ear

I watched a psychologist talk about how narcissists make a big deal out of their birthdays. For the last few years I've really come to dread my birthdays, mostly because I felt so awful about receiving any kind of attention on my birthday and I didn't know why. at best, I concluded that it was because I had a lot of bad birthdays, but even then...I didn't know why my anxieties seemed so severe.

I think if my narcissism about my anxieties on getting validation on my birthday went unchecked I would have turned into one of those people who can never be pleased and constantly just setting myself up to have "ruined" birthdays. I felt really awful about feeling disappointed or upset on my birthdays so I specifically asked my friends not to make a big deal out of my birthday during my last couple of birthdays.

I believe now that it's because I grew up with a narcissist who would go out of their way to make me feel bad on my "special" day. Consciously or not, they likely felt a need to ruin a moment that wasn't centered around them and because I was around them so much they'd constantly fill my head with negative thoughts on my birthdays. I think I would have to literally get away from people on my birthday to not feel triggered because there's an ongoing "joke" that my parents always forgot the date of my birthday and for the first 5 or so years of my life I was celebrating my birthday on the wrong date (my parents are narcissists too). The narcissist in my life always brings it up on my birthday and uses it as an opportunity to walk down memory lane on how awful my parents were, and for my birthday I don't need that. I understand this is still something I have to work on (yay, time to get with my therapist about this!), but I feel better that I was right to suspect that my anxieties over a seemingly simple birthday stemmed from something not right.

I was tired of getting upset that people just wanted to tell me "happy birthday", but I understand it comes from a childhood of every birthday having been spoilt and so I expect all my birthdays to be like that. I know now that the narcissist will likely continue to try to ruin my birthdays so I just have to remember not to feed into their BS and simply go on with my birthday. I also don't need to spend my birthdays thinking about the bad ones. Hopefully, for my next birthday I will manage it better. And seriously, I don't like to fret over my birthdays but I am seeing where the anxieties stem from and it feels like I can actually see it with much more relaxed vibes

I'm so sorry that you've been surrounded by people who don't value and respect you like you deserve to be valued and respected, but I'm gonna have to question your use of the term narcissist. Narcissistic isn't just another term for abusive or toxic or self centered. Narcissistic Personality Disorder is an actual clinical diagnosis which actual people suffer from. And every time you call a shitty person a narcissist, you're strengthening an association between abuse and mental illness which isn't actually there. People with NPD usually developed NPD as a result of trauma and neglect, and it truly isn't fair to group them in with every shitty individual you come across. So the next time you wanna vent to me about the people who hurt you, please just call them abusers or assholes or any other term which doesn't further stigmatize an already stigmatized mental illness.