#“the gayes creature to ever exist”

[rubix-kii-ube]

Unicorn-Butterfly-Duckling

made for @ate-the-wordsmith's novel

smol. fit in hand floofy pan?

[neirawrites]

I was a Twihard in high school. Then I was a Twilight hater. In  2018, I decided to reread the first book, to see for myself on which side I belonged. I wrote my thoughts as I read, in multiple parts, but on my main blog, so I thought I might share them on my writeblr too, because I kinda had fun with it. 

Enjoy my many, many notes

Pages 0-50

I’m actually kinda into it. Yeah, there are a many issues every article on editing tells you to fix (filter words, -ing verbs and things like that), but i feel it. I don’t know what it is, but it’s there.

Bella isn’t that bad of a protagonist. Nothing too spectacular, but she’s fine. She is depressed, self sacrificing and hides her feelings, but also a lot more self aware than i though she would be(like when she notices mike, my son, likes her). She’s a typical teenage girl, the introverted type, way into reading. there’s nothing wrong with that.

I don’t know why i remember Edward being a draco in leather pants,but he’s also fine for now. mysterious and handsome and a bit weird. The first real conversation they have, he’s polite and nice and charming. I expected him to be a dick for like 150 pages at least.

Pages 50-100

I’m still really into it.

Yeah,Edward kinda ghosts her/gaslights her after the whole van incident, but with the benefit of hindsight,i kinda get it. It’s a wonder he didn’t pick up his entire family and moved to Alaska again. I also get her mood during that time and I've been there so i feel ya,Bella,it’s not your fault.

And yeah, Bella gets invited to the dance by three different guys and it’s all kinds of fan fic-y, but the fact she turns them down furthers my belief she’s wake up married to Edward in like a few years and realize she would rather be with Rosalie (a solid choice, might i add).

Edward’s really pushy, especially when it comes to the scene after she faints. like, let her go, you jerk, she can drive herself, but he’s more weird than he’s a jerk and i think that was intentional.

A big surprise was the line “what if i’m not the hero, what if i’m the bad guy?” which isn’t this super cheesy, extra dramatic sentence but a jokey joke told with a laugh. actually, that whole conversation in the cafeteria where she tries to guess what he is is gold and don’t try to tell me otherwise.

I’m reading her interests in him as less of a romantic thing, and more of frustration at his behavior,like she would still be fascinated by him if he wasn’t so hot because he’s just so weird (but being hot is definitely a plus).

Plot? What plot?

Still, while the flaws are there, i’m still enjoying it very much.

Pages 100-150

Is Stephanie Meyer into anime? Cuz she wrote a harem light novel,that’s what she did and that’s how i’ll read it from now on and have more fun doing it. (Might make a post elaborating on this further).

All this to say that we got to Jacob. Not gonna lie, I kinda forgot about him.  He seems like a nice kid and i’m glad Bella has some positive interaction. Team jacoj 4 life (jk,man,i was team jasper in high school which is in retrospect very weird of me). I know he becomes a friend-zoned dudebro later, but for now, he’s fine.

Meyer, lady, you’re winning me over as a half hearted defender of your work, but why are the girls so bitchy? Yeah,i know, bitchy girls exist in real life, especially in high schools,but girls are our friends and we need more positive female on female interactions. Just my personal preference, I guess.

Things are getting interesting. Bella’s dreaming weird dreams (just fyi, not a big fan of dream scenes in general), she’s googling like crazy  and we’re going to Port Angeles.

I never felt she has any sort of affection for Angela or Jessica who seem really nice and have done nothing wrong. Like loosen up Bella, give them a chance. I know, depression makes you into a bitch sometimes, but it would warm me up to her character if she was a little more affectionate with people around her.

That whole scene where she almost gets at best beaten up and mugged and at worst raped and killed is… not my favorite part of the whole thing. I get what Meyer needed to do, to have her be saved by Edward, but there must have been a better way to go about it. What do I know? I’m the queen of forced plot contrivances. I do like their conversation at the restaurant (again, why do we hate the female waitress, Steph?). I don’t know why, I expected Edward to be mad at Bella for what happened to her and he seems genuinely concerned and his anger feels… human. Some of his actions, however, do not.

He stalked her which is weird and creepy and I hate it. Don’t stalk people, Edward. most of us don’t like it. you’re lucky Bella’s a weirdo.

150-200

I kinda love how ok she’s with the whole vampire thing. she’s just “well, this kid i barely know told me a scary story, so i guess the guy from school is a vampire. it be like that sometimes.” my first assumption would be it’s all an elaborate prank to make fun of me (i have some deep seeded trust issues origins of which remain unknown). and he’s waaay to quick to confirm her suspicions. I think there’s an explanation in the part of midnight sun that got leaked, but that was like a century ago.

I would criticize her for being ride or die with Edward so fast, falling in love with him so quickly, but i exchanged like 5 sentences with a cute girl last night and a part of is ready to propose based on the artiness of her instagam, so who the eff am i to judge?

and i get why he’s fascinated with her. she’s the only one he can’t read.

why? i don’t think that question ever gets a good enough answer, but it’s a fictional story about a girl falling in love with a sparky vampire. i’m not here for complex science or detailed explanations.

he seems waaay too protective of her. She’s a big girl, Ed, she can take care of herself. It’s actually kinda annoying. i dislike how he treats like a child a lot of the time. he seems pretty condescending. also, if he broke her car, i’m taking back everything nice i said about him.

ok, let me finally address bella’s biggest character flaw, her clumsiness. i mean, i get why she has it but Meyer goes a bit too hard on it. i’m clumsy, i really am, full of bruises, always bumping into things, but Bella can’t walk 20 meters without tripping. i guess i’m just glad she becomes a vampire in the book four, otherwise the book five would have been about her struggles when she’s diagnosed with a stage four inoperable brain tumor that’s been mesing with her sense of balance and the whole things turns into a weird version of the fault in our starts.

if i were writing it i would focus on her trust issues and being unable to form real bonds with other people as her main flaw, maybe even use it to try and justify the whole thing with the mind Edward can’t read. Like, she’s too different in a way that makes her unable to connect even on a basic level, like that one Blue whale that sings at a different frequency than all the others. Idk,i write pulpy sci fi. but it’s easy to be a general after the battle.

we got to the two infamous lines:

how are you? 17. how long have you been 17?  is another line that’s more jokey than i though it would be, but also the most realistic piece of dialogue in this book. i would so ask the same thing.

About three things I was absolutely positive. First, this paragraph has been memed to death. Second, there was a part of me-and I didn’t know how potent that part might be-that would know every word of it till the day i died. And third, I was unconditionally and irrevocably in like with it.

200-300

Not gonna lie, the whole part where he goes around asking her questions he is legitimately interested in knowing the answers to is at the same time my kinkiest fantasy and my deepest fear. like, yaaas, daddy, get to know me on the personal level and don’t be turn off by the fact i’m a tabula rasa.

We got to the infamous meadow scene and Bella is sooo horny on main for that vampire stake it’s actually kinda funny. She gets so effing into it she faints. I fucking love this girl. Go get that adonis dick, Bella, you deserve it.

I don’t mind vampires sparkle.i mean,it’s lame and fanfic-y but in Bosnia we have the lampires so vampires are creatures with a high dose of plasticity. i don’t know why that was like the worst thing anyone has ever done to the vampires. They are kinda too strong and could use a real weakness tho.  

So the lion fell in love with the lamb is kind of another joke. Also, this is the skin of a killer is sadly just in the movie.

I do have the feeling he likes the project that he sees in Bella more than the real girl,but ok. Also stop nagging her. He watches her sleep. What a creep. I don’t know why, but the fact that he’s a vampire who doesn’t have to sleep makes it kinda less creepy for me. I don’t know why.

But “if i could dream at all i would be about you,” is the kind of ultracheese i can get behind. they are both such teenagers and i kinda looooove it.

Also non of the boys were her type is such a lesbian excuse. I feel ya Bella, i feel ya. I hope you discover your gayness after the end of breaking dawn.

We meet the cullens and every single one of them has a backstory like 528 times more interesting than Edward. i need novels about them, all of them ffs. it would be so cool. but, one of my favorite oc’s Errien Lark gets like 30 lines in the whole book so i can only be as harsh on Meyer as on myself (which is to say a lot. neither of us deserve these characters, honestly)

This book would have been more interesting if Bella fell in love in any other cullen. Like, Bella and Alice, Bella and jasper (Bella and Jasper and Alice. Sorry, i’m into solving love triangles with ot3s).Bella and Rosalie, Calilise, Esme, even Emmett, who i remember  as mike of the vampires, but it’s been a decade.

300 pages in and plot is yet to happen, but it’s ok. we have the vampire baseball next.

the last part.

get your hot takes! hot takes right here

I kinda like billy. He seems like a nice guy. Also billy/charlie as my new otp.

“The beautiful one,the godlike one.” Bella, you are such a teen.

The less fucks she has about him being an all powerful ancient creature of the night who can murder her in a heartbeat, the funnier it is. She is just soo casual about it. Comedy gold, i tell ya. i mean, this is actually part of the narrative, Edward comments on it, meyer knows what she wrote.

Ed,maybe is you stopped saying she smells good, you would be better at not thinking about her as food. Mind over matter. Just a thought. Maybe i misjudged his virgin ass. Maybe ed the incel actually fell in love with her. Or at least what he thinks is love since they’ve been dating for like two days (look who’s talking?the girl who reads any sign of affection as a statement of love and then gets disappointed).

“Emmett could never be compared to a gazelle”. That’s sexist steph. Emmett, honey, you are as gracious as you want to be.

Also a big yaaaas on the whole concept of vampire baseball. we needed more of it.

Plot! Plot! Plot! Plot! Plot!

We have encountered plot. Only 320 pages in. three bad vampires came into town.

Story time: when i was in high school, all like 20 of us in out class were really, really into twilight (dudes included). we quoted it all the time but the height of comedy happened when someone brought their friend from another school to out class and someone else was like “you brought a snack” and a meme was born to be quoted endlessly for months. it was actually kinda fun. and probably very annoying for anyone who wasn’t into twilight.

Also, any development? Backstory? Motivations other than for the hell of it for out boi James and his ginger girlfriend? come on, it wouldn’t even be that hard. Also, some foreshadowing? There was like one line before. This is a legitimate criticism. it’s kinda shitty writing and a wasted opportunity.

Edward is being a dick again. I get he’s scared but her dad could die. Or maybe they’ll trun him into a vampire too (charlie/Edward? Think about it). But they all call him out on it which is nice. Bella’s plan isn’t bad, but “let me go charlie” is the straight up coldest thing i have read in a long time. it’s supposed to be, this isn’t criticism, just stating the obvious. But she showed like an inclining of love for her dad who has been nothing but nice all this time. Yeeey, she’s not a robot.

“It was the best idea. Of course it was mine” . Yaas, queen, you’re not that much of a doormat;  take that credit.

i would do something to foreshadow the ballet studio thing in the first half of the book. at least, have Bella or Charlie looking at pictures from her recital, just to intricate it to the plot a bit more.

Ok, now i remember why i was team jasper. He is so effing nice. And he would be awesome for my depression. Neira/Alice/jasper, i ship it.

i’m kinda digging the explanations of how vampires work and the whole venom thing. They are still op af and need to be nerfed, but i wanna be one.

Of course, he used the mom. She’s like the only person bella actually cares about. She falls for it. i would probably fall too, but i’m dumb.

the fact that james hunted Alice is a nice and a very much needed twist. it did catch me of guard. i would be more mad he’s a bad guy monologing, but i can only introduce stones to my own glass houses.

Bella’s now more into the idea of being a vampire than into Edward and i’m living for it. she’s going to use him for his venom and a baby and run off with rosalie.

“and how many times did she fall our of a window?” (yes, that is a Sherlock reference in the year 2018 of our lord. maybe i should do that for my next project. should i wait a few more years?)

her mom is not worried enough, honestly. my mom would be freaking out. but my mom has anxiety issues, so idk… (i couldn’t get her smooth hairless legs, or her blue eyes but i got that gene. thanks, i guess) .

“And i have a couple of girlfriends” now that’s a novel i want to read but i guess i’ll have to write the lesbian twilight myself.

“I want to be superman too”. yeeees, finally, kristen steward in the role of superman casting of the century. you would all watch it and love it, and you know it.

Charlie doesn’t deserve this shit. when will he retire with his husband billy in their cabin where they can fish all day.

“Do you want me to bolt the door so you can massacre the unsuspecting townsfolk?“ Are we sure she hasn’t been a vampire from day one?

Jacob is a sweetie (for now) just putting that out there.

Edward is kinda being unreasonable. being a vampire in your universe isn’t that bad.

Aaaaw, and that’s a wrap.

i actually kinda digged it. it’s nothing special, but i read these last 150 pages in one sitting. my main issues are writing oriented. very little foreshadowing, many filter words and things like that, but i guess if you aren’t that into writing, you might not even notice more of that.

it’s not the death of literature, it’s not the worst love story ever told. it’s just a silly and mostly harmless wish fulfillment novel.

edward can be a controlling and condescending prick but he gets called out on it very often. it’s not like meyer is completely oblivious to what she’s writing. and even tho he’s 100, i guess they are all mostly stuck mentally at the age when they were turned. or at least that’s how it seems to me. bella is kind of a bitch to everyone who’s not a vampire and she’s never called out on it, there’s a glimpse of change in the epilogue, but i don’t think meyer really considered it a character flaw. which is a shame, as it could have made for an interesting character. all the vampires have stories i would rather read about, as i said before, but what can ya do? that’s what’s fanfics are for.

i may write more of cohesive thought on it when it settles in my brain, but first, i need to watch the movie. i have a hypothesis i need to test.

but i don’t regret doing this. it was kinda fun and now i’m no longer ashamed of my twihard phrase. i could have done worse, as far as teen phases go.

Someone should like write a fanfic, but Edward is not a vampire, but a rich guy. And he’s into some hard core spanky business. And they should take all the problematic elements and just crank them up to 11. And add a looot of sex. I bet they could make millions.

Tho, honestly, how can you read twilight and not make bella the kinky dom? you fundamentally misunderstood the story. for shame

[disasterganes]

been thinkin about gender more. & sexuality & all that stuff. just some personal stuff that i want to put out into the world because i hate hiding who i am at this point in my life. 

you know i’m ?? so deeply grateful that pride exists. i’m so deeply grateful that people can share their stories and everyone gets a chance to be heard but also to listen and to consider things that they hadn’t before and -- idk. i just feel like some of the things i’ve been hearing and seeing and reading lately have really helped me come more to terms with who i am ?? first and foremost among them the fact that i’m not the only person still adjusting to labels and discovering themselves at twenty seven is like -- an incredible relief. i already feel so much pressure to hit certain milestones and have such intense fear that’s, yes, part of my anxiety disorder, but also stems from my complicated relationship with myself, my body, my identity. 

i’d never considered, until extremely recently, that the reason i’m so heavily triggered by the idea of having kids or other people having kids is because the heteronormativity terrifies me because i can’t and don’t want to fit into it. to me, personally, it’s this tangible marker of adhering to a lifestyle, a label, a life that i can’t access. i’m disabled, i’m gay (we’ll get to that), i don’t fit into the ideal mold that exemplifies western standards of beauty. i have always been on the outside -- alienated from my race, from friends, from my sexual identity, from the hallmarks of womanhood in a male-dominated society. i never had boyfriends, i never played the part of The Girl, and the recent pressure i’ve been feeling (mostly from family, but also the intense number of friends hitting more “stereotypical” milestones every single month that passes) to move into the next phase of my life -- it really stems from how alienated i have always, always, always felt throughout my life. 

this is N O T to say that ANY OF THIS IS REAL. logically and in my heart, of course queer folks can have families, and of course there’s no such thing as normal, stereotypical, that it’s all societally constructed. bisexuality, pansexuality, sexual fluidity -- all valid! hitting certain milestones is not invalidating of one’s queerness! 

the only person i hold to these archaic, misogynistic, and frankly homophobic standards to is myself. it’s so genuine and so easy to accept and love other people -- but i don’t know myself and i fall back on all the bullshit that i heard in my childhood -- my roman catholic italian family, my catholic school years, the fact that twenty seven years ago conversations like this weren’t happening, at least not in my neck of the woods. i repressed myself, deeply, throughout my whole life. i wasn’t honest and i wasn’t brave and because of that i didn’t open myself up to the idea of having a queer friend group, of those experiences. 

straightness and gayness has defined me my entire life. i didn’t like boys so i fixated on boys that didn’t like me so i wouldn’t be at fault when they ignored me, humiliated me in front of the school, got nasty with me, made fun of me. i picked bullies to give my heart to as a way of distancing myself from the responsibility of owning my complexities and standing up for my truths, since they would reject me anyway. i cried and panicked when i was thirteen and realized that my fantasies included girls. i went through puberty ignoring my body and my heart and played it as safe as possible. 

that is how i live my life: safe. i don’t take risks. i don’t move quickly. i don’t want because wanting means that you open yourself up to others wanting you, and being desired is more terrifying than being rejected. 

when i say i hate myself, it’s not that i hate the choices i make, things about my body or my personality. i hate BEING myself -- it’s like being trapped in a sarcophagus, being in this body and mind with everything that i’ve experienced. it’s confusing and terrifying and exhausting. i hate me, as a creature that lives, because it’s so damn hard to understand what or who i am, ever.

i alienated myself from womanhood because it didn’t fit the ideal that my mother had planned for me. (and she supports me, has never threatened to kick me out, doesn’t hate me, but it doesn’t erase years of my close minded family filling me with ancient catholic rhetoric about acceptable and unacceptable.) i’m terrified that not wanting kids makes me a bad person, but wanting them makes me less than what i am. i told my therapist, once, that i’d be okay being a dad. because that makes more sense to me -- less commitment, fewer expectations. i have been crushed by the expectations of my gender my entire life, and i have always felt like my gender was decided, determined, and owned by everyone else but me. 

and maybe that is why i don’t actually feel like a woman. i don’t feel like a man. i don’t feel in between -- i don’t feel anything. i perform like a woman, but the only time i feel myself inhabiting my gender is when i let myself explore my feelings for other women, even in the locked recesses of my own mind. gender, to me, is not a thing i inhabit -- it’s a thing i show then put away when i’m alone because it doesn’t feel right. i’m not thin, i’m not pretty, i’m not able bodied or sound of mind. and none of that matters, none of that is REAL because it’s all based on what society has said but that’s the thing -- it doesn’t matter if it’s all bullshit, because it’s still affecting me. the toxicity of beauty, of body type, of ableism -- it has completely poisoned my ability to see and know and understand who i am, because for the LIFE of me i can’t dismantle the lens of this goddamn white-centric male-centric hetero-centric cis-centric fucked up society that we live in. it’s necessary work, to say no to these ideals. but i can’t do it for myself no matter how hard i try. 

it’s terrifying, to think it might never happen. that i’ll never know myself. time is so short and moves so fast and even though i’m trying to merely enjoy it -- it’s a constant Thing in the back of my mind. but hearing others’ stories gives me a kind of courage it has taken twenty seven years to cultivate. and it’s not even a lot of courage at that, but it’s a start -- to begin the process of maybe dismantling my gender a little. to get to know myself. to open up. to move past the traumas that i’ve experienced in my quest to not rock the proverbial boat and play at being straight and a Traditional Woman. maybe one day seeing engagement and expecting posts on facebook won’t send me into a panic attack and make me vomit. maybe one day i’ll be happy with who i am, or just happy in general (since i can’t remember what happy feels like to begin with). maybe one day all those things won’t feel like a threat, a reminder of my failure to fit in with a toxic society. but what i’m going to start with is just being -- and any time i feel myself scared of a choice, that’s the choice i’m going to try to make. because playing it safe, so far, has entombed me in a prison of heteronormativity. 

thank god for pride. thank god for real and fictional stories that have created more pathways towards the freedom of expression and self acceptance. maybe, one day, even self love. 

[wings-freedom03]

Everybody wants to rule the world - Seraph of the end (OneShot)

Welcome to your life

The figure of his closest friend running away from him. He felt his blood seep out onto the floor eyes flitting in and over the bodies of his family. They were all so young, the only thought reverberating around his skull like a ball in his ear. But at least one of them was safe. One of them lived blood trickled out of his mouth and his eyes closed a satisfied smile on his face.

There's no turning back

Eyes opened again his body thrashed. No, his mind screamed as she pored blood, her blood into him it went down his throat so quickly, the copper taste made him heave. There was no hope for him, he could feel the change ripple through his bones up through his heart and brain and the irreversible change of species and everything hurt. It hurt so much it made him scream.

Even while we sleep

"No" he screeched there was a child the same age as him there, ready, for him to drink from and he couldn't, the pull in his bones to drop and drink until he tore through this childlike paper and drunk and feel complete. He couldn't only because of his love for his family. A word that brought trepidation and fear now to his fragile heart and it drove the gut-twisting guilt again deeper and deeper. The child smiled and he cried and cried.

We will find you

He felt tired so utterly tired of existing. For waking up to drink and sleep his life a cycle of pain. The Queen of the vampires a girl. 3rd strongest he was told he agreed. He was protected by her so fully so carefully, he was her child. Never a bad word or hateful comment even though he refused to drink the blood of a human because he couldn't. She treated him as though the words he said mattered to her, and he loved her in a strange way. Not like a mother and son but as a protector and protected.

Acting on your best behaviour

The man who killed his family became important to he trained him the artwork of blades and combat, combat that would kill. He was beaten by this poor excuse of a man, for not being aware of how to handle a blade. Or for not understanding how to hold himself properly in combat and he felt it burn along his back when the whip came down again and again. He imagined twisting a knife into him and watching him fade to ash. The idea terrified him he was becoming more like this man.

Turn your back on mother nature

He aged slenderly grew thinner and almost stick-like eyes a cerulean blue, hair the colour of wheat an oddity in Japan, many vampires clambered for his hand to claim a beautiful boy to control. He declined all offers, his nature gave him a false aloofness which he grew to accept as his personality fitting in as a snobby, self-centred boy to please everyone around him.

Everybody wants to rule the world

He found solace in books and reading enjoying the physical feeling of words on a page, to touch leather bound novels brimming with characters and story's filled with colour bursting with colour. Ideas and stories. To smell the scent of old books to drown away a hard day with the latest novel the Queen had picked up. He lost himself and found himself in the novels that helped him imagine.

It's my own design

He joined the fight for the vampires, at the side of the man who killed his family. This man who ran a hand down his face and whispered into his ear trying to manipulate his decisions. Change his mind force his hand. But his hands strayed too far sometimes exploring the place he shouldn't have let be explored, they roamed and he was too afraid to stop them.

It's my own remorse

The battle was all around him raging he didn't move from his spot sitting on a lamp post. Cloak billowing out behind him showing off his lean muscle and body. Eyes roamed his face and body but he ignores it in favour of keeping an eye on the enemy the smell of blood drawing closer.

Help me to decide

He thought as he watched thought of his family of his friend. He was not a creature bound by war but bound by the experience he knew the vampires would win with or without his help. At least until reinforcements arrived but he was so incredibly lonely and he felt alone. There were not human children but it didn't matter he was full. As he watched the vampires rip the humans to shreds.

Help me make the most

The man who killed his family was behind him hand splayed across his back telling him to drink to live a little. His hand moved further down and he moved quickly away before any more harm could come to him he opened a bottle of blood and drank to keep himself awake and moving.

Of freedom and of pleasure

The world spun away into his life with his family were sitting eating together dressed as livestock. Laughing and joking together before it all went horribly wrong and they all died. He remembered the one who hadn't the most beautiful boy the young boy Had ever seen, eyes of forests and hair of late night. God, he thought I miss him.

Nothing ever lasts forever

His dream shattered like a mirror as more humans approached he drew his blade hands gripping tightly to the grip hurting his hands. A man approached the man who killed his family allowed him to fight him and he zoned out fought practised moves running on autopilot.

Everybody wants to rule the world

The human he fought tricked him. He used spells that blew up and kicked him out of autopilot. His body kicked him into overdrive body expecting to be beaten hit with whatever was around. He hurt again. He thought sadly only one person in his family was truly alive as the boy he was now was a shell of the boy he had been.

There's a room where the light won't find you

He held his sword above the human he fought. Poised to strike it through his chest the man was laughing blood blooming from his throat. The irony was not lost on him as he pushed the blade home.

Holding hands while the walls come tumbling down

A call rebounded around the voice was so familiar and he turned so quickly. It hurt stared into the green eyes and dark hair he had once loved and loved still eyes pulled open at the excruciating pain that flowed up him. He felt tears brim and, o this is what dying feels like.

When they do I'll be right behind you

"Yuu," his voice gave, he sounded soft and childish the blade slicing through him as he watched eyes widen and mouth open and close. His hand raised to touch Yuu, to touch his cheek and smile as sweetly as he could as the slow burn appeared, his flimsy body burning away to dust slowly.

So glad we've almost made it

"Mika!" Yuu screamed, mouth falling, eyes widening. The boy he had just stabbed, killed was his family. He watched Mika reach up to a touch his cheek. He smiled so sad eyes closed. Body smoking and ready to turn to ash. But he was still as beautiful to look at as when they were children when they shared sneaky innocent kisses and held hands while eating lunch and poking each other.

So sad they had to fade it

Mika fell eyes rolling back into his head sliding with a wet noise onto the gravel, he was spasming wildly as blood pooled around him. He was going to die the same way as the first time only now he was going to do it with Yuu not leaving. Hand clasped in his own crying widely.  Yuu leaned down connecting their lips, one pair bloody the other trembling.

Everybody wants to rule the world

I love you, Mika. I love you Yuu.

Everybody wants to rule the world

The son of a queen burdened with a crown of thorns. Given beauty to use however he wanted. Manipulated by a murderer and forced to live like a servant. In love with a child of the gods. This boy sits low on golden throne arms bound and thrown at his mother's feet to beg and live on what she gives a golden crown heavy on his head as he lies upon her feet.

The Prince of Vampires. The Pauper of man.

Everybody wants to rule the world

A/N: This is a character study I guess with a little bit of gayness thrown in. I focused this on Mika cause I wanted a character who we (people who watch the anime. Idk what's in the manga.) Know little about. I also had this weird image of Mika sitting with his head on Krul's lap with a crown on his head so that's where the final image came from. Also, pervy Ferid is a given at this point, he's quite odd in the anime so I made him slightly pervier also I may have made Mika a lot more negative and think a lot less about Yuu because I'm lazy and this was long already.

Started: 30th May 2018 1:34 am Finished: 30th May 2018 3:25 am Un-beta Song used: Everybody wants to rule the world cover by Lorde

[thelionthemousethefoote]

Sexuality

Of the three subjects; sexuality, romanticism, and gender, this is the only one that I have a label that I am the most comfortable with.

Over the last few years, sex has progressively become a more prominent part in my life. That is to be expected, for I am a teenager after all, but because of that, the world has pressured me to be put into a box. Straight, or not straight. For nearly all of my life, I had assumed I was straight, because of hetronomity. But things change when the spotlight is on you. I soon realized that I didn't really care for sex the same way that my peers did. I would only think of sex in a scientific manner, while nearly everyone around me thought of it as some attainable dream, or something that they could want in the future (or they had already done). Which lead to some friends asking me some uncomfortable questions about sex, but that's for another story. Over the years I found out that I was not in fact straight, but something else.

I remember this one time, I was talking with my friend, and kids were brought up. A common fact about me is that I cannot stand young children, so of course all my friends try to pick my brain on why, and will make up scenarios to try to get some insight. So, my friend asked me that if I did like kids, would I ever have any. I responded by saying that if I ever did that I would definitely adopt. My friend asked me why, and I said that I could never see myself copulating with another person, it just isn’t something that I could ever want for myself. They then said that I was wrong for thinking that, because I was too young, and that things will change, and that everyone wants sex at some point in their life. I wasn’t in the mood to argue, so I just went back to my work. Their response left me feeling disappointed, distant, off, like I was wrong for not being the same as my friend, but I tried to ignore it. This was the first time that anyone blatantly denied my sexuality, and in turn me. My friend denied that asexuals existed. They denied that I could be an asexual. I am asexual.

At the time I didn’t know that asexuals were a thing, I simply thought that I was weird. I wouldn't even first hear the word until 9 or 10 months ago. Surprisingly enough the person that brought the word to my attention was my mom. I personally don’t like being open with my mom, she is the person that I am the most closed off to in my family. She just tends to not get what I try to tell her, and just can be insensitive when I do try to explain things to her. My mom is probably the most clueless person that I know when it comes to LGBTQ+ related topics. Ok, maybe that is a bit of an exaggeration, but nearly everything that she knows about the LGBTQ+ community my brother and I taught her, and for the most part she still doesn’t get it. So having her introduce me to a word that is a part of me is an odd thing. In the last post I talked about the first time that I had tried to come out. I mentioned that it was “the wrong person”, this person was my mom (I will still dedicate an entire post to this experience, but it is sort of important to this story). Since then, my mom has tried to “prove my gayness” because of my failed coming out. I guess this example was her trying to do just that, but instead of “gayness” it was more “LGBTQ+ness”. One day she just stopped me while I was on my way upstairs, and just said “(insert name here) are you asexual?” I respond with “What does that mean?” “You don’t want sex*.” “Yes.” then I proceeded up the stairs.

When I said yes, it was more of me just trying to get to bed, because it was late. Turns out that I had trouble sleeping that night, so instead, I looked up the definition of ace (ace is short for asexual), and found these definitions - Adj. Without sexual feelings or associations. Noun. A person who has no sexual feelings or desires. After reading the definitions, I had two immediate thoughts. The first was that this was a very bland answer, and that I needed to learn more, and the other was that it “felt right”. Something just fit reading “asexual” and reading it thinking about it for myself. You know how sometimes you just feel like something is true, and it just sits well with you? Well that’s what happened. Because the literal dictionary definition was so cut and dry, as with everything else in life, I needed more information, and proceeded to the rest of the internet.

When I searched the internet, I found that there is some debate over whether asexuals are part of the LGBTQ+ community or not**, but more importantly, I learned a lot about the ace community. There was a lot to take in. I was discovering a new culture. I had new terminology to process, new slang to use, and of course new labels to fall under. Asexuality, like many things this day and age, is a spectrum. I found out that sexuality stretches from zedsexual (having “normal” sexual attraction; the opposite of asexual) to asexual (no sexual attraction), and that everyone falls somewhere in between. Then on top of that there are people who were sex repulsed, and then there are some asexuals who had sex. I instantly felt like I was drowning in too much information too quickly. I persisted, and I kept learning more about asexuality, and overtime, I understood it more and more. I decided that I didn’t need to choose a label that is super in depth and (to someone who knows the label) describes everything about me, but instead I could just stick with asexual. But, I also decided that I would need to define what that means for me (and right now, whoever is reading this).

So what does this mean for me? I will rarely have sex, if ever. The only reason why I would, is if a partner wanted to, but I have a feeling that I would not really enjoy it. I am fine with lots of other intimate interactions though. I can still be a normal partner. I am fine with with some things that other aces wouldn’t do, and possibly consider sexual like cuddling, kissing, hugging, hand holding (you’d be surprised what some people would consider sexual), and more “normal couple things”, I just don’t really want sex. My sexuality will probably have some implications on my life that others might see as drawbacks. One thing that my brother and I always joke about is how we are going to be the end of our bloodline. My brother is not planning on having kids, and I am asexual. Some people might think that this is horrible because we will have no one to carry on our legacy, but I just don’t really care. The only one who would be upset in my family would be my parents. My mom is always pointing out things that she would love to do with her grandkids someday, and I just laugh uncomfortably. But that all aside, what about my (possible) future partner? Well, being ace could really complicate my dating life, because nearly everyone actually wants to have sex. This would make dating harder because I would need to find someone who is fine with that. So, unless I could find an asexual partner that I am happy with, my partner and I would need to set up some rules. Because I would not be a supplier of sex, I would be fine with my partner hooking up with people from time to time, as long as it is just sex and nothing more. There is obviously more than it than that, but look, I’m just trying to give you an overview right now, we don’t need to go into detail.

The one thing that has really surprised me from my experience learning about asexuality, is that I had almost no representation. I kid you not, the first and only time I have ever seen a character on television (or any other major media for that matter) who is asexual has been on the TV show BoJack Horseman (minor spoiler up ahead). The character Todd Chavez, who, in my opinion, one the best characters, is ace. His experiences in the show were something that I could relate to. The show is able to cover some difficult topics really well, and I think that it did amazingly with this. I highly recommend the show to anyone who has not watched it, although, quick disclaimer, it is not suitable for all ages, because it has some (non graphic) sex scenes, strong language, and depressing humor. I was a little disappointed that the only representation that I have found is in a show that is kind of inappropriate and is a Netflix exclusive. One thing that I think that media really needs to do is have a wider, ACCURATE representation of more identities. If it weren't for my mom, then BoJack Horseman would have been the first time that I would have learned about asexuality. I’m not complaining, because it’s a great show, but it would have been nice to learn about it sooner, and lately, my only other source of  representation is YouTube. The thing is YouTube has absolutely everything, so it’s no surprise that this is where I can find some relatable content. My one problem is that ace YouTubers are few and far between, and the place where I learned the most about asexuality wasn’t even from a YouTuber who is ace (the YouTuber is Ash Hardell, the channel covers just about everything LGBTQ+ related, and Ash has done so much for the ace community that I just had to mention them)!

Even with so little representation, we aces do exist, and although our community is somewhat small, it is there. Being able to find out that more people like me do exist is really nice. It truly is refreshing to know that you aren't just some strange creature for not feeling a need to partake in something that is such a normal part of life for the majority of life. Sex is such a core part of human life, no scratch that, most life, that not ever having the same drive can make someone feel a bit alone. Especially when some people deny your existence, or exclude you from communities. I am glad that I have found that there are more people like me, and thanks to those others, I can confidently call myself ace.

Signed,

The Foote

*This is a quite the oversimplification of what asexual means.

**I wrote a paragraph which I was originally going to put in, but it seemed out of place, and I already write too much as it is, so I will /hopefully/ post that snippet some time between this and the next post.

[weaselle]

omg white western dudes scientists been idiots for so long about so much stuff - “how do platypus reproduce, by birth or egg?” native people who live with the creature: “they lay eggs” western science: It sure is a mystery, how can we find out? native people: “it’s eggs. They lay eggs. My grandfather says they taste like shit” western science: “guess we’ll never know! early american colonists: “hey these natives have all these interesting stories” native people: “yeah, so my people used to hunt these creatures *draws a mammoth” they were super big and covered in hair. My great grandfather killed the last one we ever saw. western science: “wow, somebody must have shown these impressionable primitives a picture of an elephant.” western science: “we’ve been observing these chimpanzees very closely for more than 300 hours and never seen any gay behavior, gayness isn’t natural.” lady they barely let do any science because she’s a lady: “what’s this category ‘Male Bonding’ with all these tally marks by it?” western science, dismissively: “oh that? That’s just a bunch of times male chimps fondled each others penises and practiced courtship behaviors together and totally not gay stuff like that” (by the way, gorilla lesbian sex was recently documented in the wild - amazing what can be observed when you’re willing to admit it might exist)

Researchers have used Easter Island Moai replicas to show how they might have been “walked” to where they are displayed.

VIDEO

[whoknewzeus]

I want to try to properly label out w/o it being the obvious like what ship this belongs to and yeah. I want people to know what type of story this comes out to be before people click on it. Do read the notes at the beginning and end of my story, thank you! Rating: M (Mature) Tags: 

Smut

Porn With Plot

because I'm the type of person that likes that type of shit

I also needed some smut in my life of this ship

love bug

somewhat related to the supernatural/myths?

i guess

Idk how to tag properly without everything being a joke

or some sort of chat

Romance

Alternate Universe

Kyungsoo is a scientist

Chanyeol is part of the security

I'll tag more probably

honestly

I read a Sterek fic about a love bug and wanted to do my own version of one Warnings: Honestly, it’s just smut that needs to be looked out for. I don’t want anyone too young (hence the rating) to read it and be tainted by the amount of gayness I put into it. Summary: Ever got bitten by the love bug? Or stung, for that matter? Because scientist Kyungsoo, generally studying on mythical creatures and all that jazz, did.No. Love bug isn't something fake. It's real as the stinger that went into Kyungsoo's neck.Now, he can't hide the feelings for a certain security guard in his department. Oh, what to do? Preview: “Hold down the manticore, Byun,” Kyungsoo instructed his peer as he looked through the two-way glass, studying through the lens of his thick-framed glasses the features of the black furred creature with wings flapping about and scorpion tail lashing at the containment team. The fairly large creature proven to be more fearsome than the legend purposed. Kyungsoo brought his raspy voice to the microphone, “No hurting the manticore, either. We haven’t even extracted the poison from its tail. If you’re wondering what Kyungsoo was doing, then he would gladly explain the circumstances of his position. You think the mythical creatures and spirits were things from children’s fairytale books or old folklore? No. Very wrong. Just. No. There were things out there that existed in reality like the fish in the ocean or the birds in the sky. Only… there were also things that breathed fire, things that sang hypnotic songs that lured innocent people into shallow waters, things that turn you into stone with its piercing glare, and even things that came at the bottom of a rainbow. Ridiculous. Unheard of! Logically impossible to exist! But it existed… Kyungsoo was a scientist that studied these creatures as carefully as he could while trying to keep his testing procedures as humane as possible. The world needed to be prepared for every creature out there without heavily relying on the old tales to help understand how these very creatures functioned. A set documentary on these cryptids would be essential to the government and even the public.

[gaiatheorist]

“Morality.”

“Should children as young as 5 be taught about sexual practices between consenting adults?” No, obviously, children are not adults, and have a disturbing habit of copying things they’ve heard or observed. I’m more concerned about A+E attendances to have foreign bodies removed than I am about children ‘learning’ to be anything other than heterosexual, though. 

We’ve been here before, with Section 28 prohibiting the ‘promotion’ of homosexuality in schools. Imposed morality, ‘this’ is the right way to be, and nothing else exists. From 1988 to 2000, the only ‘acceptable’ family structure was a Mummy and a Daddy who loved each other very much, and sometimes had a special cuddle. In bed. With the lights off. Bonus points if the Mummy and the Daddy were married. To each other. Anything else was a ‘pretended’ family structure. Apart from the “It’s OK to say no.” booklets in primary school, I don’t remember any ‘sex and relationships’ education at all, the booklets came too late for me, and loaded on the guilt that someone had been doing things they shouldn’t have, and I hadn’t said no. Everything else was biology, insert-tab-A-into-slot-B, to quote the Manic Street Preachers “My idea of where life comes from, a childhood glimpse of pornography.” it really was the age of finding a ‘mucky book’ under a hedge back then. (Or a video tape with no label, and the tabs popped out, before satellite TV.) 

As much as some of our Mums and Dads fucked us up, so did our schooling. The government’s decision that heterosexuality was the norm, and anything else deviant left some of us with ‘nowhere to go’, burying feelings, ostracised by the bullying of the ‘normal’ kids. Homosexuality isn’t illegal, discrimination technically is, and this ‘morality’ debate is a constructed nonsense that will impede the acceptance that love is love, in its many and varied forms. (Sticking with the ‘love’ angle, rather than the ‘sex’ one, the primary school lessons wouldn’t touch on the many ways to couple-or-multiple.) It’s tired but true, that children are malleable and accepting before they are exposed to prejudice. “Why does uncle Bob go everywhere with uncle Jim?” “They’re in love, like Mummy and Daddy.” “Oh, can I have a biscuit?” It really is that simple.

It doesn’t really matter which ‘moral majority’  has the pitchforks out, where there is a majority, there will be a minority, and that imbalance leads to oppression. Letting the kids know, at 5, that there isn’t only ‘one way’ will reduce some of the homophobic bullying at 7, some of the confusion at 13, and some of the self-loathing and suicide at 15. Some of it, not all, because the children don’t only exist in their classrooms and playgrounds. The refusal to acknowledge the ‘other’ choices is a backward step, and it will lead to harm, when some of those children realise that they are ‘other’, deviant, abnormal. 

As much as we’re seeing some celebrities and ‘influencers’ openly-out, not only as homosexual, but a plethora of things we don’t even have tick-boxes for yet, we’ve also seen a return to death-by-stoning in Brunei. Good old family values, there, it applies to adultery as well as homosexual activity. “Oh, but that’s ‘The Muslims’ doing Sharia law, that’s not us!” Death by stoning. Lapidation is a word I never thought I’d need to learn in 2019, Pearl-clutching Christians take note, isn’t the one about not-killing quite near the top of the list of commandments? (I can’t even wrap my head around the ‘observed by’ angle to it, inflicting trauma on a whole group of people, as a means of keeping them in line. It’s barbaric, which is, I suppose, me making a moral judgement.) 

My ‘morality’ is of the ‘harm none’ flavour, my sexual orientation is fluid. That’s not as difficult to reconcile as it might appear, because I don’t wish harm against the Sultan of Brunei, or the parents protesting in Birmingham. I pity them. I think they’re wrong, but still I pity them. By choosing to live by religion-imposed rules, they narrow their world-view, by imposing those views on others, they isolate and ostracise themselves. In the current fragile-fractured society in the UK, it wouldn’t take much for the UKIP contingent to correlate the Sharia stance in Brunei with ‘all Muslims’, if only it didn’t run the risk of them ‘catching gayness’. 

‘Exposed to’ was one of the phrases used. I’m not infectious. My son is ‘pansexual’, whatever that is because he just IS, he had a hetero-normative upbringing, one ‘Mummy’ and one ‘Daddy’ with a marriage certificate signed and sealed long before he was conceived. (He called us ‘Mum’ and ‘My Mum’ for ages, amusing, but it didn’t stop him observing his Dad’s ‘Wahey, look at the tits on that!’ mentality, or his Granddad’s insistence that women were weak-and-feeble little things, that needed to be looked after. Hardly surprising that he never had a girlfriend at school, we must have seemed confusing creatures to him.) His Dad, for all his faults, wasn’t maliciously homophobic, he did have some gay and lesbian acquaintances, but he also engaged in the derogatory banter that’s ‘expected’ in the circles he moved in. Porn-lesbians were titillating, real-lesbians less-so for him, he had defended his gay friends growing up, but still used ‘bummer’ and such as insults. 

Children do need to be ‘exposed to’ the undisputed fact that not all relationships are heterosexual, and that needs to happen when they’re still at the “Oh, right, can I have a biscuit?” stage. To say otherwise is immoral, because it allows the discrimination and hostility to creep into the lives of those children, with nothing to counter it. It is absolutely fine, and fair for people to have an opinion on homosexuality, bisexuality, fixed-or-fluid gender, what is not fine or fair is for them to impose their opinion on others as a fact. Again, homosexuality is not a criminal offence in the UK, or a mental disorder, some people find it a distasteful notion, and therefore deem it ‘wrong.’ If it’s being practiced consensually, between adults, and ‘not frightening the horses’, it can’t really be ‘right’ or ‘wrong’, it just is. ‘Moralising’ sexual preference (unless it’s for children or animals, or any other non-consensual practice, I’m not going to look them up, my search history is dubious enough as it is.) is harmful. There are gay Christians, lesbian Muslims, asexual people of ‘all faiths and none’, and myriad combinations of everything else. To refuse to acknowledge that is at best ignorant, and at worst incredibly damaging.

I don’t like baked beans. Some people do, some people are indifferent. I’ll eat them if I have to, but I’d prefer not to. What I won’t do is insist that other people don’t eat baked beans, because I think they’re ‘wrong’. (I actually think they’re goblin-shit, disgusting orange lumpy things, with a terrible habit of sticking to the back of the fork, and ending up in the washing-up bowl, but that’s just me.) Whether I eat baked beans or not doesn’t impact on anyone else. Neither does whatever I get up to in the privacy of my own bedroom. I’m not going to go about the place defacing baked beans cans in the supermarket, or hurling abuse at people I see eating baked beans. I’m not going to go to anyone’s house, and dump their beans-on-toast in the bin, I just don’t like beans. I’ve outed myself as bean-ist, bean-ophobic. I could claim that I have a ‘moral objection’ to baked beans, and start a campaign to ban them. How ridiculous would that be?

Nobody taught me to dislike baked beans, in the same way as nobody taught me to have something of an ambiguous attraction to males and females. I’m ‘greedy’, because I can find either/or equally appealing. Or neither, depending on circumstances. I’m not stealing your beans, or forcing you to eat beans, my sexual identity has absolutely no impact on anyone but the person I’m with. I’m no more a ‘predatory lesbian’ than I am a ‘cougar’, chasing down anything with a pulse in order to satiate my ‘dubious’ desires. (Anyone pearl-clutching about the fact that I worked in a school, and might have ‘exposed’ myself to children, it only ever came up once in 14 years. “Miss, I think I might be bi, what are you?” “I’m not really anything, apart from ‘me’, and that’s all you have to be.” ever so slightly duplicitous, but I didn’t want the girl to think it was compulsory to ‘pick a side’ at the age of 13.) 

There will be children in those classrooms in Birmingham, and across the UK who will end up being not-heterosexual. There will be children with two ‘mums’ or two ‘dads’, invisible-erased under the ‘moral’ proclamation of ‘normality’. Yes, it is the majority-norm, but it isn’t the only option, and insisting that it should-be, citing ‘morality’ is regressive, and harmful. It could, potentially, be the start of a slippery slope, if it’s ‘morally justified’ not to even mention homosexuality, what next? Whose morals carry the greater weight, and how should they be imposed on others? 

As others have pointed out, there would be outcry if it was another-other that had been cited as a moral objection. It is illegal to discriminate on grounds of religion, or ethnicity, or gender, disability OR sexual orientation. That a proportion of the population find homosexual practices distasteful does not mean that they are ‘immoral’, any more than a mixed-race marriage, or a couple where one partner was raised Jewish, and the other Catholic. The ‘question’ shouldn’t have needed to be asked. It isn’t a ‘question’ in any sense other than the rhetorical, no amount of hiding behind religious dogma framed as morality makes it a valid question. I respect the rights of others to have views that differ from mine, but the perceived victory of this ‘moral’ argument makes me uneasy. If a parent-protest about homosexuality can cause a school to (temporarily) cease part of the curriculum, what’s next? ‘History is written by the victors’ comes to mind, how many backward-steps before the whole SRE curriculum is deemed immoral, what with some groups objecting to sex before marriage, why should children be ‘taught’ about reproduction, healthy relationships, and bodily autonomy? They’ll find out when they’re married.           

[faulknerwisden-blog]

Love in Idleness

Spheres spun around again pooling smoke against his boots, Boots licked by virtual glitter and bound by phantom roots, Roots to be had by those behind, silhouettes beckoned through white, White carved by vibrant ribbons, drawn together by neon light, Legs frozen, heart beat faster, at the eve of furore and fright, Pulsed quickened with muffled pop, pulsed to edges of the site. Your soul mate is out there so go out there and fight! He dived into the spheres and was spat out into the fray, Into the thriving mass of euphoria, drawn together in the doom. Blinding lights, blaring sounds, senses spun into disarray, A wetting of carnal appetite, feasting on forbidden fruit: malum. Bot materialised from the nether, appeared as shrewd and knavish sprite, Pixels shimmering- no form to tether, to grant user into light. After confirming that his avatar was in sync with his reality, (“Re-adjusted jaw and cheekbones, shrunk user back to actual height.”) It demanded he choose a colour, so that it could designate sexuality: Violet, Yellow, White To reveal to the unknown? Chance detection in real world? Whorled back to me- Humphrey Stripped, exposed and known My identity I must own Humphrey, or Human free? Three interpretations of me Violet, Yellow, White Which one was more right? “Violet” “Highlight all from my city, and hide all under three star rating, Show both male and female- but with sexuality gating.” Sprite vanished undesired users, granted a colour to all remaining, No Viola, no golden ladies nor silver men in sight. Violet, Yellow, White Smoke whispered down the walls, Carved up from every angle, By brilliant laser beams, As vibrant as they were bright, Reflected off a disco ball, That from the apex dangled, Stimulating ceaseless dreams, Under numbing neon lights. Violet, Yellow, White, Purple light enticed golden gaze, Plastered with covetous glaze, Penetrating through musty haze, Prize lying at the bottom. Phantom fingers peeled off his clothes, Stripped, exposed, known, To emaciated boy he loathed. Exotic fish eyed the horny hosts, Haunting behind ribbons of murky blue Apparition as gilled ghosts, Shiny eyes locked on ostentatious view, Held despite their drifting, Dragged by phantom snare, Parallel to the crowd ever shifting, Dancing too hard to care, Chasing the rhythm of constant beats. Rinse and repeat. Violet, Yellow, and White From gold he turned in flight. Turned instead to hunting white. Safest users in the site. Discernments were curious, From gloomy blacks so luxurious, Brought out by chubby cheeks, Stretching a smile sweet and meek. A more simple attraction, Beating heart stalled his action, Could not risk rejection. Then he spotted her blooming blush, Swooned as his blood rushed, She was attracted to him! He made his way towards her, Mustered all the courage he could brandish But she disappeared with a- poof! She was gone. She’d simply vanished. For all purples she must have banished, She dared not chance a violet light, Did not believed his light was right. Violet, Yellow, White Instead he found solace in purple lady, Found splendour in eyes shady,

Smooth dusky skin, Snared him close within, Gilded cage of raven hair, Lips as close as dared. “Do not despair my auburn prince, Squeeze out the red and let it rinse, For a glittering swords descends, Six pieces apart it will rend, But with you the chaos ends, The pink prism where rainbow breaks!” He tried to continue his prancing, But he was too limp, too placid, Could not commit to romancing, For his company needed enhancing, With bucket loads of acid. At the end of every track, foam poured from the unseen ceiling, Until everyone was soaked, glistening, and gleaming, Merged as a singular shambolic form, one in movement and feeling, Feelings vanishing with frantic gyrating, kicking and screaming, Finding contentment in unison, only ecstasy- no healing. Chocking on smoke and foam, Relentlessly shifting through the night, Bound in ceaseless roam. Violet, yellow, white Found a fossil trolling the gloom, Carved by cracks and wrinkles, Yet behind grey eyes life still twinkled, Silently salivating for malum. Oh woe to the man once so pretty, Haunting dusky corners of cyber city, Never graced by cupids arrow, His splendour nourished by the shallow, Until grey hairs were sprouted, Until pot bellow was outed Until heart was shrivelled and narrow, Wilting away on route to tomb Snubbed by new wave of plumes Scratches on bedposts the only, Haunting reminder of his bloom. Would Humphrey become like him? If he did not find love soon, Desperete to consume, Forever trolling the dark? A single commanding roar, To DJ hovering in cage above, But the crowd she ignored, Only her machine held her love. Pop powered by her hands, Morphed into nauseating beats, Oblivious to her crowds demands, Only Madonna, Mercury, and Michaels, Music nauseatingly sweet, Nostalgia destined for infinite repeat, With numbing neon lights, Violet, yellow, white He found a man amongst a crowd of nothing,

Of Cyan eyes, fair tressed hair, White arms, muscled coiled and bare, Could never imagine a man to be so fair, All gilded under golden sheen, The alchemist’s dream. Too much of a man to be a queen, A man of such superior genes, Tall, firm, athletic, lean, Not camp, no glittered gleam, Not a pansy, not like me. His existence too convenient, A salvation too lenient, Not deserving for this deviant. Why was he so desperate to venture here? A circle prowled by forgotten queers? Risk damnation from celestial ire, For a fleeting quenching of lewd desires, Desire doomed to be never sated, Until evolved into brute once hated. Take it like a man, Don’t feast on the foil, Dine on the present spoils How can the rejected, Become the rejecter? Steal away with the achievable, Delightful viridians were permissible, Damp lips shouldn’t be omissible, Diseased with all transmissible, Dealt by the dames of Sodom. Instead turned to face more mean, Saw himself in eyes of green, Honest in his golden sheen, Prophesied self- criticism. Gold, and camp and promiscuous, Preferred Purple and ambiguous, Should not handle the mannerisms, Would not defend from antagonisms, Could not merge into mechanisms. It was simple, there was no love to give. Then firm hand was against behind, Tried to relish the attention, Tried to meet them in the eye… I can’t chase the constant beats. I can’t be a puppet of scrumptious meat. I cannot be. Bugger he was of more deserving, sulking in absence. Faggot of twisted limbs, sprouting shoulders of slight cover. Bent around a sunken chest, below a wriggling mask of maggots. Queer hunger seeping from black sockets of the soul he would rent. Poof of smoke he, and all his hopes of affection would disappear. Here stands the enemy of God, Amidst a bloody war against Nature, How did such a sallow emaciated creature, Dine amongst carnal malefactors, Indulging in voluptuous quenching on malum? Scavenger spotted carrion husk, Splotchy skin smeared with floral musk, Sweltering breathes wheezing from lunges, Slick tattered lips split between tusks, Sweet nose on scratchy stump, Sweet cheeks on scaly rump, Sweet eyes into sunken hollows, Take it like a man! Slinking uncoiling of forked tongue, Salvia dribbling onto uncharted lips, Slipping into unplumbed jaw, Stealing its pound of flesh, Slime tickling teeth, mouth probed by the tip, Slithering down the throat to the soul, Where meat and emotion mesh, Down, Down, Down, Down, Lips twisted to frown, Felt soul unravelling, Tongue continued travelling, Black bristles grazing crown, Tongue he tried to sheath, But it was wedged behind his teeth! Eyes rolled in sunken sockets, As appendage jammed in docket, Made a bid for liberty, Jaw was numb and jittery, Down, Down, Down, Down, Damsel frozen in silent scream, Haunted by this virtual dream, Tangled in this twisted mesh, Fingers tearing into his flesh, Until finally free from heat… …Ahhhhh…. Liberty was sweet! Never tasted air so fresh, Down, Down, Down, Down, Sweet nose off scratching stump, Sweet cheeks off scaly rump, Sweet eyes away from sunken heart. And Humphrey was alone again. No feeling, not a fraction. No soul he held attraction. Would not entertain golden gaze. For a mere fleeting phase. Merely dawdling in queer haze. Eyes tempted back to guilty pleasure, To more than carnal leisure, To perfect fusion of Darwin’s and Manhattan, To beauty. What would the prince want with the shrew? Why settle for one with such weak genes as you? Instead Humphrey danced until bruised, Would not be slurped and used, Let skin be frayed and bleeding, Rather than a body he was needing, Let his limbs be ground to stubs, Until he was nothing. For Despite all the fascination, There was not a smile to be seen, No existence of adoration, Driving glittered sheen, Driving furious gyrating, Driving desperate mating, In vain attempt of escaping, Judgement befit for a queen. He could not stand for this dystopia, He would put an end to this myopia, He thrived with furious dancing, In the hive of gyrating rears, He needed no romancing, To drive away his fears. The time has ended for Darwin’s prince, My fellow users I must convince, To hail their rightful Queen! Whose rule will revolutionise the mean, Meaning I’ll restore what gayness means! “My friends, this is a joyous time! Violet, Yellow, White In anonymity we unite, In reality we are synonymous! In this void we can be anonymous! In Idleness we have liberty! In Idleness we have equality!” With spirits high, with shyness controlled, Through strobing lights he took a stroll, He ventured back to his pretty doom, Apple of his eye- golden malum. Sent a message, just a “hi”, Spontaneity reinforced with an alibi, Just in case caught flirting with a guy, No- not flirting, no love for lewd pleasures, Added a winking smiley for good measure, Too impulsive! Rushed in too soon! He blushed profusely- what a buffoon! But the golden man held out a hand, He held the hand as long as he could stand, He winked again, this time for real, His grasp was firm and warm to feel, Hazel into cyan, violet shining with gold, Humphrey’s heart was pumping icy cold, Yet he held his posture firm and bold, With a ping, his inbox updated, Held his breath, prepared for the “no.” Instead the man sent him a “hello.” Man pulled the boy in nice and near, Hushed and giddy against strong and clear, Firm hand on the back, other on the rear, The trance bent and broken by the rush of fear. But he just couldn’t do it. Not here, Even in a void away for the judgement of a queer, Had to be certain, had to be real, Humphrey V. Hugo’s heart had to feel

[amateurethnomusicology-blog]

Inventive, brazen and unapologetic, Icelandic singer Bjork turns a teardrop into a thunderstorm and a smile into a beam. Her albums “Debut,” “Vespertine” and “Vulnicura” challenge listeners to see the world from an emotional point of view. As pivotal examples of Bjork’s most gripping work, each album is emotionally reflective on the roles Bjork has impressively juggled over the years as a mother, lover and acclaimed international musician.

“Debut,” with its driving rhythms and powerful lyrics, introduced the world to the energetic, 28-year-old mother. “Vespertine” breached the Outkast-Destiny’s Child-’NSync-laden charts with its electronic and avant-garde use of household sounds and Inuit choruses. 14 years later on “Vulnicura,” Bjork mourns over her divorce with Matthew Barney in a devastatingly beautiful narration of their disintegrated relationship.

Bjork was raised in a broken family. Her parents divorced in 1966, only a year after her birth. She lived with her mother, Hildur Hauksdóttir, a homeopathic doctor and martial arts teacher. Conscious of her daughter’s creative gift, Hildur enrolled Bjork in music school at the age of five.

Bjork released her first EP of children’s music at age 11, gaining her popular recognition in Iceland. She caught the punk rock and new wave bugs in her teenage years, forming groups Exodus, Tappi Tikarrass and KUKL.

In 1986, KUKL evolved into The Sugarcubes, a full-blown psychedelic rock band featuring Bjork on vocals, her then-husband Thor Eldon on guitar and Bragi Olafsson on bass. The Sugarcubes signed with Elektra Records (The Doors, The Stooges) in the U.S. and with One Little Indian Records (Asgeir, Olga Bell) in the U.K.

The Sugarcubes’ debut “Life’s Too Good” (Elektra, 1988) stormed the U.S. and the U.K., pleasing both college radio audiences and white-collar critics. The single “Birthday,” an eclectic David Byrne meets Liz Phair track, became a crossover radio hit, exposing conventional audiences to Bjork’s distinctive vocal styling.

The Sugarcubes put Iceland on the music map. Suddenly, the media became attentive to the island country way before the Kardashians vacationed there.

“Debut” was released in July 1993. A blend of jazz, house and trip-hop “Debut” jangles with contemporary rhythms. Although many of the tracks were pre-written by the teenage Bjork, “Debut” is a mature dance album sophisticated enough to spin in a city club, yet unassuming enough to play at a neighborhood block party. A showcase for her creative technical abilities, allmusic.com describes “Debut” as an album of “emotional pop songs.” Perhaps Bjork’s most diversely themed albums, “Debut” spans a range of subjects.

The opening track of “Debut,” “Human Behavior,” is one of Bjork’s greatest earworms. With its up-tempo groove, sporadic strings, and commentary on humanity, “Human Behavior” is reminiscent of The Talking Heads’ “Road to Nowhere” (“Little Creatures” 1985). In “Human Behavior” Bjork expresses her discomfort with humans from an animal’s perspective. In a Q&A with The Guardian, Bjork revealed that “Human Behavior” was inspired by her childhood, when she felt more comfortable being in nature alone than in the company of other humans. An insight into Bjork’s alternative perspective on the world, “Human Behavior” is a rousing statement of nonconformity.

In her lyrics “If you ever get close to a human and human behavior/Be ready, be ready to get confused and be in my head after/There’s definitely, definitely, definitely no logic to human behavior” Bjork uses anaphoric techniques to reiterate her frustration with the irrationality of human behavior. Whether intentionally or unconsciously utilized, this technique causes the animal protagonist appears to have a stutter, further conveying her uneasiness surrounding human behavior.

On “There’s More to Life Than This,” Bjork channels her teenage restlessness into an angsty disco call to find more meaning in life. She sings, “Come on girl/Let’s sneak out of this party/It’s getting boring/There’s more to life than this.” An allusion to a theme on her album “Vespertine,” “There’s More to Life Than This” is consistent with her desire to break the status quo, and is an indication into Bjork’s dissatisfaction with everyday life. The production on this track is exciting; the clamor of voices sustained in the background are reminiscent of Marvin Gaye’s “What’s Going On” and a background hook similar to Michael Jackson’s “Wanna Be Startin’ Somethin’” makes one feel like they are in a room full of action. The lyrics and production contribute to the song’s overall anticipatory and anxious feel, adding to the lively spirit of “Debut.”

Furthermore, a boy who saw everything from a naturalistic point of view inspired “Venus As a Boy.” Bjork describes the boy’s point of view as a "beauty point of view, and not superficial beauty but the beauty of brushing your teeth and the beauty of waking up in the morning in the right beat and the beauty of having a conversation with a person." A sweet song, innocent in arrangement but perverse in lyrics, describes the boy’s desire: “He’s exploring/The taste of her/Arousal/So accurate/He sets off/The beauty in her/He’s Venus as a boy.” The song plays with perspective, mythology and gender in a fascinating approach to uninhibited sexuality, a subject Bjork has never been shy about. For 1993, “Venus As a Boy” was ahead of its time in terms of women expressing their sexuality. Tactfully executed, the song makes a brilliant public statement about being comfortable with one’s sexuality.

The sexual tones in Bjork’s music continue on “Vespertine,” the experimental album of an already-established experimental artist. The album sounds like a cyborg Bjork typing on a laptop while suspended in space. Musically, “Vespertine” has fewer climaxes and declines than “Debut,” creating a melancholy mood throughout the album. Intentionally monochromatic, the album’s working title was “Domestika,” as Bjork originally wanted to celebrate the triteness of everyday life through what she referred to as “domestic” moods and noises translated into melodies and beats. Lyrically, the album delves into sex and love, and “Vulnicura” meaning “relating to, occurring, or active in the evening” replaced “Domestika.”  

“Cocoon,” the album’s second track, describes making love though explicit and metaphorical sensations. Bjork fluctuates between metaphors like, “Who would have known that a boy like him/Would have entered me lightly restoring my bliss” and direct lines such as “He slides inside/Half awake half asleep/We faint back into sleephood/When I wake up the second time in his arms/Gorgeousness, he’s still inside me!” This kind of honest and erotic vulnerability is empowering to women because it rejects the sexual double standard in which men are encouraged to express their sexuality and women are told to repress it. Female interpretations on sex, though few, are hardly celebrated in the art world.

Bjork continues to address intimacy in “Hidden Place.” In an interview with CDNow.com, she explained the song: “'Hidden Place' is sort of about how two people can create a paradise just by uniting. You've got an emotional location that's mutual. And it's unbreakable. And obviously it's make-believe. So, you could argue that it doesn't exist because it's invisible, but of course it does.” Poetic verses such as, “He’s the beautifullest, fragilest, still strong/Dark and divine/And the littleness of his movements/Hides himself/He invents a charm that makes him invisible/Hides in the hair/Can I hide there too? /Hide in the hair of him/See solace/Sanctuary” magnify the extraordinary bliss of being close to someone. Though a relatable human experience, Bjork’s abstract interpretation further elucidates the extent at which one can feel affectionate, shedding light on what it is that can make a relationship so special.

The album’s mood brews In “Pagan Poetry,” a sorrowful lament about unrequited love. Bjork utterly exposes herself at the four-minute mark when the swirling ambient tones drop, leaving Bjork singing, “I love him, I love him/I love him, I love him/I love him, I love him.” Though she repeats this over and over, her inflection makes the phrase sound almost like a question, as if she is unsure of this statement and is trying to find some sort of meaning in it. In contrast to her warmth in “Cocoon” and “Hidden Place,” “Pagan Poetry” is full of tension as Bjork wrestles with entrapment of idealization.

“Vulnicura,” Bjork’s most recent album, is an intense fifty-nine minutes of Bjork’s feelings before and after her breakup with Matthew Barney. Listeners have heard Bjork be vulnerable before, but on “Vulnicura” she bares her soul, grieving over the loss of her relationship. It is important to note that the majority of Bjork’s work is told from an omniscient point of view. On “Vulnicura,” Bjork speaks from the first person, a telltale sign that she wants to connect with people and that she trusts them with her most personal feelings.

What sets “Vulnicura” apart from other breakup albums is Bjork’s ability to make even her most personal experiences speak to the whole world. Bjork’s work over the past thirty years, often viewed by the mainstream as complex and inaccessible, did not always achieve worldwide relatability and affirmation. However, “Vulnicura” is a straightforward deliverance of heartbreak without much room for interpretation as the facts surrounding the relationship are contained in the album’s lyrics. In her handwritten note announcing the album’s release, Bjork wrote, “Hopefully these songs could be a help, a crutch to others and prove how biological this process is: the wound and the healing of the wound, it has a stubborn clock attached to it."

The album’s concise lyrics and accompanying string arrangements create an invisible connection that wraps listeners up. There is something so relatable about the simplicity of music and lyrics, and all one has to do is close his or her eyes and let the music carry him or her on a journey. With seven out of nine songs on the album being over six minutes long, the strings serve as necessary storyline cues, introducing moments and characters and guiding the storyline. They weave in and out with Bjork’s libretto-style singing, and there are times when Bjork pauses and allows the strings to respond, carrying the story on their own. With her string arrangements brought to front with her vocals, the strings become Bjork’s comfort in her despair and a listener’s safety net on his or her journey.

Thematically, the first three songs on “Vulnicura,” “Stonemilker,” “Lionsong” and “History of Touches” are about Bjork’s pre-heartbreak. In “Stonemilker,” Bjork sings, “Show me emotional respect/And I have emotional needs/I want to synchronize our feelings.” Addressing Barney, Bjork asks for him to cooperate with her to save their relationship. She wants to try, and she blames their disconnect on timing, singing “A juxtaposition in fate/Find our mutual coordinates.” Interestingly, she also states, “Moments of clarity are so rare/I better document this.” In the line, “I better document this,” she sums up the goal all of her work, to preserve emotional experiences.

Similar to “Vespertine’s” “Pagan Poetry,” “Lionsong” is a song about rejected love: “Maybe he will come out of this loving me/Maybe he won’t,” Bjork sings, acknowledging that the relationship may be beyond repair. “Lionsong,” listeners hear Bjork admit for the first time that she doesn’t know what to do with her feelings: “These abstract, complex feelings/I just don’t know how to handle them/Should I throw oil on one of his moods? But which one?”

“History of Touches” once again establishes Bjork’s emphatic reverence for intimacy. The song, long past eroticism and nestled deep in former unity, is foreboding, signaling that everything is about to change. Bjork sings, “I wake you up/In the night feeling/This is our last time together.” The suspension held throughout this song is almost too painful for the heart to bear, as final moments with significant others can be some of the saddest memories.

The next three songs, “Black Lake,” “Family” and “Notget” tackle Bjork’s heartbreak after the breakup. “Black Lake” is Bjork’s diss track at Barney, in which she releases her fury about being scorned at, and about her newly severed family. She sings, “Family was our sacred mutual mission/Which you abandoned.” In her fury, she also describes her wound as a big hole in her chest, as depicted on “Vulnicura’s” cover. She sings, “I am one wound/My pulsating body/Suffering being/My heart is an enormous lake/Black with potion/I am blind/Drowning in this ocean/My soul is torn apart/My spirit is broken/Into the fabric of all/He is woven.”

“Family” one of the album’s darkest songs, is Bjork’s elegy to her separated family. Written six months after her breakup, Bjork mourns, “Is there a place/Where I can pay respects/For the death of my family/Show some respect/Between the three of us/There is the mother and the child/Then there is the father and the child/But no man and a woman/No triangle of love.” Full of disappointment and misery, “Family” reveals more to listeners about Bjork’s expectations for herself as a mother and for Barney as a father. Because she grew up in a detached household, Bjork desired a stable home and family for her and Barney’s daughter. This is another one of Bjork’s pleas to Barney to respect her and their family by participating in the family they created together.

In “Notget,” written 11 months after the breakup, listeners hear a very uneasy Bjork try to make peace with her pain through the declaration that the split has changed her forever but she has to move on and grow from her despair. She sings, “If I regret us/I’m denying my soul to grow/Don’t remove my pain/It is my chance to heal.”

The three final songs, “Atom Dance,” “Mouth Mantra” and “Quicksand” are attempts at situational acceptance. The album concludes on Bjork’s somewhat positive belief that life must go on.

What’s magnificent about Bjork is her supernal ability to translate human emotion into colossal and sophisticated works of art. Even more than acknowledging feelings, Bjork pushes human sensations past the realm of reality, redefining them by her own mythological terms. Listening to Bjork requires one to analyze his or her experiences through conceptual questions like: What is the capacity of a feeling? How can abstraction affect the magnitude of an emotion? In which format will the intensity of an emotion be most accurately conveyed? How can I fulfill this emotion?

If listeners are up for the challenge, they will find comfort in this process. As shown in the line, “I better document this” from “Vulnicura,” even the most agonizing situations can make for meaningful material. As Bjork’s work proves, expression is a lifelong introspective process that serves as therapy not only for oneself, but for others as well.