#(altars pages take me so long bc i have to clean up all of this scribbling LOL)

[undefeatablesin]

Pls enjoy this fun sketchathon of my good hunter Ruza 👏🖤

[goddessdoeswitchery]

Pillars of Hellenic Polytheism: Technically, the pillars were never actually a “thing”. Unlike then 10 commandments, the pillars were never taught as a set of rules that everyone knew by the name “Pillars of Hellenic Polytheism”, or any variation thereof. What modern day practitioners of Hellenic Polytheism call “The Pillars” were essentially religious and cultural practices that were taught by family and friends via every day practices. The pillars were an essential part of the culture of Ancient Greece, taught to them the same way customs like tipping, saying “bless you” at sneezing, and the now-common practice of wearing a mask everywhere are taught to us today. In recreating Hellenic Polytheism for the modern age, the Pillars grew out of a need for a set of guidelines to help us recreate a very old religion.

First up, Xenia. Xenia means “Guest Friendship” and is a set of rules for when a guest comes calling on your home. This set of rules applies to both the host and guest. It is one of the most sacred rules in Hellenic Polytheism, and features heavily in several myths, as well as the Illiad and the Odyssey. Often times, the myths show what happens when someone fails to follow the rules, and it is never a good thing. Zeus himself, under one of his epithets Zeus Xenios, is the embodiment of the religious obligation of being hospitable as both host and guest. In general, the host was meant to be hospitable. This included providing the guests with food, drink, gifts, protection, and even safe travel to their next destination. The guests were required to not be a burden or a threat, provide news and tales of where they had been, and to reciprocate if the host ever showed up their place. In the Illiad, violation of Xenia led to the Trojan war when Paris, the guest, kidnapped his host’s, Menelaus, daughter. The Achaens were required to avenge this insult, because violating Xenia was a massive insult to Zeus and his authority as Zeus Xenios. In the Odyssey, when the suitors of Penelope begin to eat her out of house and home, they violated Xenia by being a burden to her. They also violate Xenia by being rude their host and the other guests in the home.

But how does someone practice this in the modern world where travel is almost always safe and news is delivered to our home not by bards and guests but by social media and the internet?

Xenia should be a belief that guides us everyday, because everyday we play host or guest in our community. When a friend needs help moving, when a neighbor has lost their animal, when we visit a friend or relative, when we run into an old acquaintance at the store, when we see someone in need, when we run into strangers on the street; anytime you interact with another person, when you visit someone, when you stay at a hotel or AirBNB, even at the voting booth, anytime you deal with someone or have an influence on your community, you have a chance to practice Xenia. Xenia goes beyond the simple rules of guest and host and informs how we interact with everyone everyday, because it is tied to our community, especially with philanthropy.

Let’s break this down bit by bit so you can see good examples of how exactly Xenia can inform each of these interactions. Some of these examples will be simply examples, and some of them will be reflective of real life situations I or others have faced in the last few months.

A few years back, the home I shared with my mom, my sister, and my children caught fire. We were left with very few personal items, and no place to live. My uncle, who lived several hundred miles away, practiced Xenia by offering to pay for the deposit and move in fees for an apartment complex. The community we lived in practiced good Xenia by donating items we badly needed, such as beds, clothing, toys for the kids, and much needed housewares like microwaves, pots and pans, and silverware. Several members of the community organized a drive to help us replace many of the items we lost and guided us to food banks that helped us with electricity deposits and the first few months’ worth of bills. Every person we interacted with practiced Xenia, even if they had no idea that they were doing so at the time.

About 2 years ago, we found a small dog in front of our local grocery store. There was no collar, no chip, and the poor thing was half-starved and filthy. We took it home, cleaned it, cared for it, and then took actions to return the puppy to her rightful owner. We put up signs, made posts on Facebook, called every animal shelter in 80 miles, and searched lost and found pages, groups, and posts on every social media site we could think of. 3 days later, we found the owners, a newlywed couple who had come home to find the front door of their home open and the puppy they had gotten 2 weeks ago gone. When we took care of the animal and made every effort to find her owner, we put into practice the basic principles of Xenia by playing good hosts to the animal in our care. Xenia does not just inform our actions for people, but is also informs how we should treat every living thing.

Now for an example that includes both good and bad xenia, in it’s purest form of being a guest and a host. Say you are visiting family out of town, and you bring a bottle of wine. The wine is a good gift on your part as a guest, and is an example of good xenia. You don’t overstay your welcome, you go home early because you know your hosts have an early morning the next day, you take care to not cause any mess, and you use your manners flawlessly. Then, 2 weeks later, your host pays a visit to you. They bring their spouse and kids along. They fail to bring any gift, allow their kids to eat all the snacks in your cupboard, drink all of your soda that was supposed to last all week, overstay their welcome by sticking around for dinner even when it is obvious that you didn’t plan on having an extra 5 people over for dinner, don’t clean up after their kids or even watch them, and don’t leave until after 10 pm even though you mention time and again that you have to leave at 6 tomorrow morning for an early start to work. Outside of paying a return visit to you, your guests have been a perfect example of how to violate the rules of Xenia at every turn. And we all have one of those friends or family. The ones who never can take a hint and eventually wind up being unwelcome at your house, or any other simply because they’ve violated the rules of Xenia so often.

When we run into strangers or acquaintances, we can practice good Xenia by simply inquiring after them, if they have the time. Simply saying “Hey, how’s it going?” or “How are you?” can go a long way in being an extension of Xenia outside the home. My job has made Xenia a rule of thumb without knowing even know it, by insisting that we Stand, Smile, and Greet every customer, move around the counter to sit with them at a table when taking an application, and take the time to get to know them. We offer small snacks and candies, bottle of water alongside soda and coffee, and as a result, we practice good xenia as a whole throughout the company.

Xenia also intersects with philanthropy when we see someone in need. Donating to food banks, charities that enforce the rules of xenia like homeless shelters, and even engaging in personal donations to those in need are all good way to practice Xenia on a regular basis and literally put your money where your mouth is as a practitioner of Hellenic Polytheism. Even at the voting booth, we can practice Xenia by ensuring that those we vote for uphold those values by supporting immigrants, providing for the homeless, feeding the hungry, caring for the sick, and assisting those who need it. By ensuring that we vote for those who practice Xenia every day and put it into policy, we can support our community.

Last, but definitely not least, Xenia guides our relationship with our own gods. The gods give to us every day, and we can reciprocate in kind. We can let our altars serve as their home, ensuring it is clean and kept in good repair. We can make sure we have appropriate offerings (this can even include something as simple as clean water, bread, incense smoke, or a dash of olive oil). We can welcome them to our home with prayers and praises. We can remember that when they come to our altars, they are guests in our home and we must, above all, treat them as such.

In short, Xenia is a practice, a Pillar that informs our every day life. Some extensions of Xenia are called “good manners”, some of them are called “being a good neighbor”, and some are called “being a good citizen”. We all have practiced and expected Xenia as a part of our lives at some point or another. As I mentioned in the beginning of this podcast, Xenia, as a part of the pillars, is not a simple commandment. It is a way of life, expected of us at every turn. It is a pillar, not just of Hellenic Polytheism, but of our lives.

For references, I relied heavily on the Illiad and the Odyssey, both of which I own. I also pulled from Wikipedia, the Xenia comic by Greek Myth Comix, Hellenic Polytheism by Chris Aldridge, Hellenic Polytheism: Household Worship, and Mythology of the Greeks: Legends Anterior to and Contemporary with the Trojan War to 1183 BC to the First Olympiad, 776 BC by George Grote.

Thanks for listening to this episode of “Hellenic Polytheism 101”, a short lecture on Xenia as a Pillar of Hellenic Polytheism. For a transcript of this podcast, you can visit goddesssdoeswitchery.tumblr.com, and look for the tag “Hellenic Polytheism 101 transcripts”. There you will find a link to the references, including an amazon link to the books I referenced, outside of the one by George Grote, as it is 164 years old. You can also ask me any questions there. Don’t forget to tune in for the next episode, coming August 23rd, about Kharis.

[fmdtaeyongarchive]

January 1, 2018: Soundcloud user kwonsongs uploaded a new audio: “New Year’s Day (cover)”

date: december 30, 2017

word count: 1,889 without lyrics

summary: really just me making up for never doing the cover festival para on ash combined with your run of the mill “new year, new me” para. it’s not super important character development but i wanted to establish kinda where he is as the year starts and he’s being emo again and this really might make more sense if i posted the other self-para with stuff that happens before this self-para but that would be too logical, right?

notes:  i really wrote a self-para with taylor swift lyrics in it. f/anfi/ction.net is shaking. anyway this takes the place of that one para i wrote in october as my least favorite piece of writing even though it took a month and a half to write. just me.... constantly outdoing myself for the worse.

“Hold on to the memories; they will hold on to you.”

The night is darkest just before the dawn was a cliche Ash had repeated to himself (and had sung to him in slightly different words by Florence + the Machine through his headphones) numerous times in the past few years . He clung to the times it’d been proven right, but he’d seen how once the dawn had passed into the joyful brightness of mid-day, it could only go back downhill from there. He wanted to hope 2018 would be the dawn followed by a long summer day after the darkness of the past two years, but hope was hard to come by these days.

Time to sit down and record covers was rare lately, too. Two had been uploaded in December before his album dropped, but they’d been recorded in the two months before. Usually he’d play keyboard to accompany himself after picking the song and working out the legal licenses, but he just couldn’t do this one without a piano, so he’d gotten special permission to use one of the BC vocal lesson rooms to sit down at a real piano in a room with good acoustics. His hands ghosted over the black and white keys and he smiled to himself at the all too familiar press of his fingers on each one.

This was his home, more so than a music show stage or even a dance practice room. He’d never felt more comfortable than behind a piano. He’d been playing piano for longer than his memory went back. After eighteen years, it was the most natural thing for his body to do, more than breathing itself. There’d been a time he’d thought his destiny laid with the instrument in front of him. Becoming a world famous pianist wasn’t the most practical dream in this day and age, but when he was only a kid, it was what he’d wanted and he’d been too optimistic to doubt himself.

He couldn’t see that little kid in himself anymore.

Ash sat down at the bench and played the song’s first few notes to make sure the instrument was tuned. Recording his covers could often be an emotional ordeal sinc he rarely wasted his time with songs he couldn’t connect to. His soundcoud account was the closest thing to a diary he had other than his own songwriting notebooks. Millions of people could listen to them, but would they ever know who his love songs and songs of heartbreak went out to? Hansol. Daeun. Yoonah. His feelings for all three of them over the past two years had been documented on the public platform, but he’d never even told them they were about them, much like he didn’t tell them about most of the original songs he’d composed with them in mind. Music, whether it be written by others or written by himself, spoke volumes more than plain words ever could. It was more intimate and vulnerable than a simple exchange of words. Something so real was bound to frighten even the bravest of hearts, something Ash had never claimed to have.

Ash’s love of Taylor Swift songs had become so well-known that it was nearly a joke now, but he’d connected with the song he was going to play from the first time he’d heard it. For all of the dramatic and unrealistic notions he had of romance, the simple idea of an enduring love was one that appealed him to most now after so much self-inflicted heartbreak. On a deeper level than romance, he wanted to be a good person to everyone he loved in any sense. Not just his boyfriend, but also his friends and his parents. His nature had long led him to run from conflict, but he never wanted to be the type of person who hurt others because of his selfishness ever again.

It was a vast improbability that his wish would come to fruition. Ash had never wanted to hurt others, but he still did, so why should he think he could change? It was a flaw in the code of his nature that he was still struggling desperately to accept, but he didn’t have to accept it today. He just had to open up for the sake of music.

The song was easy to play, which was a godsend since he still felt weak from the night before. Life went on and this would help him, he hoped. Music was therapy when the universe didn’t allow him time for the real kind. But he could only rely on a substitute for so long before it ruined him.

The expensive audio recording set up had already been arranged, so he let a few moments of silence linger in the air after hitting record before he deftly began the one bar intro.

“There's glitter on the floor after the party. Girls carrying their shoes down in the lobby. Candle wax and Polaroids on the hardwood floor. You and me from the night before but...”

The words flowed from his diaphragm as naturally as a nursery rhyme. The beginning was easy to get through, a visualization of the words taking over his mind. He hadn’t been to many parties, at least not the kinds of ragers at fraternities people his age were supposed to be going to. He’d been to plenty of stuffy industry events where there was no glitter and no Polaroids, only fake smiles and the bright flash of press cameras. Recently, he’d also been to plenty of clubs, with their strobe lights and deafening bass, but that was a hollow substitute. Parties with real laughter and a large group of close friends genuinely enjoying being in each other’s company were a distant dream to him. If he could stop pushing people away, would that help him live the idealistic image of his early twenties or was that another sacrifice he’d laid at the altar of BC Entertainment almost nine years ago with no hope of ever experiencing?

“Don’t read the last page. But I stay when you're lost and I'm scared and you’re turning away.”

The song began to hit home much earlier than he would have liked. How tempting it would be to be able to know how everything ended in advance. At the end of his life, would he be happy? Would he finally know what happiness was? Would he grow old with someone who could somehow love him despite his never-ending failures or would he continue to disappoint everyone? Would he still be remembered as nothing more than the list of labels that his scandals had branded him with? Attention-seeker. Womanizer. Playboy. Cradle robber. An embarrassment.

Would he continue to sabotage the relationships that meant the most to him? Would his friends admit they only kept him around because they had pitied him and finally leave him for good?

Would he end up truly as alone as he already felt on his worst nights, an isolated man with nothing to keep him going?

His fingers tensed as he played, but he continued, his eyes falling closed as he bit the inside of his bottom lip to center himself. He couldn’t let his thoughts go there. Not now. He needed to get this cover out.

“I want your midnights, But I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day.”

Ash’s New Year’s Eve would be spent on a broadcast, but the idea of a trashed room wasn’t unfamiliar to him. After the adrenaline of brushing lips with someone who tasted as much of wine as he did when the clock hit twelve passed, so came the hangover. Hangovers were a normal side effect of life for Ash by now. During his album promotions, he’d pushed through a pounding head and dry throat to do an early show recording a few times. It wasn’t professional and it wasn’t pleasant, but he was beginning to feel he didn’t owe BC the former and the latter was a feeling too uncommon in his line of work to start with.

“You squeeze my hand three times in the back of the taxi. I can tell that it's going to be a long road. I'll be there if you're the toast of the town babe. Or if you strike out and you're crawling home.”

The lyrics hadn’t affected him so much when he was practicing, but now it felt like his chest was shaking from the weight of the words he was singing. Ash wished he wasn’t recording so that he could let himself cry, to obstruct the words before they left his lips, but he’d been crying too much lately that he didn’t know he had it in him anymore.

Being loved had always been Ash’s source of validation. He wasn’t unaware of that fact. He didn’t know where it came from; it wasn’t as if he’d been left wanting for love and affection in his childhood, and yet he so badly needed people to care about him. But when they did, he told himself they’d see the light sooner or later. Every time, he hoped it would happen before he could ruin it like he always did. In the moment he had love, it was nice, but it was a vicious cycle and the true satisfaction that he yearned for it never came.

Naked sincerity rang in his words still. He lived for love when there was so little else to live for, and he sang the verse with every last atom of his being meaning the words he recited, but his mind never let his heart be at peace. He didn’t deserve to sing those words. He’d abandoned so many people at different times, in different ways.

And he’d been abandoned in turn back when his scandal had broken. Friends and acquaintances had stopped contacting him because he was a star plummeting to the ground from a spot in the sky that had been so delicate to begin with. People he’d thought liked him for him revealed they were fair-weather friends only interested in his status as a member of BC’s current hot boy group. That’s all he was to many. All he’d ever be. To the public, status as a living, breathing human was the only thing with which being in Knight hadn’t gifted him. “Three strikes, you’re out turned into “one strike, you’re unforgivable”.

“Hold on to the memories, they will hold on to you. Hold on to the memories, they will hold on to you. Hold on to the memories, they will hold on to you. And I will hold on to you.”

Blocking out everything he was feeling so that he could get through the song wasn’t going to happen. Sometimes Ash felt incomparably numb and sometimes he experienced so many emotions it felt like he’d burst, but those were the only two options lately and he had no control over when each decided to show up. He should be appreciating all of the gifts life had given him—a loving family, friends who cared about him (for now), a healthy body, a job that offered him a salary most twenty-two year olds and most idols alike could only dream of making, but none of that was ever enough for him to feel genuinely happy. He tried, he did, but his mind always dragged him back down and disappointment at his own ungratefulness only made it worse.

“Please don't ever become a stranger whose laugh I could recognize anywhere. Please don't ever become a stranger whose laugh I could recognize anywhere.”

As Ash played the final notes of the song, he thought about how being able to look back on the next year with fondness when he was old and graying was the most he could ever ask for. It would be another year under BC, another year doing music with Knight he rarely enjoyed performing, and another year of being too busy to spend enough time with anyone other than his manager, but if he put it out into the world that he wanted this year to be better (that he wanted himself to get better), there was the slightest chance the stars would hear his cry for help. He’d tried everything else in vain, so what harm was there in letting the exhaustion of trying finally take over him and letting the universe do the trying instead?