#All the Good Things Have to Die

[earath-sa]

ALL THE THINGS HAVE TO DIE

Es el título de el primer álbum que publiqué. Hace referencia a ésta idea de que incluso las cosas buenas tienen un final y que esto no significa que los finales sean malos o trágicos. Al igual que Vituperum, es un álbum conceptual. Habla sobre un señor de edad avanzada llamado David, el cuál tiene problemas del corazón y recientemente enviudó.

1.- Always Traveling: La canción aborda la situación en la que se encuentra toda la gente en éste caos rutinario, en el cual, desde que despertamos tenemos la necesidad de transportarnos y de ir a otros lugares fuera de casa, para consultas médicas, de compras, al trabajo, escuela, etc. Aquí David, un anciano un tanto deprimido por la reciente muerte de su esposa tiene que viajar en autobús a casa de algunos familiares, pues estos planean celebrar su cumpleaños (21 de septiembre).

2.- Futile Snob: La canción representa todas aquellas charlas ajenas que solemos escuchar en autobuses, en las cuales mucha gente se jacta de ser culta y siempre estar presumiendo. Aquí David se siente agobiado al escuchar las platicas de jóvenes que se creen sabelo-todo, provocando que el mismo recuerde su juventud, cuando era igual de inocente e ignorante.

3.- Autumn Child: David nació el mismo día que inicia el otoño, al menos en la zona en la que se encuentra México. El considera haber empezado su vida a la par del otoño, el cree que su vida comenzó mientras la vida de muchas de las hojas de los árboles se marchitaba. Entre tantas pláticas que sacaban de quicio a David en el autobús y los recuerdos de su juventud, el suele recordar cierta parte de su infancia, cuando era inocente y amaba explorar el bosque intentando explorar y responder sus primeras dudas propias. En esa misma etapa de su vida, conocería a una chica, la cual se interesaba de igual manera en cuestiones tan interesantes de la vida, cuestiones que solo una mente inocente como la de un niño puede concebir.

4.- Poem Pt.1 (The Air Wants To Get Back): La chica que solía compartir horas con David jugando y resolviendo sus dudas sobre cuestiones cotidianas era una amante de la lectura y de la escritura, aunque un poco amateur, pero con una pasión inmensa. La chica, llamada Lucía, tenía serios problemas para expresar sus sentimientos y pensamientos al hablar, por lo que, la escritura de poemas y narraciones, para ella eran más que un simple pasatiempo. Cuando se enojaba, en vez de externar su rabia con golpes o con gritos, lo hacía escribiendo, cuando se sentía triste y curiosa también. Aunque también tenía un problema con ello. Ella tenía la costumbre de escribir sus sentimientos apoyada cerca de su ventana, por lo que en temporadas como otoño, en las que hay vientos fuertes, solía tener dificultades para escribir, pues el viento que entraba por su ventana a veces hacia que salieran volando las hojas en las que ya había escrito o incluso maltrataba el papel y eso le gustaba a ella, porque así, aúnque tuviera sus sentimientos escritos en papel, podía saber que no quedaron plasmados del todo, pues algo se lo impedía. Un día, su familia decide cambiar de estado, se mudan muy lejos de la vida de David, haciendo que Lucía pierda a una de las amistades más sinceras que pudo haber tenido. Por meses ella lloraba, por lo que se ponía a escribir poemas sobre lo sola y encerrada que se sentía en un lugar, que aunque estuviera lleno de lujos, no le bastaba, pues no le era suficiente, ella necesitaba a alguien como David para crecer y sentirse apoyada. Ella estaba completamente destrozada, no existía día en el que no rompiera en llanto por perder la vida tan emocionante que ya había establecido. Así que decidió escribir de nuevo para deshacerse de esos sentimientos que la carcomian. Aunque seguía faltando algo, ella ya no tenía al viento que le impidiera escribir. Así que ésta vez tenía que expresar de lleno lo que sentía. La letra de la canción es un fragmento de uno de sus poemas.

5.- Migraine ene'l Braine: Es una forma pseudo intelectual de escribir “dolor de cabeza”. En realidad el término no existe, ni coloquialmente, pero es una muestra del estereotipo de cómo debe sonar un idioma extranjero, aunque en realidad este no exista. Aquí David sufre un dolor de cabeza indescriptible por recordar a esa amiga de la infancia y de cómo le afectó a los dos su partida, provocándole una migraña.

6.- Poem Pt.2 (The Life Is Not A Game): Lucía regresa por un rato vacacional a su estado natal, por lo que puede volver a David, ellos hablan sobre lo que se han perdido de la vida del otro. Pero como solo son vacaciones, Lucía tiene que volver a alejarse. Provocándo que ella entre en depresión, sin siquiera tener ánimos para escribir en papel el cómo se siente. Ella pierde el apetito por la comida, pierde ganas por continuar con la rutina de su vida en casa de sus padres.

7.- Les Légumes: El título se traduce como “Los vegetales”. En esta canción David es distraído de recordar una de las peores noticias que tuvo en su juventud gracias a un joven que le dice a David “Por favor anciano, muevase, quiero bajar, usted aún no es vegetal, no se comporte como uno”. David enfurece por el insulto y actúa de la única forma que puede, estorbandole con su bastón al joven en el momento en el que baja, haciendo que este tropiece.

8.- Aspirina: Los recuerdos le estaban provocando dolores de cabeza a David, era demasiado para él recordar tantas cosas. Por lo que saca de su bolsa del pantalón una Aspirina, pero esto le termina por traer uno de los recuerdos más dolorosos que tiene: Lucía ya sin ganas de continuar con su vida cotidiana, decide quitarse la vida cortándose las venas, consiguiendo Aspirinas como anticoagulante. En el momento antes de terminar con su vida, siente un fuerte cambio de temperatura, una corriente de aire demasiado fuerte, dándose cuenta de que necesitaba escribir el cómo se sentía para poder decírselo a la gente en la que confiaba, así que optó por olvidar la idea del suicidio y prefirió hacer un diario en el que escribió el cómo se sentía. Cuando David recordó que ella estuvo una vez tan cerca de la muerte, pudo darse cuenta de que Lucía en realidad era su esposa, la cual acababa de morir, el había olvidado que alguna vez su esposa llegó a sentirse tan decaída, pues cuando ellos comenzaron su vida juntos, intentaron no pasar ni un día sin disfrutarlo. David se dió cuenta de que junto a él, siempre tuvo a una persona que no volvió a sentirse tan mal y que incluso murió sabiendo que era felíz.

9.- Autumn Falls: David muere en el autobús de forma repentina, pero sin ser una muerte trágica, si no una muy tranquila. David muere el mismo día de su cumpleaños.

La historia está súper resumida y aún así se sienten muchísimos huecos. Todo eso trataré de extenderlo en un PDF que llevo meses escribiendo. Pero sentí la necesidad de dar una explicación resumida canción por canción para que así, se pueda disfrutar cada una con el contexto que tengo yo de cada pista.

Aquí el enlace:

[furiosophie]

it's something sinister to love without regard for dear tomorrow

[halorvic]

[starry-bi-sky]

Stuck in the middle of a forest made of

Flesh and bones and they're all scared of

A lost little boy who has lost his heart

Fear's not enough, they have to

Tear him apart —-------

There are two things Daniel Fenton knows that his family knows as well: 

He’s adopted.

He can’t remember anything else before that.  

‘Adoption’ is a loose term, implying that they went through the official legal processes and troubles of adopting a child into their home willingly, and with the full intention of doing so going into it. That is not what happened. What happened is that Jasmine Fenton found a half-dead child, in strange clothing, in the middle of the woods at her Aunt Alicia’s cabin, and then she went and got her parents. 

What happened is that a twelve year old Danny woke up in the same cabin, wearing clothes much too big on him that didn’t belong to him, and with very little memory of before that moment. He wakes up like a spring being set loose, sitting up so fast he scares the daylights out of Jasmine Fenton sitting next to him. He wakes up, reaching for his sleeve for something that isn’t there, and when it isn’t his mind stutters, like he’s tripped at the top of a steep hill. 

When they ask him for his name, he tells them, clearing muddled thoughts from his mind; Danny. He’s twelve.

(He thinks that’s his name, at least. It sounds right; it feels right. If he thinks really hard about it, he thinks he can remember someone calling him that, utter adoration in their voice. So it must be his name.) 

The Jasmine girl convinces her parents to take him home with them, and they give him the spare guest room upstairs. He has nothing to fill it with.

It’s… a strange experience, to go to a ‘new’ home when he doesn’t even remember his old one. 

The official adoption process… happens. He can’t say it’s easy, or difficult. He’s oblivious for the most of it, Jasmine intends on helping him settle in and Danny can’t say he enjoys the smothering. He learns that he is stubbornly self-independent, that’s one new thing he knows about himself. 

His adoption papers say ‘Daniel J. Fenton’. Danny remembers staring at the name ‘Daniel’ for a long, long moment, something curdling sour in his sternum. His name is Danny, that he knows. But it’s not Daniel. But he doesn’t know any other way of saying it, so he keeps his complaints to himself.

(Jack Fenton boisterously claps his hand on Danny’s shoulder and jerks him around, grinning wide as he welcomes him into the Fenton Family. Danny’s mind blanches at the touch on his shoulder, an instinct snapping like the maw of a snake, telling him to cut off the man’s fingers for daring to touch him.) 

(He keeps the thought to himself, tension rising up his shoulders the longer Jack Fenton’s heavy hand stays on him.) 

They found Danny in the summer. It’s a perfect coincidence, Maddie Fenton says before she goes back into her lab with Jack Fenton. She says it’s enough time to allow Danny to adjust; that they’ll enroll him into the school year in the fall. Then she stuffs a canister of ectoplasm onto the top shelf, and disappears like the ghosts she studies back down the stairs.  

(There’s something eerily familiar about the ectoplasm sitting in the fridge, something unsettlingly so. Danny knows what that stuff is, but he doesn’t know where. When the house is empty, he takes a can from the fridge and inspects it.)

Jazz wants him to leave the house. Danny doesn’t want to step foot outside of the FentonWorks building until he has something that quells the feeling of vulnerability he gets whenever he does. He tried to once, and he felt exposed. Unsafe. 

He turned back around and went inside.

—-------

Where do we go

When the river's running slow

Where do we run

When the cats kill one by one

—------

One day, when the house is empty — or, as empty as it can be; the Fenton parents down in the lab, and jazz out with friends. Danny is making a sandwich, and he caves into the urge to flip the knife in his hands between his fingers. A childish impulse, but one he falls for nonetheless. It comes to him easily, like second nature, in fact. The slip of the blade between his fingers is seamless, flowing with an ease like water running down the wall.  

He’s almost startled by it; his body holds memories that his mind does not. Muscles that know which way to move and twist, limbs that know how to hold and how to throw. He continues twirling it, fascinated, as if he were a scientist discovering a new species of animal. 

It’s not for a handful of minutes when a new thought hits him; an impulsive thought that pops in the back of his mind like a firecracker; Danny moves without thinking. 

He turns, and throws the knife. The pull of his shoulder, the flick of his elbow, is familiar like a hug. He knows when to let go, and the blade flies through the air in impressive speed, embedding itself into the wall with a hearty, loud thunk. Sinking into the drywall like butter. 

Danny stares at it in shock, he feels relieved — about what? — before he feels the guilt. He scrambles across the kitchen to pull it out, heart racing in his chest at being caught, and prays no one notices the hole it left behind. 

(He runs up the stairs before anyone can find him, food forgotten, and hides the knife beneath his mattress like a guilty murder weapon.)

After that, he leaves the house more. It’s more out of fear of being caught than the desire to leave. But Danny is quickly learning that among all things, he is someone who was dangerous, before he lost his memory. Even with his mind in fractures, he is still dangerous. 

He’s not sure how to feel about that — he thinks he should be scared. He feels a little proud, instead.

—------

Hazel beneath our claws

While we wait for cerulean to cry

Unsettled ticks run through time

Enough for the hunt to go awry

—-----

There’s another thing he learns about himself. That he knows about since he woke up. He knows that he left someone behind. He doesn’t know who, but he knows they must have been close; he’s always looking down and finding himself surprised when the only shadow he sees is his own. 

He thinks that he must have sung to them a lot; he finds himself humming familiar melodies when he’s lost in thought. Lullabies lingering at the tip of his tongue, an instinct to turn and sing them to someone beside him. He can’t remember the lyrics, but his mouth does, it tries to get him to say them when he’s not thinking. He can’t. 

Danny’s found himself humming under his breath more times than he can count, trying to recall whatever it is his mind is trying to claw forward. 

(“That’s a pretty song, Danny.” Jazz tells him at breakfast one day, Danny screws his mouth shut. He hadn’t realized he was humming. “What is it?”) 

(Something mean and possessive rears its head on instinct, uncoiling like a snake from its ball. His shoulders hunch defensively, he bites his cheek to prevent himself from baring his teeth. He doesn’t know what song it is, but it’s not for her. “I don’t know.”)  

He misses his person. Dearly. He knows, the longer he is without them, that they must have been close. Otherwise, he wouldn’t feel like he’s missing a chunk from himself. He wouldn’t be turning to someone who's not there; reaching for a hand that’s missing, birdsong on his tongue, a story to tell. 

A dream haunts him one night. Warm and familiar, he’s holding onto someone smaller than him, they’re tucked into his side like a puzzle piece. He’s humming one of his songs that is always playing in the back of his mind, an unfinished tale of a harpy and a hare. Danny can’t remember their face, not all of it. He remembers green eyes, hair dark like his own, skin brown like his. 

He loves them more than anything else in the world, a fact he knows down to his soul. He loves them so much it fills his heart with sunlight. Danny squeezes them tight, nuzzling into their hair; he makes them laugh. Then, he proudly boasts something. That when he takes something of their father’s, that his person — a sibling? That feels right — will be… the word fades from Danny’s mind before he can make sense of it. 

His person hugs him tight, his… brother? And their mother — a woman whose face he can’t remember either, but who he loves like a limb nonetheless — appears, smiling. Her hands reach for them both, voice calling them, ‘her sons’. There’s ticking in the distance, it sounds like the fastening of chains.

Danny wakes up cold, tears streaming down his face. The details of the dream already fading from his mind like the cold pull of a corpse.   

—-------

Harpy hare

Where have you buried all your children?

Tell me so I say

—-------

When school starts that Fall, Danny joins the sixth grade class, and quickly learns more things about himself. One of those things being that he’s smarter than the rest of his grade, whatever education he had before, it was better than the one he’s getting now. 

Everyone knows he’s adopted right off the bat. He tells them when the teacher forces himself to introduce himself, but it’s not like they needed him to tell them for them to know; he never existed in their little world before now, and the Fentons are pale as they come. Danny is not.

He befriends Sam Manson and Tucker Foley; they ask him about the scars fading up and down his arms, they ask him about the scar carved diagonal across his face.

Danny, as politely as he can, tells them he doesn’t remember. He thought kindness would come second nature to him, his dream burned into his mind where he hugged his brother so sweetly. Apparently, his sweetness is only second nature to people he considers his own. 

(It becomes even more apparent when Dash Baxter tries to bully him later that day, and Danny ruffles like an eagle threatened. His mind whispers, hissy and agitated, sinking like a shadow at his shoulder, several different ways Danny could kill him for talking to him like that, and fifteen more ways he could cripple him.)

(Danny ignores those thoughts, up until Dash Baxter tries to grab him. Then he breaks his nose on the wood of his desk. It’s easy how quickly the rest of his grade sinks him down to the status of social pariah.)

(At least Sam and Tucker still talk to him after that. When Danny goes to the principal’s office later, he wisely doesn’t mention the worse things he could’ve done than break Dash Baxter’s nose.)  

—--------------

It clicks and it clatters in corners and borders

And they will never

Hear me here listen to croons and a calling

I'll tell them all the

Story, the sun, and the swallow, her sorrow

Singing me the tale of the Harpy and the Hare

—-------

More dreams come, of course they do. Each one halfway to forgotten whenever he wakes up, ticking faint in his ears. He is many different ages. He is young, shorter than a table. He is older, holding onto his little brother. He is singing in almost every single one. He is singing to his brother. 

Danny can barely remember the lyrics, he’s begun leaving a journal by his bedside so that it’s the first thing he can write down when he wakes up. He’s a storyteller, he learns. He feels like a historian, trying to piece together a culture long dead and forgotten. 

His most vivid dream-like memory is not a happy one, and for once he’s almost relieved he barely recalls it. He is somewhere that isn’t home, but his mother and brother are there. He is dressed in black, blades keen in his hands. 

They are atop a moving train. They are fleeing something. His brother is struggling to keep up, he is small, and young. It’s beautifully sunny, they are somewhere green and lovely. 

It is a fast dream. 

His brother stumbles on something, and Danny, fast as a whip, snatches him by the back of his shirt and hoists him up to his feet before he can fall. “Watch your feet, habibi.” He murmurs low, a hand on his back. It’s hard to hear, there is wind in their ears.

His brother, face obscured in all but his eyes, which are green as emeralds, nods. 

The dream blurs, but Danny falls behind. His foot catches on air — impossible, it should’ve been, at least. He never trips. — and he lands against the roof with a thud and a grunt. His mother and brother stop, and turn for him. 

The train hits a turn before Danny can get up, and he shouldn’t have, something pulls on him, he swears, but he slips. He can’t find the purchase to pull himself up, cold fear hits him as his nails scrape against the metal. 

His mother and brother’s horrified faces are the last thing he sees before he disappears off the side of the train. 

(The ticking is at its loudest when he wakes up, pounding against his inner skull. He only manages to write down ‘train fall’ in his journal, before he’s flipping over to press his head into his pillow to get the pain to stop.) 

—---  

She can't keep them all safe

They will die and be afraid

Mother, tell me so I say

(Mother, tell me so I say)

—-------

When Danny is fourteen he is still humming songs he can’t remember, his mind still in a broken puzzle. But his room is now decorated with stars and plants in every corner. He has a guitar he keeps in the corner of his room, and he plays the lullabies in his head on the strings over and over again. 

The ectoplasm in the fridge still unsettles him, still reminds him of a past he can’t recall. The knife beneath his mattress has returned to the kitchen — he doesn’t need it. He found a box in the attic last year, it had his name on it, and inside he found familiar, strange clothes, and more weapons than he thought was possible to carry on one person. 

(Even without knowing that the Fentons prefer guns to blades, Danny knows, instinctively, that they were his weapons. He was — was? Is — a dangerous person. He takes the box down to his room to sort through. The weapons all fit into his callused hands almost perfectly — the grooves worn to fit his palm. They’re just a little small.) 

(He tentatively takes a small blade with him to school one day, and feels much more comfortable with it sheathed beneath his shirt. He’s kept it on him ever since, like he’s reunited a lost limb to himself.)   

Danny doesn’t have a name for his person, his little brother, nor does he have a name for his beloved mother. He’s haunted by dreams every few weeks, many of them repeating. He’s ingrained the words he can remember to memory, and the ones he doesn’t, he writes down in his journal. His little brother; Danny calls him a bird, he can’t figure out what kind. His little bird of some kind; when Danny takes something from their father — what, he can’t remember what — then his little brother will be a little bird. 

(He doesn’t have a name for his brother, yet, but he’s calling his birdie in his head. It’s better than nothing.)

—------

Seeker, do you ever come to wonder

If what you're looking for is within where you hold

Will you leave a trail for them to follow a path

You'll soon forget

Home

—---------

When he’s fourteen, Danny dies. It does nothing to fix his fractured memories, much to his consternation. It just confirms something he already knows; that he was someone dangerous, and that he still is. 

When the shock of death has worn off, Danny inspects his ghost in the metal reflection of the closest table. It’s blurry, hard to see, but shock green eyes pierce back at him, green like the portal. Lazarus, Danny’s mind whispers, and he blinks rapidly.

‘Lazarus,’ he mouths to himself. It’s familiar. Sam shows him with her phone what he looks like, joking that he looks like an assassin. Danny doesn’t think she’s that too far off. 

He doesn’t tell her that. He tucks the thought away with the rest of his secrets, and fiddles with the hood gathering at his neck, attached to a cape with torn edges swinging down to his ankles. He pulls it over his shock white hair. It shadows over his face impossibly so, until all you can see are his green-green eyes peering out like a wolf hiding in the brush.

He ends up calling himself Phantom. 

(Maybe now he can start putting lyrics to his lullabies; his memories may not have returned, locked away with the sound of a clock, but the dead can talk. One of them may just have answers.) 

----------

Home is where we are

Home is where you are

Home is where I am

-----------------

Dedicated to @gascansposts for being the one who introduced me to the band Yaelokre, and thus being the whole reason I was inspired to write this in the first place >:] Those lyrics at the line breaks are all from their album Hayfields.

[navree]

Incorrect, the fact that Biden has dropped out and a candidate with history of supporting medicare for all and being more receptive to a ceasefire in the I/P conflict has made me go from "I cannot morally support the Democratic nominee" to "I am voting for the Democratic nominee despite the fact she isn't perfect in every respect." I'm really happy this played out. The Dems for the most part abandoned the old Obama platform and it feels like its possible an actual progressive agenda could come to pass in my lifetime.

Kamala 2024!

If you weren't going to vote Democratic in this election before Biden dropped out you're a dorkass loser who does not care about any of the issues you're yammering about here and also a fundamentally bad person, and I hope you get run over by a bus.

But you got one thing right in all of this gibberish, Kamala 2024.

[surreal-duck]

es rarepair week 2024 day 1 | AU/future

lil ghostic au of mine!!! yuzuru and the rest of fine are long since trapped souls in an abandoned mansion of which rst come across while looking for shelter during a storm :] it doesnt um. particularly end well

[reminiscentrainclouds]

I finally finished playing the yttd emotion route AND the mini episodes (I had only played through the logic route beforehand), and it made me want to doodle a bunch of characters I haven't drawn yet. Except for the top two. I just wanted to draw Joe and Ranmaru.

[casualavocados]

…It's nice. You're so noisy. […] Actually, it'd be better if we died together. That way, neither of us would have to suffer the pain of losing the other, right? Shut up.

KISEKI: DEAR TO ME Ep. 13

[cerealmonster15]

i want jamiazu + idikei to go on a double date so badly i think the vibes would be So Very Turbulent

[ineffectualbookseller]

The way Azirphale is underestimated and practically infantalized by heaven is so closely tied to his femininity and I think we should talk about it more because I just want to shout about how relatable the way he's treated in his workplace is as a woman working in a traditionally male field

It's in all the little niggling comments from your boss about personal things that hold no bearing on your work

and the assumption that what you're doing must be simple if it was assigned to you

your work is trivialized

and you get these the placating smiles when you're told plans and proposals are rejected and passed over

or when your complaints are dismissed

and you get more of the same from upper management

it all feels so frustrating and draining but you're at work so all you can do is take a breathe put on that mask and move on with your day

It is all so deteimental to your emotional well being and textually, so much of this is tied to Aziraphale's softness, his gayness - his femininity

The thing about working in an environment and gives you this feeling - of being simultaneously destrought watching your belief in yourself get chipped away but also just so irate becuase you know you don't deserve it - is how it builds. It sinks under your skin and feeds into this indignant dejection until you can have a moment of release - but Azirphale doesn't get to bitch about it over drinks with friends, he doesn't get a lunch break where he can go for a walk and listen to an angry scandi death metal playlist, he doesn't even get the chance to cry about it in the bathroom for 5 minutes before confronting it again

(And I talked a little bit about it in the tags of this beautiful photoset but this all comes into play whenever Crowley dismisses his plans or calls him an idiot. These are purely emotional reactions; I really don't think Crowley means much by it - he respects Aziraphale's opinion and genuinely thinks he's brilliant - but Crowley is so quick to use this terminology when Aziraphale is making a decision Crowley thinks is wrong and he doesn't know how much this hurts Aziraphale. Just like Aziraphale doesn't understand the true impact the Fall had on Crowley, Crowley doesn't understand the ways heaven has been tearing away at Aziraphale's self worth)

Aziraphale has been facing this constant drip of denigration since before the beginning of time and has never released the pressure valve. At this point, he's a bomb waiting to go off

[claitea]

i've had these scenarios written down since volo's debut in pokemon masters and i just really wanted to scribble them down and finally release them

[hychlorions]

they match :')

[luck-of-the-drawings]

"And soda; runs off into the street..." "...and soda... is totally okay!"

[ratatatastic]

"Is [Barkov] a normal dude? Meaning like—is he just like, you're having a cheeseburger some day and he's like 'Oh, no, no, no! I need this, I need the superfoods,' like is he kind-of... is he a normal guy?" "'Is that Wagyu or no?'" "'I need, you know, the best of the best,' Like how is he?" "He's undercover really funny, especially when you get to know him. I don't think he said much for the first 3 to 5 years. But I always joke with him I've never been invited to his house and we've played together for 10 years." "Dude, Brandon Montour said the same thing! We had him on last year! He's like, 'Dude, he's never had us over! We're always like—' But he doesn't live by all you guys, right? He kind-of lives a little further out?" "Yeah, he lives 20-30 minutes away in Boca [Raton.] But, yeah, no I—Listen, it's just his personality. It's who he is, and we respect him for it. Like I said, he's a really funny guy when you get to know him, and sometimes he's got those one-liners. And, you know, he's one of those perfect humans, right? You know, one of the guys we all strive to be, and we'll all come short forever, but—yeah, he's a good person."

The Cam & Strick Podcast | 7.30.24 (x)

i hope this bit never ends if not for the fact that each time ekky has to say it he has to add another year to it which adds to the comedy of it all

"Hey, who's got the best setup on your team with the Panthers? When all the boys get together, 'We're going to your crib. We're gettin' on the jet skis,' whatever. Who's got the best setup?" "Yeah, um—Aaron [Ekblad]'s probably...I mean, Aaron's been there the longest. Hopefully, Barkov hears this! He's been there the longest, but he never invites the boys over to his house!" "Oh~ Barky!" "Is he cheap?" "I'm gonna call Barky out right now, and see if he can invite the whole team over next year..." "Is he cheap? Is he cheap? What is it?" "Will he do it?" "Oh, he's up in 9 East—obviously, like quiet, unbelievable guy, but he's the only up in Boca [Raton.] So I don't know if anybody wants to even drive up to Boca..." "Oh, Fancyland Zone..." "What do you mean? How far is that away from where you are? Like, and everybody else?" "Yeah, we're all in Ft. Lauderdale, Las Olas—within probably... you know some families are in Parkland by the arena, but we're all within probably 10 minutes away and he's up 30, 40 minutes away so."

The Cam & Strick Podcast | 7.25.23 (x)

the boys ribbing sasha for living so far away and never inviting them to his house but still going btw hes amazing and incredible and perfect and sososo good we say this to tease him but like this is just who he is as a person and we accept that so please dont misconstrue this into something its not this is a joke and we dont take it to heart

and on that topic its really a shame that NA media doesnt know how fucking funny and how absolutely unserious he can be. I understand the notion of diligent no-nonsense captain is a prevalent idea (which he is lets make that clear he takes hockey so seriously) but especially since this season hes said hes cut down on weight so he could skate faster (and the results show) so i understand where the questions are coming from knowing the track record but also

we've won a cup and hes ramped it up its fantastic and this is one of my favourite examples of it of how quippy he can be

happy to talk about my cappy!!! happy to tease my cappy!!!

"and you know hes one of those perfect humans right? you know one of the guys we all strive to be, and we'll all come short forever but yeah he's a good person" do you also cry about how terribly fond and sincere ekky gets about sasha

[doverstar]

actually I love Tentoo and he is the Doctor and it was the only ending for Rose that worked and it is a huge gift to be able to have the man she loves grow old with her, they were always heading for that, y'all be quiet. I 100% understand the angst but it's okay, they're okay, good ending-

[masakianzai]

Sakura: They're all too nice to say it but im sure they'll be disappointed. They left it all up to me and I couldn't live up to their expectations. I'm letting everyone down and burdening them because I couldn't win on my own

Sugishita: IM FUCKING DISAPPOINTED IN YOU. I LEFT IT ALL UP TO YOU WHY ARE YOU PUSHING THIS ON EVERYONE ELSE

Sakura: a