#I could teach every figurative language device from his works alone its wonderful

[heavensarcher]

Unreal Unearth lyrics making me go feral (affectionate)

The heart is too big. The brain too wired. Here are some faves.

When he wrote:

I wanna run against the world that's turnin' I'd movе so fast that I'd outpace the dawn I wanna be gonе I wanna run so far, I'd beat the mornin' Before the dawn has come, I'd block the sun If you want it done

and when he speaks:

What you're given, what you live in Darling, it finds a way to live in you.

And then when he said:

Wish I'd known it was just our turn (We just got by) Being blamed for a world we had no power in (But we tried) You and I had nothin' to show (We didn't know) But the best of the world in the palm of our hands (Anythin', darlin') And darlin', I haven't felt it since then I don't know how the feelin' ended But I know bein' reckless and young Is not how the damage gets done

And when he sang:

So far from home to have a stranger call you, "Darling" And have your guarded heart be lifted like a child up by the hand In some town that just means 'Home' to them With no translator left to sound A butchered tongue still singin' here above the ground

and when he spoke:

I'm still glad I met you the memory hurts but does me no harm"

and when he told us:

When that part of you was ripped away A grip taking hold like a cancer that grows Each piece of your body that it takes Though I know my heart would break I'd tell them, "Put me back in it" Da-darling, I would do it again If I could hold you for a minute Da-darling, I'd go through it again

and when he murmurs:

Heaven is not fit to house a love like you and I

and when he sings:

I don't wanna be anything But I would do anything just to run away

and when he admits:

Darling, there's a part of me I'm afraid will always be Trapped within an abstract from a moment of my life.

and when he cries:

I can scarce believe what I'm believing in could this be how every day begins? the sky set to burst the gold and the rust the colour erupts you filling my cup the sun coming up like I lived my whole life before the first light

and when he says:

and though I burn, how could I fall when I am lifted by every word you say to me?

and when he recalls:

the last time I felt your weight on my chest, you said "we didn't get it right but, love, we did our best" and we will again

and when he beseeches:

and all things end all that we intend is scrawled in sand or slips right through our hands and just knowin' that everything will end should not change our plans when we begin again

and when he comments:

Get some pull up the ladder when the flood comes throw enough rope until the legs have swung seven new ways that you can eat your young come and get some skinnin' the children for a war drum puttin' food on the table, sellin' bombs and guns it's quicker and easier to eat your young

[risingfire17-the-weeb-trash]

The Ones Who Walk Away- Ch 4- Homework

Seven’s point of view. Seven helps Yoosung with his homework, and ends up revealing a side of himself he never planned to! They reference a short story called “The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas” by Ursula K. Le Guin, a story about a “perfect” society where the happiness of everyone depends on the absolute misery of one child, who is locked away. The others all know about it, and have to choose: save the child or save their own happiness. Most choose their happiness. A few choose to leave for the scary unknown world beyond Omelas. No one tries to rescue the child. Seven sees himself and his brother in this child, and he’s certain his story cannot be rewritten. Will Yoosung help him rewrite the story, or will he become trapped in a fate of his own? That’s going to be the central question of this fic.

              He was not sneaky at all, so I had plenty of time to hide the computer screens before he opened the door. I still mentally cursed having to work with an outsider around. Talk about security breach risk!

                 “Ever hear of knocking?”

                 “It’s not your office.”

                 “Not yours either.” Not wanting to look at the kid’s crestfallen face for too long, I asked, “What’s up?”

                 He held up an envelope. “It’s your payment. Rika left it with me.” Payment? More like my next instructions. My payment was, and always will be, his safety. Not that the kid needed to know that.

                 “Just leave it by the door. I’ll grab it on my way out.”

                 I expected him to leave. What I didn’t expect was for him to linger in the doorway, twiddling his thumbs and looking at the floor. I just couldn’t catch a break. “What is it?”

                 “Well…I was wondering if you could help me.” He pulled what looked like a schoolbook out of his pocket. “I have to read this for English class, but there’s this word I don’t understand, and the back part of my English-Korean dictionary got ruined a while back, and you said you were a genius so I thought maybe you’d know English…” Kid’s face was red. Like red. He would not look me in the eyes. It was honestly adorable, in such an infuriating way! Couldn’t he just leave him alone?

                 “You ever think of just looking it up on your phone?”

                 “I tried, but I can’t get internet for some reason.” Oh. That made sense. With the work I was doing, it was no surprise other devices in the house might have an unstable connection. And damn, he looked so pitiful. All over one homework assignment. What a life, huh?

                 “Oh, hell, you’re just lucky I have some updates to wait on before I can continue this.” That was true. Not that I needed to admit that to him. What the hell was I doing? “Lemme see.”

                 I cannot remember the last time I saw a smile as bright as his as he rushed toward me. Yeah, no way he was getting that close to the computers. Instead I guided him toward the couch. “Yeah, yeah, quit groveling and let me see the word. Oh, that’s pronounced yoo-tow-pee-uh. It’s like…a perfect place, where no one suffers, like a paradise.” I had a whole history lesson, complete with commentary, on the idea of utopia, but that was probably a bit more information than he needed for his homework.

                 “Oh thank you! That word was all over the review questions and I couldn’t figure it out! English is hard!” So this is how normal kids learn, huh? I wouldn’t know. I’d learned three languages in two years, and had started two more. The agency needed me to learn a lot of languages so I could hack into international databases. And the agency had a way of making sure their agents understood the importance of learning quickly.

                 Luckily for me, I absorbed knowledge like a sponge. Both useful things like languages and codes, and useless things like the rise and inevitable fall of “Utopian” societies.

                  Unfortunately for me, I sometimes lacked the ability to keep my damn mouth shut. Like now. “So, what’re you reading?”

                  “Oh, uh, it’s called ‘The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas.’ It’s American.” Well, now that he’d gone and mentioned one of my favorite foreign short stories, I would certainly have a hard time keeping my mouth shut!

                  “Ah! I can see why you’d need the word ‘utopia,’ then! Omelas is definitely utopia; it’s clean and bright and everyone is happy, and they get to have festivals all the time! It’s perfect, right?”

                 “I guess, but what about the kid who has to suffer for all that to exist? And everyone just lets it happen! Even the ones who say they care just leave instead of trying to stop it! Isn’t it horrible?” His lip was quivering. Damn, normal people had such weak stomachs. Couldn’t face the truth.

                  I didn’t bother to ask him what he would do if he was a resident of Omelas. I knew what he would say, that he would pull some heroic bullshit and rescue the kid, to hell with the fabric of their society. I also knew what he would actually do, had he been raised there. He’d be a good boy and do what his elders told him. He would cry a bit and then forget the manner entirely to protect his own sanity. He was only human, after all, and there was only so much that normal humans untouched by darkness could understand.

                   But something in me raged when I thought about good boy Yoosung Kim turning a blind eye to the suffering of children like that one, like me, like…him. Children of darkness. My stomach started to twist. All I wanted was for this boy to stay innocent and away from the darkness, so why now did I feel a burning desire to force him to see its ugly face?

                  “Hey. What would you do if you were the kid?” I leaned in, eager to see what answer he could come up with. When he could give nothing but incoherent stuttering, the dark urge that had suddenly took over me flared up even more.

                   “Aw, c’mon, think about it! You’re locked up, living in filth and darkness, fed just enough rotten scraps to keep you alive, and everyone who knows about you looks the other way, afraid your suffering is a disease they can catch! Heh. You’re a disease they can catch. Every time someone sees you, you hope they’ll be the one to make it stop, but every time your hope is crushed!”

                    “What would you do if everyone around you was a terrible person that pushed you into darkness?” I held my breath waiting for his answer.

                    “Well, I think I’d…I don’t know, try to talk to them? They’re not cruel, they’re just…scared. But if I could promise them I’d look out for them if they look out for me, then they wouldn’t have to be afraid, even if the world did change.” Huh. They were scared, huh? Should’ve tried to comfort them, huh? As they tried to kill me. Pathetic. What did I expect, though? It’s not like the kid’s logic could ever work in my world. There, kids like him got erased.

                    “And who teaches you to be nice? In fact, who teaches you to talk at all? No one talks to you, down there in the darkness. If you’re going to teach them to be nice to you, you’ve got to learn to be nice first, right? How do you learn to be nice if you’re never shown niceness?” That’s right. No one had taught met to be nice. That’s why I couldn’t be nice to him. He should stay away.

                    He was trembling under my gaze now, and his eyes were filled with tears. I wondered how long it had been since I had last worn such an expression. Years, at least. Of course, back then, I had actually lived in darkness. This kid was about to break just hearing about it.

                    “Wh-what would you do?”

                    “Me?” Wrong question to ask, cutie pie. “I’d become just as evil as my tormentors. No. Not just as evil. More evil. I would watch everything they do and learn to do it far better than they ever could. That’s the only way to take care of yourself in a world like that. Don’t you think?”

                    His head hung. “I…I couldn’t.”

                   “Even if everyone let you suffer? Even if no one cared?” He nodded. I was getting angry now. Stop acting like this, kid! Stop saying it’s okay for others to hurt you! Stop being a good boy! Stop acting like him!

                  He looked into my eyes, and I realized a few things: first, that I had gone way too far. And second, that I had stopped the strict monitoring I always had of my facial expressions. This kid just saw beneath a mask that has fooled criminal masterminds. Why had I let him?

                 Was it because he reminded me of him?

                 Before I could turn the whole thing into a sick joke, the boy collapsed in my arms, tears dampening my shirt. All my training and I had no idea how to confront this. The sweet boy that should be protected had fallen apart by my own hand, yet he was still hanging onto me. Why?

                 He pushed himself up just enough to look at me with his teary eyes. He was way too close, but I’d forgotten how to move. Through his tears, he asked me in a quivering voice, “is that what you did?”

                 My heart stopped.

                 He saw me.

                 He fucking saw me.

                 Is that what he would ask if he could see me now?

                 His once perfectly groomed brown hair had started to fall into his face. I reached down and tucked them back. It was all I could do, because I could not yet speak, or even move away. He was so close. His shaky breath on my face was my only air as I drowned in a sea of his violet tears.

                Is this what I would do if he confronted me?

               No. I couldn’t compare this guy to my brother anymore. Not when he made my breath quicken like this. Not when he made my blood boil like this. Not when I wanted, so terribly…

              …to kiss him.

              He’d stopped crying. He was staring up at me, waiting for me to make my move. His eyes were so trusting, like he would accept whatever I did. God, how could I have ever wanted to hurt him? How could I want to do anything but protect him?

             I was still moving closer, and he was still letting me….

             And then there was screeching. What? Oh, right. My computer. The updates were done. That’s right. Rika’s computer. I had a job to do. A dirty job. One that should be kept as far away from innocent guys like Yoosung Kim as humanly possible.

               Oh God, what the hell had I just done? Shit, damage control, damage control….

                And then my jokester face was back on, my mask once again hiding everything. And with that, my feelings retreated back to whatever realm of hell they had escaped from. I was calm.

                “And that’s our English lesson for today! Now run along, kiddo, I’ve got work to do!” I hightailed it out of his face and plopped back down at the desk, my back to him. Poor kid. He was probably so confused. Better that than anything else, though.

                “You didn’t answer me. Did you become…evil…to escape evil?” His voice was a terrified whisper. No. We weren’t going there. I was not going to traumatize this poor child anymore.

                 “Ehhh? C’mon, man, we were just having a hypothetical discussion about utopia! Isn’t that what your teacher wanted? I read those review questions, you know!” Goofy smile, remember to crinkle the eyes. Singsong voice. Dramatic arm flourishes. Perfect.

                 “It seemed…a bit more….” Nope. It wasn’t. It can’t be.

                 “Listen kid, you asked for help on your homework. I delivered. That’s all. Sorry if you can’t tell the difference between that and some sort of…I dunno, bonding experience with some guy you just met.” Poor guy would probably take that to heart and beat himself up for it, but it was better this way. He’d hurt far more if he tried to get close to me.

                 “Oh. I see. Um, thanks. And…I’m sorry for making it weird.” And then he ran from the room, leaving me to finish my work in peace. Thank goodness it was so easy to lose myself in. See, this kind of work is just a series of puzzles, and puzzles follow certain rules. I know all the rules, so no puzzle could keep me stumped for long. But when there’s a good puzzle in front of me, like the one on this computer, I could dedicate myself, body and soul, to the pursuit of victory. And drown out everything else for a while. Like people.

                 People followed rules too, but there was a lot more variance to account for with people. It’s funny, my safety depends on reducing people to a set of predictable variables, but if I’m honest with myself, a lot of my “predicting” people is educated guesswork, prayer, and waiting for my inevitable failure, and with it, my demise.

                 When I finished, I put everything back in place like I’d never been here. I picked up the envelope on my way out of the room. Usually I waited until I was home to read these assignments, but annoying thoughts of Yoosung Kim were wandering into my mind, and I really needed my next puzzle to drown those out. I was almost out the back door when I read the contents of the envelope, just one simple sentence, in Rika’s handwriting:

                “Keep an eye on him.”

                 I froze. “Keep an eye” on whom? Surely, she couldn’t mean…

                 But this job hadn’t involved anyone else for me to “keep an eye on.” And that would explain why she had suddenly left him here with me. But why now? Hadn’t she kept him away from scum like me all these years? Why was she changing all that? What the hell was she playing at?

                 And if she had chosen to get him involved, what did she plan to do with him?

                 But I didn’t have the luxury of thinking like that. This was a job. And that job kept my brother safe. I would just have to suck up whatever strange feelings this boy had dragged out of me and do it. I turned away from the back door. I’d go out the front, past that table where I knew he was. Studying like a good boy.

                 His eyes darted up when he saw me. They followed me as I walked into the room and stood over him. They widened as I made an offer he wouldn’t refuse.

                 “I’ll tell you my name.”

                 “R-really?” Immediately his face lit up, as if I hadn’t terrified him a short while ago.

                 “Yeah. Consider it a peace offering. I can take my jokes too far sometimes, and I’m sorry.”

                 “Oh, um, I forgive you!” A terrible idea, really.

                 “I’d…like to forget it and start over. So hear me out. I’ll tell you my name, if you promise never to mention that sick little joke of mine again.” I gave him my brightest smile and held out my hand for him to shake. “What do you say?”

                 “I, yes! Deal!” He took my hand eagerly, as I figured he would. I gripped his hand so he could not pull away, and before he could protest, I knelt down to whisper in his ear:

                 “My name is Luciel. I’ll see you around, Yoosung.”

[nhlarchived]

NYC ~ Mathew Barzal

Chapter Three

Ch. One ~ Ch. Two ~ Ch. Three ~ Ch. Four ~ Ch. Five

Word Count: 2,573

Warnings: Mature Language

Wattpad

As if going to school wasn’t boring enough on its own, Mother Nature decided to give us a rainstorm today. Thankfully the MTA station was not only directly in front of my apartment building, but also outside of where my class was being held for the day. Allowing me to avoid being completely drenched from the torrential downpour. 

I didn’t mind the forecast too bad, I actually love storms. However, I enjoy them the most while I’m at home watching from the comfort of my own bed, using it as white noise to take a nap. Yet here I sit in my uncomfortable plastic seat watching droplets race each other down the glass window while a professor fifty feet away speaks gibberish into a microphone. 

My class this morning was of course, one of my least favorites. Not that I hated it due to being difficult, only because I knew practically everything already and I could teach the class better than the professor himself. So, for entertainment before I passed out from pure boredom, I decided to occupy myself by texting Mathew after his morning practice had ended. 

Similar to how he is in person, he was great with holding a conversation. In fact, I almost forgot I was even in class. He decided to explain more in depth on his life back home in Vancouver, telling me about his parents, sister and even about their dogs that he’s apparently terrified of. I was so invested in the stories he was telling that as he was confessing some embarrassing ones, I accidentally let out a giggle that I had to quickly cover with a fake cough to not disrupt the class. Although I couldn’t trick the people closely surrounding me as I had a permanent smile plastered on my face that my hand couldn’t even hide. 

As much as I could through text, I made my potential feelings towards him obvious as he did the same for I, but after last night I couldn’t help but worry if this would work out or not. The money from nannying was the only thing covering my student loans and necessities. I was living on my own in one of the most expensive cities as a full time student. I’m fortunate enough that my distant family owned my current apartment and allowed me to reside there as long as I maintained at the very least a 3.8 GPA. However the cost of my loans, food, transportation, miscellaneous bills and school supplies were a lot to handle and nannying was the only thing flexible enough for my schedule. 

Class finally released and I made my way back to the subway with only getting slightly wet from the rain. It was torturous underground as the fahrenheit was roughly around 50° and the humidity still found a way to crawl under my skin. Once on the train I took a corner seat next to the exit while a business man in a suit relaxed on my right. 

My phone vibrated which I had assumed was Mathew, but to my surprise Rebecca’s name had appeared at the top of the screen accompanied by a glowing ‘slide to answer’ bar across the bottom. My heart started pounding through my chest wondering if Dennis had mentioned the event from last night. My mind imagining the worst case scenario of her telling me I can’t talk to him anymore or even worse, having them fire me. 

“Hello?” I spoke nervously into the line after subconsciously sliding the white call circle with my thumb. 

“Cassie! I️ hope you’re doing well!” She responded excitedly. I released an agonizing breath once hearing the positive tone she was using. She’s not the type to be passive, she’s one of those people where if she was upset or disappointed, she would let it be known. 

“I’m pretty good, how are you?” I answered sweetly, now beginning to question why she would be calling mid-day like this. 

“I’m wonderful, and I️ would be even better if you could do me a huuuge favor.” She suggested. Nine times out of ten this meant she needed me to babysit with short notice. However, the unusual part was she normally texts me instead of calling.

“Yeah of course, anything for you guys!” I replied joyfully. I could definitely use the extra money with the holidays slowly creeping in. Plus, I couldn’t help but still be curious if Dennis had spilled the beans yet or not, and the only way to find out was to see them face to face. 

“Can you sit the kids tonight? Dennis and I️ want to have a little date night before the season starts. Mat said he’s going out with a friend but I trust you more anyway. I’m sure you probably have plans tonight but I️ figured it was worth a shot.” She explained. 

‘Mat said he’s going out with a friend.’ 

Immediately I knew that I was ‘the friend’ since we had planned for him to come check out my lonely apartment tonight. I was bummed that I would have to cancel, but my job and income will always come first. I’m sure Mathew would understand, and if he didn’t then that would be enough verification for me to end whatever relationship we have anyway. 

“No problem at all, I’ll be there!” I confirmed enthusiastically, now exiting the train that was at my stop. I covered my vacant ear with my index finger to better my hearing as I have now joined the exorbitant amount of people on the staircase back to ground level. 

“Oh my gosh you are literally the best. Be here by six?” She requested. I looked down at my watch and the hands sat on the twelve and two. This gave me plenty of time to get ready before catching the LIRR in time to make it there. 

“I’ll see you then.” I confirmed before we said our goodbyes and hung up the phone. 

Once returning to the comfort of my warm and dry apartment, I opened a text message to send to Mathew explaining the cancellation of our plans for the night. 

Cassandra: “I’m sincerely sorry I️ have to cancel tonight. Rebecca needs me to watch the kids so they can go on a date. I️ figured it’s the least I️ could do after upsetting Dennis last night.” 

I pressed the send button and a little pit in my stomach started to grow. I was disappointed. I was highly anticipating hanging with him and getting to know him on a more personable level. But maybe being alone at my apartment was too quick at the moment anyway. I guess having a simple restaurant date first wouldn’t hurt. 

It wasn’t long before I felt a vibration from the device in my hand. His name playing across the screen directly underneath the time. I wasted no time before entering my passcode and revealing the message. 

Mathew: “Don’t worry about it I️ understand. Besides, now that I’m not going anywhere tonight, that means we get to watch the kids together ;)” 

As if Dennis wasn’t skeptical enough, there was no way he was going to be enthusiastic about the two of us alone with the kids. Although, this could be the perfect opportunity to prove to him that I can maintain self control. Let’s just hope it’s the second one. 

It was now a quarter till six and of course, it was still raining. I quickly sprinted to the porch where I could be protected from the precipitation. I rang the bell and it was only a matter of seconds before Rebecca opened the door, completely taking my breath away with her appearance. Wherever Dennis was planning on taking her tonight was clearly going to be elegant. 

Once entering into the foyer the three kids, already dressed in their pajamas, ran up and attached to my legs. Giggles echoing through the large house as I tried to keep my balance. It warms my heart every time they do this. It doesn’t matter how much time we spend together or the short amount of time from when I last saw them. I was basically just an older sibling to them. Even the parents watched in awe as they saw the genuine joy pour out of their children.

“Alright, alright. We know you’re excited but try not to break her legs.” Rebecca recommended causing them to ease off my legs that way I could stand normal again. Dennis then appeared from the hallway handing Rebecca her purse. Nervous, I felt my body begin to sweat as I was still unsure of where we stood. 

“Since it’s raining, no going outside. Also, there may be no school tomorrow, but you still have to be in bed by eight. Deal?” Dennis acknowledged the kids. They all nodded their heads before running off to the game room down the hall, instructing me to follow them. Before I went with them I turned to Rebecca as she usually has some sort of instructions to give me for the night. 

“They’ve already eaten so no need to feed them tonight. If they start asking for ice cream, no problem, just make sure it’s before seven. You pretty much know the deal.” She explained while grabbing her umbrella and walking into the garage, entering their car. I nodded my head in agreement.

“Cassandra” I heard Dennis say walking up from behind me, and suddenly I wanted nothing more than to melt through the floor and disappear. “Just to let you know, Mat isn’t going out tonight anymore so he’ll be home. I️ instructed him to stay downstairs so he shouldn’t bother you guys.” He continued. 

I could feel my whole body freeze when he spoke Mat’s name. I was waiting for him to say something along the lines of “If I see you with him again, we’re firing you.”, but luckily that didn’t happen. 

“We should be home by midnight. If it gets too late leave Mat here with the kids and you can go home. No need to stay overnight.” He finished before entering the driver’s side of the car. I shined them a smile and waved goodbye as they left and finally I could now relax knowing Dennis is going to let this slide. 

I played board games with the kids for what felt like hours but was only forty-five minutes. I allowed them to win every time because, well they’re kids, but it made this quite boring for me. However, right before seven o’clock rolled by, they began begging for ice cream just like Rebecca had foreseen. 

I grabbed each of them a bowl, filling it with their desired flavors before they took off to eat in the living room while watching television. I remained in the kitchen, keeping an eye on them over the half wall, and began to rinse off the ice cream scoop before placing it in the dishwasher. 

I grabbed a paper towel to dry my hands off when I felt the presence of fingertips wrapping around my waist. I quickly turned around in panic not sure of who it could be, but then I was met with a smirk that I’ve grown very fond of. A long sigh of relief escaped my mouth after seeing Mathew. My muscles relaxed and my hands that were up in surrender fell onto his chest. I could feel him giggling underneath my fingertips. 

“Oh I’m sorry, did I scare you?” He teased, with his arms still around my waist as he pulled me closer to him. Between his toned muscles under my palms and the way his features crinkled in laugher, I was lost in a daze. I never thought I would see the day where I would be this attracted to someone. Especially someone I had just met. 

Suddenly, a loud noise from the television reminded me of the kids in the next room. I quickly pushed him off of me looking towards the children to make sure they didn’t see anything that had just happened. 

“You can’t do this around the kids.” I whispered anxiously to Mat.  

“I️ can’t hug you? Come on it’s not like we’re sticking our tongues down each other’s throats.” He instigated. I rolled my eyes and ignored his comment. Moving out of his touch and beginning to tidy up the kitchen once again. 

It wasn’t long before his hands found their way around my waist once again. This time feeling his entire body against my back, and his breath near my ear. My heart stopped.

“But I mean, we totally could if you wanted to.” He whispered in my ear erupting goosebumps down my arms. Of course I wanted to. I wanted nothing more at the moment, but this was not the time and place. It took everything out of my to pull from his touch. I lightly tapped my elbow onto his torso behind me before stepping out of his arms. I didn’t want to make an actual impact, just enough that he got the point. I turned around and sent him a dismayed glare. 

“I️ was joking! Partially.” He continued as I tried my hardest to fight back a smile. 

“Dennis made it clear he didn’t want you around us tonight. The last thing I️ need is the kids telling him we were hugging in the kitchen.” I explained, turning Mathew around and playfully pushing his back towards the stairs that lead to the basement. 

“Oh no, not hugging. Only married people do that.” Mat snidely joked. I scuffed behind him as I struggled with my attempt to push him towards the door. I got him halfway there before he decided to bend his knees and lay all of his weight onto my arms, his head falling to my shoulder.

“Oh no, my knees gave out. Looks like you’re going to have to carry me.” Mathew played as I used all my strength to keep both him and I from falling over. All while trying to keep my laughing to a minimum so he couldn’t hear. 

“I️ came here to babysit them, not you!” I teased finally getting him to the basement door. Yet, he didn’t let off any of his weight. 

“I’ll go down on one condition.” He then added, turning his head that was still on my shoulder towards my face, where his nose now tickled my cheek. 

“You have to join me down there once the kids go to sleep.” He whispered so low to the point I almost didn’t hear it. 

This sent me into a whirlwind of thoughts. I wouldn’t have to worry about the kids seeing, since they’re the best sleepers ever and never come out of their rooms. Plus, it's always quiet and lonely after they’re asleep. I normally just sit on the couch and watch TV anyway. Dennis told me to head home after they were all in bed, but staying another couple of minutes couldn’t hurt right? Especially since they were expected to come home late. It sounded almost foolproof. 

“Ugh my legs!” Mat said, clearly becoming impatient for my answer, as he leaned even more weight onto me. 

“Okay okay okay! I’ll see you down there at 8:30.” I answered almost toppling over onto the floor. “Can’t wait.” He stated while finally standing up straight, freeing my muscles as he quickly and happily descended down the stairs.

[haiky-u-lously]

Haikyuu: Soulmate AU Bo and Ku-Chapter 1

Alright, so staying in with my word here is the first chapter of my first attempt at a soulmate AU. Now, before people go up in arms, I was in a very bad place mentally when I wrote this but it made me so much better. I will share the other chapters in the coming days/weeks because I am trying to get some traction started on my resuest for soulmate AU requests.

Thanks for checking it out and questions/comments/anything else is welcome, as always. --Admin Red

Chapters: One | Two | Three | Four

Over the years, Bokuto would become ecstatic at finding little drawings and markings all over his skin. He had always wanted to draw back, but his mother was so against it that he never would.

She reasoned that he needed to focus on school and club activities while he was still young. That he would have time to focus on finding his soulmate later in life.

And as much as he wanted to know them right at that moment, he loved his mom just as much. So, he would respect her wishes.

Until the little drawings stopped showing up altogether.

Bokuto Koutarou had no idea what happened.

They were still alive because sometimes he’d see little reminders they wrote to themselves. But he no longer got the intricate pictures that always made his day.

His mom was ecstatic.

No longer would she have to cover up his skin during club activities. No longer would she have to make sure her son was completely covered before sending him out into the world.

The Fukurodani team would never let Koutarou live it down the Mama Bokuto had been picking out his outfits until half-way through his second year.

But this hurt him. More than he would let anyone know.

He wanted to write.

Scribble something down to let them know he was here.

A silent ask to not be left in the dark.

But then he’d think about his mom.

How upset she got whenever he brought up the topic of soulmates.

How his grandmother slapped him for asking to borrow a pen to trace over one of his soulmate’s drawings.

How his cousins ran away crying when he showed them one.

And he didn’t make a mark.

Until he met another volleyball player with a similar…complication.

The first time Bokuto saw the dark mane belonging to one Kuroo Tetsurou, he couldn’t pull his gaze away. On the inside, he felt as if he was being magnetically pulled to the opposing team’s second year. On the outside, he tried to make it look like he just found the best of a friend.

Kuroo’s smirk that first day told Bokuto that he wasn’t alone in his feeling.

Invisible to the eye, but all the surrounding players figured their soulmate strings were intertwined. No one questioned the sudden bro-mance seeming to blossom between the two males.

Until Kuroo pulled up his shorts to relieve a tattoo.

“I got this after you stopped drawing,” He smiled. Eyes dancing with gleam, thinking I finally found them. “I know it’s not in the same spot, and I probably messed up on how accurate I recalled it. But it’s definitely one of the pictures you drew.”

Bokuto stalled. His own smile wavering before crashing completely while listening to the male. This is wrong. This is way to wrong. He had no control over himself, and before he realized, he was screaming. “HOW DARE YOU HAVE MY SOULMATE’S DRAWING TATTOOED ON YOUR SKIN!”

Everyone within ear shot froze. Sudden concern for the two males showcasing across their features.

A few players from Fukurodani started taking steps forward just to be called back by their coach.

He could tell this was something the lone pair needed to be alone to deal with, and ushered his team away. Indicating to Nekoma’s coach to do the same.

The old geezer was no lover of soulmate drama, and quickly followed suit. Recalling simpler times when the soulmate system seemed to not have as many screw-ups.

As soon as he saw they were alone, Kuroo turned a blood chilling stare to the strange haired boy who had approached him. “What do you mean your soulmate’s drawings? My soulmate drew this last year—”

He was cut off by Bokuto shoving his left forearm out, pointing with his right index finger, “Right here!”

They both became wide eyed. Wondering how it was possible. Thinking something was wrong with them.

They had the same soulmate after all. Before the soulmate stopped their messages.

“But I never got any other writtin?” Bokuto almost wined. Thinking he was the wrong in this equation.

“Neither did I.” Kuroo stated plainly. Giving Bokuto a questioning look.

Sighing, the white and black-haired male laid against the ground. Pulling his hands over his eyes as he explained about his family.

Kuroo tried to be respectful of this stranger’s life. Tried his hardest not to say how shitty he thought it was.

Settled for making snide remarks about how stupid and lonely he thought they must all be.

“What about you?” Bokuto asked. Interrupting his own previous sentence.

Apparently, we are done with that topic... Kuroo found himself thinking before he responded. “I wasn’t supposed to write either. But I don’t care. I found a way around it. I would make stamps at school and then come home and put them on my back after my showers.” He smiled at the thought. “Once I drew a volleyball, trying to tell them a little about me in any way possible.” He looked at his legs as they were pulled closer to his chest. “The next day, there was a volleyball and a net with the number one written by it.” The dark-haired boy shook his head out, “But that was three years ago.”

Bokuto nodded, “I remember those pictures. It’s what got my interest really peaked about the sport. So I guess I was getting your marks too.”

“So, what does it mean?” Kuroo asked. Wanting to finish this and get back to something that was less confusing.

Shrugging, Bokuto indicated that he no idea. “Is there anyone you can talk to?”

“Yea.”

And he left. Heading back to his team, without even glancing back at the boy he had momentarily mistaken for his soulmate.

Two weeks later, a knock dragged Bokuto from his school work.

Opening the door, entered Kuroo and a strange boy that seemed eerily familiar. “This is Kenma. He literally knows everything about soulmates.”

“Shut up, Kuro.” The boy said, sticking a gaming device into his pocket. “Are you going to tell me what the problem is now, or are you going to make me guess?”

Kuroo pouted a bit, and turned his gaze to Bokuto. Hoping the male they had unknowingly interrupted would take over.

A smile made its way across his features. Waving them in as he slid around to close the door behind his guests, Bokuto told as much information as he knew.

“Sounds to me like a three-way pairing. Which probably means one of you isn’t from the same area, prefect, country, etc. as the others.” Kenma said, nearly yawning out of boredom.

Bokuto blinked in rapid succession. Attempting to piece together a coherent response, only to be beaten by Kuroo. “So, we are actually soulmates?” He asked his friend wearily.

I just don’t want to let my hopes up to be crushed again, he thought in the silence before Kenma responded.

“Didn’t I just say that?” He sent an annoyed look to his taller companion. “What did you forget everything in the .2 secs you used your brain?”

Bokuto was about to jump in, say something in defense of the raven-haired male, but upon seeing the smirk on his face, quickly shut his mouth.

“True~ guess you’ll just have to re-teach me everything I need to know.” He winked at the dark-root-haired male, causing the other to blush and turn his attention back to his gaming device.

When did that make a reappearance? Bokuto asked himself. Verbally, he asked, “What do we do now then?”

Kuroo nodded in ascent. He wanted to know the next steps as well.

Sighing Kenma paused his game and sent an exhausted expression to the questioning pair. “Do whatever you want. Love each other, hate each other, doesn’t really matter to me. But, you do have a third soulmate somewhere out there.” He let out a puff of breath somewhere between a sigh and a yawn. “Kuroo you said they stopped drawing, right?”

“Well, yea… but—”

“But nothing. They probably gave up waiting for responses. So, if you want them to start again you need to do something about it.” He un-paused his game before adding, “That’s all there is to it.”

Bokuto’s face fell as he took on the blame for his and Kuroo’s soulmate’s lack of response on himself. “But I can’t do anything for another year and a half. Not as long as I live here…” His eyes pleaded with Kuroo.

Another third to his life.

The male shook his head, hair flying from covering one eye to the other with the motion.

“If my secret stamps weren’t enough there isn’t anything I can do until then either.”

As the two taller, older males thought through their dilemmas, Kenma stepped away. Calling, “Well I let you soulmates figure things out. See you, Kuro. Nice to meet you Kuro’s-soulmate #1.”

Bokuto would swear on a thousand suns that the cat-eyed boy was making fun of them, but his expression was so lack-luster he did not want to make that bet out loud.

“Yea yea Kenma, see ya at practice tomorrow.” Kuroo smirked at his retreating friend.

The boy in question just huffed in response before closing the door behind himself.

Left to their own devices, Bokuto suddenly found himself nervous. “Want something to drink?”

“Please.” Kuroo answered. Turning a smile on him, so beautiful Bokuto’s heart began to race.

______________________________________________________________

You sat in your assigned seat. Waiting for the teacher to hand back your graded assignments.

So bored with the day. It was like every other since you stopped drawing all over yourself.

Since you finally admitted that you didn’t have a soulmate.

At least, one that didn’t want anything to do with you.

At first, you’d let yourself believe they were famous. That bringing you into their life would somehow complicate it and their parents and themselves thought they were protecting you.

Then you started to think about if they didn’t speak your language. It was a common occurrence after all. But that thought dissipated over the years as well. You hadn’t been writing on your skin. You’d been drawing. Heck even (B/F/N)’s soulmate drew stick figures back to them!

“(F/N)!”

You lifted your head from your hand, eyes focusing back in on the classroom. Dropping the train of thought you had been following.

“Papers?” The teacher questioned, holding a stack out to you.

You nodded as you stood and grabbed the stack from them. “Yes, of course.”

You walked between all the chairs and desks. Giving your classmates back their assignments and being sure not to look at their grades.

If you did look, you knew you’d just compare yourself to them.

Not that it’d matter, you thought, they’re all better than me at life anyway.

Your heart stopped as you saw a drawing appear on a classmate’s arm.

The bully of your high school even had their soulmate drawing things to them.

You shook your head out and held in the tears, and depressive state that were quickly sweeping up your body. Finishing the task you accepted from the teacher as to hopefully not let them down even though your existence had let down so many others.

As soon as it was done, you asked and they excused you to the restroom.

Where you sat in one of the stalls and cried to yourself.

 Why couldn’t they even try to get to know me? What is so wrong with me? Do I need to change? What do I need to change? Just tell me! Or is it ‘cause I already know what I need to fix? Is it everything I think of? Like how I am so shitty of a person I can’t always keep my word? Or my fixation on making sure the things I do go properly? Is it my dedication to not wanting to show weaknesses? Or the fact that I haven’t stayed in a place long enough to make any real connections? Is it the fact that my family is shit, and my life story could be turned into a horror film and rake in the big bucks? My analogies? My dorkiness? The way I carry myself? Is it the way I nitpick at myself, for everything I do, because I cannot stand letting a single person down? Or how I’ve had it ingrained that my mistakes mean absolute failure? Or that I cannot believe others even when they say that isn’t true? How can I change if I don’t know what it is you have a problem with? Why haven’t you spoken to me my whole life? Am I not good enough?

You stopped sobbing immediately at the sound of the hinges moving.

The door to the bathroom opened, and you heard a couple voices in the middle of a conversation.

“Yea, she doesn’t have a soulmate.”

The second person gasped, and you lifted your feet to hide the fact that you were there. Knowing the two were discussing you.

“Like, none?”

The first didn’t say anything but you figured they nodded, because the second just gasped again.

“How is that even possible?” The second voice whispered, despite them not even knowing you were within earshot.

“No idea,” the first voice answered, “But a lot of people avoid her because of it. I think she has like three friends here. Maybe. And that’s being generous.”

“Aren’t they nervous her bad luck will rub off on them?”

You didn’t hear anything else as the voices left the restroom.

Must’ve only come in to fix their looks or something.

Sighing, you stood up and left the stall. Used the mirror to fix yourself and make it look like you had not been sobbing this whole time before returning to your English class.

 At least next hour is math. Math has straightforward answers. You’re either right or wrong. There or not. No in-between. No interpretation. Nice and simple.

The way you’ve come to like it.

______________________________________________________________

Bokuto ran up to Kuroo. Jumping into the male and wrapping him in a hug.

“You were so awesome!” He all but screamed into his boyfriend’s ear.

Smiling at his antics, Kuroo returned the hug. “Thanks for the support, Bo.”

Even though he was sad his team did not get to compete in the final match for the spring high in his third year, he was so happy for his boyfriend that his team won the competition.

“Now I get to say I’m dating the captain of the spring high championship team!” He yelled excitedly. Not setting his boyfriend down. Keeping the dark-haired male nuzzled within his large biceps.

Smirking, Kuroo shook his head, “Bo, this was our last game remember? We graduate soon now.”

This caused the high ranked hitter to lose his positivity. Pouting, “Right. I forgot.”

After being placed down, and recognizing the drastic mood change, Kuroo took it upon himself to bring his soulmate’s mood back up. “But that just means we are closer to being on the same team.”

At this reminder, Bokuto became ecstatic once again. Jumping in the air and yelling, “OH OH OH!!!!” Fist pumping with each expression.

While laughing, Kuroo wrapped his hand across Bokuto’s shoulders. “Stick with me, Bo. I brought my team a championship once, I’m sure I can do it again.” He winked before running off. Not allowing his boyfriend to do or say anything more. Dashing to give Nekoma’s volleyball team, the spring high champions, one last captain’s talk.

Bokuto didn’t miss the faltering in Kuroo’s steps as he ran off. Knowing he’d have to help his boyfriend just like he always helped himself.

______________________________________________________________

It had been almost four years since you had stopped drawing.

Two since you stopped caring whether you actually had a soulmate or not.

One since you graduated high school and moved onto college.

And one day since reality hit you. That you weren’t over it at all.

That the lack of a soulmate still held a tight grip on your throat and was suffocating you slowly.

Where your depression and anxiety levels became so high you almost took your own life again.

That your best friend had to talk you down from doing something drastic.

That you cried yourself to sleep.

You walked into the class that caused all of this to begin again.

After months of telling yourself that you were fine now. You walked into a new class, it was the beginning of a new semester after all, and the professor had everyone introduce themselves by saying a few…choice…descriptions.

What’s your name? How old are you? What was the first drawing/writing you remember putting on your skin? What about your soulmate’s first mark? Have you met yet? Where are they?

Every person in the class had a story. All but one other person in the class had their soulmate’s there in the room with them. The other that didn’t wasn’t like you though. They knew their soulmate. Their soulmate just lived on another continent.

You were alone.

Again.

However, this time, the professor was at fault for everyone finding out.

For you being shunned again.

You took a deep breath as you pushed the doors open.

Walking past all the stares, the slight whispers girls passed between themselves as though you wouldn’t hear, and took a seat as far away from where the professor would be as you could.

This class may be required for your major, but you didn’t have to put up with someone who made all that bull shit come back.

As they walked in, the professor looked around the room.

Immediately they noticed your seat change.

A look of horror and discomfort crossed their face as recognition hit. They had done something you obviously were uncomfortable with. And, on the first day none the less. How could they expect you to be the perfect, helpful go-getter student your professor last semester made you out to be.

Weeks passed by and there you were again.

You sat in your unassigned-assigned seat. Tapping a blue marker against the pants covering your thigh.

Thinking.

 Why should I even try? I’m falling farther and farther behind, and it’s not even my fault. It’s the universe’s.

You looked around the rest of the room. Taking note of how everyone in this class had their significant other within arm’s reach. Even the boy who’d started without his in the class was now not alone. Their soulmate having transferred as soon as they could to your school.

Stupid soulmates. Shitty universe. Why don’t I have one?

The thought was out before you could reel it in. Knowing what inner turmoil was going to occur due to this infuriating question, you let your head fall to the desk in front of you. Quietly enough as to not draw the attention of the others in the room. You really did not need all of them to pity you and your depressed state.

Not like they did not know about it. After all, it’s not like your professor had everyone introduce themselves and their soulmates the first day of classes or anything. Not like he didn’t tell everyone in the class to be SUPER RESPECTFUL of the fact that you were the only person in the class that had not found your soulmate. At least he had the courtesy to say yet.

These people did not need to know that you would probably never find them, that you weren’t sure you wanted to.

Hence the reason you believed you didn’t even have one.

 After years and years of drawing all over my own skin, just to never receive a response…fuck them, whoever they are. Fuck the universe and its cruel cruel joke. What did I do to deserve this? I didn’t get bad grades growing up. I didn’t dis-respect my parents. I never made anyone’s lives hard out of spite or just because. I took care of hurt animals…except bugs. Nope, in the house counts as trespassing though…at least I didn’t kill them when I was outside!

Your thoughts turned from chastising yourself to questioning, turning your anger towards, and trying to reason with the empty void that controlled fate. The ‘maybe’ real god or gods that ruled over soulmates and your life.

But who knew. It wasn’t like life treated you any better outside of the soulmate world.

______________________________________________________________

Heaving a sigh, you sat up again. Ready to fake a positive attitude until you could head back to your apartment, curl up into a ball, and ignore the outside world.

Kuroo heard knocking.

Fast and loud, knocking.

On his bedroom door.

“Kuroo wake up!!!!!!” Bokuto yelled through the closed entry way. “You locked your door! I can’t get in!!” He whined.

“That’s because I locked it on purpose!” He yelled back, letting the smirk on his face grow.

The rapid banging stopped, “But whyyyyyyyyyy? I want to snuggle!!!”

Opening his door, wearing nothing but his boxers, Kuroo winked at his boyfriend, “Why~? Well, I don’t want you to see me before I see you.” He teased. Pulling his boyfriend into the room before crashing their lips together.

This living together thing was going to be super enjoyable. They both thought as the kiss found itself deepened.

A few minutes later, Bokuto pulled away. Smiling, he reached into his pocket and grabbed some colorful markers. “Ready for this?”

“Born ready.” Kuroo answered. Shutting his bedroom door for more privacy, despite him and Bokuto being the only two that lived in the apartment.

[mytherapistthinksiamfunny]

Remember The Titans and Black Lives Matter

I learned American History from Hollywood films and pop culture during the Bush Administration. 

My 6th grade teacher was horrified to see my potential wasting away on the frivolity of Based on True Event sport blockbusters and Remakes of Dystopian Nightmares, Sarcastic Teeny Bop Melodramas. 

Or, worse, the Hippy Dippy Nonsense genres that encouraged the youth to remain ignorant Sheeple With A Death Wish like Jackass or Gossip Girl

Despite how that sounds, he wasn’t a condescending prick. He was a good man with very high standards for media that he came off as a snob. Because he was. A snob. With so much nerd rage. That’s what made us bond.

You see, I’m a snob too. I had to be. I am the daughter of immigrants. And I grew up during the Bush Administration. 

I grew up during a time of Prop 187, El Nino, El Morro, Thalia Y Tomy Motola y el secuestro, Pasale Paisano, anti-Cuba sentiment, Fake News, Columbine, Hanging Chads, 9/11/01, Pseudo-Fascism, WMDs, Jingoism, Patriot Acts, They’re Gonna Follow Us Home, Shakira, Katrina, George W Bush Hates White People Kanye Scandal, Militia, NRA Guantanamo, Dixie Chicks, A Day Without A Mexican, Selena the Movie, El CHupacabra, End of the American Dream, Once In A Lifetime Breaking News TRL Britney Once In A Lifetime Civil Unrest Breaking News Breaking News Narco Corridos Breaking News Miramax Breaking News Anthrax Breaking News Marylin Manson, Las Hijas De Juarez, Eugenio Derbez, La Escuelita,  Los Tigeres Del Norte, Los Tucanes De Tijuana, Napster, Metallica Some Kind of Monster, Bono, Apple, Pixar, MySpace, AIM, new tech every 6 months, cell phones, Reggeaton, Walter Mercado Primer Impacto, American Idol,

To boot, I am the daughter of immigrants. Who were hyper-Catholic. And narcissists. And abusive. And alcoholics. Who were allergic to stability, progress, open-mindedness, or anything conducive to raising children in a global crisis. 

So I had to be selective about the media that I consumed. Because my mother was a Batman Villain, my paternal-figure was a reluctant father unwilling to abandon his fuckboi ways for his family, and my brother and I were left to our own devices to figure out how to raise ourselves and our parents. We sucked at it. And years later we are paying for trying.

So, while navigating the highs and lows of our own puberty-induced hormonal roller coaster, we had to think quick and raise our 2nd-adolescence shit show of a parental unit.

We were parentalized. I didn’t know it at the time, but that is what happened to us.

What I did know at the time is that I needed to figure out how to live. Come up with a division of labor within the family unit and ensure that everyone played their role. You know, like the mother typically does.

And in order to play my role, I had to be studious of this different culture. Not just American culture. Not just teen culture. Not just Mexican culture. But all of them. Somehow, I had to find a way to navigate life. Since the age of 9 years old.

It’s exhausting having to be the adult of the house. I did not have a chance to be a child. Or matter to anyone. So I learned to matter to myself.

I learned not to trust anyone to be part of my support system because the people who were supposed to show me what that looked like were emotionally unavailable. And they stubbornly refused to divorce because that would mean they had failed their culture and religion and would be ostracized from the communities made of individuals they hated but stubbornly worked to impress and fit into.

And that meant that I befriended a strange array of really awesome people who made me feel seen and heard and understood. Like this Santa Clause-looking white dude with a motorcycle fetish and a kind touch with prepubescent girls with culture shock and daddy issues. Best of all, he was genuine. And sweet. And not at all inappropriate with children. That’s not sarcasm. He was not inappropriate with me or anyone else that I knew of. He truly was a great teacher.

Which is why I tried to keep in touch with him long after 6th grade. He was a computer nerd and introduced me to the wonder of the internet. And internet humor. And being opinionated. He was my Big Guy Bow Tie.

His opinion meant so much to me and I wanted to please him so badly.

And not once did he cross a line that would make it harder for me to thrive and move past the other trauma I was being exposed to. 

How sad that I feel compelled to reiterated that he never diddled me. Sad for his reputation and sad that I have come to terms with how vulnerable I was to predators. 

He was a real one.

I knew that my feelings were not normal in the broader sense of the word. But I understood that it was all I had to work with  and make magic with it. So I figured out that I would have to be very guarded and selective with my time, effort, and social circle. Which often meant I was the smart young adult in a group of what I thought were sophisticated adults but were really ghost of my future if I did not get past my daddy issues in a healthy way.

By the time I got to high school, I was the weird kid

I had no idea how I got there. But I had to figure out how to follow my passion without wasting my potential.

My passion is art. Specifically, music. But in general? Art. Books, Poetry. Knowledge.

And because that wasn’t complicated enough: I was discovering my own sexuality. 

And the first born first generation Mexican American with hyper Catholic parents.

I may as well have come out as a supporter of the Axis of Evil

They would never understand that I was ACTUALLY part of the Axis of Awesome

They would not understand. It would be lost in translation

So I had to learn to be silent with my truth. Forever hiding in the shadows and wondering when my life might begin

It began when I learned that the library was my escape. That I could learn about anything I wanted with very basic tools and that my ingenuity would get me far

But what does any of this have to do with Remember The Titans? Or Black Lives Matter?

Well... everything.

Because in addition to my parents being old fashioned and abusive, they were also closet racists. I had to teach myself not to ingrain their prejudices as I trusted them to keep me alive. I had to walk a very fine line between Daddy’s Girl and Daddy Issues. A fine line between Mommy’s Little Princess and Mother Knows Best and No The Fuck You Don’t.

And I managed to do that with the renaissance of black content creators in the early 2000s. Remember the Titans was a favorite of mine. 

Little did I know

I was teaching myself to experience different cultures without appropriating them. I found what I was into and I immersed myself in it.

But I hid it. I silenced my opinions and tried to keep the peace. For the sake of my family.

That did not work. Shocking.

But I was left with the realization that even though my effort was wasted with my nuclear war of a family, I learned valuable lessons that I taught myself. Including that Black Lives Matter, anyone who has trouble acknowledging that needs to grow the fuck up and learn something cause we’re running out of time and ain’t nobody got time for ignorance an fear with a mad man in the white house.

And I don’t want to miss out on my life simply because I come from dysfunction and am constantly playing catch-up to understand what normal is and how to achieve it

I am not alone in this. I come from a generation of American children who learned to cope with complex issues of race, politics, satire, drugs, over-medication. self-medication, financial irresponsibility, weaponized faith and ignorance. It was the dawn of the age of the Basket of Deplorables. And Millenials were caught in the crossfire. I was caught. And I learned. Black. Lives. Matter. Women have voices and opinions that matter and a feminine point of view is crucial to the success of any business endeavor. I taught myself feminism and  committed to its intersectionality before I knew it may be a word the dictionary I owned was missing. I learned that words matter because language has power. I tasted the crispness of that juicy apple from the tree of knowledge. And I wanted to marinate in its juices until i was good and goddamn ready to be tasted and known myself.

Oh yeah, I learned my Daddy Issues manifest themselves in a need to sexually please emotionally unavailable men.

So I chose as wisely as I could. You know, what with the inmates running the asylum 

But my god am I into drummers! And linebackers! And Cheating Ass Marine  Motherfuckers With Secret Families in Portland who Ghost a Bitch Just When She’s About to Fall!!!

My picker is off. I learned that phrase from Loveline. Another resource in my quest to exist in my natural state

Having to twist myself into a pretzel to please the un-pleasable was unsuccessful. 

So I stopped and focused on my real family. My chosen family. Those who care if I live, die, have food and rent money, and ask me to text them when I get home so they know I am safe. Those people. My people. I go hard for them. And they are various heights, weight-classes, political affiliations, complexions. because I learned that black lives matter. As well as Asian American Lives. And Migrant Lives. And Femme Lives. And LGBTQIA+ Lives. In essence, ALL LIVES MATTER INCLUDING BLACK LIVES. Because life is too hard in it’s natural state to be excluding people from We The People. Because the America I Still Believe in does not allow for any of this maga shit to stand

Because we need to be allies for each other against the real danger to this country. 

Internalized Systemic Racism and how it has been exploited to separate the working classes in a strict divide down socio-economic boundaries that are not easily crossable. This phenomenon is often called a glass ceiling. Minorities are particularly affected. But that doesn’t mean that all white people are to blame or responsible or immune. You see, I’ve read the Handmaid’s Tale. 

And while everyone is looking at the Scarlet Robe of the Handmaids and the Serene Teal of the Wives, no one looks at the EconoWives. Wife Trash, I suppose.

Much like the Titans’ football season. High school seniors in a recently-desegregated town. Sounds like the plot of a Disney movie or a Based On True Events TV movie

Gee... I can’t imagine why I related to this...

But I did and I learned from it. I learned that it takes effort to make a champion. And it is not accomplished alone. And while the odds may be ever against you

You have to decide what matters to you. And if that is football, you listen to your brothers on the team and keep your circle small.

And if that is closet-cases that fear for their safety when outed

And if that is a mother at 9 years old because that is how old you were when you realized you were more emotionally intelligent than your own pathetic excuse for a mother who is really a batman villain who you will later turn into if you don’t watch out for the stalker tendencies now and your fuckboi father who still cheats on your mother because this is a pity marriage that neither of them are ready to end even though everyone would be better off, especially your brother who is a precious little squish but being psychologically handicapped by the Stephen King Novel raising him and who is so much like you but you won’t know that for several years because you’re just a child and what do you know what normal is or is not supposed to feel like...

Then that’s just what the fuck it means.

My therapist asked me how I’m doing in 2020 with my depression and the isolation and what I think about the protests.

Like if the logic behind the protests was up for debate. Or if it was a political statement rather than a statement of human compassion and empathy to say that 

Black

Lives

Matter.

I guess she hasn’t seen Remember the Titans