#I know the lyrics deal with depression self harm and alcoholism

[in-dire-need]

OK, I’M SICK- Badflower

OK, I’M SICK was released in 2019 as upcoming band Badflower’s first full-length album. Every single track on the album has gotten its due share of the spotlight as the album climbed the billboard charts. A band that was once the underdog of the rock scene became a renowned name almost overnight. Frontman Josh Katz ties personal experiences into emotional stories to create the perfect blend of heart wrenching and riveting.

Opening track “x ANA x” serves as the perfect introduction to the chaotic world of Badflower. Its extremely powerful, vulgar, and aggravated sound welcomes all the chaos that is to come. Frontman Josh Katz had spoken out about his growing issues on tour before the creation of this album: he would have panic attacks every night on stage and could hardly stand to look at himself when off stage. His anxiety grew to such a high level that he was prescribed Xanax to calm down. “x ANA x” is written as a love letter to the prescription drug, which Katz had now developed a dependency for. He tells ‘Ana’ that even though she saves him from his demons, he can’t breathe with her around. He craves the feeling of being himself again, but he craves her more. He explains the awful life he lives without her, then the instrumentals slow down as an auditory example of the effect Xanax has on a person. He begs her not to let him lose control over himself, so he keeps her around as he destroys himself.

"The Jester” waited almost an entire year after its initial release to bask in its well-earned fame, when a well-deserved music video and an acoustic adaptation were released. Josh expresses that he feels like a source of comedic entertainment for others, as if he is only there as a jester. Everyone is just fucking him over, letting him run in circles for their own amusement. 

The next track is an extremely emotional one and if you deal with sensitivity toward subjects involving depression and/or suicide, I suggest you skip past this paragraph. “Ghost” was first released as a single before being added to the set of the album. Badflower’s raw performance on The Late Night Show With James Corden is what attracted so many initial listeners to them. The lyrics depict the narrative of someone who has attempted suicide by self-harm multiple times, but has never succeeded. He thinks about how he is a constant let-down to his friends and a disappointment to his family. He wants to give in and try again, but he is worried that he will fail once more and that his pain will continue. At the same time, he wants someone to save him from this endless loop of self-destruction that he has caught himself in. He finally makes up his mind and attempts to kill himself once more. As the blood leaves his body and his vision goes dark he regrets not telling his family that he loves them and not leaving a letter. He admits that the thought of regretting what he did is so fucked up and, at the very end of the song, his last attempt succeeds in taking his life out of his hands. In another interview, Josh disclosed that the true inspiration behind the gut-wrenching, graphic track was fortunately not from a personal experience. He explained that during tour his mental health had severely deteriorated, as mentioned in “x ANA x,” and he was considering harming himself. Instead, he wrote “Ghost” to keep him from making that mistake for himself. Not only did this intent work for him, but possibly millions of people in the same situation. “Ghost” appears as a gruesome depiction of humanity’s lowest point, but actually serves as a beacon of hope for the many that are unfortunate enough to be living that reality.

Now that that emotional hashing is through, let’s progress through the rest of the album. The next wave of songs depicts individual stories of different people in extremely different situations. “We’re In Love” presents the conflict of a man struggling with his sexual identity as he begins having a sexual relationship with another man. He has never been with a man before and struggles with accepting who he is. “Promise Me” is a sweet-sounding track that expresses putting your all into a relationship just for it to be torn away from you as you and your partner grow older. This song was inspired by Katz’s fear of growing old and losing his loved ones.  At the end of the trifecta, “Daddy” tells the story of a girl who was sexually abused by her alcoholic father from a very young age. The trauma permanently scars her, so when her father is hospitalized at an old age she smothers him to death as payment for all the years he stole from her.

“24″ returns the focus back to Katz’s own personal experiences in a sedated and calmed intermission. He reminisces about when he was younger and had a life ahead of him. He had hopes, dreams, and passion. In the present, he struggles with depression, anxiety, and drug addiction. This calls back to the continuing theme of Katz feeling worthless, as he states that his friends should let him die because he is too afraid to be alive. The next track was featured as a single, on the band’s EP Temper, and on OK, I’M SICK. Whereas “x ANA x” compared a drug to a person, “Heroin” does just the opposite. The song was originally released in 2014, five years before its release on the album. It is tied with “Ghost” for what is the band’s most emotionally raw performance. Josh knows that the girl he is with is wrong for him and is toxic, but he finds himself addicted to her. She treats him horribly, but he constantly finds himself going back to her. He knows that in the long-term he will escape his addiction to her, but cannot find it in himself at the time. It has become somewhat of an anthem for people that have been trapped in toxic or abusive relationships and has inspired many to stand up when found in that situation.

The calm atmosphere created by the last two tracks is destroyed as the hardcore, violent, and extremely offensive song written about people that are so afraid of change that they bring an entire nation down. Though many think that “Die” is directly aimed at Donald J. Trump, Katz has stated that it is not. Many of the lyrics point toward that conclusion, since many of the people that the song is truly aimed at are grouped in with Trump supporters. Keeping with the violent political scene, “Murder Games” solidifies Katz’s vehement stance on veganism and the consumption of meat. “Girlfriend” serves as yet another action-packed, graphic, and vulgar piece of insight into the real world. To put it simply, a man goes onto an online dating service to find love and becomes obsessed with an attractive woman’s profiles to the point where he imagines cutting her open and tasting her blood.

“Wide Eyes” continues the stories of people in horrible situations, telling the story of an altar boy who was sexually abused by the priests in his Church. He hid what happened to him from his loved ones in fear of being named a liar and being alienated from the Church. During the breakdown, he finally gives in and comes out about how the priests treated him. He accepts that he has become the shame of the Church and has been twisted into the bad guy. The album ends in the exact opposite place to where it started. “Cry” is a soft ballad about emotional pain that utilizes the use of metaphors and imagery to describe the action without actually using the word ‘cry’. 

OK, I’M SICK has not only brought the band to an amazing place, but has brought Josh Katz to a better mental state. Thousands of fans worldwide have been affected by the words contained in this masterpiece, and have even been given the will to keep going. That being said, it is very clear that there are two continuing themes throughout the album: Josh’s personal struggles and the struggles of other people in these horrible situations. This album covers an extremely broad scale, ranging from suicide to internet stalking to sexual abuse. This not only raises awareness to these issues that plague the world, but serve as a message to all people personally dealing with them. By telling the stories of these people, Badflower has given real-world survivors a safe space to open up about their struggles and the memories that follow them. This atmosphere is what brings listeners to cherish this band because Badflower is more than just a band and OK, I’M SICK is more than just an album. Badflower is a home. A haven. Somewhere that, despite all the world’s troubles and grievances and sickness, you can feel safe. When most bands tell a story, that’s all it is. A story. By connecting to this vulnerable and powerless side of humanity, OK, I’M SICK crosses the line from story to message. It is a message telling you to keep going and to cherish the good that you have. It is a message telling you that the situation you are in now is under your control and that things will get better. Nothing is permanent, and that is both a good thing and a bad thing. So relax. Go enjoy yourself.

“Okay, I’m sick! Not the kind of sick that lands you in the doctor, Not the kind that makes you weak and then heals you stronger, It's the kind of sick that turns your legs into spaghetti. It’s the kind of sick that makes your blood burn and your bones heavy. The kind of sick that makes an atheist pray for Jesus. The kind of sickness that turns your power into weakness. And I'm sick of being sick for this whole fucking place to witness. And I'm living a sick life that most people call privileged. And they're kinda right, but I’m still sicker than I can cope with.”

[liam-93-productions]

Note: This interview was made a month ago. So mind that while reading Liam’s answers. 

In the offices of Liam Payne's management company, just north of Soho in central London, there's a bottle of Bacardi inscribed with his name.

It was sent as a gift, after the singer immortalised the drink in his hit single Strip That Down. According to the lyrics, which he co-wrote with Ed Sheeran, he mixes it with Coke and "sips it lightly".

There's just one small snag, says Payne: "I don't think I've ever drunk Bacardi".

"When I was younger, I went straight in on the whisky," the star says. "I tend to pick my poison early, then I stick with it until it bores me."

In fact, shortly after Strip That Down was released in 2017, Payne gave up drinking altogether after his lifestyle became "a cause for concern".

"There were a couple of very dark years of me going through extreme peril with different mental health things," says the 26-year-old. "I just didn't know where I was going to end up."

'Reset button'

His drinking started to get out of hand while he was on tour with One Direction - the hotel mini-bar becoming a source of solace as he came down from the adrenalin high of playing for 80,000 screaming fans.

But even when the band went on hiatus, the habit continued. "It was very erratic behaviour on my part - I was partying too hard," says the star, who'd always been cast as the "sensible" member of 1D.

"It was a tough little time. My family were very worried."

Eventually, there came a point "where I realised I needed to hit the reset button and take a break," he says.

"I was coming off the back-end of a break-up, so I was dealing with all sorts of emotions that I hadn't dealt with in a long time because I was always covering them up - heartbreak, nerves, all sorts of things. I'd gotten too used to this rhythm of life; of using alcohol and different things to mask my feelings, or get me through. So I just needed to prove to myself that [drinking] wasn't the issue for me."

(...)

'Success gets the better of you'

(...)

Is that why it took two years to translate the success of Strip That Down into a debut album?

Actually, no. It was that song's phenomenal, and unexpected, performance (it's still the biggest-selling solo song by any of the former One Directioners) that threw Payne's plans into disarray.

"Strip That Down was such an amazing thing to happen - but sometimes success gets the better of you," he says.

"It took the best part of nine months to get to number one in America - and for that whole period, people wouldn't put any other songs on the radio. So it was a really weird time. We got stuck with one song for so long that it really prolonged the process of making the album".

It was especially strange for someone who was used to writing and recording entire albums in six weeks or less.

"Writing for One Direction was a different process because you knew what the kids wanted," says the star, who co-wrote about 50% of the band's last two albums.

"I love those songs - don't get me wrong - but I knew why I was writing them and I knew what I was writing them for."

Ultimately, Payne realised that getting more time to work on his debut album was "a luxury" and he allowed himself to "sit back and enjoy the process for once".

Recording sessions took place around the world, with A-listers like Ed Sheeran, Ryan Tedder and Charlie Puth. In total, the album credits a staggering 72 composers - and Payne likens the writing process to "speed dating".

"Sometimes it was difficult because I'd get one or two days in the studio with someone that I don't know and I didn't really want to share an awful lot of private stuff with them," he says. "It's almost like the first day of school every day."

His experiences in One Direction helped him be more assertive during sessions; and he turns out to be a studio geek, marvelling at piano sound on Selena Gomez's Lose You To Love Me, ("they've recorded it so close, you can hear the hammer hitting the strings") and the textural painting in Billie Eilish's Everything I Wanted ("when she sings 'I'm underwater'and they tweak her vocal so it sounds like she's disappearing, it's like Disneyland").

But as the album came together, he gravitated towards the albums he grew up with - Usher's 8701, Justin Timberlake's Justified and Chris Brown's self-titled debut - shaping his solo career around a sleek, efficient brand of R&B.

There's a thread of sadness running through the album - "Heart meet break, lips meet drink / Rock meet bottom, to the bottom I sink," he sings at one point - informed by his recurring bouts of depression, (...).

"I'm an absolute expert on heartbreak, it would seem," he says. "I think, for me, it was easier to write from a sad place, because the feelings were a little bit more raw. Happiness is hard to fathom, I think."

My sexuality is not your fetish'

But it's one of the album's more explicit songs that generated headlines - and for all the wrong reasons.

Both Ways is a late-night slow jam that details a sexual encounter with two women. "My girl, she like it both ways," Payne sings over a ringing trap beat. "She like the way it all taste / Couple more, we'll call it foreplay / No, no, I don't discriminate."

Within hours of its release last week, the track was being criticised for reinforcing harmful stereotypes that bisexual women's sexualities exist for the gratification of men - a fetishisation that can have violent, real-world consequences.

So far, Payne hasn't responded - but when we spoke last month, before the furore erupted, he said Both Ways was his "favourite song" on the record.

In his explanation, the lyrics are about being open to new experiences and different sexualities, as we emerge into a new "world of 'love is love' and people becoming much more understanding about the way love is - and rightly so".

Payne indicated that the song had originated with one of his co-writers, adding: "I don't know who in the studio had actually been in this situation, because I certainly haven't, but it was an interesting song to write."

Whether or not he addresses the criticism, the song is a blot on his copybook; and a rare mis-step for a singer who's always strived to be on the right side of public opinion.

For a self-confessed perfectionist, its bound to sting; but several times during our discussion, Payne says he's trying to learn from his mistakes, rather than punish himself for making them in the first place.

"My life is super-complicated," he says. "(...) and all sorts of different things kicking off, so I have to drill these messages into my head."

All things considered, would he prefer not to have auditioned for the X Factor all those years ago?

"I wouldn't change it," he says decisively. "I know it's where I'm supposed to be in the world now.

"I was very confused about fame when it all happened; and learning to be a person outside of your job was difficult. But now I feel like I get it. I'm a lucky boy."

Liam Payne's debut album, LP1, is out now on Capitol Records.

[toxoiddiamond]

T H E B A S I C S Given Name: Joel Porter Nycroft Nicknames: No nicknames, but he goes by the name Joel Winters professionally. Age: 40 Birthday: May 25th Zodiac Sign: Gemini Birthplace: Liverpool, England Current Location: He is constantly touring, but he has two homes– one just outside of London, and one in LA. His London-ish (as he calls it) home is where he spends his time off, and his LA home (which is a condo) is where he lives while the band works on recording new albums, since that is where their current label is based. Speaks: English and French (not fluently, but decently well). Dominant Hand: Ambidextrous Education: High school dropout, never bothered to get his GED or anything since he never really needed to. No college education, obviously. He is very smart though, and reasonably well-educated. Occupation: Lead singer and guitarist of internationally famous band No Rest for the Londoners, often shortened to simply The Londoners. Vehicle: It’s been a very long time since he’s had to drive himself anywhere– and that’s probably for the best, given the fact that he is under the influence more often than not. He has drivers that take him anywhere he needs to go, or, if the place is within walking distance, he’ll just walk over. Worldly Possessions: Though he’s quite wealthy, he doesn’t live too ostentatiously. He does tend to buy expensive/high quality things that will last him a long time, especially if it’s an instrument or anything to do with music, but he doesn’t spend excessively. He has some artwork on his walls that he splurged on, a shelf for his various awards (which he keeps hidden in a closet in his home studio because he feels weird having them out on display for all to see), nice (but not ridiculously expensive) clothes and bedding and such, furniture he had custom made by a local carpenter, etc. Then he has all his instruments and music equipment, which make up the majority of his possessions. Pet(s): He can barely take care of himself, so he has never even considered owning a pet, but he does like animals a lot. In the future, once he has his shit together, he would be totally open to having pets.

A P P E A R A N C E Height: 6’0” Hair: Dark with a few flecks of grey. Long-ish and usually a bit of a mess unless he’s going somewhere fancy, in which case he will slick it back. Facial Hair: He usually keeps his beard quite full. He trims it now and then, but it’s rare for him to actually shave it all off. Eye Colour: Brown Skin Tone: He doesn’t spend a lot of time outdoors, so he’s pasty. Clothing: For the most part, he looks pulled together– jeans and t-shirts, the occasional cardigan, peacoats in colder weather, classic black suits when he attends special events. He doesn’t exactly dress like a “rock star” and has never cared to try and be edgy or fit a certain persona. Distinguishing Marks: Faded track marks on both his arms from his past heroin abuse– he makes no effort to hide or cover them, since he figures everyone knows about his drug problem anyway. Face Claim: Jim Sturgess

H E A L T H Physical Health: It could be better. What with the fact that he’s constantly high or drunk (or both), his health is not great. He is constantly exhausted, often feels sick, has a weak immune system, and is pretty much just a mess. There’s been more than one occasion throughout his career when he’s passed out from sheer exhaustion, or had to reschedule shows due to illness (though he considers that a last resort). Physical Abilities/Limitations: Joel is an extremely talented musician. On top of the fact that he has a lovely singing voice, he can play guitar, piano, drums, and bass. He can’t read music at all, but has a knack for playing by ear, which drives the rest of his band absolutely nuts because anytime they try to ask Joel what key he’s singing/playing in, he just shrugs. Addictions: It would be faster to list the things he’s not addicted to. But mainly, he’s addicted to alcohol and cocaine. He used to have a serious heroin addiction, but hasn’t touched heroin since his late twenties. He also abuses Xanax, though he doesn’t realize that’s what he’s doing– he figures that since his doctor prescribed it, it’s fine to use it on a regular basis, but it’s really doing more harm than good. Allergies: None Mental Health: Terrible. Like, catastrophically bad. Joel is pretty much always on the verge of a mental breakdown– he has had several over the past few years, but has not gotten the help he so desperately needs in order to get his mental health back in order. He has gone to rehab many times, but wasn’t really given much help in the mental health department; he was just told he needed to relax and that once he was off the drugs he would feel much better. Turned out that wasn’t true, so he has always gone back to the drugs after leaving rehab. He is constantly considering suicide, and has attempted it twice; once when he was fourteen, and once when he was thirty-two. The second attempt was passed off as an accidental drug overdose to the media, though it was not accidental at all.

H I S T O R Y Summary: Joel was born and raised in Liverpool. His father left when he was just a baby, so Joel never knew him. Unfortunately, his mother was neglectful and uncaring– she was addicted to drugs and ran with a bad crowd, and her only real concern was where her next fix would come from. Joel was often left with neighbors or other family members for long periods of time before his mother would remember to come and get him. More than once, authorities were alerted to the fact that Joel’s mother was not taking care of him, but nothing ever really came of it. From an early age, Joel was interested in music, and began teaching himself to play guitar when he was ten years old. He always had a knack for playing by ear, so he never bothered to learn to read music. He spent a lot of time in a local music shop playing around with various instruments, and the staff let him hang around since he didn’t bother anyone and they kind of felt sorry for him. It was there that Joel taught himself to play both piano and bass. At the age of 14, Joel was pressured by some of his mom’s friends into getting high with them. Although Joel didn’t want to, he was made to feel that saying no wasn’t an option, so he did heroin with them. He doesn’t remember much of what happened that night– just that he went with them somewhere, Joel was absolutely scared out of his mind, and then he woke up the next morning on a park bench. From then on, Joel began to get high regularly, and did favors for his mom’s “friends,” mostly running drugs and bringing back money. It was around this time that he attempted suicide by purposely overdosing, but he woke up the next morning– still in his bedroom, intensely sick and much worse for wear, but alive. Joel dropped out of high school at 16– he would have failed his classes anyway since he’d been skipping school so much and his grades had plummeted. At 17, his friend Michael invited him to London– Michael was moving there and saw an opportunity to get Joel away from all the bad influences in his life. They moved in with Michael’s aunt for a while, and Joel took a job in a record shop to save up money. Eventually they struck out on their own and decided to put a band together, something they had talked about for years. After finding the perfect band members (something they still insist was fate), they began writing songs and recorded an EP in Joel and Michael’s basement. After playing a few local shows, word of mouth begin to spread, and before they knew it, they were approached by a manager offering them a contract with a major label. They took the deal, and the rest is history. Job History: His first “job” was as an errand boy for a shady group of drug dealers. He then worked in a record store for almost three years, and during that time, helped form the band and started playing the occasional show. Obviously that worked out because he is a very famous, successful musician now. Fondest Memories: His first rock concert when he was ten years old. Running away from Liverpool– he’ll never forget the feeling of freedom as they drove past the city limits. Performing in small venues and getting such an unexpectedly good response. And, of course, the first time they ever performed in a sold-out arena; the first time he heard the audience singing his own lyrics back at him, Joel almost cried. Worst Experiences: The majority of his childhood. And… a lot of his adulthood, actually.

C O M M U N I C A T I O N Speech Pace/Style: Though Joel can be very charming, he’s not exactly smooth. He’s kind of a dork, and most of his charm comes from the fact that people find it endearing how weird and awkward he can be. Depending on whatever drugs are in his system, he can either talk a mile a minute, or he might speak slowly, possibly slurring his words (though the slurring isn’t always noticeable with his accent). Accent: Very, very English with a distinctive Scouse accent. When he speaks, there is absolutely no doubt about where he’s from. Favorite Phrases or Words: He uses a lot of typical Scouse slang, such as “made up” for “happy,” or “cob on” for “bad mood.” His bandmates tease him about his weird accent/dialect all the time, though it’s all in good fun, of course. Usual Curse Words: Fuck, and any of its derivatives.

P E R S O N A L I T Y, M I N D S E T, A N D B E L I E F S Personality Type: ENFP-T Sense of Humor: Joel is charismatic and funny– he loves to make people laugh and can be quite a goofball when the mood strikes him. He often uses humor as a way to deflect or distract from his issues, so a lot of people who don’t know him well are surprised to find out that he’s as depressed as he is. When it comes to entertaining people, he will do just about anything to get a laugh, as long as it’s not offensive in some way– self-deprecating humor is his go-to, though. Habits: He tends to fidget a lot– wringing his hands, scratching at his arms, bouncing his leg when he’s sitting, especially during interviews or before a performance. Fears/Phobias: His biggest fear is ending up alone. He doesn’t even like being alone in his house, so the idea of being abandoned or rejected by the people he cares about is what really scares him. Loneliness is his worst enemy, and honestly, anytime when Joel is left alone with his own thoughts is just not going to end well. Strengths: Joel is a creative, kind, and thoughtful person who genuinely likes being around others and getting to know them. He loves doing nice things for people, making people laugh, and is charismatic as hell. People seem to naturally flock to him and enjoy his company– he’s kind of the life of the party. Joel always does his best to be kind to his fans as well, especially kids, and would never deny anyone a picture or autograph, even if he secretly would rather be doing anything else. Flaws: As lovely as Joel can be, when he’s deep under the influence of drugs, it’s like he’s a completely different person. Selfish, combative, and a chronic liar. When he starts spiralling into depression, it’s impossible for him to pull himself out of that tailspin, and that is how he’s ended up in this vicious cycle of getting depressed, doing drugs, getting more depressed, drinking the pain away, getting even more depressed, etc, etc. Hopes/Desires: He really, really wants to get clean and sober, but doesn’t know if it’s really possible for him. He hates that he’s so reliant on drugs and alcohol to even get through the day, but he’s felt so awful and depressed (more than usual) every time he’s gotten clean that he doesn’t see how he can live like that. Self-Esteem: It could not possibly be any lower. Joel considers himself to be a burden on everyone he knows and pretty much thinks he’s a waste of space. It would only take the tiniest nudge for him to attempt suicide (again). Religion: He doesn’t believe in any kind of god or higher power. In fact, he really hopes there isn’t any such thing, because he’s pretty sure that if there is a god or any kind of afterlife, he won’t end up going anywhere pleasant when he dies.

R A N D O M Sleeping Position: Curled up in a ball on his side. Boxers or Briefs?: Boxers Day or Night?: He doesn’t have a preference– it really just depends on whether he has something to do or not. Top or Bottom?: He can go either way. Partying or Relaxing?: Usually partying, unless he has someone to relax with.

R E L A T I O N S H I P S Closest Friend: He is close to all of his bandmates: Michael (Joe Anderson), Dawn (Sofia Boutella), Holly (Devon Aoki), and their newest/youngest bandmate who replaced their former rhythm guitarist, Ryan (Justin Nozuka). Out of all of them, he is definitely closest with Michael since they grew up together. Relationship History: Not a lot of long-term relationships. He briefly dated Dawn back when they first met, before the band blew up, but they quickly decided they weren’t compatible. He has dated around a bit, some men and some women, mostly people who are also in the public eye (actors, models, musicians, etc), but none of those relationships lasted longer than a few months. Sexual Partners: A lot. He was definitely promiscuous when he was younger, lots of flings and one-night stands. As he got older, he lost interest in having a new partner every night and started getting into more actual relationships, though none of them lasted longer than a year. Thoughts About Sex: He enjoys it. He especially enjoys it when his partner doesn’t leave immediately afterward. Joel really likes to cuddle after sex, so it’s always disappointing to him when it turns out his partner isn’t interested in cuddling.

P A R E N T S Name(s): Donna Nycroft Age(s): She died at the age of 57 Social Standing: Not good. She was widely known to be an addict, and ran with a shady crowd to help fuel her addiction. Occupation(s): Drug dealer, occasionally traded sex for drugs or money, occasionally took part-time jobs if she was really desperate, though she could never hold down a legitimate job for very long. Religion: Nope. Quality of Relationship With His Children: Horrible. She never cared much for Joel, and only kept him because she got child support money from his father every month. She paid as little attention to him as possible and didn’t care at all what he did or where he went. When he first got famous, she tried to sell her “story” to a bunch of tabloids and started trashing him in the media, but the drama died down quickly because Joel refused to address anything she said and pretended he didn’t know who she was. Joel was honestly not sad at all when he got the news about her death. He pretty much said “oh… okay” and moved on immediately. Living/Deceased: Dead

D A I L Y L I F E Living Arrangements: Joel has two homes– one moderately large home on the outskirts of London, and a condo in LA. His London home is a bit secluded and private, and is where he likes to go during his off times, as he can escape the press for the most part. His band mates will often come and stay with him as well, partly because they don’t want him to be alone, and partly because they all have a great time together, especially when there’s not the pressure of recording or a tour. His LA home is where he lives while they work on recording, since their label is based in LA. The house in London is fairly large, but not a mansion by any means– it has four bedrooms, one of which Joel has converted into a music studio where he can practice, write songs, mess around with instruments, etc. Two bedrooms are currently guest rooms, and then there is the master bedroom, of course. The place is decorated with custom furniture Joel had designed and made by a local carpenter, and it is all very nice-looking and comfortable. His condo is decorated in a very minimalist, functional way, which suits Joel just fine. Lots of open space and windows, furniture with clean, modern lines, a few splashes of color here and there, and not much else.

[jvnisms-blog]

♡♡          hey babes !! it’s ya gal charmi at it again, the mun of azami, with yet another chaotic child on my hands. meet jung woojin and find out more about him below the cut & hit me up for plots or like this and i will slide into your messages !! before you read on please be aware of these triggers: tw: eating disorder mention, tw: depression mention, tw: anxiety mention, tw: self harm mention, tw: parental death mention, tw: suicide mention, tw: domestic abuse mention. all of these are brief and very vague however i want y’all to be safe !! without further ado: 

BACKSTORY: 

was in and out of the adoption system most of his life and went to many toxic homes and families that were neglectful or abusive because he wasn't the perfect child they had dreamed of. at first thought he was never going to be fostered at all because he wasn't the ideal age or considered young enough really for many family setups to want him. 

was separated from his brother in the adoption system and has never fully got over it since they grew up closer than ever due to their circumstances and were more like twins. strongly believing for a long time they were the only ones who could look out for each other and make the miserable upbringing worth fighting through. he still believes he's the only one who can really protect his brother and tears himself apart thinking of how he might have suffered without him, if it was the same way he did. 

the father died of alcohol issues and early set heart failure. the mother decided in her grief and mourning she could not cope with the boys and got rid of them before taking her own life. both parents were fairly young when they had the boys, too young really. 

the boy grew up believing he was a monster and that he was far too violent for loving or to be loved. that he only brought destruction and damage everywhere he went. simply put he was too rough around the edges. 

was taught to believe that if he simply kept quiet and out of the way maybe his foster parents would love him more and he could make his life there more bearable.

his school and teachers did nearly find out but he always lied and covered it up well, in fact lying became increasingly easy because he didn't believe there was anything better waiting for him anyway, he did not want to be saved and a part of him still wanted to pray for the best in his foster parents, a sudden change. a part of him thought he was strong enough to deal with their violence bestowed upon him now. 

of course though this made him a very angry kid with a lot of secrets and a lot of pain he had to keep buried, a lot of the time he became too agressive with his friends and people who attempted to help him because it was all he knew, agressive spat out hurtful words and rash actions that are just a touch too brutal. a shove, words spat in faces. he's trying to be better though, he really is. he doesn't want to hurt or break things anymore. that's all. 

he's beaten up a lot, he tends to brush it off with a 'it happens' or 'it wasn't a big deal' when his ribs end up broken and he's taping them up himself etc.

some nervous dispositions that have stuck are things such as shaking a lot, folding arms in on himself and making himself appear smaller, biting his nails down over excessively.

abandoned foster child who fell prey to the system and came out worse for it because of it all is basically his whole niche. 

a lot of things become an argument even when he doesn't intend it, apologies can come out more like taunting. he can be sharp tongued and ugly with his words. 

in turn he's bad at accepting apologies even when he knows deep down things are his own fault. he struggles to find words that don't burn and hurt and take. he just doesn't know how to do comfort, he thinks he has the idea sometimes but he is scared to reach out and give the wrong touch, end up hurting more instead. 

he has an issue with touching in general. he doesn't let himself do it much, doesn't bestow it on others. he knows what he can be capable of how he can't control his own strength and he is terrified of himself.* biggest promise to himself is that he never hurts anyone even in the smallest way even when its justified in an emotional breakdown or when he is trying to keep himself from being abandoned once again. he won't let himself. 

' you know what they say about monsters. you know what happens to the people who love them. are you going to do that?' even if no one else is afraid of him. he is afraid of himself.

' your hands don't know how to be gentle, think about the last beautiful thing that shattered in your palms. the fresh rosebuds crumbling between your fingers like a bruise. you wolf boy, you war machine. you wouldn't know how to hold something magic and not destroy it...' 

is littered in bruises and scars and burn marks. 

CURRENT LIFE: 

since moving to daegu he has slowly made progress, healed, gotten better. he has worked away at himself until he made himself more of a tragic masterpiece than a messy splash of unfinished painting and blurry mottled colours. 

he lives with four friends, close friends who have been with him through everything and taught him how to healthily feel not only happiness and love but also let go of and exhale all of that pain and anger and violence he could not control. that was not his own but haunted him. aching to be placed somewhere else than inside his body which was too small to feel such hurt and heartbreak.

he got therapy after many tries with many therapists who botched up he eventually found one who worked and helped him look for new hobbies which would channel and turn his pessimistic and negative energy and burdens into something more beautiful or better managed. he slowly learned to trust himself at least a little bit more once again. she also helped him on a journey of distance without isolation so he could understand he would not do the harm he always imagined he was the root of. 

when he leaves his family, it is in the middle of the night with packed bags and not much else to his name. he thinks it'll be easier on everyone that way, no letters or texts or calls. in fact he breaks his phone and switches it out for a cheap new one when he's ready to be contacted once again. there are no goodbyes.

he spends four years just crashing on his friend's floor of their apartment who are a couple who practically raise him and take him under their wing and simply accept him in all his flawed and closed off excellence, simply listening and accepting and providing a safe haven without expectations of any kind. 

he works on painting, writing, gardening anything that will teach him how to love and nurture better than he did before. to see beauty and nourish it instead of destroy it or twist it. he learns piano finding romance in the music. 

he got over his eating disorder and began cooking, become a rather skilled chef with his friends help and had more regular meals especially under his guidance when he couldn't cook then the other would do it for him. feeding him steadily every day to build his appetite back up again. 

he took more care to exercise and keep his body and health much more good, nothing amazing but finally the average. he also got a couple jobs all that would help him with communication and learning new talents or discovering his own further.

slowly he stopped flinching every time someone tried to touch or did touch him. small touches from his friends ease him along, an arm slung around his shoulders, a hand in his own, a gentle hug. he finds a makeshift home and love and happiness where everyone isn't trying overly hard to find a way to nurse it into him.

eventually recently he has came to a point where he can cancel his therapy sessions comfortably and flush those pills to help with that anxiety and unbearable sadness. somehow he learns how to breathe again all by himself without someone else coaching him through it all.

EXTRA: 

woojin is gay so romance plots are only applicable to other male muses however in the past before he knew of his sexuality he could’ve had an ex girlfriend or two!

potential romance plot inspiration heavily inspired by the poem yes & no by natalie wee. there’s a lot of flexibility on this one in terms of timeframing so just hit me up to discuss it more after reading the poem if you’re interested !!

the usual plots are of course up for grabs: childhood best friend, current best friend, ex’s, first love, friends he met through therapy, friends he met in the foster system, confidant, coffee fix partner, fake dating, study partner ( he’s studying music ofc and he specializes in production ), someone he writes lyrics for, someone he writes lyrics with or produces with, someone who makes him realize how amazing his lyrics actually are and how much potential lies within that talent as a career goal, his muse, i imagine he works a part time job as a waiter so do with that what u will maybe they can be work buddies?, also does babysitting every now and then for extra cash, etc. 

[empatheticfoxwritings]

Not in That Way

Pairing: Stan Marsh and Kyle Broflovski 

Show: South Park 

Summary:

Over the years, Kyle never really changed in terms of personality.

He was always there for Stan when he needed him the most. Always a source of comfort and support. They were super best friends until the end of time. Which is why it's so hard to bear that Kyle will never love Stan back. Because you see, Kyle is straight and with every girl he kisses, Stan gets closer to his breaking point.

Possible Trigger Warnings: Self-hatred, alcohol abuse, suicidal thoughts, implied self-harm, some swearing

A/N: Was a little nervous to post this since I have other fics unrelated to this one I’m working on but I’m quite proud of this one. So, I hope you enjoy!

Over the years, Kyle never really changed in terms of personality.

He was always that reliable, care-too-much kid. Always the one to hold study groups and tutor on the weekends to those who struggled. He was caring, compassionate, and just an overall good person. And yet, despite his kind disposition, he had a temper that could rival anyone. Call him a name and you’d be kissing concrete before you could even blink.

He had always been that way and he still is.

The only thing that really changed about Kyle was his look. His ushanka stayed on him most of the time but he, occasionally, takes it off. The day Kyle Broflovski took his hat off, all eyes were on his tamed curly locks. The Jewfro was long dead and Kyle radiated a new confidence that no one had ever seen. His wardrobe remained the same which consisted of polos, t-shirts, odd colored jeans, and his weird fixation with orange cardigans. Stan never understood it considering orange wasn’t even Kyle’s favorite color. Nevertheless, after Kyle’s “transformation” all the girls flocked to him. Oh, that’s another change.

Kyle was a total ladies man and he enjoyed it.

Kyle had told Stan often that he hated girls and never wanted to kiss them. Sure, that was when they were young but even in freshman and sophomore year of high school, Kyle barely spoke to girls. Never went to dances, never went out on dates, never even kissed a girl. Then he completely changed. Stan caught Kyle and Wendy making out in the men’s bathroom one day during junior year and he had to control the urge to vomit everywhere. Kyle was initially embarrassed but after being caught many many times by Stan, he lost whatever filter he had. Kyle would have girls over when it was just supposed to be bro time and Stan would leave an hour in to escape the nastiness that was straight Kyle. Regular Kyle was sometimes hard to deal with but straight, horny Kyle was a whole other ballgame.

What even brought on this sudden change in his super best friend?

I guess you could say it was a change for a change. Stan had changed too but his felt more soul-crushing. It all started with the depression, the cynicism, and the anxiety. It all came so suddenly and his parent’s inevitable divorce didn’t help. Nothing helped and everything was complete shit. To top it all off, Kyle decided he had enough of Stan’s bullshit. He told him that he couldn’t do this anymore, being around him was too emotionally draining. Then he turned his back on him. So, he did the only thing that made life bearable, he drank.

At the time, Stan was pissed and he still kind of is but, he understood where Kyle was coming from. Stan was being an absolute asshole and Kyle didn’t deserve that shit. After that day, Stan spent most of his nights drowning himself in alcohol. It wasn’t hard considering how Randy bought more beer than groceries most of the time.

All those nights, Stan wondered how everything went wrong. His friends, his family, his whole life was just gone. What was the point of going on when nothing makes you happy anymore? He was a such a fool for even thinking he could make something of himself. Everything he touched fell apart. What was the goddamn point of anything?

His self-deprecating thoughts made him drink more. Everything got hazy those nights. He would wake up with no recollection of what he did the previous night. He used to check his body in the morning for any damage but once he started finding cut marks he stopped. He didn’t want the reality of the situation to sink in. It would just give him another reason to hate himself.

One of the things he did amidst his drunken deeds, apparently, was text people. After a noticeable line was cut in his close friendships, he never hung out with anyone. Kenny would come over once a month for booze and that was all the contact he had. However, out of nowhere, people started approaching him about things he had texted to them. If he had any dignity left, he might have felt embarrassed. He would simply give a monotone apology and move on. This all continued for some time until one night.

One night, he got completely hammered but despite the alcohol, he remembers exactly what happened.

He was nursing a bottle of Jack Daniels and texting what he thought would be his last words. He sent the message and threw his phone across his room. A ringtone came on immediately but he didn’t check it. What was the point? He could barely remember what it said. Something about dying or hating himself probably. He took another long drink of the Jack Daniels. Everything was white noise.

“I could just leave.” He speaks out loud. “Life would move on.”

The spoken words strike him. Hot tears pour down his face as he looks out his window. He rarely cries but tonight the tears come without restraint. Sobs ripped through him as he curled into himself. It felt like the walls were caving in on him. He yanked at his greasy hair and writhed against his sheets. Some part of him hoped that someone would hear his cries. However, after some time, no one came. That fact began to soothe him and his cries turned into whimpers. The silence brought a sense of calm that made him bring the bottle to his lips again.

After every breakdown, Stan was left with the lonely silence he became accustomed to.

The silence was loudly interrupted by a soft knocking at his door. Shit, is mom home? He stayed quiet in hopes that whoever it was would go away, come in, he wasn’t sure what he wanted. He hiccuped softly and pressed himself against the corner of the wall.

“Hey,” The voice spoke softly with another knock. “I know you’re in there, Stan.”

He knew that voice. Or did he? “I’m fine, ma.” He slurred.

The door opened and Stan pulled the covers over himself. The voice sighed harshly. After a moment, he felt the bed dip and the covers were yanked off of him.

“Hey,” Stan whined. His face changed when he realized who the person was. “Oh, Kyle.”

“Hey, Stan.” Kyle bit his lip and furrowed his eyebrows. He wore that face. That face that Kyle reserved just for him. Was it pity or concern? He didn’t give a fuck, he just didn’t want to see it right now.

“Don’t give me that face.” He hiccuped and went to take another drink.

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” Kyle placed his hand on the bottle.

“Who cares?” Stan slurred and took another long drink.

He took a second to look at Kyle. He wasn’t wearing his hat which was very un-Kyle. Things were starting to blur but he remembers seeing checkered pants and a grey shirt. Kyle was wearing his pajamas. Why was he even here?

“Why you here?” Stan grunted.

A pause. “You texted me.” Oh.

Stan stared at him for a few moments. “I don’t need a lecture mom!” He shouted and took another drink, as if indignant. He frowned when he realized that the bottle was lighter now.

Kyle sighed again and ran a hand through his curls. “I’m not here to lecture you…. Look, I’ve been really shitty lately. I’ve been...really selfish…I miss you, Stan. I’m worried about you.”

“Why?” Stan spat. “I don’t deserve anything. I’m worthless-”

“No, you’re not!” Kyle’s voice cracked from the sudden volume of his voice. “You’re my best friend, asshole! I love you and I can’t stand to see you do this to yourself. Don’t think I haven’t been keeping an eye on you! I thought if I stepped aside...it would help you. It was dumb, I was dumb.”

Kyle reached forward and snatched the bottle from Stan’s grip. He placed his other hand firmly on Stan’s shoulder. His eyes bore into Stan’s. Stan couldn’t figure out the intense almost conflicted expression the redhead held. He remembers the fire in those green eyes. The softness of that fire made him want to lock himself away and write Emo poems about those emerald eyes. Stan’s stomach flip-flopped at the tight feeling in his chest. Why was Kyle looking at him like that?

“I really care about you, Stanley,” Kyle whispered.

Those words broke him. Stan hiccuped a sob and threw himself into the other’s arms. Everything poured out of him. The way Kyle gripped him back and hushed him made him break down more. Love, comfort, support. That’s all he really needed. Nothing could be fixed overnight but, being in Kyle’s arms was a start. Stan’s sobs faded to whimpers and his body shook from the exhaustion. Kyle helped lower him from his shoulders so that Stan could lay his head in Kyle’s lap.

Stan couldn’t look Kyle in the eyes, the sobbing having sobered him up. Still, Kyle brushed his bangs back in such an intimate way. He took a chance to look at Kyle’s face. Their eyes locked and Kyle smiled softly and Stan felt his cheeks grow warm. He hiccuped again and looked away. He didn’t move yet, he didn’t know what would happen if he broke the silence. Luckily, he didn’t have to because Kyle started to hum.

“Oh, Florida please be still tonight. Don’t disturb this love of mine. Look how she’s so serene. You gotta help me out,” Kyle sang quietly and Stan felt a lump in his throat. “And count the stars to form the lines and find the words we’ll sing in time. I wanna keep her dreaming. It’s my one wish. I won’t forget this.”

Stan looked up at his best friend and whispered the next few lyrics. “I’m outdated, overrated. Morning seems so far away.” Kyle grinned brightly, his nose crinkling. Stan sighed heavily. God, since when was Kyle so goddamn beautiful?

“So I'll sing a melody and hope to God she's listening. Sleeping softly while I sing. And I'll be your memories.” The two sang softly together. “Your lullaby for all the times, hoping that my voice could get it right.”

“Kyle…” Stan’s voice shook. Everything in him was screaming to kiss him. Grab his best friend and kiss him senseless. Surely it was the alcohol? But no, oh god no. Had he always felt this way? Stan gazed at the redhead who was practically beaming like the damn sun at him. What the fuck is wrong with me? Overwhelmed by these feelings, he simply stared back and tried not to puke.

“Stan,” Kyle laughed and shook his head. “I’ll always be here as your friend, okay? Super best friends. I swear this time I mean it.”

“I-I,” Stan whimpered. He took Kyle’s hand and laced their fingers together. “I’m sorry for everything. I’ll always be here too. Super best friends…..I swear this time I mean it.”

Kyle giggled. He giggled and squeezed Stan’s hand. “Let’s get you cleaned up and into bed, stupid.”

Kyle helped him into the bathroom and sat him down on the stool. He gently rolled up Stan's sleeves and rubbed the fading marks along his arms. He sighed and grabbed the first aid kit. He cleaned each mark gently despite the fact they were already healing. As Kyle helped him clean his face and brush his teeth, Stan hummed quietly to himself. You could crush me. Please don’t crush me.

The following morning after he and Kyle reconciled was interesting. First of all, he woke up and nearly broke his leg in his haste to vomit in the bathroom. He and Kyle had apparently fallen asleep in the same bed and Stan was stuck between him and the wall. The sudden lurch of his stomach woke him up and he nearly crushed Kyle in his rush to get out of bed. He remembers a loud thunk faintly. Okay, so maybe he knocked Kyle off the bed but it was a matter of life or death.

In hindsight, Jack Daniels was a mistake. The whiskey never settled well in his stomach and it made his throat burn. And he had consumed almost a whole bottle of it which was just great. After all the contents of his stomach were removed, he laid his head against the porcelain with a groan.

“Feel better now?” Stan gave a gurgling moan and Kyle chuckled. “Here, drink some water. I’ll be back in a bit.”

“Where ya going?” Stan mumbled. Please, don’t go.

“I’m going to make breakfast, dude. Now drink your water and shut up.” Stan gagged at the idea of food. Kyle laughed. “Hush, It’s a hangover cure and I’m hungry.”

Stan drank the cup of water and leaned his head against the wall. Most hangovers were spent on the floor of the bathroom or in the shower dissociating. It was odd to have someone take care of him instead. Odd but not bad. Also unlike most hangovers, he remembered a majority of the previous night. Kyle’s apology, Kyle’s voice, the way Kyle looked at him as if he was the most important thing in the world. He remembered every detail vividly. Even the white panic he felt when he wanted to kiss him.

Oh, sweet Jesus.

His cheeks heated at the thought. He pulled himself up and began to wash his face. The cold water was welcoming but his thoughts still swarmed. Why did he want to kiss Kyle? Kyle was his best friend and he was convinced he hated him until last night. Why now? Maybe, it was the alcohol. Maybe he just wanted to kiss him. Yeah, that must be it. It was just an urge to kiss him and that’s it. He was starved of affection clearly.

Stan gave a large exhale and frowned at his reflection. He needed to shower right now. He sniffed his clothes and realized that those had to go too. He went to grab some cleaner clothes and took a fast shower. Feeling sufficiently better, he went down to see if Kyle was in the kitchen. Kyle was leaning against the counter scrolling through his phone. He looked up when Stan walked in.

“I made eggs and toast. You should try eating a little at least.”

“Thanks, mom.” Stan sat and grabbed a piece of toast and took a tentative bite. He was pleased to not feel nausea creep up again.

“Shut up.” They ate in silence for a bit. Kyle was the first to break it. “So, do you remember anything about last night?”

“Vaguely.” He lied.

“Hmm,” Kyle chewed on his egg and seemed to choose his next few words carefully. “Do you remember texting me?”

“Oh,” Stan tried to recall, but that was one thing he blocked out. “I really don’t. How stupid was it?”

Kyle was silent for a while so, Stan looked up at him. Kyle was chewing his lip with a concerned look on his face. His arms were crossed almost defensively against his chest. Stan, suddenly, really didn’t want to know what he said.

“It was hard to completely make out but you said you missed me. You said that ever since we fought you haven't forgiven yourself and that life is miserable. You said that you...you had nothing to live for anymore and that if you just...offed yourself everyone would be happy.”

“I-” Stan’s breath hitched. “I’m so sorry you had to see that.”

“Why?”

“W-Why? Why what?”

“Why do you think everyone would be happy if you killed yourself?” Kyle finally made eye contact with him. His eyes burned and Stan wanted to hide but he was frozen in place.

“I-I just...I screw everything up. I drove away everyone who ever cared about me. I’m such a burden. No one wants to be around a mess like me. I’m just worthless-”

“Stop!” Kyle shouted causing Stan to jump. “You are not! Don’t just say that!” Kyle’s face reddened and he took a moment to rub his eyes. Was he crying?

“Kyle?”

“You’re not worthless. You’re my b-best friend, Stan. I-” Kyle sniffed and tried to compose himself again. “I care about you. I would care if you...you know. I would! You know how fucking scary it is to get a text like that in the middle of the night? I know you’ve been struggling, okay? I was watching you at school. I saw the c-cuts on your arms and how exhausted you always looked. I knew and I just...I was too much of a pussy to say anything.”

“I-,” Stan spoke shakily as tears started to slide down his cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Kyle.”

A loud silence passed between the two of them. They both cried openly now, but both were too scared to move. A string had been stretched taut and one wrong move could cut it indefinitely.

“Left turn,” Stan whispered.

“What?” Kyle questioned exasperatedly.

“When we fought you told me that sometimes you need to make a left turn.”

“Stan, that wasn’t-”

“No, you were right. I don’t...I don’t want to keep doing this. I wanna be happy dammit!” Stan banged his fist on the counter. “I want to be better but I...I can’t do this alone. I hate to be selfish...God, I hate it so much but I need you.”

Stan looked down at his feet and braced for the worst. Opening up was never easy for him. He preferred to look at everything with a sense of apathy. Kyle called it nihilism but really he was just scared. Scared to face the shithole he dug himself into. Sometimes you just need to make a left turn.

He felt an arm wrap around his shoulders and looked up. Kyle was smiling. That small smile he rarely gave. The one where his head tilted slightly and his eyes squinted just so. He took Stan’s breath away. Even the tear tracks down his cheeks were beautiful. He was close enough for Stan to see the light freckles on his face.

“Would it make you feel better if I told you I needed you too? Cause I do.” He pulled Stan into a hug that the other boy welcomed. “We’ll get through this together.”

Stan was slightly taller than Kyle so he pressed his nose into his hair. He held onto him tightly and quietly came to a realization. These feelings he had, it wasn’t just about a kiss. It was more than that. He needed this boy, more than anything else in this world. There he is, the boy I love. There you are, I’ve been looking for you forever.

Ever since that night, their friendship went back to normal. No not normal, it was stronger. Stan slowly weaned off drinking frequently and, despite his many protests, was seeing a therapist. A shift happened in South Park, the dynamic duo was back. The world righted itself and everyone gave a sigh of relief. Everyone, except Stan Marsh. Sure, he had his best friend back and he was in a healthy mind space now but there was a huge problem.

He is absolutely in love with Kyle and he has no idea what to do about it.

Kyle was straight, or at least that’s what he gathered from the boy’s track record of girlfriends. After that night, the two were inseparable but during junior year, Kyle started dating. God, it made Stan feel physically sick to see him with other people. It was worse than seeing Shelly dating. At least with Shelly, he could just ignore her boyfriends and move on. He couldn’t do that with Kyle. Cause each time Kyle had his arm around another girl a part of Stan chipped away.

At first, he tried to ignore this new development in Kyle. So he wanted to date? That’s fine. He even selfishly hoped that Kyle would find that he doesn’t like girls. It was a hopeful dream at best because Kyle never stopped dating. The time he spent hanging with his best friend lessened and Stan’s love for him only grew the longer they were apart.

Yet, as their senior year went by he never complained about this to Kyle. Partly because he was afraid of blowing his cover but also because he didn’t want him to worry. Kyle would drop anything for Stan and while it was another reason to love him, he couldn’t do that to him. The redhead may have been making out with a lot of chicks, but he was also putting everything into his studies. Kyle never said what he wanted to do but he always said that he wanted to do something important. Whether it was teaching, politics, or being a goddamn superhero. It didn’t matter to Stan because he knew that he could do it. If anyone could get out of South Park and make something out of himself it was Kyle. So, as finals approached, Kyle became more tense and angry. Stan knew it was best to stay out of his way. However, if he happened to pay Ike to give Kyle care packages every so often then that was just that.

So, it was a surprise to Stan when on the night before their last day of exams, Kyle asked him to hang out.

“Dude, let’s go sit on the billboard at sunset, like old times.”

“The Tweak Bros one?” Stan smiled. “Let’s do it. You gonna supply the shitty teriyaki?”

“Duh.” Kyle punched his shoulder lightly.

“Broflovski!” Clyde Donovan shouted and smacked Kyle on the back. “Heard you got lucky with Heidi last Friday. You dog!”

“Shut the fuck up Clyde.” Kyle blushed and Stan stiffened. “You don’t know shit.”

“Sure,” Clyde drawled. “The look on your face just proves it. Glad to know you found someone. Now the rest of us stand a chance right, Stanley?”

Stan merely grunted. Sure, Clyde, that’s absolutely what he wanted. Stan knew Kyle had made out with practically every girl. He just wasn’t expecting to hear that he fooled around with some. He tried to not picture it. Kyle kissing someone else. Kyle moaning and having sex with someone else. Kyle loving someone else. It didn’t work.

Bile burned his throat and he had to leave. He slammed his locker shut and walked away without a word. He hears Kyle shout for him but he ignores it. He needed to get away, he needed to go home. He doesn’t remember the drive home in his beat-up Impala. He doesn’t remember throwing up everything in his stomach. He doesn’t remember grabbing the tequila and climbing to the top of the Tweek Bros billboard. The only thing he remembers is the dull ache in his chest.

He takes a sip of the tequila, it burns his throat making him gag. Guess alcohol lost its touch as well. He sets it aside and sighs. He rubs his chest and lets his feet dangle off the edge. He remembers reading about this disease on the internet. What was it, Hanahaki disease? Something like that. A disease of unrequited love. A beautiful, tragic disease. The details escape him but when he compares the color of the sunset to Kyle’s curls he knows that he has it. He rests his arms on the railing in front of him.

Stan has to admit it. He had to say it to someone, anyone. Maybe if he could get the words out he could move on. Kyle and he were best friends and he wanted to keep that above all. Kyle loved him sure, but not in the way he yearned for.

He loves you but, not in that way.

Stan rubs the tears away before they fall. He had to tell him. He hates to admit it and he knows the truth will hurt more than anything else. It’s such a shame too considering Kyle always says “I really care about you”. Loads of people cared about him. He’d been through that with his therapist. His mother, his father, his friends, Kyle. They all did but caring for and loving are different. You can’t make your heart feel something it won’t.

He had to tell him.

“Hey,” Stan looked down to see the boy that was consuming his thoughts. “Got room up there for two?”

He was wearing his green ushanka. He wore an orange sweater with grey joggers and his beat-up black Converse. In his hand, he held a plastic bag from City Wok. A brown satchel hung off his shoulder and he smiled sheepishly. In the warm glow of the sunset, you could see the freckles dance across his cheeks. Stan never wanted him more.

“Yeah, come on up.”

Kyle managed to climb up the latter and keep his belongings intact. He was always talented in little ways. God, Stan was such a fool for him. He felt like a damn chick in one of those sitcoms. Everything Kyle did was perfect and it made him feel soft inside.

“Here, I got you your usual if you’re hungry.” He handed the styrofoam container over and Stan wished he could kiss him in thanks. He simply took the container with a murmured thanks. “Mind if I put on some music?” Stan shook his head and Kyle pulled out his phone.

Forever The Sickest Kids began to play and Stan relaxed against the billboard. He quietly thanked Kyle for picking one of his own playlists. They were mainly depressing and emo but it was what he needed right now. They ate in silence for some time with the soft music coming from Kyle’s phone.

“You doing okay?” Kyle almost whispered.

“Yeah, I’m alright.”

“I was worried when you left earlier.”

“I’m sorry,” And he really was. “I just wasn’t feeling well.”

“You wouldn’t answer my texts.” Kyle pressed.

“I-I told you I’m fine. I just needed some air.”

“If you are fine then why is there a bottle of booze up here?”

Well damn, he got him there. “I-I just….I need...I need to tell you something.” Well, it was now or never.

“I love you, Kyle.”

“Wha-” Kyle cocked his head. “I love you too, man. Now, what's wrong?”

“That’s just it Kyle. I’m in love with you. I have been for some time.”

Kyle sucked in a breath and Stan swore he saw his posture stiffen. He wrapped his arms around his frame and Stan felt tears well in his eyes. He had to do damage control fast before he went home and cried to his mom just like in every shitty romcom he’d seen.

“Look I’ve never wanted to tell you this because deep down I know what you’ll say.”

“Stan…”

“You’d say I love you dude but not in that way.” Stan chuckled bitterly. “Yet, here I am. My feelings are out in the open. I’ve loved you since we were kids. I didn’t realize until that night you saved me but….they were there. Always. I want you and I need you, Kyle.”

An uncomfortable silence passed. Stan decided to cut the tension. “I feel like I needed to tell you even if I can’t bare what happens next. I can’t sit by if you decide to move after graduation without telling you how much you mean to me. And I guess that’s why I was so sick to hear that you slept with someone...I guess I had just hoped somehow...that would be me. Stupid, right?” Stan sniffled and rubbed his face again.

“Stan...We...We’ve never been like that.” Kyle’s voice shook.

“Yeah well,” Stan glared at the ground. The sorrow being replaced by sheer bitterness. “I’ve tried to stop it but I can’t...I guess telling you is my way of trying to get over this. I don’t want to lose you.” Stan tried to fight the tears that were already streaming down his face.

The soft sounds of One Day at a Time fill the silence. Kyle, stiff and closed off, and Stan, crying quietly to himself. Stan sighs shakily. The longer he stays, the harder this will be. He just needs to go home, take a shower, and sleep for days.

“Look,” His voice cracks. “I’m just going to go. I can’t make you love me.”

“I-I never said that I didn’t love you.”

“I love you as a friend too.” I can’t bear this.

“Stan!” Kyle grabbed his arm tightly. Stan wobbled and nearly fell off the railing. Kyle pushed him back so he was flush against the billboard. “You always fucking do this! You never let me get a word in because you’re too busy playing the fucking scene out in your head! You don’t know everything!”

Stan stares back in shock. He should have expected Kyle to get angry but he didn’t expect him to say those words. Don’t know everything? What was there to know? Kyle’s body language said enough.

“Kyle,” He practically sobbed. “I can’t do this...Please, just let me go.”

“No! No, you don’t...You don’t get to just say that and...You-”

Kyle placed his hands on Stan’s head and forced them to lock eyes. Stan hitched a breath. Those green eyes stared into his soul. Everything was out in the open for him. Could they go back to the way they were after this? It was never that easy, was it?

Kyle wiped away a few of Stan’s tears. It was so gentle that Stan just cried more. Kyle moved forward hesitantly and placed their foreheads together. Stan leaned into the touch and placed his hands on top of Kyle’s. Stan’s cries became more of sobs and his body shook. Kyle rubbed his thumbs against his cheeks and tried to shush him.

“You never had to be scared,” Kyle whispered, his breath sending a chill down Stan’s spine. “You never had to worry.”

Kyle pressed forward and let their lips brush. Warmth. Everything was warm. It was sun-kissed skin on the first day of summer. Hushed whispers under the soft light of a lamp and relief in the arms of an embrace. It was breathtaking and, yet, a breath of fresh air. Stan wondered how he had lasted so long without his touch.

“I love you, too.”

“I...You do?”

“Yeah...I have for a long time.”

“You have?” Stan let a giggle slip out. And because he could, he leaned in for another kiss.

“Yeah,” Kyle breathed. “I don’t know if you remember but freshmen year I asked you if you were going to the dance. You said yeah and that you had asked Wendy to go. Then...you asked me if I had anyone in mind…”

“You...You said that the person you wanted to ask was already taken.”

“Yeah, well, that was you.” Kyle looked away and blushed. “I knew I liked you since maybe middle school? Or forever, I honestly couldn’t tell you when it started.”

“Oh,” Stan’s face burned. “Then why were you sucking girls faces?” Wow, so blunt, Marsh.

“I guess I was trying to...get over you? Also experimenting to see if I was gay or whatever. Never really helped me get over you clearly.” Kyle rubbed their noses together and Stan giggled again. The love of his life loves him back. How could he not? "I should have told you but...I was terrified of what you would do. I convinced myself that we could never be together. Which, like a lot of things I have done, was really dumb."

“But Clyde said, Heidi-”

“Clyde doesn’t know shit,” Kyle growled. “You want to know what we did? We talked about you. We talked about how I’m madly in love with you and she could see it from ten feet away. She was trying to help me sort out my feelings.”

“Oh,” Wait. “You’re madly in love with me?” Stan grinned impossibly wide.

“I didn’t-” His face turned a dark red to rival his hair color. “Shut the fuck up.”

Stan threw his head back and laughed. Still chuckling, he wrapped his arms around the other boy. He squeezed him tightly and rocked them back in forth a few times. He pressed Kyle to his chest and placed a kiss on the top of his hat.

“What made you know?” Kyle whispered.

“That night when you saved me from myself.” Stan looked up at the stars and thanked each one for the boy in his arms. “God, Kyle, I was so gone that night. You didn’t have to come over after reading my text. You didn’t deserve that. I treated you like shit. I don’t deserve you.”

“Stan, don’t just-”

“No, please let me finish.” He tangled their fingers together. “You came over to see me regardless...And you were so gentle. You fucking sang Mayday Parade and smiled at me. Your smile literally leads me out of the dark of my head, Kyle.”

“Sorry, that was pretty gay.” Stan laughed nervously.

“Hey,” Kyle turned to face him. He was crying again. Stan tried to wipe them away and Kyle chuckled. “Nothing wrong with being gay.”

“Good.” Stan grinned.

“I-I love you so much. I’ll always be here, okay? Now that I have you...I'm never letting you go.”

“Okay...I love you too. So much, you have no idea.”

Kyle blushed and wrapped his arms around Stan’s neck. “I think I have a pretty good idea.”

“Ky?” Stan hummed.

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me again.”

“If you want a kiss so bad then what’s stopping you? You have a pair of lips too.”

“I want you to kiss me. I forgot what it’s like.”

“I just kissed you not even ten minutes ago?”

“Sounds like a pretty shitty boyfriend if you ask me.” Woah, Marsh, that was fucking bold.

“Boyfriend...Well...I guess I need to make up for it then.” Kyle smiled slowly.

“Yeah, I’d say so.”

Despite his words, Stan met Kyle halfway for another kiss. Kyle’s lips were so soft and Stan made a mental note to take better care of his chapped ones. Kyle pulled away after but Stan found himself chasing after him. He placed his hands on the sides of his face and pulled him into a deeper kiss.

Stan had only kissed a few people and he was never confident in his abilities. He often got too enthusiastic which led to him bumping the other girl’s nose or clunking their teeth together. Kissing Kyle, like everything else involving him, was different. He felt confident, he felt good. He brushed his tongue along Kyle’s lips and they both sighed when Kyle let him in.

Stan groaned low in the back of his throat. It was like the two had been starved for so long. It was so much that Stan had to pull away to breath for a second. Kyle began peppering his face with light kisses. Stan sighed contently until Kyle blew a raspberry onto his cheek. Stan shoved him away playfully.

“Dude, gross!” He giggled.

“What? You don’t like that?” Kyle grinned devilishly. He dug his fingers underneath Stan’s arms. “How about this?”

Stan practically screeched. No, his underarms were his kryptonite! He tried to wrestle away but Kyle was no weakling. They used to tussle all the time as kids. The rules were always simple: the first one to die loses. As Stan gasps for air, he thinks that Kyle still goes by those rules.

“Okay!” Stan wheezed. “Uncle! Uncle! I give up.”

“Victory for the Jews!” Kyle chants. His face softens briefly. “Hey, it’s our song.”

Kansas played through the speaker of Kyle’s phone and Stan smiles. Once he catches his breath, the two begin to sing. It turns into screaming as they shout into the open night. They wrap their arms around each other’s shoulders and sway back and forth cackling. And just like that, it was as if nothing had changed.

Kyle was still Kyle and Stan was still Stan. They were super best friends.

They loved each other and nothing could tear them apart.

A/N: Songs Referenced: I swear this time I mean it - Mayday Parade Not in that way - Sam Smith Coffee Break - Forever the Sickest Kids One day at a time - Sam Smith Carry on wayward son - Kansas 

I would just like to say that this fic was heavily inspired by this fanart by @dudemarsh Please check out their work! They are such an amazing artist and that Style comic just killed me.  Anyways, I fell deep into South Park haha. I love Stan and Kyle and had to write about them. Especially, after all the drama they've been through recently ((´д｀)). This was originally supposed to be 100% angst because I started it during a horrible semester. However, my heart couldn't take it so I changed it. This fic and this note are so long, I'm so sorry. Hope you enjoyed! (*^▽^*)

[argoskeene]

it’s time for eli’s character analysis of rich goranski that’s been a long time coming if we’re all completely honest with ourselves but. here we go whoo

first thing’s first: the rich we see is the rich that the squip wants us to see. he’s heavily manipulated throughout the musical, but especially in the first few scenes. this is clearly what jeremy’s used to; rich pushing him around, insulting him, being a tormentor. from rich’s later actions ( him being more friendly to jeremy in the hospital, for example ) we can see that he doesn’t necessarily think jeremy is a bad guy/doesn’t necessarily dislike him, he’s just an easy target, and rich, via the squip, has the power to throw his weight around. the thing that sticks out to me about rich’s first interaction with jeremy is that it isn’t exactly violent --- rude, embarrassing, unnecessary, yes, but not physically harmful. he’s more bark than bite. 

in the bathroom scene, we ( and jeremy ) get our first glimpse at who rich is underneath the bravado, without the squip. a lot of his behaviour is attention demanding and erratic as jeremy tries to wash ‘boyf’ off of his backpack: yelling, banging on the stall door, etc. we can infer from this that rich is acting this way in a valiant effort to be seen or noticed, backed up by the fact that, apparently, no one knew he attended the school freshman year. there’s something about rich’s desperate tone when he starts to tell jeremy about the squip that suggests urgency, as if this is vital information that jeremy needs to know. to rich, maybe it is. remember that at this point, he totally buys everything the squip is selling him. 

the fact that jeremy doesn’t remember rich attending middleborough has some unfortunate implications. it suggests that rich was quiet and removed, so much so that ‘nobody’ noticed his presence. does that mean that once rich got the squip, people introduced themselves to him as if he were totally new? people just took him as a new kid, and he had to understand that the old him, the real rich goranski, just wasn’t important enough to remember? rich had to keep up this facade of confident and cool when the ‘old’ him faded into nonexistence and no one asked where he was. no one noticed that the ‘old’ rich was gone, instead just assuming he had never even been there at all.

the squip song is very interesting to me. we get a lot of confessions from rich in the second verse, which seems to be the most personal and the most honest. the first and third verses are both rich detailing his endeavours with being ‘popular’, things that jeremy can relate to. he talks about girl trouble ( ‘didn’t have a girlfriend or a clue’, ‘my sexting was a futile quest’ ), something that jeremy is having right now, and the squip has proven that it knows when things like that happen. it’s entirely possible the squip is feeding rich this information in order to convince jeremy to get one. the second verse, however, is much more personal, starting at ‘i was hopeless’. there’s a lot of self depreciation in this verse, with rich calling himself hopeless very offhandedly, as if it doesn’t matter at all. he also calls himself helpless, but, surely, the squip was bought in an attempt to help? rich clearly feels a lot of disdain for himself that he’s not letting on.

moving to the big line in this verse: i was stagnant and idle, i was so suicidal. now, we know from christine that the musical isn’t above offhand references to suicide and depression, but this is a lot more ominous. we’re not given the impression that rich is as open as christine, nor are we given any indication that he could be lying for shock value. this implies that rich, pre squip, was lonely to the point of friendlessness, despite canonly having an older brother. i’ll get onto the topic later, but rich also has an alcoholic father to deal with, and no mention of his mother at all --- all that weighs on a kid. it’s entirely possible that, pre squip, rich was dealing with suicide ideation and depression. the idea of being ‘stagnant’ --- stuck in one place, being dull and sluggish, and ‘idle’, lazy or pointless: this is rich blaming himself for his unpopularity, taking the blame for falling under the radar... exactly something that a manipulative and abusive supercomputer would lead him to believe.

there’s a lot more to be said about the squip song, but this is already gonna be extremely long, so i’ll move on to when we next see rich. it’s after jeremy gets his squip, and rich asks for his finder’s fee. we learn from this encounter that rich is struggling for money at home, possibly because of his father’s addiction ( though we can’t be certain ), and that his dad is a drunk. the thing is, we learn that from jeremy’s lie. rich doesn’t even bother to deny it when jeremy says his dad drinks too --- just brushes it off with an ever casual ‘fuckin’... dads, right?’ and trucks onwards. this leads me to believe that rich has long since abandoned being angry/upset by his dad’s failures as a father. he’s desperate for someone to relate to, so he takes jeremy’s words as fact instantly, with a little help from the squips, who sync up and align jeremy’s desires to rich’s.��

rich continues to be very cavalier and unbothered about his experiences, which i’ll touch on now. obviously, with his dad, it’s more of a case of being used to it, or ‘over’ it, and so it doesn’t get dwelled on --- rich moves forwards without spending too much time thinking about his home life and invites jeremy over, changing the subject entirely ( but, most notably, back to the squip ). later on, it’s the rumours spread by his classmates and the squip that he treats with the same aloof modesty; ‘whatever. doesn’t matter. i’m finally free of that shiny, happy hive mind.’ by this point, rich has lost faith in the squip, come to terms with the fact that his friendships with his peers were mostly based on lies, and he’s so heartbreakingly casual about it. by his demeanour, it’s like he expected it to all come crashing down eventually --- it just happened a little sooner than he’d hoped.

his next appearance is halloween, and i’m relying on the stage directions a little for this, as they give more insight than the lyrics/dialogue do. it states that as the partygoers dance and sing, rich��s dance ‘becomes more of a desperate freak out. it’s clear something is wrong.’ i can’t remember the exact quote for this part, but they all clear out and leave rich by himself on stage before chloe comes to get jeremy for do you wanna hang. this means that something was obviously going on with rich during the party, but no one either noticed or cared. if anyone caught on, they didn’t ask what was wrong, and if no one caught on, it means they weren’t looking. rich isn’t as involved and noticeable as he thinks he is, even before the fire. the fact that he asks so many people about mountain dew red is really telling, too: people are just watching him freak out and not doing anything about it, not even offering. he’s all on his own in this once again.

even jeremy doesn’t do anything. rich ‘glitches out’ when jeremy yells at him for not warning him about alcohol and runs off, the ‘warning’ signal being a clear cry for help, but jeremy doesn’t assist or even ask. rich is left to deal with the events that follow all by himself, and, boy, does he deal with them. not only is jake’s house burned to the ground, but jake is injured, and rich is severely hurt, covered in burns, as seen by the few pictures we have of that scene. what a lot of people seem to forget is that injuries mean recovery, and recovery from a third degree burn is especially harrowing and lengthy, even without the psychological scarring it leaves, but that’s another post for another day.

rich, understandably, is gone until the hospital scene, but let’s not forget that it’s the memory of him that reminds jeremy about the mt dew red. rich is essential to the plot of bmc not only for introducing jeremy to the squip and setting the whole plot in motion, but also for cluing jeremy in on how to get rid of the squip. this raises so many questions, though: how did rich know? why was rich trying to get rid of his squip? what happened that was so terrifying that he had to expel it immediately? did it have anything to do with the shoebox full of squips in his locker? why does he have the squips in his locker? what are they for?

one of the joes implied via an instagram dm that rich’s squip was also trying to take over the school, and that’s why rich had the shoebox of dormant squips waiting. maybe that’s why rich wanted to get rid of his own: it suggested taking over the school, and he wanted no part of that. maybe the squip was getting too much, and he wanted it gone. jeremy’s squip says that rich is facing ‘a lot of pressure at home’, but the squip is not above lying, this we know.

i also want to point out that there is no solid evidence that rich set the fire. everyone blames him because, one, he was acting strangely at the party like jenna says, and two, he was the most severely injured. in the smartphone hour, we get the line ‘no, i wasn’t quite there, but i know what happened, i swear’. this clearly tells us that no one saw rich start the fire --- in all likelihood, it probably wasn’t him. there’s no concrete proof. the smartphone hour is also a touchy subject. all of rich’s classmates, people he probably considered friends, turn on him instantly in a desperate bid to secure their own popularity, get in on the gossip and use him for their own gain. the line ‘be honest... what are they saying about me at school?’ implies that none of his classmates have been to see him since the fire. it’s heavily suggested that these people don’t care about rich goranski --- they only care about the scandal surrounding him.

the hospital scene is very prominent, as it’s the only complete scene we get without any intervention from either boy’s squip. rich likens the loss of the squip to ‘losing a part of yourself’, which, it 100% is. the squip had become an ingrained part of rich’s personality, so much so that it was hard to discern where rich ended and the squip began. even with the squip gone, there’s going to be a long time in which rich realises his dependency on it, how it manipulated and hurt him more than it helped. he isn’t just going to instantly recover. the original rich goranski is gone, and that’s something that really gets to me. the boy rich was before his trauma and abuse is gone and rich is forever changed, someone totally new at the end of the musical. he’s got to come to terms with who he is, what he’s done and what people think of him before he can really be comfortable without his squip --- before he can really be free of the shiny, happy, hive mind.

tl;dr: there’s more to rich than fire/kermit jokes, and he has the potential to be a wonderfully interesting and devastatingly sad character, and he means the absolute world to me. i hope the time i spent on this didn’t go to waste and i hope i made you think at least a little differently about him djhfdjskd

[silentfcknhill]

hey I've seen you reblog stuff about drugs and stuff and I just wanted to ask what narcatics were you into? random and blunt question but just curous. I'm having a hard time lately... drinking but I'm trying to quit with with it now and just started weed. I just feel like it's neve gonna be better, you know? shit I so okay for so long and then it all goes to fucking hell again. I'm sorry for unloading like this....

It’s okay, I hope you don’t mind if I ramble a long-ass answer. I was mainly addicted to drugs that were not traditionally considered addictive physically, just psychologically. My main drugs of choice were weed, acid, mushrooms and occasionally molly. I never had a huge problem with alcohol, as in I didn’t drink often but when I did I went way overboard and would often mix drugs that would make me very ill. Weed was okay for me at first before I went overboard and was spending hundreds a month, and I am not completely anti-weed like some people in NA, but I think there are people who can and can’t handle it mentally. I can’t. If you have mental health issues, especially anxiety (though I’ve seen some people it can help their anxiety), paranoia, dissociation, derealization or hallucinations/problems with reality to begin with, it is like playing with fire. I’m not saying you should panic, everyone has different reactions, but I could never smoke again after the bad acid trips and ego deaths I’ve had. Too many flashbacks. And I got serotonin syndrome a lot. I quit using 17 months ago and I’m still dealing with effects like visual fractals, a new worldview and mood problems. 

For about a year I was suicidal and having panic attacks every day, and I had to work double shifts while crying and vomiting (quiting was not an option because we are too poor and I did not want to be homeless again, especially in that condition). It takes a while for your brain to recover and learn to produce it’s own serotonin after smoking weed every day for two years, so there is a major depression that occurs when you get clean. I lost my appetite for a couple months, and also couldn’t sleep on my own. Drugs were basically my go-to for every minor inconvenience, so learning to be a person again and deal with problems directly was difficult. I became extremely paranoid while detoxing. I also lost all interest in everything, I experienced no joy and only dread, terror and depression. My obsessions such as movies and music were no longer enough to enjoy, I needed to experience them on absurd amounts of psychedelics and meditate on them and see them from weird perspectives to appreciate them. I have started gaining back my appreciation for the little things in life again by now. 

The hardest part for me was coming to terms with the fact that I will never be the same as I was before ever again, and now I just have to adjust. It sucks that I was a teenager while this was happening, and my brain was still developing, so now it became a part of my youth and shaped my personality a lot. But I try to think of it positively, because now I have a new chance to become a better person, I have a fresh start and not many people can have a second chance after fucking up and having no common sense. I am lucky to have not gotten into any legal trouble, though a lot of relationships were destroyed, I really deserved it. I am not trying to self-pity, but it is a fact that I have suffered beyond words and been to hell (I’m not religious but to me hell is a psychological state of torment and existential darkness and lack of reality), but I have also grown as a person and become exponentially more self-aware, empathetic, introspective and accepting of my defects. 

I know exactly what you mean when you say you feel it will never get better. When you’re in darkness it effects your whole perception and sense of reality and colors every area of life. We lose our memory of anything good ever. Kind of like a Dementor from harry Potter has sucked out our soul, which Dementors incidentally were written by JK Rowling as an analogy of her depression (Sorry for random reference, I am a fan of Harry Potter). But we are both still young, well I am and I assume you are as well as I don’t know many elderly people on Tumblr, and time changes things. Time doesn’t heal, but it does give you the opportunity to heal and grow. Nothing will ever magically heal, we will always be addicts, but you will have good days, and some very good days and memories, and those are worth riding through the bad to get to. It is very difficult to keep perspective, but I spent a couple years of my life on drugs. I have 70 years left ahead of me, best case scenario. This is not the end at all. 

I have seen people successfully drink and smoke and not become upset or addicted, but I have Asperger’s and BPD and I was foolish to ignore the sensitivities and chances I was taking and I put my trust into the wrong influences and people. I have developed my own coping mechanisms throughout my life, because addiction was obviously not the first and only trauma I’ve been through, I’ve been having issues since being a toddler basically including emotional violent abuse from the time I was born, sexual assault, personal deaths, bullying, self-harm and mental illness, having parents who are mentally ill and unstable and dealing with their suicide threats as a child, divorce, homelessness, murderers in the family, robbery, knife attacks, being a therapist to my mother, trying to stay objective as she described to me her post-partum depression involving demons telling her to throw me off a balcony and molest me, multiple suicide attempts of my own including a horrendous overdose, multiple hospitalizations, medications, dating a man in his 40’s as a young teen, being cheated on twice, coming to grips with my LGBT identity, and much more. I grew up in a fantasy world, always acting and playing pretend even to this day, I live my life through the eyes of my favorite characters, even while alone. AT this point it is very easy for me to detach from my emotions and reality and observe my own suffering as though I was a character in a movie or something. This is also why I have a decent tolerance to pain. I just view it as an experience, a memory. Time is really an illusion, so when I am hurt, I just remember that in a few hours it will be like nothing ever happened. 

Also, the one most important message I took from NA is probably the simplest, and most people don’t give it a second thought because it’s just a cliche to them, but when you really meditate on it and practice it, you realize how incredibly true and helpful it is: “One day at a time.” And that motto is a principle, not have to take it literally. I know for a lot of people, myself included, it can be more like one minute at a time, but you really gotta try to keep priorities in sight and self-care when need be. Sometimes there is nothing you can do to help yourself but go to sleep all day. It is fine to do that. I have trained myself to fall asleep relatively quickly using deep, controlled stomach breathing and and stims and mental focus patterns such as waterfalls, space travel, etc, movement that stays constant and is relaxing. Music helps too, but only without lyrics. There are a lot of sound pieces on youtube and stuff made for relaxing, like the sound of rain, or nature like the ocean or amazon. Whatever suits you. It is handy to have an off button like a computer sometimes. You just shut down and reboot. 

I’m not saying it is healthy to be avoidant, and I definitely have shut down and become very robotic as of late, but it is highly preferable to the alternative for me until when/if I learn better skills. You will hopefully feel better when you wake up, whether it was physical anxiety or mental or both. Plus, scientifically, sleep and dreaming is when our brains process information and memories, so we may come to familiarize ourselves with unknown fears or stresses while we sleep and wake up more able to deal with them rationally without the fight or flight. One day at a time ties in to a concept we call “the triangle of self-obsession”, and it relates to how living in the past causes resentments, focusing on negatives in the present causes anger, and fear stems from living in the future. One day at a time, take shit as it comes and don’t cross bridges before you get to them. of course, planning still is good but we must be flexible and not place our whole mental state on something that hasn’t happened yet. Anger roots back to fear, fear roots back to lack of control, and once we accept that we really cannot control everything and be omnipresent and all-knowing puppetmasters, we become more humble. 

I myself have come to terms with the fact that I am very narcissistic. I never thought I was, due to low self-esteem, but it only recently occurred to me that being narcissism is usually just a symptom of low self-esteem anyways, and it is just expressed differently. Some people build massive egos and brag. For me, my narcissism forms through being self-centered and selfishly focused on my own problems. Some people focus daily on distinguishing whether they are living and acting on their own will or their higher power’s will, and adjusting their behavior accordingly, because living on our own will is what got us in this position in the first place. I don’t really have a higher power in the traditional sense at this point, but it is still good to be mindful that I am not the center of everything, and that even though I claim to be open-minded, I am still just as judgmental and hypocritical as anyone else, I just express and experience it in different ways. Anyways, long tangent, no one cares, I will shut up now. I am kind of a basketcase, but if you need to talk, you can message or dm me anytime.