#and also clean my room tidy space start an art project to immediately make a mess again

[milo-is-rambling]

If I think any harder about anything I will explode but also if I don’t sit down and have a full day of reading and absorbing media and creating connections in my mind I will also explode. Do you see my problem.

[invertedeidolon]

The Longest Library #6: The Life-Changing Manga of Tidying Up: A Magical Story by Marie Kondo

This is a series in which I attempt to read and review all (or most of) my library of 297 books.

Rundown: Chiaki is a twenty something on her own, with a messy apartment that's been attached to a lifetime of failed relationships (although a lot of them seem like unrequited crushes she tried waaaay too hard for). The clutter and the drain it causes literally buries her own dreams and aspirations. Even if you don't intend to use KonMarie's method for things, it's a cute and concise way to see the impact it has when properly applied. Very wholesome, 5/5, would even give to my grandma.

Because of copyright and being respectful to the authors and artists, I'm going to try and keep pictures to a minimum, and do my best to describe things without them. Such is the hazards of reviewing a manga.

First off, before you even open the book, it's got this really nice matte satin finish on it. It's extremely pleasant. I had to just pause and say that for a second.

When I first picked this up in barnes and noble about a year ago, I didn't expect it to be so... I guess rich? There was no part of it that felt wasted or unnecessary. All of it felt good, and if it wasn't good, it was better. The art is pretty simplistic, almost all of it done in the same pen, and if you look close enough it all retains that human element. You can tell a hand did that. But it's still so consistent and, I suppose experienced, that it doesn't become distracting. The characters stay on model and don't look too weird, even when drawn tiny and comedically.

I like how the very first step is deciding that you want to tidy up. Even if the method described is much different than what everybody thinks it is, still coming at it with that same willingness and energy, resolute to do some real work, is necessary. It isn't as frantic and energy consuming as the heavy cleaning most people think of, but instead the method can be emotionally and mentally taxing. It requires that same decision to dedicate yourself to it.

Even though my house isn't as fine tuned as it would be had I used the konmarie method, I still make a point to do small tidying sessions as soon as I see there's a need for it. I come from a hoarder house and so do my partners, so there's an extra motivation to keep the space as far away from that as possible.

That being said, I recognize the main character's exhaustion. The startling mess that comes from such a professional seeming young woman just doesn't really register, she just kind of lives with it 'for the time being' (this is a phrase that pops up later).

As an aside, When she goes to answer the door, there's this curtain she pulls over to kind of hide the rest of the apartment behind her. I have no idea if it's a staple of Japanese apartments (in which case, what a neat idea! Nobody who's just at the door needs to know what my home looks like). If it's just her, deciding that she needs a curtain to hide her embarrassment, however... just damn.

So the reality of needing to tidy up sets in when the neighbor accidentally DOES see what her apartment is like. (He initially came to tell her to please get the garbage off her balcony because it's starting to stink... she kept putting it there, intending to bring it down in the morning, but then forgets). So a valiant? effort is made. But the roadblocks to starting on such a huge mess is apparent. Can't do garbage, there's too much on the balcony already. The sink is so backed up and she can't find the sponge. You kind of move from task to task and can't really find a place to start because you don't know HOW to start. And tackling something that huge in more manageable pieces isn't for everybody. Sometimes you can make messes faster than you can clean them. So it feels like treading water, like you're not getting anywhere. And that's usually where people give up. So she does.

Also, I find it hilarious that she found out about KonMarie while on a search for proof that there's people who are way messier than her.

She was totally expecting a Hoarders type situation. Nope! It's all just you and this tiny fairy woman.

So this being my first exposure to KonMarie, I was actually super invested when she asked this question. I appreciate this question so much. My (literal) garbage television of choice is Hoarders, and usually on that show, if they set goals, it's extremely short term. Mostly because they have only so much time that the workers can be there. Sometimes it's even so small as 'clear this one hallway so that my husband doesn't fall and break his leg and potentially die in his own home'. Meanwhile KonMarie is over here like 'what's your life going to look like after your place is clean'? Which is a very good question to ask, especially if you don't want someone to fall back into old habits. Cleaning is basically making room for yourself and your life, instead of just your stuff.

So, living 'for the time being'. I see this way of living as a form of energy preservation. You don't make the effort to do the 'right' thing, which would be expending the small effort to clear your coffee table so you can have a nice place to eat breakfast tomorrow. That's okay, it's just temporary, right? But then the next day, you go to have breakfast. You see the messy table and immediately deflate. You need to eat standing now because you don't have the time to clear the table AND make breakfast. You don't feel as great as you could be, but that's okay, right?  The trend unfortunately continues. It also spreads to other areas of your life. Unfortunately, by preserving energy by not doing the small tasks, the small tasks become bigger ones. That you no longer have the energy for. Especially now that you're having to SPEND energy working around those large tasks. Doing the small thing in the first place would mean you would RECEIVE energy as a result. Clearing the table the night before means a nice, calm peaceful breakfast, and you get to the rest of your day feeling energized now that you've had that bit of quiet to yourself. If you find yourself avoiding tasks, you might need to do something specifically to restore yourself. That's what self care is about in the context of maintaining your space.

“Nine out of ten items demoted to loungewear...are never worn!”

So, I have this talent for knowing where everything is in the house at all times and remembering what I have (a Forbidden Skill that comes from living with hoarders and also a shitty birthgiver who would arbitrarily throw stuff away). And I know exactly which pieces of clothing she's talking about. The huge pair of pj pants that I barely use unless it's abnormally cold. The various camisole tops with the missing underwire that I don't wear because the straps are synthetic and melted at the ends so it makes this unfortunate stabby bit. Yeah. I should get rid of those. Tshirts and shorts are better off as loungewear because that's what I use them for apart from exercising.

"Besides, why would you wear joyless clothes inside when you would never wear them outside? Your time at home should be special too."

This is something I've come to appreciate during quarantine. I feel TONS better when I'm wearing something nice, even inside. I get more work done and I feel more professional when I actually 'get dressed' instead of trying to work in my nightgown. Even putting on an apron makes housework feel more purposeful. (I'm going to take this to the next level and eventually make my own apron)

This is what I mean by it becoming draining over time. Even a good day is hampered by coming home to a cluttered area. Even having one space to sit that looks nice helps. (for context, Chiaki only just tidied her clothes, but nothing else yet, so she had an amazing day, feeling great in clothes that made her feel great, and then came home to this.)

"Books that haven't been moved in a while are dormant, so it's hard to judge whether to keep or discard them."

I appreciate this humanizing element of objects. I feel like a lot of us are taught early on to stop caring so much about our belongings, especially when they're no longer age appropriate, and we're pressured by peers and parents to 'let go'. When I give any object in my home a character or spirit, I find I take much better care of it. It's also partially the basis of my teddy bear medical project (the stuffed animal is essentially an emotional mirror, and taking care of the bear helps it echo back a need to care for yourself). Also interesting, to quote from wikipedia: "Kondo says that her method is partly inspired by the Shinto religion. Cleaning and organizing things properly can be a spiritual practice in Shintoism, which is concerned with the energy or divine spirit of things (kami) and the right way to live (kannagara)"

Also on the subject of books, I readily agree that #thelongestlibrary is a way for me to avoid immediately throwing away books. But now that I can make regular content out of them, they all have a purpose now, don't they?

This bastard. No matter how many times I purge my writing stash, one of these always shows up. Why is it sticky??????

"That's right. Things that are kept 'just because' are stored 'just because', and accumulate 'just because'."

This is true. However, I'm in a weird place because of my skills and profession. Can KonMarie please come validate my decision to keep crafting supplies and surplus packaging???

"Instead of buying storage goods to make do, wait until you've completely finished and look for ones you really like" "You mean don't buy things 'Just because!' "

I don't know how many times I've seen a messy house with a stack of brand new storage bins, never used, or storage bins overstuffed and sometimes broken. Something I forgot to mention that is a huge part of the KonMarie method, is organizing by category, and not by room. You get ALL of one object in the house, and put it in a pile in the middle of the floor, so you can see just how much you have (clothes, books, cosmetics, etc.) If you clean by room, you may have gotten all the clothes in the bedroom put away nicely, but they there's still dirty laundry, and also the workout clothes in the living room, and some in the bathroom, and it all doesn't fit and has to go in a storage container or gets stuffed in a weird place and you never see it again! So don't get storage. If it doesn't fit in your house, that means it likely doesn't fit in your current life. And either the object has to go, or your life needs to change.

"Wait, it's not the things I'm discarding, but the things I'm keeping that are in this room!"

This is a principle that I think didn't really occur to me, or a lot of people. Getting rid of excess stuff is important, yes, but making sure what you're keeping is meaningful is equally and sometimes even more important. It's something that could be applied to all areas of your life.

"Your home is linked to your body. If it isn't comfortable to live in, you'll feel exhausted, just like I did."

KonMarie puts so much love into her method. If you've never seen her show, I highly recommend it. It isn't like Hoarders at all. It's like the difference between American Gordon Ramsey and The Great British Bakeoff. Even if the families depicted are a little tense, it's clear they still love each other deeply and just need to be guided into making their home a place where that love can happen unimpeded.

If you've never gotten into KonMarie, I'd say this is a stellar first exposure. I love the hell out of this tiny, thoughtful woman.

Have a couple of bonus faces because the artist is a gem.

*don’t be suspicious, don’t be suspicious*

I’ve already lost count of my books. 6 down, 200 something to go.

[ft-dads-au]

Traces of You

Stingue Week 2019 Prompt: Reminisce Home for the Holidays 2019 Prompt: Written A collaboration by @mdelpin and @oryu404​ AO3 | FF.Net Notes: This story contains lyrics from a song called ‘Time spent Walking through Memories’ and are originally written by Kim Jong-Wan, the amazingly talented lead singer of the Korean band Nell. For anyone who is interested, here is a link to the song that includes the English subtitles:  https://youtu.be/FS_WGNOufbg

November 14th, 2013 No matter how many times Rogue had come home to an empty house, he was still struck by the same feeling of desolation he felt every time he stepped over the threshold. There was no smell of food being cooked in the kitchen, no face turning away from the tv for even a brief second, just to say hello, no pair of shoes in the hallway other than the ones he had just put there himself. The only thing that greeted him was darkness and silence.

He hung up his coat in the hallway closet and flicked on the lights, then unpacked his bag. With a heavy sigh, he walked into the kitchen to rinse out his water bottle in the sink and clean his lunch box so they would be ready to use tomorrow. The house was as good as spotless, no dirty dishes or other personal belongings were lying around as he had kept everything tidy to keep himself distracted. But a spotless house was just another reminder that there wasn’t anyone but him to leave their mess behind.

Either way, he had to move on. Sitting around and feeling sorry for himself wasn’t going to do him any good, so from the moment he had said goodbye to Sting at the airport, he had tried to keep himself busy as best as he could. Today wasn’t any different, and after he had taken his textbooks and notepads out of his bag he sat down at the dinner table to do some studying.

But it was too quiet.

Rogue closed the textbook he had been blankly staring at and put it away again, not being able to focus on anything but the lack of sound surrounding him. The other chairs at the table were empty, triggering thoughts about the ones whose presence they used to mark. His father’s coat wasn’t draped over one of them for his mother to complain about as she took it off to put it where it should have been in the first place, Gray wasn’t bent over his homework in his usual seat at the other end of the table, and Sting wasn’t sitting across from him, playing footsie with him while trying to don a mask of feigned innocence.

His own chair scraped across the floor loudly as Rogue rose up to find something else to focus on, but he already knew he’d be confronted with his solitude no matter where he went or what he did.

When he ate, there was only one plate on the table, one glass of water to be filled. When he showered, Sting’s half-empty and forgotten bottle of shampoo was sitting next to his own. When he went to bed he swam in a sea of empty space and unstolen blankets, mapping the irregularities in his ceiling like constellations in the night sky. And when he curled up on the sofa to watch Netflix he was presented with the profiles of his family members who hadn’t been watching anything in a long time, with favorite picks that weren’t all his own and with suggestions to continue watching series he used to binge with someone wrapped around him.

The only thing he had left to throw himself into when he was alone, was art. Both writing and music had always been his escape from reality, letting him dissolve into worlds of his own creation. He went to his room and grabbed his guitar, carefully tuning it as he sat at the edge of his bed. Mindlessly plucking at the strings for a while, he eventually found a melody that embraced the gloom he was carrying around, and before he knew it, it started leading a life of its own.

Rogue wasn’t sure what made him decide to grab his phone and record the song he had composed on a whim, or why he felt the sudden urge to provide it with a set of lyrics. He had written songs for Phantom Lord before, but always in collaboration with Gajeel. This was all his own doing, a solo-project born from the emotions he had refused to fully surrender to.

But now he had opened the hatch and everything came pouring out like a rainstorm, as memories and sentiments were taking the shape of words hastily scribbled onto a piece of paper.

And surrender he did.

Even now, I still hear your voice Even now, I still feel your touch And today I lived within traces of you

Even now, I still see you Even now, I still feel your warmth And today I lived within your time

In the shape of a stranger passing by on the street, In the desolate dance of the fall leaves playing in the wind Even in the evening air that grazes my cheek In everything I see, hear and feel You’re there

So how about you, how about you? Are you feeling the same? How about you?

At the empty chair, discarded by the roadside In the glass of water I thoughtlessly raise to my lips Even in the mirror I face to see myself Even in the gentle music that sits in my ear You’re there

What do I do now, what do I do now? You must have erased me So what do we do now?

Rogue put his pen down and stared at the words that had just flowed out and onto the paper, playing back the recording to let the sounds of his guitar merge with them inside his head. The last notes had yet to die out when he crumpled up the paper and tossed it across his room, and the pen right after it. Not because it wasn’t good enough- it might just be the best song he had ever written- but because it was way more than what he was willing to share with anyone. This was just too personal, and upon realizing what he had just tapped into, Rogue was faced with the sad truth.

He wasn’t moving on at all.

Instead, he had been walking around in memories, unable to let go of what could have been but wasn’t meant to be.

But enough was enough, so he made a radical decision. In a sudden fit of resentment, he tossed the guitar onto his bed and stormed out of the room. He found an empty box in the laundry room that he took with him under one arm as he went through the house and filled it with everything Sting had left behind.

A pair of sunglasses from the kitchen’s clutter drawer, a winter scarf from the hallway closet, the bottle of shampoo from the bathroom, a comic book that had fallen behind the bed, and one lost sock that Rogue had kept in his sock drawer for no rationally explainable reason.

All that was left as a tangible reminder of his presence in Rogue’s life was a slew of pictures and text messages on his phone, and that was up last to be removed. Rogue dumped the box on the floor and picked up the phone from his bed, where he had left it after replaying the song he had recorded. Since the application was still open, it was the first thing to go, deleted without being given a second thought.

The pictures were up next, but there were so many of them, and as Rogue selected them one by one he was taken back to the times when those pictures were taken.

Delete selected items?

Rogue's thumb hovered above the screen in a few moments of hesitation, because although these pictures were painful to look at now, they were also keepsakes from precious moments. But before he could make a decision, another screen popped up that made him hold his breath.

Incoming call: Sting Eucliffe

Rogue stared at the screen unsure of what to do. Perhaps this was the sign he’d been waiting for. His chance to make a clean break of it all. All he had to do was tell Sting that they needed to just stop. Talking, texting, all of it.

The ringtone he’d chosen for Sting as a joke rang in his ears, reminding him of yet another moment they’d shared. He was going to do it. He took one deep shaky breath, bolstering himself for the conversation that was bound to be uncomfortable. He swiped his finger to accept the call.

"Hey."

"Hey…uhm, is this a bad time?"

Rogue had to bite back a 'You have no idea', but he managed to keep himself in check and act like nothing was wrong.

"No, it's fine."

"Okay…so, how's your day?"

Rogue looked at the box that lay at his feet and almost laughed, "About the same as usual.”

Even through the awkwardness in Sting’s words, Rogue could sense something was up and despite his intentions, he couldn’t help but be curious.

“Right, uhm so listen, I can’t talk long but I wanted to ask you something.”

Rogue’s heart began to beat faster as he detected the underlying excitement in Sting’s voice. “Ask?”

“Yeah, my parents want to know if you’d like to spend the holidays with us, you know, visit Edolas over break.”

“They do?” Rogue felt like an idiot, but he was so surprised by the turn the conversation had taken that he couldn’t seem to put any words together.

“They wanted to thank you for everything you did for me when I was over there, and well you know, I wouldn’t mind seeing you again,” Sting chuckled nervously.

Rogue stared at the wall in disbelief. Visit over the holidays? And that last bit, it almost sounded like Sting missed him too. He looked down at the box again, frowning as he tapped it with his foot.

He listened absently as Sting continue to babble on with his usual exuberance about the things they could do and how fun it would be, all of his previous awkwardness disappearing as he described places Rogue had never heard of, and people he’d never met.

“So, uhm, what do you think?”

Rogue blinked at the question, not sure of how long Sting had been waiting for him to respond.

“I’d have to speak to my parents about it first,” Rogue lied, cursing himself, knowing Sting would immediately recognize it for what it was. But what choice did he have, five minutes ago he’d been considering cutting all ties and now he was being invited to visit? He couldn’t really process this right now.

He hated the disappointment he heard in Sting’s voice when he responded, “Oh, alright. That makes sense I guess. Give me a call when you know so I can tell my parents whether to buy a ticket or not.”

“Sting?” Rogue wanted to say something that would somehow save this conversation from the disaster it had become but he was still too conflicted so all he could manage was, “Thank you for the invite. I’ll call you soon.”

“Okay, I look forward to it,” Sting replied, sounding awkward once again, and Rogue recognized the switch to more formal language for what it was. He may not have spoken the words he’d meant to say at the beginning of the conversation, but the message had gotten through regardless.

As the call ended Rogue couldn’t help but feel the house closing in on him again. He grabbed the scarf from the box, running the fabric through his fingers, wanting to touch something that made him feel closer to Sting.

He wrapped it around his neck thinking about the upcoming holidays, and how he would be alone once again. Last year there had been no tree, no big Christmas dinner, no singing carols, and no skating in their backyard pond which had fallen into disrepair after his parents had left. Nothing but Rogue, and Netflix.

But he didn’t have to do that again, not if he didn’t want to. This year he had a choice. The question was, should he take it?

He knew what he should choose, but listening to Sting’s voice had cinched it for him. He wasn’t quite ready to let go yet. And if he chose to visit, maybe they could find a way to make things work despite the distance that would be between them again once it was time for him to return home.

With that thought in mind, he unwrapped the scarf from his neck, tossing it back into the box. From the corner of his eye, he could see the crumpled up sheet of paper. He picked it up and smoothed out the creases to his best ability before folding it twice and adding it to the box. Instead of dumping all its contents in the trash like he had planned to do, he walked over to his open closet, finding a spot on one of his shelves to plop it on. Likewise, he refrained from deleting the pictures on his phone. He would hold off for a little while, and after he returned from his visit he would make his final decision.

Remembering that Sting had said he couldn’t talk for long, Rogue brought up the messaging app on his phone.

I’d love to

He chuckled at the almost immediate response full of so many emojis, it made him worry for Sting’s sanity. And with something to look forward to he found the house no longer felt so empty. 

(PS, by DivineBurrito: ) I love this band and this is one of the first songs from them I fell in love with, but I can recommend their other work as well! Thank you for reading!