#and the last essay i wrote was the worst essay id ever done in my life and i get my standards are higher bc ik im good at essays

[hella1975]

ive got an essay due at 3pm tomorrow and ive not even looked at it i am so so unserious about my degree and by the grace of some higher being i somehow keep managing to crawl through it's actually getting a bit funny

[edwad]

What are your least favourite Marx books? Which ones are the worst?

this is sorta tricky because i guess you’d have to define “books” since

many of his most famous writings are tiny pamphlets or speeches which were then published as articles or pamphlets and might not properly be considered “books”, especially since some of them were only published posthumously as texts once transcripts were found for speeches. value price and profit would be the go-to example for this.

a lot of the “books” we now have are really just editorial collages of manuscripts that were not written in the format of a “book” and were in many cases not even intended to be published. so when we try to measure their worth in how Good they are or not, sometimes the “book” we’re talking about doesn’t really exist or is constructed/“finished” (often poorly) from the raw manuscript(s). great example would be the economic manuscripts of 1864-5 which were then turned into volume 3 of capital, but the debate around the nature of engels’ job as editor means that the “book” capital volume 3 is considered by many to be inferior to the unadulterated manuscripts, if not an outright distortion of them.

but if we can sorta treat all the published texts as “books” (excluding like, individual articles unless they are noteworthy enough to single out. if they’ve been published as a pamphlet and are considered Important Texts i’ll consider them here) and ignore the fact that marx was an extremely prolific writer (meaning that there’s a lot that i haven’t read), id largely come down on the younger marx.

i think pieces like the communist manifesto, paris manuscripts, wage labor and capital, etc are relatively intellectually immature compared to his later works. a lot of what’s in them had to be corrected or outright abandoned by the 1860s. there’s also the problem where the paris manuscripts suffer from the 2nd problem listed above where they are mishmashed together in such a way that they appear inconsistent and where the actual process of inquiry gets lost in the rearranging of pieces of text. for example, the piece we read at the beginning as the “preface”, but which was actually from the third manuscript and was pulled to the front by editors, shows an attempt by editors to “finish” what marx apparently would’ve done himself, despite the fact that the manuscripts were from marxs personal notebooks and for his own development/clarification as he studied, not manuscripts for a “book”. this seemingly minor change reflects the overall editorial attitude to the publication of the manuscripts. a more apparent alteration is in the last “manuscript” regarding the critique of hegelian philosophy, which was never written by marx. it is an “essay” compiled from paragraphs and stray remarks throughout the paris notebooks, put together in a semi-coherent order so that it could stand as a single text (the same thing happened with the first “chapter” of “the german ideology”). when editors are this bold, it is hard to distinguish the good/bad of marxs work from the heavy hands of editors.

the same is true of wage labor and capital, which was republished by engels after marxs death with numerous “corrections”, especially around the category of “labor-power” which marx developed in the late 1850s, about a decade after WLC was written. the result is that engels decided to publish “not as Marx wrote it in 1849, but approximately as Marx would have written it in 1891,” which ignores the fact that merely changing “labor” to “labor-power” everywhere in the text that mentions its sale as a commodity doesn’t magically bring it to some hypothetical peak. marxs theoretical foundations between 1849 and 1867 (not to mention 8 years after his death in 1891!!) were radically different, meaning that the updating of a single category doesn’t resolve the problems of the text. here again, the editor plays a heavy role in the reception of the text (if you’ve read WLC, you almost certainly read the 1891 edition with engels’ editing), but also the theoretical foundations themselves are inadequate and were jettisoned in a matter of years.

the communist manifesto comes from this era of marxs thought as well and suffers from the same problems, although marx and engels treated the text as a kind of “historical document” which shouldn’t be altered, displacing the explicit “corrections” to the prefaces of later editions. regardless, its fame as The text of communism means that it becomes the go-to text for encountering and combatting communism. this is why it’s taught in high school classrooms and why jordan peterson thought it was enough to simply deal with the manifesto (beyond the fact that he’d obviously never read anything else by marx) as if it was the final word on communism. it isn’t, and the text has many problems that it’s authors pointed to, but also several which are only ever made implicitly in other texts, as the theoretical foundations are constantly being placed under scrutiny and changed. in the manifesto, he is largely uncritical of political economy’s categories, adhering to a malthusian conception of wages and a naïve theory of crises.

but there’s another issue, which isn’t wholly unrelated here, regarding the esoteric/exoteric dimensions of marxs writings which aren’t really grappled with until the 1970s by the neue marx-lektüre, concerning the ways in which marx would often write in “popularized” fashion, resulting in a kind of theoretical “dumbing down” of the concepts. he was extremely aware of the need to make himself understandable and even rewrote the beginning of capital several times in order to escape the same fate of the 1859 contribution which did poorly, in large part due to the fact that most people didn’t really understand it and those that did weren’t the people he was trying to reach.

the problem is that this often led to simplification rather than clarification, crudifying the analysis and turning it into something else which meant, at the end of the day, he was still misunderstood. this problem exists in many of his texts (even my favorites), meaning that some of his pieces, especially those which are often more explicitly political, become somewhat contradictory when compared to his private notebooks at the time. another serious and related issue here is the political censorship he faced at the time, which likely had a lot more to do with the way he expressed himself in published texts than we typically think. in my view, both of these things together help explain bernstein’s identification of a reformist tendency in the later marx, which was combatted by equally bad readings of traditional “exoteric” marxisms.

anyway, this is less a list of my least favorite marx books and more of a marxological wash of problems with making lists like this in the first place. it’s often hard to distinguish between marx and his editors, but also he was constantly developing and self-criticizing older conceptions, meaning that his “worst” books for me come from periods/texts where he isn’t on very firm footing (basically everything he wrong up to the grundrisse as far as i’m concerned), but excluding some of the texts which i think are actually quite strong despite their editorial weaknesses. my interest, then, is in understanding his intellectual development and bringing context to some of his later positions. that makes even the worst texts really important, even if i don’t find them adequate, which is sorta the point since he didn’t either.

[wolfenm-marveling]

There are three big reasons I have not and don’t want to see Endgame ....

For one, I wrote a lengthy article about that will run in June at Sequential Tart (I'll update this post with the link when it goes live *EDIT* Here it is: The Subject of Character Death, Revisited - http://www.sequentialtart.com/article.php?id=3362 ). The other two, I'll talk about here; they involve Steve and Bucky.

I know what you’re thinking: Wolfie, how can you form an opinion on a movie you haven't seen? Well, I do have mental health issues (undiagnosed and untreated because I have no insurance or job, yay), so when the film was released in China, I found someone to spoil me so that I might make an informed decision as to whether or not I could *handle* seeing it, given some worries I had (and especially since 3 hours without a bathroom break was not going to work for me or my companion). I determined from that convo that it would be a Very Bad Idea for me to see the film.

Even seeing the constant posts about it  -- especially ones that called it a  “beautiful” or “perfect” end, etc. -- was triggering anxiety and mental anguish / circular thoughts (admittedly in part because there were similarly “bad” things happening in other fandoms of mine -- it was too much at once). And I'm STILL having massive issues with circular thoughts about it.

This essay isn't meant to tell anyone they’re wrong about how they perceive / feel about the film, BUT, while I know I shouldn't care what other people think, the sitch still makes me feel how I feel: frankly, a bit disturbed that people are loving things that are making me so awful. I feel like I've stepped into some sort of Bizarro world -- like I'm somehow in the wrong universe. It’s very distressing. (I mean ... they call it mental *illness* for as reason, right?)

In this franchise where I once found such great joy, I now find little more than anguish. It’s actually been making me physically ill to see the posts -- or to look on my massive Marvel collection; I've had to box much of it away for now. Hopefully some day I can enjoy it again. (I can't exactly stop using my $60 Captain America backpack I begged for, for my birthday, though. :/)

I find that when my thoughts get like this (like I'm on a runaway train that keeps revisiting the same stations), the only thing that helps even a little is to sort out my thoughts on the page -- even if I’ve done it before, as I have with this in the comments section of friends posts. (You may have seen other people express similar thoughts, too.)  And really, I don't want to rain on my friend’s parades, so I figure I’ll post it in my own space, and then if people ask me my thoughts, I can just point them here. And hopefully this post will help others who are similarly struggling (I know there are at least a few).

As for the old chestnut “It’s just a story/ a fictional character”, well, for one thing, let me repeat: mentally ill here. If I could control how I feel, I wouldn’t BE mentally ill. But also, I'm a writer who feels writing is a sacred calling, so when I feel a story is badly told, I tend to take it personally. Yes, I know my opinion is not the be-all, end all -- if you think it’s a good story, yay for you. Me, I feel betrayed by this story in a way I have rarely felt before (the other biggest instance having happened the week before the film's release, so double-whammy, yay).

Warning: if you read any further, I assume you either saw Endgame or don’t care about Spoilers.

(*edited to add* If you need some solace too, check out @antiendgame to find other people who are upset.)

The first upsetting points for me were the Noble Deaths (and, in Loki’s case, lack of resurrection) -- I hate that trope with the fire of a thousand suns. But that’s what I wrote the article on (including how 2012 Loki’s escape doesn't make me feel any better), so no more on that here.

Now, let me preface the rest of this by saying no, I wasn’t expecting a romantic presentation of Stucky. And as hard as I ship them fanon-wise, I don’t actually hate Steggy -- I adore Peggy in her own right (and like the idea of them  being a threesome with Bucky).

What I DO hate is that Steve abandoned Bucky for her.

Aside from Steve’s moral compass, Bucky was the impetus behind pretty much *everything* Steve did in his trilogy. He found the missing soldiers because Bucky was amongst them. Bucky’s death broke him -- and finding him again in Winter Soldier seemed to give Steve, who was clearly depressed, new life. Despite Sam insisting Bucky was Gone, Steve wouldn't kill Bucky to save the world. And in Civil War, Steve fought other dear friends, and was willing to throw away his own freedom, to protect his best friend. So how the FUCK is them being *separated pretty much forevermore* a satisfactory end to that story???????

TL;DR, the Captain America movies were about the repeated separation and reunion of Steve and Bucky … and yet we barely got to SEE them together before Steve said sayonara to the man he’d been best friends with for over a for over a decade, to go be with a woman he’d known for about a year. 

A woman who’d already had a family without him.

Yeah, we can say her family still exists in the original timeline -- but I have seen soooo many different explanations of how the time sitch works out, it’s not even funny.

Really, that’s the third reason I don't want to see the movie: I HATE time paradox, and this movie sounds riddled with it. Also, as I understand it, the writers and the Russos are saying different things, with the Russos saying it’s a different timeline (which apparently Steve would be going *back* to after the shield pass, for some reason, and yeah, that bothered me, that he didnl't even give his best friend that momento, and sent their last onscreen moments together talking to SAM), and the writers saying no, the alternate timelines were only a thing when the Stones were in play. So yeah, Steve could spend the rest of his life with Bucky then ... but that means he also would have erased Peggy’s family (and maybe her work). Unless he was the man she married all along.

Either way, it would mean that Steve let Bucky suffer, and let HYDRA infiltrate SHIELD, neither being things I could see him doing.

And if it IS a branched-off timeline, I LOATHE that time theory, because it means NOTHING WE DO MATTERS. There’s always a version of us that’s our worst selves, and people who suffer because of it. That’s hella depressing. (Even if it would explain why I feel like I'm in the wrong world.)

At any rate, the ONLY end I really wanted was to see Steve and Bucky get to be together, no matter how -- “just friends” would have been fine. It was literally the thing I wanted most in the whole damn MCU franchise (aside from seeing Loki be redeemed and then fight alongside the Avengers. *sigh* At least I didn't have high hopes there ...). I would rather Steve had taken Bucky back in time WITH him, even if Steve still married Peggy; time paradox issues aside, I could have lived with that -- yes, even if it meant we didn’t get The Falcon and the Winter Soldier. (And honestly, how much am I supposed to look forward to that anyway, when Sam has been such an *inexplicably* uncompassionate asshole to Bucky in WS and CW? A guy who runs meetings for people with PTSD holds a grudge against a guy who was brutally mind-raped? It's like they made him OOC for the lolz!)

As for “Oh, but Bucky knew and he was okay with it!”

Uh, if he was okay with it, it's just because the writers *wrote* him that way for their own convenience, so they could do this ending. I have been besties with someone most of our lives. We broke up a few times, but we managed to keep finding our way back to each other. We don't live in the same state, so we rarely see each other, but at least we DO sometimes, and we write each other. If this person said they were going to go live somewhere with no way to communicate with me ever again, so they could be with someone they loved, of course I wouldn't want to say don't leave, because I'd want them to be happy, and wouldn't want to stand in the way … but that doesn't mean I'd be “okay”. in the slightest. And I wouldn't WANT other people I care about to go through such pain, much less think it beautiful to watch.

Plus, as I always say, this is fiction -- I don't need *that much* “reality” in my escapism. Temporary angst is my bread-and-butter -- it’s cathartic -- but I need a happy ending to be the payoff. To me, A TRULY happy ending for Steve -- and the one that would have been the best payoff for the narrative we’ve spent a decade watching -- would have been for him to not have to choose between the two people he loved most.

Edited 5/11/19 to add: For all those who are all “Oh, they’re just friends, they aren't gay”, I am more or less fine with sexual Stucky staying fanon; they still love each other platonically, are SOULMATES, ACCORDING TO THE SCREENWRITERS THEMSELVES (Christopher Markus and Steve McFeely), who wrote this as part of the intro to the graphic novel Captain America: White - “…Of course, this is still a rollicking adventure tale, and no adventure is complete without a love story. And yes, these books have one – the longest, most tortured one in Marvel history, in fact. We’re talking about Steve and Bucky, without smirking or innuendo or raised eyebrows. Platonic though the relationship may be, from the meet cute to the tragic separation, their bond has all the elements of a classic romance.  These two men love each other – as any pair of friends who faced exclusion, combat, inhumanity, and death would. Their bond stretches across half the twentieth century. The loss of it gnaws at Steve throughout the modern day, and it slices his heart in half when the Winter Soldier rears his tormented, homicidal head. Just as Jeph and Tim’s earlier Daredevil: Yellow, Spider-Man: Blue, and Hulk: Gray all dealt with the major love interests in the heroes’ lives, so too does Captain America: White. Steve and Bucky are each others’ soulmate, if you will, because no one on Earth understands what either of them has been through as well as the other does. The book deals deftly with the strengths and weaknesses that relationship engenders. As the Red Skull himself says to Bucky, “The captain has a … ‘soft spot’ for you. A spot I intend to put a bullet through this very evening.” Soldiers fight for their country. They fight for themselves. They fight for each other. And sometimes they die for these things, too.  The ones who don’t carry the memory of the ones who did for the rest of their days. Steve Rogers is no different.”

So he's gonna leave his soulmate (no matter the nature of their love) behind forever? FUCK THAT NOISE. I am completely baffled ow two writers who see Steve and Bucky that way would go on to give them that ending.

And retouching the whole for Bucky “knows and is okay” thing, the Russos also said that Bucky is too damaged still to be Captain America. Uh, THAT DOESN’T SOUND LIKE THEY REALLY THINK HE’S OKAY.

[lifeofalaurie]

my uwc story

i remember reading through uwc blogs when i had just found out about uwc and when i was applying and going through all those months of WAITING for the next step...and they were so helpful. im so glad these exist

i first found out uwc through my brother’s friend, who actually went to UWC atlantic college (where im headed!!!!) a few years back. it was one ordinary saturday afternoon (idk if it was actually saturday but that sounds right) and we were carpooling with said friend (usually i dont participate in these but i happened to be in the car that day) and we were talking about next year and whatever and she just kinda said that she wasn’t going to be back next year bc she was going to this ‘abroad’ program. i didnt even really think about it that much. i in fact forgot about it after that...apparently my dad did not.

so my dad would talk about it here and there but i was NOT INTERESTED for that whole year..then...i started researching a bit myself and thought oh this sounds kind of cool. i still didn't really get what UWC even was or if was even a legit thing. it just sounded like another boarding school (a huge NO for me). then i saw that there was a such thing as a “short program” (or maybe someone actually told me about it) and i decided to apply for the one at the USA campus in New Mexico. i remember writing the essays over winter break and thinking they were pretty terrible (there was also a skype interview involved and that was rough) so i was pretty shocked when i found out i had gotten in but it worked out well bc my fam was going to arizona anyway a week before that so i just flew to new mexico myself after that (i say that casually but we had to cancel tickets and get new ones so that i could go to new mexico instead of home PLUS i had to fly for myself for the first time and i was pretty confused). (also, the program is called global leadership forum or GLF)

after hermit’s peak hike (ALL UPHILL FOR A SOLID 4-5 HOURS) i think it was like 8 miles IDK. view was so nice though 10/10

GLF turned out to be an amazing experience and really solidified my trust in UWC and confirmed to me that it was indeed a real thing. i really loved how much we did in those 2 and half weeks or so - camping, hiking, interacting w wolves, having important discussions - and it really pushed me to decide to apply to UWC for real. maybe ill talk more about it in another post!!!!

ok so coming home i did even more research and really really started liking UWC and decided that i might as well try to apply. i knew they never had a certain ‘criteria’ for students but i also knew it was a long and stressful process and involved really digging deep so i really didn’t think much of it (didn’t think i really had a chance) after submitting my written application. and then began the long waiting game...

here’s a nice picture of the sky @ a wolf reservation! just wanted to add a nice pic 

i never joined any of those fb groups or college confidential things for applicants and good thing bc looking at some of them now stress me out so i wouldve probably been even more stressed if i had been involved in that. also i didnt even know they existed until later so thats also probably why.

anyway i had totally forgotten about UWC (more like i was sure they’d forgotten about me or there had been something wrong like my application wasn’t submitted or something) bc i didnt hear back until the end of november (i submitted the application early october). but finding out i was a semifinalist was kind of traumatic bc in my GLF snapchat group one of my friends (who’s going to Pearson this year!!!) said he’d moved on to the next stage and i hadn’t GOTTEN ANY EMAIL. i think i just accepted it that that was the end. but then a few hours passed when i finally decided to check a different email and, alas, there it was. so a few days later, i got an email from my interviewer when we should do our skype interview and it turned out to be the same day i was taking the ACT. good

the interview turned out to be completely ok and actually really great (enjoyable even!!?). if youre at that stage, seriously the best advice i have is to just chill and be honest when youre answering. also, make it more like a conversation rather than the interviewers (yes there are prob going to be more than 1 but i assure u its ok) asking u questions back and forth. think of it as a conversation- that helped me so much to relax. the interviewers just wants to talk to you and find out what kind of person you are and if youre the same one that wrote all those deep meaningful essays from the written application - so if you were honest from the start youll be completely fine...if not, well..sry

after that, school and extracurriculars and life really went up for me and i just forgot about UWC again. i never really told any of my friends about it or anyone except for my parents. i kind of wanted it to be a personal thing- get in or not in the end.

after a really good last day of school before winter break, i went to the town library (lol) and checked my phone and therE IT WAS. I WAS A FINALIST WHICH MEANT I WOULD BE GOING TO THE UWC USA CAMPUS FOR FINALIST WEEKEND. did not know what to expect

waiting for finalist weekend felt looooong

but it came

i flew there myself AND IT WASNT EVEN DIRECT and i remember feeling so independent and proud for making it. it turned out i was one of the later ones and in the last group to be bussed over (but i met a friend on the bus who i still talk to here and there who is going to RBC this yr!!). we were so late we missed the initial meeting and first night of activities and just went straight to the hotel. at the hotel i saw my interviewer and she gave me a hug (<3) and that helped calm me down and it was also really nice to see her in person bc i remember really liking her during our skype interview. then finalist weekend happened. and im pretty sure im not supposed to expose the process so all i can say was that it was actually so genuinely fun and a real good time 

UWC USA <3 

at the end we all exchanged social media and fb and all that and started a messenger group chat -- as nice as it was to be able to connect to everyone, i think it really stressed everyone out. they told us that results would come out early that week (FALSE). THAT WEEK AFTER FINALIST WEEKEND WAS THE MOST STRESSFUL THING EVER. IT TOOK YEARS FOR IT TO GO BY. i remember constantly checking my email between classes and everyone in the group chat wondering if anyone had heard. then on wed night, we all got an email that said the results would be notified by friday instead. the worst

i remember that friday evening i was packing for my first hackathon (it was fun) and thinking the call wouldnt come until later that night. people were freaking out all over the group chat. then, as i was scrambling packing my sweatpants into my bag, the home phone started ringing and i ran..RAN TO THE PHONE. it said my interviewer’s name on the caller ID and i was like OK THIS I S REAL. and i picked it up and it turned out i was too late so i frantically called back probably 10 times on multiple different phones (my efforts did not work). but then, i got a call to the home phone again and it was her so i picked up RIGHT AWAY and when she told me... i kid you not that i screamed and ran around my house a few times. so thats it. it was kind of a really long and sstressful process for sure, but SOO WORTH IT. i definitely learned a lot just from that process bc it makes you think and reflect a lot all throughout. weeee

if youre even thinking about applying please GO FOR IT (well as long as ur in the right age limit, 16-18.... and also make sure you’ve done some research to get a feel for it).. but just DO IT. and u can ask me questions if u want and ill answer to the best of my personal ability (but remember that im just one person and one experience and each person’s experience is completely different)

here is the general website btw:

https://www.uwc.org/

i will probably do another post to explain UWC - at least in my own words and perspective!

<3 <3 <3

[yutasbirthchin]

Lean On Me.

Group: BTS Member: Rapmon (Namjoon) Word Count: 1537 Genre: Fluff

a/n: I would usually try and find a gif with only rapmon in its but this works so well so i stuck with it. also you'd think id get better the more i write but I'm 100% sure this is the worst one I've written.

You looked at your best friend trying his hardest not to fall asleep in the middle of this lecture. Namjoon always worked so hard and you always felt bad for him. It didn't take a genius to know that being an idol was grueling work, that you were constantly busy with barely any rest, and any university student would tell you how hard and stressful it was. And then to combine the two into one… you didn't know how he did it. How can you be a famous idol and still attend university?  

Last night Namjoon had flown back into Korea after BTS’s concerts in America, and instead of going back to the dorm and sleeping, he'd knocked on your door at 2am.

“Why are you here?” You asked, a little sleepy.

“Because if I went home I wouldn't be able to focus on finishing the essay.”

“Namjoon, you're an idol, you had an overseas concert, you literally have an excuse, if you just talk to them, you could get an allowance on the deadline.”

“But that isn't fair on everyone else.”

“No one else is a famous idol that works like 20 hour days.”

“Just let me in already.” He protested, pushing your door slightly. You sighed and stepped back, letting him step through the door and closing it behind him. He walked straight through the apartment you shared with two of your friends and into your room, dropping his bag at his feet as he sat down at your desk. “How long is it again?”

“5000 words, how much have you done?”

“Maybe 300?” He replied and you sighed.

“Namjoon, you've barely started. Just get an extended deadline.”

“No, it's 2:17, I have almost 10 hours, I can do it.”

“We have a lecture at 9.”

“Then I have 7 hours.”

“I still think you should get the deadline extended.”

“If I don't finish it by 8, then I'll think about extending it.”

“Fine.” You said, giving up and heading to the kitchen.

When you walked back in the room he had already set up his laptop and was furiously typing, only glancing away from the screen to flick through the notes in his various notebooks. You set the mug down on the table, causing him to look up at you with a questioning look. “If you're going to pull an all nighter, at least have a coffee.” You said, simply.

“Thank you.”

“You're welcome, now I'm going to have a shower and sleep.”

Namjoon nodded. “Goodnight.”

When you awoke a few hours later at 6:30, you heard the familiar tapping of a keyboard. You weren't surprised when you opened your eyes and were met with the view of your best friends back as he still sat at your desk working away. You stretched and sat up, pulling your phone off of the side table to scroll through Instagram, Facebook and Twitter.

Namjoon stretched his arms out, letting a groan escape his lips and drawing your attention.

“Did you finish it?” You asked.

He clearly wasn't expecting you to speak because he jumped slightly before turning to face you.

“No.” He shook his head.” I'm trying to write the conclusion but it doesn't sound right.”

You really shouldn't have been shocked, you'd known Namjoon long enough to know that he was highly intelligent and had the highest work ethic you'd ever seen on a person. Yet the fact that he'd essentially written his whole essay in just over four hours amazed you. “That essay took me a week to write and here you just do it all in a few hours. Why am I even in university?”

“Don't say that. You're smart enough to be in uni.”

“I know, I was kidding. But seriously, you're a phenomenon.”

“Don't most people finish their essays the morning of?”

“Yeah, but how many of those would ace it?”

“I've never aced anything.”

“You have an average grade of 96. That's close enough.” You said as you got up to grab your clothes to change into. “Anyway, don't take too long, try and make sure you at least shower before we leave.”

“Yes mom.” He replied, turning back to face his laptop.

Brianna raised an eyebrow at you as you stepped into the hallway.

“Yeah?”

“You have someone over?”

“Just Namjoon.”

“Of course, your best friend, Namjoon.”

“He pulled an all nighter to finish his essay.”

“And he couldn't do that at his house?”

“No.” You said as you headed towards the bathroom. It wasn't that you didn't like Brianna, of course you did. It was just that you didn't like talking to her about Namjoon. You weren't sure whether she just shipped the two of you or whether she genuinely believed that you were dating, but whatever she said always left you feeling uncomfortable, so you ignored it.

“I finished!” He exclaimed as you walked back into your room after a shower and breakfast. You walked over to Namjoon who was standing over your printer, waiting for his essay to print.

“Well done, I'm proud.” You said as you reached up to ruffle his hair. “Now go and have a shower because you stink.”

“It hasn't printed yet.”

“It's not going anywhere, pabo, you can get it after you shower, so get out!” You pushed him towards the door.

The two of you had made it to campus early enough to submit your essays before you headed to your lecture. When you entered the lecture hall, it was clear that at least a third of the students hadn't shown up, most likely because they were either finishing their essays, or because they were too tired from staying up to finish the essay.

Namjoon was included in the too tired category, but unlike the others he was stupid enough to not take the day off after submitting and was now sitting in the lecture hall trying his hardest not to fall asleep. As you looked at your best friend sitting in the seat next to you, you tried not to laugh at his obviously drooping head, deciding instead to reach out you hand to push his chin up. He stirred and eventually shook awake, turning his head to look at you in confusion.

“I told you you should have had just stayed at home.” You whispered, removing your hand.

“At your apartment with your weird friend? No thank you.”

“You could have gone back to the dorm.”

“It doesn't matter where I would have stayed, I couldn't have missed the lecture.”

“I'm here pabo, you could have my notes.”

“It not the same as being in a lecture.”

“I literally just woke you up, you're not taking notes because you can't even keep your eyes open. You may aswell have stayed asleep in bed.”

“Well I'm here now so stop complaining.”

“I'm not the one falling asleep.”

“Shhh.” He said, turning his attention back to the lecturer. It didn't take long though before he was drifting back into his dreams.

You watched him and contemplated letting him just fall forwards and whack his head, but knowing him he'd probably end up breaking the desk and you didn't really want to deal with all that. He was oddly cute, falling asleep with his mouth wide open, his head slowly swaying with the heaviness of sleep.

After a while you reached your arm around his shoulder and gently pulled him towards you, resting his head on your shoulder. As he awoke he tried to pull away but you kept an iron grip on him.

“Y/N?”

“You're tired, just lean on me and sleep.”

“But we're in the middle of a lecture.”

“And?”

“The lecturer will see.”

“We’re in a massive lecture theatre, with at least a hundred other people, I doubt he'd notice. He's a guest lecturer anyway, he doesn't know who we are.” You replied, deciding to leave out the fact that he had pink hair which clearly stood out for the sake of your own argument, luckily he was too tired to realise.

“You should be waking me up, you shouldn't be encouraging me to sleep.”

“You're tired, you just got back from America and wrote a whole essay without even sleeping.”

“But I should be listening and taking notes.”

“I'm taking notes that you can look at literally anytime. And besides, these lectures are recorded anyway, you could watch it at a time when you’re not falling asleep on yourself.”

“But everyone else is going to think we're dating.”

“Who cares?”

“Me, ARMY, my members, my manager, m-”

“Okay, okay, I get it, but we're near the back anyway so not many people will see. Even then, how many times have we had to deny it? I'm pretty sure they're all convinced that we're dating anyway.”

“A man and woman can't be in a platonic friendship?”

“Now is not the time for this discussion, you're distracting me. Just lean on me and sleep.”

He huffed in defeat and shuffled a little before settling comfortably on your shoulder. It didn't take him long before he was peacefully sleeping, still with his mouth wide open. You smiled at him before turning your focus back to the lecture.

[burningalight]

my binders/locker in grade school were stuffed with so much shit i couldnt find anything...always crumpled up papers, trash etc

chewed pencils/pens, broke them taking them apart in class, lost them, often didn’t have one, frequently borrowing them and forgetting to give them back to the point that certain people wouldn’t give me pencils

could comprehend reading i liked very well, but when we’d have reading groups with boring books id always be lost,  or when the teachers would have one on ones and have u read something short and ask questions after to assess ur reading level, they’d often have to tell me to read it again bc they knew how much i remembered didnt add up to my intelligence and reading speed 

moms college friend gave me an unoffical iq test and i did much worse than i know i shouldve on the reading portion bc she’d play a story and then ask me after to list every detail i could remember and i couldn’t remember anything. but when she played 10 numbers and asked me to say them out loud backwards i scored extremely high ?

couldnt do projects, would be in tears, last minute every time, parents mad bc i need a poster board RIGHT NOW ITS DUE TOMORROW . hated assigned reading, horrible at essays even when they helped us plan them. 

i remember my 7th grade social studies teacher assigning a paper, i wrote extremely detailed and well in the first paragraph or 2, and the following ones got shorter and shorter and were completely bullshit bc i got bored. she told me ‘really strong first paragraph.’ and gave me a B  

talk too got damn fast. customers constantly telling me to slow down bc they cant understand me

my mom always says she had to challenge me as a kid bc i would get bored and get in trouble. i was acting out bc i was understimulated, i happened to like learning (esp numbers and puzzles) bc smart so that’s what i could fixate on and felt stimulated by

lunch detention frequently in 8th grade in my first highschool class, algebra, bc i wouldnt do my homework, at one point he just stopped giving lunch detention for that bc i wouldnt do it. i hated that class bc the math was boring and i never paid attention but would somehow pull off a’s and b’s on tests so i ended up with a B. my first B, and i had brought that up from a D (told my mom it was almost a C, he gave a really hard test and we all did bad etc, when she had to sign a paper about my low grade) at the end of the year, during the exam i was so confused the whole time, it was my first highschool exam and i didn’t know ANYTHING. i ended up with a 92 from guessing, and a curve, and every one of my friends got at least a 93 or better and i felt so stupid bc i was supposed to be the best at math

i would take every highschool class in honors but not one english class bc it required more essays and summer reading and i knew i wouldnt do the reading and would cry over the essays

the only other class i didnt take honors was chemistry bc i knew the honors teacher had a lot of projects and i would be stressing over them. i ended up with an A in the standard chem class even tho i never finished any work in class and didnt do homework, but i was still the smartest in the class and did the best overall

lunch detention for forgetting to get papers signed like report cards. they weren’t even bad grades i just couldnt remember. one time i got actual detention for forging my moms signature bc i got lunch detention for several days straight bc i kept forgetting to get the paper signed 

often had permission slips waiting to be signed the day before the field trip, or told my mom it was picture day the day before or morning of. one time i totally forgot it was picture day and didnt dress up

acting out and not thinking ab the consequences, many referrals.. many more times that my teachers let me get away with acting out when someone else doing the same thing would’ve been punished. one time anna and i left in the middle of class to go with emma to the library, only emma had permission, and my teacher had anna and i do wall sits instead of going to the office. in gym in middle school i would never dress out. i hated the clothes and hated gym bc i was awkward and if we didnt dress out we had to copy pages out of the health textbook the entire time and i would barely write 2 paragraphs bc i was so bored and my hand hurt and he never did anything ab it. i wouldnt dress out at least twice per week if not more. told my mom I had a C bc he had it out for me but i was the problem

in elementary school if we didn’t come to gym day wearing the right shoes we had to go into the back and pick out a pair of sneakers that fit out of a box of shoes, and also borrow socks if necessary. i had to do this frequently bc i never remembered to wear the right shoes

i would extremely often forget my library books and have to sit on the couch waiting for everyone to pick out their books for half an hour

when we were even younger we’d have story time and you had to sit in the middle of the floor inside a big circle of chairs where everyone else was if you forgot your library books. i lost one at one point for months and my parents didnt just pay for it so i had to sit in the middle every time. we found the book on a shelf somewhere in the house 

my chorus teacher never liked me bc i talked too much and i always felt like the worst singer, not bc of my singing but bc she wasn’t ever nice to me

in 7th grade science we learned latin root words and every day we’d play a game where we all stood up and one by one he’d ask for a root and we’d give it. if you got it wrong on the first round you’d have to write it on a piece of paper x amount of times and turn it in. if you were the last person left you were allowed to sit on your desk for the rest of the year, during these games while everyone else had to stand up. i wanted so badly to sit on my desk, esp bc i was fidgety and couldnt stand still, but i would never study them bc i’d forget or not want to if i did remember, even tho i really wanted to know them and sit on my desk. that teacher had a huge soft spot for me and one day i just started sitting on my desk during those. everyone knew i was smart, and it was all the smart kids who got to sit on their desks, so no one questioned it. im not sure if he knew i wasnt supposed to and just let me, or didnt realize i hadnt won bc i was smart. 

hyperlexia? mom said i could practically read before i was taught. i’ve always obsessively air written, ie writing words out w my finger in the air, on my leg etc. 

esp during lectures i doodle excessively to the point that my papers margins have always been covered with random scribbly overlapped words, or song lyrics. the words are usually something someone in the class said. ive started keeping an extra sheet of paper just for scribbling when im taking notes or listening in class. when we finished end of year tests in school i would write down full lyrics to songs on my scrap paper so i wouldnt be so bored. my hand cramps up so much but it was better than staring or trying to sleep with the lights on 

doing things and forgetting to turn them in

hyperfixating on books to cope w boredom and social anxiety, at one point read one per day, i was definitely one of the most frequent people in the library 

‘ The way I see it is if I can get information into my mind, I can do a lot with it but getting it in there in the first place is the really difficult part.’ - not mine

none of my teachers ever told my mom any of this i dont think, bc i was the smartest and i always got good grades, most had a soft spot for me BUT COULDNT SEE I HAD ADHD like damn. one time my fourth grade teacher whom i liked a lot was mad at us and indirectly calling people out, and referred to the fact that some of us never stopped talking , then made direct eye contact with me and i felt rly embarrassed bc i didnt realize i did that until she mentioned it

i often had to move seats if i was near friends bc i wouldnt stop instigating talking

at big lots when i had to run the register i was so painfully bored , fidgety, had to sneak my phone soo much bc i was so bored. when i was on the floor i would put away the go backs very quickly and then take upon myself a project like going through the entire wall of individual drinks and pulling out all the expired ones, it was like 5 carts full. my manager put me in charge of organizing the entire makeup section and all the gross clearance makeup bc she knew id do it the best and fastest 

when bosses have me do inventory i can count the products super fast and efficiently, but then when they have me put them into a spreadsheet i stare at it for hours getting nothing done bc distracted and its boring. ammar told me if i’d just get off my phone i could get it done bc he’d been asking for it for weeks, i wasnt trying to ignore it 

when im trying to do something at work that needs more concentration, i want to cry with frustration whenever i hear the door chime and have to get up and help customers and break my focus

[listen-to-the-inner-walrus]

Tagged by the wonderful @a-speck-of-the-universe (idek why im doing this other than the fact that i have a sociology essay due i dont want to think about and my phone is playing up)

Name: Rach

Star sign: Taurus

Height: 5″2

Put your music on shuffle, what are the first 6 songs to pop up?

Girl That You Love by Panic! at the Disco So Long Soldier by All Time Low Merry Christmas Maggie Thatcher from the Billy Elliot soundtrack Ireland from the Legally Blonde soundtrack The Phoenix by Fall Out Boy Prologue/Look Down from the Les Misérables soundtrack

Grab the book nearest to you and turn to page 23. What’s line 17?: (if this is meant to be a fictional book, im not doing that because id have to get out of bed, enjoy my sociology textbook) “They found that the use of photographs kept people stimulated and engaged with the project” from the WJES/Eduqas Sociology for A2 & Year 2 by Jane Griffiths and John McIntosh

Ever had a poem or song written about you?: not really? when i was in primary school in like year 3, there was a boy who had a crush on me (lol remember the good times when i had a chance of anyone liking me lmao) who wrote me poems. i got compared to a train a lot idk if thats flattering. feel free to write a train poem about me

When was the last time you played air guitar: like twenty minutes ago? im listening to music alone in my room, what do you expect

Who is your celebrity crush?: dude, that’s a really long list. im really into Arden Cho right now and Tyler Hoechlin’s bunny teeth always kill me. like half an hour ago, i looked up one of my celebrity crushes from when i was 12 (Lulu Antariksa) and im still really into her. 12 year old me pretending to be straight was really super gay and had good taste

What’s a sound you hate? What about love?: Mouth noises? like someone chewing with their mouth open, people chewing gum, etc. i cant do them nope im cringing and tensing up just thinking about it. idk about a noise i love? background chatter if im distracted?

Do you drive? if so, have you ever crashed: no i cannot drive despite having a learners permit thing after like five months of medical exam stuff. i have driven before and ive never crashed but that was more of me being 13, too small to see and therefore driving really really really slow around the holiday attraction thing.

Last book you read: honestly rn idk im not really reading because a levels and university lol kill me, i reread A Monster Calls by Patrick Ness in October because i had an hour or so to kill

Do you like the smell of petrol: idk i dont hate it but im not overly fond of it

What was the last movie you saw: Guardians of the Galaxy Volume 2. Es muy guay, i would recommend.

What’s the worst injury you’ve ever had?: lol hi i had a brain injury after impaling my head on a washing line. i was in a coma for five days, spent another five days in hospital before releasing. the doctors still not sure how im alive and they thought if i managed to survive, id be brain dead but yeah no did not happen. im not brain dead, just a little damaged. ive also ran into barbed wire twice and had stitches the first time, broken and dislocated my elbow falling off a wall and had butterfly stitches just above my eye because i jumped off the same wall backwards with my eyes closed and slammed my head on it.

Do you have any obsessions right now?: I really like Heathers rn and I’m rebinging Criminal Minds

Do you tend to hold grudges against anyone who’s done you wrong?: id like to say no, but i do have a grudge against one person and then another on a friend’s behalf? and i guess i have a grudge against my dad but i think that’s justified considering he told me he’d rather be dead than be my dad numerous time lmao

In a relationship?: no chance, who would want to date me???? lol yeah no

Tagging:

@vyri

@hipsterish666

@aesthetically-shitposting

@221b-unicornstreet

@its-jj-style-bitches

@thesmartbluebox

@aquistelle

and @nicomoru

[freshkookies97]

White Lilies

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Rating: NC-17

Genre: Angst / Romance

Warnings: Hospitalization, mention of minor character death, mention of major character attempted suicide

Word Count: 2.6k

Prompt: BTS Writers’ July Writing Prompt - It’s a hot summer night. Person A and B are neighbors, and both have their windows open. Person A is reading when they hear Person B singing beautifully. What happens next is up to you.

Disclaimer: There is not a major character death.

Song choice: Stigma by BTS

Song © to BTS.

Gif © to the owner.

I hope you enjoy it. (:

The sweet scent of sakura blossoms floated into the room through the breeze fluttering the curtains. Cicadas and grasshoppers sang in the distance, in search of their mate beneath the radiant starlight. Unread books piled in the corners of the room beside your desk cluttered with various sketches and snippets of fictional writing. Your laptop sat amidst the chaos emitting soft, soothing music from its speakers and filling the silence. Your eyes skimmed across the pages of the book you were currently reading, sweat gathering atop your brow as the sweltering heat of summer permeated the room. The duvet beneath you crinkled around the weight of your upright form, clinging to the exposed skin of your thighs and calves. Your tank top and shorts did little in your pursuit of becoming at least a tiny bit comfortable.

At least the paper thin walls of the Japanese summer vacation home allowed the heat to dissipate through the material, decreasing the temperature of the house by a few degrees. Even still, summers were always the worst. Despite this, your family continued to vacation to Japan each scorching season. They always claimed that a change of scenery was required for the brain to regain clarity. Of course, they were right.

However, a problem arose when it became this hot.

Falling asleep in this incessant heat was nearly impossible.

Even reading wasn’t helping.

Reading has always been the most beneficial tool in attempting to fall asleep ever since you were little. Of course, reading in the daylight wouldn’t cause the same reaction, but either reading or being read to at night has always been the most relaxing. Tonight, however, had become the first night that your usual method had failed. With a huff, you snapped the book shut and allowed it to fall onto the bed with a thump. Your eyes scoured the room for another tactic when you suddenly heard a low, deep voice crooning a familiar melody. You crawled across the bed, closer to the window, closer to the source of that beautiful voice. Placing your hands on the windowsill, you leaned over the edge of your bed, your ears focused on his voice.

“Deeper, deeper, the wound just gets deeper Like pieces of glass that We can’t turn back Deeper, my chest hurts everyday The feeble you, who received Punishment for my crime”

That song, those lyrics.

It’s Taehyung!

He wasn’t supposed to arrive until tomorrow.

You’re glad he’s here, but that song…

Where have you heard it?

The lyrics resounded in the caverns of your brain until finally, a memory surfaced, the identity of that song finally being revealed. You fell against the balls of your feet as the recollection consumed all thought, erased the reality of being in the bedroom of your favorite summer home.

It was late summer, early fall. The air began to chill and the leaves started to blend into various shades of red and yellow. Eventually, they would be found beneath someone’s shoe, the snap of their veins echoing in the biting, crisp breeze. Citizens were rarely spotted in the streets. Students’ school uniforms were modified to accommodate the chill. Shops lost business, save for the students that would dart into their stores, seeking shelter, warmth, and always, food. The only people roaming the streets would be those headed to work, school, the hospital, or to the cemetery to mourn the loss of their loved ones. It was there, at the hospital, where Taehyung could be found every day after school. It was one of the few places he would frequent. For him, it was always school, hospital, home, and repeat.

Of course, it wasn’t always this way.

No, not until his grandmother fell ill.

Taehyung became distant, only concerned with buying the prettiest flowers at the nearest florist for his most beloved family member. It was always white lilies. They were her favorite. They were always beside her bed while Taehyung clutched her frail hand, silently praying for her health to replenish. Even in sickness, her humor remained intact. Her jokes would spread a smile on his face, and sometimes, he would even laugh. However, it was always a façade. He was always smiling through the pain for her. Everything was for her.

The forced smiles would continue, until one day, while she was asleep, he was visited by her primary doctor. She had a month remaining to live. That was the day he broke. That was the day the world became grey for him. That was the day he would lose awareness of the things happening around him, even your presence beside him. When you would attempt to speak to him, emotion would be vacant from his eyes. His focus and attention were never on you.

It was always that one spot in the floor that disrupted the pattern in the tile. It was the corner of the room, where his grandmother’s dying lilies sat. It was the red bows adorning your shoes, the diamonds that would decorate them the next day. There were days, however, that he would acknowledge your existence. It wasn’t words of gratitude, though.

No, he lashed out at you. He would scream and holler, demanding to know why you were still with him, why you were visiting his grandmother at all. He wouldn’t wait for your answer. He’d continue, shouting things like “She isn’t even your family,” “You don’t belong here,” and “Just leave me the hell alone!” These outbursts would always end in tears. He’d slowly curl himself into a ball while you consoled him, enveloped him in your embrace until his tears dried. Your own tears would dot his denim jacket, saddened at the sight of your best friend, your first love, in complete and utter agony.

The torment wouldn’t end, though.

Because it wasn’t long until she suddenly passed in her sleep, two weeks later.

That day, he attempted suicide.

On the roof of the hospital, his toes surpassing the edge of the platform as tears freely streamed across his face. You pleaded and pleaded, tears brimming in your eyes, but you bit your cheek. You didn’t want your emotions to affect his decision. It had taken a while before you had finally convinced him to live, for the remainder of his family. His younger sister and brother. It had felt as though a weight had been lifted from your shoulders when he accepted your embrace. That night seemed endless as the two of you talked for hours and hours, about anything and everything. It was a relief to speak with your true best friend for the first time in months. Of course, there was a voice inside your head that told you that it wouldn’t last for long, and it was right, but you were prepared.

A year passed by agonizingly slow, but both of you survived it.

He became himself again. He smiled and laughed, and he made jokes. He even did your hair and makeup for a bet that one of his friends had made. He graduated high school and applied for college. He was actually looking forward to the future he had ahead of him. It was a beautiful experience, watching him fight through the pain and transform into the man he is today. He’s learned how to handle life’s mishaps and that is a lesson that everyone should learn. You’re proud of him, and you’re sure his grandmother is, too.

It was a couple of months after her death that “Stigma” was written.

It was 2 o’clock in the morning. You were hunched over your desk, furiously typing your psychology essay that was due in 6 hours. Your room was actually tidy for once, it always was when you were studying or doing homework. It was the only way you could actually get things done. Your eyes burned from the glare of your laptop in the dimly lit room, your back had started to ache from the arch of your spine. Your fingers and hands began to throb from the speed and duration of your typing. Classical music was quietly reverberating off the walls of your room from your laptop’s speakers, but your ears tuned it out. In fact, you were so engrossed in your essay that at first, you couldn’t even hear the phone ringing.

It took 2 more additional calls until you snapped your attention away to whisk your phone up to your ear, not bothering to check the ID. “Hello?” you impatiently greeted, splitting some of your focus to listen to the caller’s voice. Speaking of their voice, this one was oddly familiar. It was deep, manly, and sent a wave of electricity along your spine. Your scrunched features relaxed when you identified the husky, masculine voice. “Taehyung…” you accidentally whispered under your breath, in an almost seductive tone.

He cleared his throat. “I-um wrote a new song!”

“Really?”

Before you could realize what was happening, his voice changed octaves and he began his song, Stigma. As you attentively listened, tears brimmed in your eyes at the realization of who the song was dedicated to. You bit your cheek to prevent the tears from spilling as your ears focused on his soothing voice. When the last verse was sung, he questioned if you liked it and you exclaimed that you did. It’s not like you were lying. No, you did like it. In fact, you loved it. It was the subject of the song that had you sniffling.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he inquired, concern lacing his voice.

You gave him a weak excuse that night, but he didn’t pressure you for an answer. You bade him farewell, ended the call, and with a sigh, resumed the construction of your essay. Unfortunately, you didn’t finish until 4 o’clock in the morning that day, so you only got 2 hours of sleep, but at least you got it done. The next few months would pass by uneventfully. Other than the flirting you had received from Taehyung every week or so, life was otherwise silent. When college began, your availability diminished and less time was spent with the only man, and love, in your life. You missed him terribly. When you had finished your last class in the spring, you were more than excited for summer break. Finally, you’d be able to see Taehyung again. Finally, you’d have the chance to confess your feelings for him.

You hadn’t even realized you were crying until you felt the tears dot your hands folded in your lap. You chuckled at the unexpected onslaught of tears, swiping them away when you started at the sudden ringing of your phone. Rising from your bed, you strode over to your desk to read the caller ID before answering. As your eyes scanned the name across the screen, you took a deep breath, readying yourself for the incoming conversation.

“Hey, why are you crying?” he immediately asked.

You sniffled again. “Ah, it’s nothing. I’m fine… Uh, Taehyung?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you do me a favor?”

“Of course. Anything for my woman.”

Ah, you hoped to be soon. “Can you sing me to sleep?” you murmured, your cheeks inflaming at his term of endearment. You’ve loved him for years now. You had planned to tell him last year, on the first day of summer break, on the day you’d arrive at the summer home. However, the timing wasn’t right. His grandmother fell ill that day, and you didn’t want to be insensitive. So, you waited and waited and waited until you believed it was finally time, which you deemed to be this week. Yes, this was the week you would profess your love.

“Of course, but how would you feel if I came over and we… held each other?”

Your face immediately flushed as you stuttered an answer. “O-okay…”

He released a breath of relief. “Perfect. I’ll sneak through the back door alright? You don’t have to meet me there. I’ll come to you,” he explained, finishing the call before you could mutter your confirmation.

Your heart began to beat faster, your limbs trembling with excitement at the idea of Taehyung enveloping you in his embrace. However, when your eyes raked in the havoc that was your room, you were flown into a frenzy. You hurriedly tidied the room, gathering the papers on the desk into a pile and tossing clothes into a hamper. You realigned the books along the walls and adjusted the volume on your laptop. You readjusted the duvet on the bed and fluffed your pillows. Just as you finished and spun around on your heel to wait for him, he was already standing in the doorway. His chest heaved with each breath, as though he ran as fast as he could, even though he was just next door. His famous boxy smile stretched across his cheeks as he admired your appearance. You blushed under his gaze, reciprocating his smile as his breath continued to steady.

With a heavy sigh, he strode to where you stood and encircled his arms around your waist, your entire body crashing into his from the sheer force. You eagerly slid your arms around his neck, burying your nose into his neck and inhaling his scent. At the familiar fragrance invading your senses, your body relaxed into his as memories flashed through your mind like a movie.

Memories of the bonfires in the middle of the night, marshmallows roasting on the fire as you excitedly talked about a new book. The guitar that would accompany his deep, soulful voice later that night. The shouts of a nearby baseball game while you two stood in a classroom, surrounded by the stale scent of chalk. The open window beside you that allowed the wind to carry the faint smell of cherry blossoms into the room. It was there that you and Taehyung would share your first kiss.

He wouldn’t remember it later.

Revelling in his aroma, you took a deep breath before removing your head from his neck to gaze into his eyes. His pupils held an unrecognizable emotion, an emotion that was most likely reflected in your own, that caused exhilaration to alight through your veins. The hairs on the back of your neck stood straight as the familiar knot of desire twisted in your stomach. The darkening of his facial features had your mouth falling open and your breath hitching. An overwhelming urge to attack his lips with your own arose, but you attempted to reign it in.

Before you could process the need surfacing from his expression alone, he crashed his lips onto yours. You gasped in surprise, his strawberry taste mingling with the banana lingering on your lips. Your eyes fluttered close as you reciprocated the kiss, your fingers lacing through his hair. His grip tightened around your waist before he abruptly pulled away, his lips glistening as he breathed heavily. “Ah, sorry about that. That was unexpected, wasn’t it?” he breathlessly murmured.

“No, no, it’s fine…” you whispered, embarrassed at your answer.

Abruptly, he separated himself from your embrace and led you towards the bed. “It’s late, so let’s get you to sleep,” he explained as he laid you both on the bed before tugging you closer and tucking you under his chin. One of his hands brushed his fingers through your hair as his free arm was slung across your waist. His fingers in your hair caused you to relax into his touch as he began to sing a low, soothing melody.

The lyrics were familiar, but you were too tired to even attempt to identify their source. As he continued, what transpired merely moments before became a distant memory. The heat became tolerable from the distraction that was Taehyung’s heavenly voice and caresses. Your eyelids grew heavy, your heart steadying as his voice lulled you to sleep. You inched closer, closing the gap further as the world around you began to fade. You were willingly falling into the clutches of sleep, but before you did, you faintly heard a whisper above you.

“I love you.”

[southamericandragnet-blog]

Hi

My names not incredibly important in this part of the essay (be it I never had one.) -- I’m a retiring 2-Star General of the Mossad, responsible for things such as Inventing “Bitcoin”, & defining Satanism, but, those things, as well, aren’t important to me right now .  Id like instead to talk to you about some other things, that I see, and have seen, happened or happening, in our world today, and, why I think its worth a bit of your Concern, your Attention, and your Time, to, understand them Completely, or , as best you can, Please . 

In my life, I’ve done a lot of dirty-work --- Some say, I’m the Worst .  Where I’d like to make a distinction, a - there;s  a saying in the Military (&, golf, ironically) that, when The Best, show up --- you never even know they were there, or, ever wrer there, or ever there were, and so on .  Now, a bit about me, Personally, and, how I’d like to distinguish between “Dirty-Work”, and, “Crime”, and , that difference is , a result of being in America, which we are . 

My, resume, is scattered all the hell about everywhere , and im the most famous person, ... who isn’t famous .  Barring anything else you don’t know yet, there ---- bWell, the World has seen a lot of Violence -- both in its Creation, and , after its created. ... MY .... little “nudge” into that , world of War - dealt with a Comment that I made, when I was in 8th grade, which, was 2001 . ---  (Censored.) So , - the, Order, for 9-11 --- Came from, an AOL Instant Messager account, by th naem of “ psychogolfclub7 . ... -- This ... was slightly earlier, in the Internet’s history, when, there wasn’t So much monitoring, however, there was “Recording” --- or some other strange , associated suffix . ...  -- At this stage of the game (be not alarmed) -- Im, ONLY, and Exorcist -- and, NOT a supporeted one either [Slightly off my game . .. and so on . .. ]

Now, I dont have all the time in the world- so, I have to be Problem Oriented. & , I want you to keep paying attention, so --- What im going to do right now, is post, what is “My Big Secret” --- Its, the Framework , for a code, of Eternal Energy, and it Completly, Bleessed-ley , works --- The , Car, is like the rest of this blog --- Here’s the Key :

So - it , Deals , as an End, to a Journey kinda-to-and-from, a Particular Building, In Pittsburgh Pennsylvania, that has , Uranium in it .  A, Lot of it, at one time -- Its gone, but the place is Radioactive, and, --- It messes , a lot, with a LOT. 

--At one point (Nietzsche) -- “we”, the usa, or some other thing, decided to ---- accept that, and since thn, have been PILING Magical_Spells and Bodies, on its doorstep to be discareded, believer me, I know . ... Now -- I can go into (and am able to go into _Only so far as Things which will HURT you . ... (Sorry- My, sexual - reacion is, So Truly not so Explicit, ... sto... to .. Anything, actually . ) Now, basically, the place exists, BECAUSE it exists, but, for the last Modern, has , bassically been Destroying “Morman / amoebasism”, because it Sucks, for 1, and its Sucks for 2.  

1.. So -- -- AREA 51 --- Is a real place , in hawaii.

2 - The Book Of Revelation ... exists . ...

3 - King Arthur wrote the book of Revelation (In Hawaii.)

4 - The book of revelation ... DOESNT, exist

5 - Words turn to blows, Somewhere . 

--- This is basically, the Argument, of the last 100 years, and, that --- I got so Sick of it, that, in order to find Answers, I stated some HEAVVVYYY Satanism, (Which, is Not logic, and , unfortunately makes you mad, and , unfortunately, for classified reasons, I had to . )) SO -  -- I’m gonna get outta here -- & try to maybe, “Deal” with this stuff, from a Slightly less Hyper-Aggressev - And Totally Armed state . .. from, more a point of Education, than War (Which, is Buddhism in a Nutshell, and - I’m Perfect. ) --- 

And if no one helps me- youll never hear from me again --- Im, That, weak. ..

&, I honestly just dont care to, advance the case, any more, for --- a number of Sacred reasons, ut, for those same sacred reasons, I will not stop listing, in my head, everything that has ever happened or will happen again . 

Thank you very much . 

Blue X Baxter -- Now, the musician, artist, thing --- and, everyone hates that, well fuck you . 

Thank you. 

Yes - And then I spent the rest of High-School Crying, because I was 30 years old.