#and the song still feels very infinite (which is a fear for older groups coming back after a long time that it wont be that way)

[realbyshinee]

i’m literally sooo happy & smiling about the infinite comeback every day btw

[lu-undy]

Chapter 35 - SBT

Here it is!

"Oh, hey there, M, wasn't it?" 

Mundy nodded at the waitress.

"Yeah."

As soon as he had entered the diner, she had recognised him and welcomed him.

"You've missed L, he was there for lunch with Perle, but he's gone now." 

"Ah, I see, but I wasn't lookin' for him. And I don't want to bother him when he's with Pearl. Just wanted some coffee, is all."

"Sure, take a seat." 

Mundy went to the table where him and L had some pancakes the other day, L's usual table. 

"Would you like anything else with your coffee?" 

"Uh… Guess a croissant will do." 

"Alright, I'll be back in a minute!" 

"Thanks, mate." 

And in a minute indeed Victoria was back with not one, but two cups of coffee.

"D'you mind if I take a break with you?" She asked.

"Nah, go ahead." Mundy gestured for her to take a seat and she did, opposite him. "So uh…" He resumed but hesitated. "He came here with Pearl?" 

"Yeah, he takes her for lunch here." 

"Ah, right… So, you've seen her?" 

"Yeah, I did, a few times already. Quite the character she has, eh." Victoria answered. 

"What d'you mean?" 

"She's always on the defensive with people. The only one she tolerates and is in fact fond of, is L."

"Really?"

"Yeah… She can even be aggressive about it."

Mundy raised an eyebrow. 

"But eh," Victoria went on. "I guess it will pass when she grows older."

"She's younger than him?"

"Oh yeah, infinitely younger!" Victoria answered and Mundy blushed. 

"Right…" He continued sipping on his coffee. 

"How long have you known L for?" Victoria asked. 

"Uh… Quite a bit I guess, but not too long, can't really remember."

"Oh, so you didn't know him before he came to Australia?"

"Nah." Mundy answered.

"And you work together?" Victoria asked. 

"Y-yeah, well, we have to." Mundy answered. 

"You don't want it?" 

Mundy raised his eyes to Victoria, behind his yellow tinted glasses, and looked away. He chose not to answer. Victoria let the silence weigh, thinking that he would find it awkward and end up answering, but no. Mundy just wouldn't say anything. 

"He didn't want it." She said and he jerked his head up to look her in the eyes. 

"Did he say that?" Mundy asked. 

"Yep." Victoria sipped on her coffee. "Said both of you and especially him didn't want to work together."

Mundy lowered his head. 

"Guess he's right…"

"But then, I think that he's changed his mind." 

When the words hit Mundy's head, he raised his head again and faced Victoria. 

"He never said it like that but…" She bobbed her head left and right. "You can kind of see it." 

"See what?" He asked. 

"You two get along well." She answered and he blushed. 

"Yeah, well, we have to work together so…"

"So that doesn't necessarily imply that you should get along." She said. "Look here at the diner, I'm stuck with some folks I don't really get along with sometimes, but eh, bills aren't going to pay themselves." 

"Hm. S'ppose so. And uh… Where did you see that we got along? We spend most of our time arguing!" Mundy said.

"You shared pancakes." Victoria answered. 

"Yeah, and?" 

"I serve that man his lunch almost everyday of the week. Never have I seen him share a dessert with anyone."

"Oh, c'mon, he must do it with Pearl from time to time, doesn't he?"

Victoria shook his head. 

"Nope, he doesn't. And even before Pearl's time, he never shared pancakes with me or anyone else."

Mundy held on to that information dearly. His mind ran wild and free, replaying the movie of that afternoon, sharing the pancakes with the Frenchman… Hm, there was something comforting about it.

"Hey, Sir!" 

The child's voice pulled Mundy out of his daydream. The little boy had entered the diner and ran to Mundy's table. 

"You're M, Sir?" 

"Yeah." 

Victoria watched the exchange. 

"Can you come, please? We got sent to get you somewhere." 

"We?" Victoria asked, looking around but seeing only one child. 

"Yeah, sure." Mundy said, he looked at Victoria. "You don't mind? Work's calling." 

"Uh… Sure?" She answered, confused that work was coming in the form of a little kid. 

Mundy paid what he owed and exited the diner, following the child. 

"Where do I need to go?" He asked. 

"Just follow me." The boy answered. 

"Oh, so it's not far." He said.

"Nah, just around the corner… Here." 

They stepped in an alley and the rest of the group of little boys was there. 

"So, what d'you have for me, boys?" Mundy asked.

"This box. It comes from Richard."

The tallest of the children came forward with a large, yet relatively thin box. 

"Oh… Ok… Well, thanks a lot." 

"See ya!" 

The kids ran away from the alley and Mundy went back to the van. He drove away such that Victoria wouldn't see anything and parked again. He hopped at the back of his van and sat down on the old, worn out couch, putting the box on his lap. It was made of glossy white paper and wrapped with a dark blue satin knot. 

"Yep, only bloke posh enough to send me something like that is Richard or L… No that L’s gonna send me anythin’..."

Mundy pulled on the knot and the satin ribbon came loose. He opened the lid and frowned. 

"What the hell…?" 

-- Queen Victoria --

"Good evening, Sir. The usual?" 

"Yes, please."

"Including the coffee?"

"Yeah, please."

"Certainly."

The waiter disappeared and Mundy looked around. There were more and more people around him, the dining area was filling up and the chatter around him floated in the air. It wasn't too loud, thank God, and was just enough to tell him that indeed, he wasn't the only one to make an effort and wear a suit on Saturday.

And what a suit…?

He had never worn anything like it before. It didn't feel tight, neither did Mundy feel strangled by it, or uncomfortably restrained. No, it had been easy to put on, soft against his skin and when he had seen himself on the reflection of the Queen Victoria's windows, as he entered, he didn't recognise himself. That was what that box sent by Richard contained.

The suit was beige, with a white shirt and brown bowtie. The vest and trousers were perfectly cut for him. Well, they were custom-made…!

Something he didn't understand though, was why Richard would send him an extra suit? He was expecting the one for Duchemin's ball, but not this. Hm. 

His dessert and coffee landed in front of him. 

"Ah, thanks." 

He started digging in, although his mind was very much still on the suit. 

"Ladies and gentlemen…!"

Mundy stopped eating sharp and raised his head. He knew the show would really start now. 

"The one and only, the great Lulu!"

People applauded in the audience and the volume was louder than for the previous show. 

"Ah…" Mundy sighed in delight and relief when Lulu appeared, through the red curtains and walked to the microphone. He was a sight to behold, that man, in his pastel blue suit and beige bowtie. He looked like an ang- 

"No, bloody hell…" Mundy shook his head.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Lulu started. "Thank you again for the letters, I appreciate the kind words and would like to reiterate my thanks." 

A wave of applause rolled in the audience. 

"Secondly, I took the liberty of changing tonight's song."

Mundy leaned back. He didn't care what the man sang, he knew that whatever it would be, it would get to him. Lulu went to the piano and started playing at the same time as the violins. 

And when he started singing, Mundy got flushed and blushed, the singer was closing his eyes, the movement of his eyebrows betrayed what burnt inside him, the meaning of the lyrics that Mundy barely got. And the hunter stared at the artist, at his sensitivity, how openly he was sharing what he had inside without being judged or without fear of people looking at him differently for whatever he was saying. 

That was a luxury that Mundy couldn't afford. 

He squinted, all slouched on his seat, resting his jaw on his palm with his elbow on the table. The lights in the dining area were low but the spotlight on Lulu shone bright, even his hair was shining, a bit like silk. 

Gosh…

Lulu's lips were a hairwidth away from the microphone and Mundy sighed on his seat. He was jealous of that silver steel, cold microphone… Oh he wished. He wished he could be the one those words, whatever their meaning, were sung to. He wished he could have someone he could hold against him now, he wished he could be held, he wished he could find again what it meant to live and not survive, he wished…

He wished killing Duchemin didn't mean to be tracked and his days counted down as a certain and imminent death would take him away. He wished he could stay alive after all this, just… At least to hear Lulu again, but this time, without feeling like those concerts, those moments of peace  were more and more rare as his own fingers were closing on Duchemin's throat.

Nah, Mundy as always could but wish. He had spent his life doing that. Wishing. Wishing to get out of school, wishing for his parents to give him a sibling, wishing to get a bit of money to help them out, wishing he could live like a proper adult, far from them, but knowing that it was tearing him apart, wishing his father could make the effort and understand him, wishing that he could have been there to help them, to save them. And now, wishing he could over-live, live beyond his final stop. 

And why?

For those silver eyes, hidden behind a veiled curtain of long, black eyelashes, for that slim, hooked nose, in the middle of masculine cheeks, the cheekbones jutting just slightly, just what they should, a well defined jaw, a smooth jawline. And then there were two thin lips, the most delicate lips in the world, and no doubt the softest; lips from which the sounds of an exquisite agony came out, the delicious pain and luxury of thinking about one's own feelings, as if one didn't have any other problems in the world but the waves and storms in his own insides...

Mundy's tired eyes blinked slowly and his eyelids fell halfway through his irises. The waves inside him were rolling and softly crashing on the shore. His insides were warm, the flickering flame of Lulu's voice was so powerful. 

"Je suis un homo,

[I am a man-oh/homo]

Comme ils disent."

[As they say.]

Gosh. Mundy straightened his back in a flash, splaying his hands flat on the table. He might have understood that sentence. Oh my God, he just might! Ha, listening to that Solitude song on loop in the van made him pick up a few words and expressions. 

But how on Earth was Lulu able to sing that? Where did he get that courage, that foolishness, that madness from? If Mundy had understood well, he had just admitted to… liking men. Not only that, Mundy already knew of that, nah, he had sung that in a room that could hardly be more full of people. 

Mundy looked left and right. And what kind of people? Only the respectable, the custom-made suits, the dresses with matching hats, the expensive make-up and even more wealthy style of life… 

And yet, Lulu had just sang it. He said it powerfully, yelled it in the room for everyone to hear loud and clear. No, no, no, the more Mundy thought it, the more certain he became. Yes! Yes, he had just said that! Mundy's French from his days at school were very poor rudiments now, but he remembered it. Je suis means I am. Je suis un homo then surely meant… It meant…

Mundy looked again left and right, his head twisting and turning. People's faces were still watching the singer and the performance as if nothing had just happened. Was he the only one to have understood that? Was he the only one who had cared about the lyrics and actually tried to understand? Why was no one offended? Why was no one caring? Why was no one making a scandal right there and then, and leaving the place slamming the door?

Mundy's eyes came back to Lulu. 

"Bloody hell… He really meant…" 

The singer's tears were visible. He had tried to swallow them back and keep a bit of dignity, but no. The truth he was singing split him in halves, the two halves of a tortured soul. Each half had prepared one single tear, and they now raced down his cheeks, as he screwed his eyes shut, as if that would make him disappear off of everyone's sight. 

The song ended and people applauded loudly. Mundy didn't. He was paralysed on his seat, awestruck. Lulu opened his eyes and looked through the crowd. Good God, his eyes were a shade of blue that was so light under the spotlight… 

"Bugger." 

It seemed to Mundy that Lulu was staring in his direction. The Frenchman's eyebrow twitched, his lips parted as if he had wanted to say something in the microphone. Mundy was hanging off of his very lips, waiting for him to tell him. What was it, Lulu? J-just say it…!

The singer lowered his head, his cinder front lock of hair falling between his eyes, and he stood up, leaving the stage with a hand on his face. He didn't even thank his audience.

The lights got back on in the dining area and Mundy fell back on his chair. He exhaled in an unusually long sigh. Bloody hell, he had been holding his breath all along and didn't realise it. 

"Gosh…" 

It took him long minutes to get a normal and steady breath back. Mundy's eyes fell on his plate. He hadn't finished his dessert, so he got back to the chocolate cake. But he didn't feel its taste. His mind was racing. Why did Lulu change the song of tonight's show to sing that one? Why did he insist on that one? Why did he cry? Was it just something he did all the time when he sang? Mundy remembered that he had shed a tear singing about Solitude. Was it all for show? What did it all mean?

"Wait." 

Mundy raised his head off his piece of cake and frowned. Why the hell did he care? Why did he feel like he should care about that man's feelings and whatever the hell was going through him? Mundy hated people and the less time he spent with them, the better. People were complicated, people lied, people were all over the place! 

He finished his cake and drank his coffee but felt neither the sweetness of the first, or the bitterness of the second. He wiped his mouth on the napkin and wiped his hands. Wait, what? His hands?

Mundy looked at his hands and rubbed them together. They were sweaty…? That's new. 

"Alright, alright… I'll do it." 

He stood up and headed straight for where he knew Lulu would be. He went through the backstage area without being stopped by anyone. He slithered through straight to the door with the name of the man he wanted to have a chat with. He raised his hand and turned his knuckle to the door. Nothing. He couldn't knock. 

Take a deep breath. 

Mundy shook his head. He heard L's voice in his head. And in his great anxiety, it soothed him. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes, and on his shut eyelids, he saw the masked man he shared pancakes with. 

His fingers worked faster than his head and he knocked at the door. He heard nothing for a few seconds that felt much longer. 

"Who is it?"

"Uh… I don't know if you remember me… I'm uh, I'm M." 

The door opened in a flash. Lulu was livid. 

"Uh, a-are you alright? You look pale." Mundy said. 

The Frenchman stayed frozen for a minute or so. 

"Uh, can we come in maybe?" 

Lulu took a deep breath, and let his guest in. He closed the door after him. 

"What brings you back here?" Lulu gulped down some water and Mundy noticed the shirt whose first button was open and the absence of bowtie.

"I uh… I wanted to ask something." 

"When do you not?" 

Mundy lowered his head. 

"I uh… Sorry, look, you don't have to listen to me ramblin', I can just go away." He answered. 

"Non. Tell me what you wish to know." Lulu motioned him to sit down on his sofa.

"What you sang today," Mundy took a seat. "Did you just say that-"

"Ah, so you understood?" Lulu interrupted and asked as he sat down. His eyes were everywhere but on the Aussie's face. 

"I-I think I did. But how could you-?"

"What is this suit…?" Lulu's gloved hand hovered to Mundy's jacket, on his chest.

"Oh, that? To be honest, I never asked for it but uh… I just got it." 

"It suits you." 

"Really?" 

"Oh absolutely, please stand up for a second." 

Mundy did so, not questioning anything. 

"Yeah?" 

"Mon Dieu…" Lulu covered his face with his hands. He was breathing heavily and lowered his head.

"A-are you alright? You seem a bit sick or something?" Mundy said, sitting back down. 

"Oui, non, it's fine. This evening and the past few days were tiring. A lot of work has decided to suddenly weigh on my shoulders."

"Oh, sorry to hear that." Mundy answered. 

"Well, it's not your fault, not entirely." 

"Not entirely?" 

"Well, I did have to prepare this show. Who do you think I do all this for?" Lulu motioned his hands around his face, his suit and everything around him.

"Ah, yeah, for folks who come to hear you, eh." 

"Oui and non."

Silence fell and Mundy didn't ask the singer to explain himself. 

"Can I say something else?" Mundy asked. 

"May I say something else? Your grammar, unlike your style tonight, leaves a great deal to be desired." Lulu said, removing his hands from his face. He was smiling softly. 

Mundy grinned back. 

"Well… I'm bad with words, sorry." 

"Go ahead, ask me." 

"It's not really a question. I wanted to say thanks." Mundy said. 

"What for?" 

"For giving your tickets to the party to L." 

"Ah." Lulu leaned back on his sofa. "You are welcome. So he is taking you?"

"Yeah, well," Mundy blushed. "It's for work." 

"Still," Lulu answered. "I would have given actual money to see him ask you." 

Mundy cleared his throat to make the embarrassment pass. 

"Anyway, it is a coincidence that we know the same man." 

"Yeah. A bit wild, eh?" 

Lulu chuckled. 

"Indeed. He talked to me about you." 

"Whatever he said to you," Mundy said. "Chances are it's all wrong."

"Why?" Lulu asked. 

"We uh… We came into contact a bit by chance, for business really."

"Don't you get along?" Lulu asked. 

"I don't know. I think we're uh, we're doing what we need to." 

"That is not his version." Lulu added. 

"Yeah, well, no surprise. The bloke's arrogant and so posh."

Lulu chuckled again. 

"You misunderstood me. He feels that you get along well." 

"We bicker and fight all the time!" Mundy said and Lulu shrugged. 

"It suits him, the way you two work." The singer said. "What about you?" 

Mundy looked away and frowned. 

"Hm." 

"You do not wish to share?" Lulu asked. 

"Don't know." 

"Or maybe you do wish to share too much." 

Mundy pulled the hat deeper down on his head to hide his blush. 

"Yeah, well… He's uh… He's ok. We make it work." He finally said. 

"Let me tell you that it is a first for him since, hm, two, three decades maybe." 

"What d'you mean?" 

"He always has worked solo. He hates having to rely on others because others have failed him a lot. Non, he likes to have control."

"What is his job anyway…?" Mundy asked.

"If he told you, he would have to kill you." Lulu gave him one of those mysterious smiles that punched Mundy in his guts. 

"Gosh, you really sound like one another." Mundy shook his head.

"You mean the accent?" 

"Not only the accent, also the way you both talk. It's the same."

"We also look alike quite a bit." Lulu added. 

"Yeah, you have the same eyes and very similar overall face shape. You're about as tall as each other. L might be a bit taller." 

"Non, that is his ego." Lulu smirked mockingly.

Both chuckled. 

"He said you were the arrogant one." Mundy said. 

"Of course he would. But non, don't believe what that man says, he is definitely more disdainful than me." 

"Pfff…" 

They took a second to laugh it off. 

"He likes your company." The French accent sung and Mundy's ears pricked up. His head spun to Lulu in a flash.

"You have your way with people, M." Lulu continued. "You say you are bad with words but it is with your words on the letter that we met. Your words did intrigue me. And straight away, we shared some quite intimate things about each other. Non, you might be bad with words but you have some great emotional intelligence." Lulu said. 

"Hm." Mundy looked away. 

"And it even got to a man as cold as L. Quite the feat, really."

Mundy looked at Lulu again. 

"I haven't seen that man like someone's company for… Last time it happened, he was a completely different man."Mundy and Lulu's eyes locked. 

[defdaily]

MEN’S FOLIO - Leading the Pack: JB in our March 2019 Issue

Formed barely five years ago, GOT7 already has numerous Korean and Japanese albums under its belt. This is no easy feat considering the amount of music the band has written on top of going on promotional tours and performing concerts. If passion were not fuelling the group on this strenuous journey, that fire would have been snuffed out sooner than later.

Curious to know more about this seemingly infinite fountain of fervour, Men's Folio scored an opportunity to work with its magnetic leader, JB. Perhaps no other GOT7 member might embody the intense passion other than JB a check on his CV reveals his extensive past projects from acting to music  production.

"I want to be known as someone who can show various works in different areas of art, not in a specific area. I hope to try different things, tell the stories I want to tell, while producing something fun and cool," shares JB. It is this endearing curiosity for life that sees the multi-hyphenate throwing himself headfirst into his various projects.

One would think that with JB's success, his focus might be somewhat macroscopic, but we had a first-hand experience of the immense dedication that he pours into every activity- this cover shoot included.

The discussion started with the clothes that he wanted to wear. JB arrived at the set, took a look at the rack of Spring/Summer "19 assortment, and went straight to work. Naturally, JB exercised his preference, but being the cover star of the season's most important issue (our 200h issue, no less), I wanted to showcase his versatility, and we continued to refine the creative process.

The pictures that you see in this feature are a pleasant departure from his usual style, born from the spirited collaborations between all the creatives involved. JB sat down with the crew to sift through all the images and handpicked his final choices. The intensity of the collaborative process was heightened during one of the selections when JB turned to me and asked for my preference. I replied, and then his affirmation came in crisp English, "I think so too. I like that too!"

No amount of words can express the type of joy that can be experienced when various creative minds come together and agree upon a collaborated final product, especially when that brilliant mind is from someone as passionate as JB.

Perhaps attributing all his success to passion alone might be a tad excessive, but positivity in JBs life is definitely present. During the cover shoot, fellow band member Yugyeom expressed his desire to be present on set to encourage JB, even though he was not involved.

From this gesture, it can be seen that GOT7 is a very tight-knit group. There are even upcoming plans for both JB and Yugyeom to launch a subunit called JUS2. We asked JB where he sees himself five years from now. "I will be older, so I will continue working on music, and if my body allows, I will dance. Still working but hoping for an easy-going and optimistic life." There is no doubt that passion courses through JB's blood, and there seems to be no stopping him from achieving all he desires. For all we know, we might see him on our cover for our 250h issue.

What have you been busy with recently? 

JB: I'm super busy nowadays. I have been busy working on my unit album and preparing for activities and tours.

The Korean Wave is one of the most influential trends in the world right now, and you have fans across the world regardless of language barriers. What do you think about this trend?

JB: I think the Korean Wave is a very good thing. It is great and meaningful to be able to share our culture. In addition, I realise that I want to learn various languages, and I believe this is a good opportunity to share the Korean language.

What do you think makes good music?

JB: I am still not sure. I had prior experiences when songs that I really liked and considered good were received as "so-so". Also, some songs that I felt questionable about were very much liked. I contemplate over the definition of good music every time. However, right now, I think good music is when an idea has been precisely expressed, and the listeners could sympathise and be comforted by the music at a certain point of time. However, I also think we should not be overly focused on the listeners.

How would you describe your singing voice?

JB: When I was young. I didn't really have an idea about my voice colour. When people around me talked about what's a good voice colour and what is not, I could not easily agree with them. Thinking about it now, I think I like the voice colour if I like listening to it. I think it is good if one can express things in his or her own way since each voice colour has its unique charm.

Therefore, I used to ask myself if my voice colour is nice. I just thought that if my voice colour is nice, it is a good thing. However, as I learn more in-depth about music, I feel that I like my voice colour lesser and lesser.

We understand that you are a frank person. How do you think this personality serves you in life?

JB: When I was young. I realised that being frank and straightforward could hurt someone else's feelings. However, I am really an honest and frank person, so it was hard to change… Nowadays, ifI need to be honest about things in a bad way, I just keep quiet for the sake of the other person. Ijust don't tell the person if he or she is correct or wrong.

However, for things that I cannot let go and for the benefit of the other person, I think of the best possible way to talk to that person in an honest and gentle manner. And so, it is hard for me.

If you were not a celebrity, what do you think you would be doing?

JB: Probably a normal person. What would I be doing? I think I would have continued music and dance as a hobby. I would have done something I could do in the area of art.

As a singer, how is fashion important to you?

JB: I think fashion is important as it makes singers stand out; I think it is one of the important factors. It is important to create an image for a singer, andI believe fashion helps in doing so.

As an artist, how important is social media to you?

JB: To me, it is a medium of communication with my fans. I think it is an opportunity to share about my personal preferences, which I think is important.

The theme of this 200h issue is "Big". What is your biggest dream?

JB: To live happily, freely, and be carefree.

How about your biggest fear?

JB: I'm worried that I'm going to stop. I want to flow continuously, but it feels like I will be stuck somewhere and have to stop at some point.

What is your biggest achievement so far?

JB: I think my biggest achievement is writing GOT7s title song. In my opinion, my team's (voice) colour was well aligned with the title song I wrote. However, I'm still working hard for greater achievements. In your opinion, what are the most important principles in life? Being honest with yourself and having conversations with yourself often.

More at https://www.mens-folio.com/47262/leading-pack-jb-march19-issue/#esLJGjS7HfoBS6OB.97 

[a-cai-jpg]

this is a very stilted post.

I have a collection of songs that make me cry.

I'm not in the habit of playing them very often. I don't even save them in my YouTube favorites, or my wormhole of a Spotify account. I kind of leave it up to fate for the familiar melody and lyrics to find me again, and on days where I feel especially brave, I'll queue it up on a drive. But only on a drive.

I watched a variety show about songwriters a few months back, and one of my favorite contestants said something along the lines of, "I think everyone has a theme that they just can't touch."

Sometimes, it's because the pain is still too raw. Sometimes, it's because we're too fearful to truly reckon with the sorrow, unwilling to drink it in, let it roll around in our mouths as the bitter flavor penetrates our tongue, and feel it burn on the way down.

I don't listen to the songs often because I'm afraid I'll become desensitized, that the most humane and most compassionate part of me will become numb.

But also because I'm not in the business of seeking out pain.

I used to be obsessed with tragedy, chasing it with a sort of masochistic relish because I thought you could never be as human as you were when you cried. It's kind of like why people really like those sad, touching Thai commercials that make you bawl your eyes out without fail every time.

But as I grew older, I realized there really is something that I can't touch. Sometimes, I tongue the edges of it, prodding with caution, but only on very, very rare occasions do I peel away the protective layer. There are some things I can't watch, can't listen to too closely, or else I'll feel myself unravel around the edges.

And not gonna lie, but now is not a time I'm willing to tug at the ends of the thread. So instead, I'll let a past me do that.

When I was a sophomore in university, I submitted a monologue for the annual Asian cultural show. It was submitted anonymously, because at the time, it wasn't something I was ready to talk about.

(it still isn't, but i have gotten more practice talking about it in the years that have elapsed.)

See, what had happened was, I was watching Moon Lovers: Scarlet Heart Ryeo (disappointment of my life, sorry the Chinese version is better even though the Korean cast is bEaUtIfUl), and suddenly, I had a mini-panic attack about death.

It was the dumbest thing. I was watching Park Soondeok try to woo Wang Eun, and the silly girl--bless her heart--hunted a whole bear to express her love for him. I remember the scene had startled me, because she popped on screen with a bear skin covering her body. And I was like, "Uh that's like, a lot of bad karma right."

And I don't really know how karma works, but I suddenly remembered something that my grandmother had said a long time ago. She said that she was a sinner, because she's "killed" so much for our family.

In Chinese, the words she used were 杀生, which literally means "kill life" but generally, animal life.

She said it because she is the main chef of our family. Whenever she visited China, our family would go through a bit of crisis because that meant either my grandfather cooked or my mom's boyfriend cooked.

Once, my grandfather served me Palmier cookies and the same fried rice we'd eaten for a week for dinner. Often, my mom's boyfriend chopped up carrots and celery to dip with ranch for dinner.

It was great.

(no, but our family barely functioned when my grandmother was gone. those six months would be us sitting silently around the dinner table, daring each other to be the first to try a dish.)

Weirdly, that little thing she said stuck with me. And in that moment, sophomore year of college, sitting in my top bunk watching Scarlet Heart Ryeo, I panicked.

I can't really dissect why I panicked. But the result was this ridiculous plan that I had to stop eating meat for the rest of my life to collect all the good karma for my grandmother.

(yeah, so that didn't last because I literally got sausages that weekend cus hello, continental breakfast.)

It wasn't that I never thought about death or my family members dying before then. In the second grade, I read a story about the friendship between a squirrel and a leaf, and cried and cried and cried when the story ended and the leaf died, not because the leaf died but because the leaf promised to be reborn, and would be reborn at the turn of the year, but humans wouldn't be.

But for some reason, all of the separate moments of panic and fear dispersed over a decade culminated in that moment, as I watched Soodeok pull the bearskin off of her head, and I started crying so hard I couldn't breathe.

So I wrote a monologue. The original draft was very, very long and very, very detailed, and I probably went through half a box of tissues writing it. I eventually cut it down and didn't save the first copy because I never wanted to read it again.

The theme of the monologue comes up every time I talk about my Chinese American identity. It comes up in personal statements, in creative narratives, in discussion groups, and in the Facebook likes I dish out whenever I see a relevant Subtle Asian Traits post. It's the sense of biculturalism and the accompanying endeavor to somehow reconcile my reality with that of my immigrant parents and grandparents. It's the weary acceptance that ultimately, there may be no reconciliation, and all that's left is regret.

Whenever someone asks me what my favorite food is, I would say spring onion noodles. But this is the funny part--I will never order them in a restaurant. Some time in middle school, I went on a family trip with my extended relatives in China. Every time we stopped to eat, my aunt would order me a bowl of spring onion noodles because she knew I loved it so much, and every time, I would make a face and say, "Grandma does it better."

See, I don't know if she actually does. I just knew I liked hers more.

After my grandmother returned to China, I started making spring onion noodles myself, because it tasted more like home even if I never got it right.

I also really like dumplings. My grandma makes the best dumplings, but I'm afraid to ask her to make them, because the last time I did, they were too salty. Now, I'm afraid to ask her to make spring onion noodles too, because maybe my memories tasted better than the real thing.

But the real, real reason I'm scared is that I'm scared she's getting old. I'm scared her tastebuds are not the same as they were when she lived in Monterey Park, cooking in our second floor kitchen.

In my senior year of college, I called my grandmother for the first time on my own. The moment I heard her voice, staticky over the long distance call, I started crying, and it was stupid because I had to pretend I wasn't crying and I was trying to talk normally and it was awful because it was the kind where your voice came in hiccupy stutters, and she definitely knew I was crying because she kept asking, "Why did you call? What's wrong?" while acting casual, for my sake.

When I was in the eighth grade, I was walking a friend's German Shepherd that ended up dragging me across the pavement in the park. It's a story I tell a lot, because it is truly hilarious in hindsight, but the ending goes like this:

I go home crying, because my glasses broke and I have cuts on the back of my left hand and down my face. I take a bath, something I grew out of doing years ago, and my grandmother doesn't reprimand me. She sits next to me and speaks in that vaguely disapproving voice of her, the tone of so many old Asian ladies, and tells me that life is hard and you will meet people that you don't get along with, but you just have to suck it up. And I start crying harder, because she cared.

That day, she also followed me from the front door of our house to my mom's master bathroom, asking, "What's wrong?"

We talk a lot about the Chinese zodiac in our household, more when my grandmother and grandfather still lived with us, but my aunt brought it up a few days ago. In the Chinese zodiac, the ox and the sheep are foils to each other--me and my grandmother. When I was little, I would say, "Ugh, this is why we fight so often." A few days ago, my mom said, "That's why you and grandma never got along," and I stayed silent.

I sometimes tell people that my grandmother is more like my mother figure, and my mom is more like an older sister. And my mom hates it. But, it's because everything that others associate with an Asian mom, I associate with my grandmother. All the memes about immigrant mother bringing their children peeled and cut fruit are about my grandmother, fending off my complaints about having to eat apples every single day, and stubbornly bringing me sliced apples and pears. All the stories about immigrant parents expressing their love through the words "Come eat. Food is ready," is my grandmother who singlehandedly kept her family together through sheer will and a kitchen stove.

Sometimes, when I'm brave enough to talk to people about how I feel about her, I would say that I would gladly give her half of the rest of my life, just so we can leave together. I'm scared her life would be less than perfect, and I wish I made money earlier so I can take her to Cambridge and Rome, but I'm also scared that I'm selfish and weak and unable to give her what she really wants.

Anyways.

Four tissues later, here's the monologue:

I am obsessed with time.

I am obsessed with time, but I hate the way the second hand moves relentlessly in an endless loop on the face of an old clock. I am obsessed with time, but I hate the way the mention of it tightens my throat, squeezing until the pressure travels to my heart and lungs, and finally settling somewhere deep in my gut.

I was told that time is linear. The Second Law of Thermodynamics. Chaos and disorder grow infinitely—there is no going back.

When I was little and time was but a tiny grain of sand in a large, foreboding hourglass, I believed in guardian angels. They were the ones who caught me tumbling from a swing, having flown too high on my too weak wings. They were the ones who waited outside the gates of my elementary school—a familiar face of comfort floating amidst a crowd of foreign visages. They were the ones who promised me plates and plates of hand-wrapped dumplings, and most importantly, they were the only ones who could cook spring onion noodles with a sunny side up egg the way I liked it, and no restaurant could ever hope to get the taste just the same.

But also, when I was little, I believed that guardian angels existed outside of time. They were immortal, they gave me life. But as the number of years they conferred to me increased, they seemed to become more and more human.

Sometimes, I’d blink, and for a terrifying moment, I’d catch glimpse of an elderly couple, backs hunched and hair splattered with grey, standing in my kitchen.

This is me, a girl obsessed with time. I had the liberty of being born and raised in the United States. My Chinese immigrant parents labored long days at work, and my grandparents were given the roles as my primary caretakers.

My grandfather was the quiet one, a retired electrical engineer who made it his mission to somehow teach me to love mathematics. My grandmother was the loud one, previously a librarian—the irony, I know—who never went to college but could calculate prices of groceries faster than I could pull out a calculator. I grew up dancing around their peculiar dynamic, seesawing back and forth between going ant-watching with my grandfather as I recited the Chinese timestables and trying to finish too many platters of food my grandmother piled in front of me as she told me stories of life back in China—in the good old days.

Growing up in California, it was inevitable that I saw the United States as home to both me and my family. It was where I had spent nearly two decades of my life—and where my mother, grandmother, and grandfather had spent nearly two decades of their lives.

And yet, two decades was not nearly enough time. Space could not be reconciled, and time was rendered obsolete.

Home, for them, was not our little town in the suburbs of LA. When my father passed away, my mother said, “We don’t have enough money to bring him home.” She’d said it carelessly in front of me, perhaps thinking 6-year-old me wouldn’t notice, let alone understand. But 6-year-old me did. Home, I realized, for them wasn’t home for me.

The thought was terrifying. I realized that there will come a time, when I’d return home, and it wouldn’t be the same place my mother, my grandmother, and my grandfather returned to.

I began to play with the idea of condensing time and space. How great it would be, if home was simultaneously California and China. Time differences, traveling time, the Pacific Ocean would be utterly abolished, and our hearts would return home together.

But time flew by and the pile of sand grains at the bottom of the hourglass grew without my noticing. I hadn’t yet the chance to tell my grandparents about my meditation on time and space, and suddenly, my grandfather decided to return home. Time had seemed to warp, fastforwarding the years I’d taken for granted, and now refusing to slow down.

Here’s the thing—I do not wish to be selfish. I want my family to be happy—to return home—but I am terrified that my own fragile notion of home will shatter in return.

Because the reality is, home isn’t physical space. Home is, in all truthfulness, time. Time I’d spent with my family, and the years I have left to spend with them.

I’d let time slip through my fingers as I tried to come up with this theory of “home.” I’d tried to condense “home” into a condominium, apartment D, a large peach tree shading the backyard. Yet now, the tree has been cut down, and my mother speaks of moving to a city forty minutes away. What then, I ask myself, is home?

Home is the promises I’d made to my grandparents—promises I’m no longer sure I can keep because I cannot cover large enough distances with so little time. Home is the way I could never tell them “I love you,” and the regret that builds in my heart as I realize that home is a ticking time bomb that threatens to throw the world into chaos. Entropy increases. Things fall apart.

In a little bit, home will be too many miles away, too many hours away, for me to return to. Home will be in a foreign city surrounded by a peculiar amalgamation of unfamiliar modernity and history she’d lived through. Home will be on the opposite shore of an ocean I cannot swim across, with no one to cook spring onion noodles for.

I am a girl obsessed with time. I’d been blessed with a lot of time, and yet, I’d tossed it all out of the window of my second story bedroom. I am a girl obsessed with time, and I’d trade in my soul for it to reverse, so I can make home a little more concrete, a little more happy, a little more lasting. I am a girl obsessed with time, and when I wake up 2:30 in the morning, I think I can see the sands rushing down the chute of the hourglass, and the sight of it tears me apart.

I am a girl obsessed with time, and I would like to apologize to my beloved mother, grandmother, and grandfather for taking so much of it for granted. If I had another run at these eighteen years, I only hope to reach this conclusion sooner and fulfill my promises.

Dear grandma and grandpa,

I am a girl obsessed with time. Every day, I pray to God to give you a little more. How had the time flown by so quickly? Was yesterday not the day you brought me on the airplane for the first time? I can still taste the juice of the grapes a stranger had given us—snacks for the little girl—in the back of my tongue. Yet now I’m no longer the toddler you held in your arms. Grandma and grandpa, time is rushing by on a train I cannot seem to catch. Will you forgive me for reaching our home a little too late?

Love.

(i included my favorite part in a creative narrative project i did for a class in college. if you want to hear it in my voice: here.) (pls don’t click for the sake of my voice bc i sound like a literal duck. click for my grandparents wandering around hangzhou.) (also, if it is different its cus i tried to fit it in somehow with a longer poem i was writing.) (i don’t like poems.)

The reason I wrote this isn't that I wanted to pick at a scab. I heard a song recently, from the same songwriter variety show, that I had blindsided a few months back. I heard it at around 1 am in the morning, and I cried.

Here is the collection of songs:

橘子 by 邓见超

考试考得好不好啊？ how did you do on your test? 有没有拿到大红花 did you get the big red flower? 老师夸我是个乖仔啊 my teacher said i was a good kid 奶奶自己保重圣体吧 grandma, take care of yourself 长大了 出息了 要晓得回家 when you grow older and do big things, remember to come home 别忘了这里的青山和路弯 don't forget the green mountains and windy roads here 记得要带一瓶辣椒在身上 remember to bring with you a bottle of peppers 还时常跟妈妈报平安 and often let your mom know you're doing fine ... 房子旁两棵树都被砍掉了 the two trees by our house have been cut off 墙上还贴着小时候的奖状 my childhood awards are still plastered on the walls 一个字一个字 好像昨天啊 each word, each word, like it was just yesterday 宝贝儿子啊 吃饭了 son, it's time for dinner 再不回家妈妈要教训你了 if you don't come home now, mom's going to be mad 这个淘气的孩子跑去那里玩了 this mischievous kid, where did he go? 找他都找不到人了 i'm looking for him, but i can't find him.

一荤一素 by 毛不易

一张小方桌 有一荤一素 a small, square table with one vegetable and one meat 一个身影从容地忙忙碌碌 a figure good-naturedly bustling about 一双手让这时光有了温度 a pair of hands allowed this time some warmth 太年轻的人 他总是不满足 the one who is too young, he's not satisfied 固执地不愿停下 远行的脚步 stubbornly unwillingly to stop the footsteps traveling far away 望着高高的天走了长长的路 looking at the far, far sky; walking a long, long road 忘了回头看 她有没有哭 he forgot to turn around to see if she's crying 月儿明 风儿轻 >the moon is clear, the wind is light 可是你在敲打我的窗棂 is it you, knocking on my window? 听到这儿你就别担心 now that you've listened till here, please don't worry 其实我过的还可以 actually, i'm doing okay ... 你又可曾来过我的梦里 have you been to my dreams lately? 一定是你来时太小心 you must've been too careful when you came 知道我睡得轻 knowing that i sleep lightly 一定是你来时太小心 you must've been too careful when you came 怕我再想起你 afraid i'll miss you

父亲 by 筷子兄弟

时光时光慢些吧不要再让你变老了 time, time, please slow down. don't let you grow any older 我愿用我一切换你岁月长留<<br>i'm willing to trade everything i have for more years and months for you ... 微不足道的关心收下吧 please accept my inadequate care for you 谢谢你做的一切双手撑起我们的家 thank you for holding up our family with your hands 总是竭尽所有把最好的给我 always doing everything to give me the best ... 我是你的骄傲吗还在为我而担心吗 am i your pride? do you still worry for me? 你牵挂的孩子啊长大啦 the child you think of has grown up now.

时间都去哪了 by 王铮亮 (this is a cover)

时间都去哪儿了 where has all the time gone? 还没好好感受年轻就老了 haven't even truly experienced youth, and i'm already old 生儿养女 一辈子 took care of children my entire lfe 满脑子都是孩子哭了笑了 all i can hear is the cries and laughter of children 时间都去哪儿了 where has all the time gone? 还没好好看看你眼睛就花了 haven't even looked at you carefully yet, and my vision is already blurring

if only... by ozi

如果可以把時間退後 if i can rewind time 別讓命運把妳給帶走 i won't let fate take you away 對妳能說著我最近做些什麼 i want to be able to tell you what i've been doing these days 希望別再錯過 i hope i won't miss it again 如果可以讓我跟她說 if only i can just tell her 願意付出我所有為了 i'm willing to trade everything i have 能換一點時間just to see you again for a little time just to see you again 別再擔心著我 so you don't have to worry about me anymore

[borisbubbles]

Eurovision 2010s: 15 - 11

15. Ieva Zasimauskaitė - “When we’re old” Lithuania 2018

[2018 Review here]

~wen wir owld HOOOOOOOOOOOO~

So close to the endgame it’s time to open all of the emotional registers. Much like Hovi, I did not expect to love Ieva as much as I do, however unlike Hovi I had already fully embraced Ieva and “When we’re old” long before rehearsals started.

And for good reason because Ieva fucking disarms me every time without fail. She herself is of course a hilarious, relatably weirdo indie girl, this time in the guise of a Born Again Hindu who ~FELT A COSMIC PRESENCE~ on the stage with her. 😍 Telling the true story of how she overcame depression by falling in love with her hubby. Flanked by holograms that project Ieva’s life dream: to be happy and grow old with the love of her life. All my hopeless romantic triggers are activated by this song. ALL OF THEM.

People are generally divided on Ieva’s voice, but um hello welcome to BorisBubbles. I ranked Nina Kralic and Jana Burcheska hellow-high. I LOVE Ieva’s husky, nasal, ovine, falsetto whine of a voice. It makes “When we’re old” for me. Ieva injects so much vulnerability and authenticity into a song that whenever she performs it, all I can do is sit in silence, tears welling up in my eyes, bleating along with the WHAOHHHHHs. Time truly stands still during “When we’re old” and I’m speechless.

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14. Conchita Wurst - “Rise like a phoenix” Austria 2014

You can be damn’ sure the highest ranked powerballad on this list is “Rise like a phoenix”. It isn’t as much as a song as it is an INSTITUTION. 

Which is why, symbollically, “Phoenix” is a very important winner. It’s a plight for overcoming hate, for overcoming bullying, from being yourself in the face and of adversity and rising from the ashes reborn, reinvented, reinvigorated. Its presentation is provocative, yet secondary, putting vocals and song on the foreground. It is rooted in the political zeitgeist of its winners, like most modern winners, obviously, 

however, ask yourself this:

Would “Phoenix” have won if it hadn’t been a great performance of a great song? 

I don’t think it would have. Take away the powerful composition and leave just the politically correct message, and you get Bilal Hassani. Take away the beard and you have, well, a really good song bond theme by a talented vocalist, that probably would’ve finished top ten, if not top five in most years. 

It’s easy to get distracted by Tom’s stick because a “Bearded drag queen” provides a lot of cognitive dissonance, which I personally love because it forces me to think, keeping my mind sharp. The use of a gimmick does NOT cheapen the talent on display here, however. Tom’s delivery of the song is flawless, hitting every note, delivering both ‘feminine’ nuturing comfort and ‘masculine’ strength to his glorious song. He even throws in some small nuggets of fierceness, providing levity, reminding us of Conchita’s drag queen roots

The act is cut from the same professional cloth; it is maybe a tad provocative, but at it’s core it remains dignified and classy, maintaining a moral high ground that instantly sheds a bad light on any hater. You may pull her down, but she’s gonna FLYYYYY.

Conchita Wurst is the best winner of this decade, period. No winning performance is as ironclad, vocally, musically or stagingwise as hers. No other winner has shown as much raw performance talent as she has. No winner has been able to make such a statement while at their core maintaining a high-quality musical standard. No winner has been such a champion of those whose voices are trampled for being different. To use Conchita’s own words after she won: “WE ARE UNITY. AND *WE* ARE UNSTOPPABLE.” 

________________________________________________________________

13. Zlata Ognevich - “Gravity” Ukraine 2013

This is the last female fronted act from 2013, you know what that means: EPIC ENTRANCE TIME 😍

What a beautiful dreamscape. I felt bad ranking Elina Nechayeva in a fairly low 39th place, but honestly, “Gravity” vibes very similarly and does the same things a lot better: Breathtakingly regal woman, a mirage of near-divine grace, stunning visual effects... SIGN ME UP ALREADY. At the core we of course find Zlata, the winner of the Best Human Award in 2013. Zlata’s backstage bits were rife with personality facts that instantly endeared her to me. A praraphrased selection from her infinitely quotable interview gold: ”I PRACTICE BIG VOICE BY HOLDING BREATH UNDERWATER”; “I COME FROM PLACE IT’S CALLED CRIMEA, IS LARGE ::reads from online dictionary:: PEN...EEN...SYOO..LA(?) WITH BIG MOUNTAIN AND LARGE SEA ^_^”; “I LOVE UNICORN IS FAVOURITE ANIMAL”. GODDESS. 😍

Fortunately her overpoweringly loud, yet disarmingly weird personality is also omnipresent during her big screen performance. “Gravity” is a mirage of Disney mojo and Zlata absolutely fucking hits it like A SHTRIKE OF DUNDAR

I don’t think I’ve ever listened to a song that is legit quotable at every interval? There is not a single line in “Gravity” that doesn’t bring out the bedroom karaoke: “IMMA LIIIKA BADDERFLYYYYY.” “NOTHING COMES FROM PRIDE, -*HAYLALE*” “NOW I FEEL NO FEEEEE-AAAAAAR.“

And I’m not even done because Gravity ALSO features an excellent backing choir (the male backing vocalist is incredible). It’s just a perfect example of world music, conjuring three minutes of pure, unicorn-endorsed magic. IMMA LIIIKE A BADDERFLYYYYY. 🦋

________________________________________________________________

12. Juliana Pasha - “It’s all about you” Albania 2010

YUARDAWAN 😀 YUGIMMEDATSAMTINANEED 😀 ITZMI 😀 ENDAMFOLIN 😀

We are at #12, which means we’re at that Olympian milestone where every entity ranked is a fucking supernatural force. In Juliana’s case a forced of pure, unfiltered, streechy harpism. 😍 It is so weird to think that she was the first of Albania’s now iconic ‘Shrieking Boss Hag” archetype because it feels like a alliance older than time, sealed and styled in cuneiform onto a shard of Sumerian pottery, blessed by the Annunaki and then embedded into the muddy banks of the Euphrates. 

Anyway, Juliana earned my HEART once she greeted us with her uncanny-valleyesque diction and cheshire-catesque leering, all YUARDAWAN! and proceeded to throw everything, both vocally and facialexpressionly, into the mix, in ascending degrees of deafening loudness. 😍

With a criminally addictive electronic schlager song too boot! One which, like Zlata features an INCREDIBLE supporting cast in a bangin’ gospel choir, as well as a very generous dollop of ❤ ELECTRONIC VIOLA REALNESS ❤

One of the fave musicians of NaziPope, btw. “It’s all about you” is such a Triumpf of the Shrill. 😍

Anyway, this high quality list of ingredients make for a very replayable ride that never spoils or grows stale, no matter how often I listen to it. Which is actually a lot. I’ve looped “It’s all about you” at countless occasions since 2010, making it perhaps the song on this list that I have to the MOST often. (Or second most because there IS a song I still have to rank that may challenge Juliana for that title.) If that ain’t a hallmark for quality, I don’t know what is. 

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11. Koza Mostra ft. Agathonas Iakovidis - “Alcohol is free” Greece 2013

Has life been letting you down? Have you been struck by a financial crisis? Do you no longer know how to continue living. Fear not, because :cracks knuckles: we are about to embark on a MASTERCLASS of unabashed drunken REVELRY:

Um a small disclaimer though. This song has a really really, really, REALLY irresponsible title. DO NOT at any circumstance use alcohol as a coping mechanism, engage in drunk driving or other activities under influence that you may life to regret later, if you live to regret it later. Also don’t drink if you’re underage. Also also, alcohol can cause obesity and cardio-vascular arrest. and cancer, possibly. Drink, but do so RESPONSIBLY. 

HOWEVER, what if this song is... a PSA???😈 An Anti-Crisis PSA that is, lol. A group of folk hipsters literally PARTYING AWAY the misery of the financial crisis in a delightfully self-deprecating fashion is just the pinacle of fun for me and Koza Mostra fucking ROLL with it. Watching them dart out in all wind directions, interacting with each other gives me LIFE.

It’s exactly that sort of industriousness which sets “Alcohol is free” apart from other party songs. There is a LOT of randomness going on in the background and it gives you ZERO time to process all of it, making every rewatch an easter egg hunt.

This approach to staging usually doesn’t work, but here it is actually very intelligent and I’ll explain why: The act places a lot of focus on Agathonas (which it should because he’s the lead singer despite his featured status), but by the same token offers constant distraction by all the Koza Mostra shenanigans in the background...  In other words, it’s an act that forces your attention away from the main event by confusing your senses, requesting all of you concentration keep up with everything that’s going on... which is actually a brilliantly accurate simulation of how 'being drunk’ works.

(btw if you listen closely you can hear the sound of Agathonas tapping his skull lol <3)

So the next time you listen to this song, pour yourself a drink (ONE drink!) sit back and embark on a Waldo-esque hunt to see how many beautiful nuggets you can find hidden in that splendid act, as the upbeat sirtaki madness fills your head with cloudy thoughts. As far as I’m concerned, Koza Mostra have WON the Eurovision Fun Contest. 

EVERYONE RISE AND APPLAUD THE  10 BEST ENTRIES IN THIS DECADE:

From now on, I’ll only include maximum 2 songs per update :o

And in this update we finally say goodbye to Greece, Albania, Ukraine, Austria and Lithuania. Read my thoughts on them, below:

LITHUANIA

Lithuania was hands down the worst country in the 00s and look at their chart now. They are slowly getting their shit together and it shows. Keep on going, darlings!!

AUSTRIA

God Austria are so boring. At least they occasionally provide us with a great entry here or there, but they’re so inconsistent in their entertainment. 2 great - 6 okay - 1 terrible is NOT a great ratio by any means. 

UKRAINE

ALBANIA

Albania are very hit-or-miss, but I really like their presence in Eurovision actually. Like Georgia they entries are so left-field that they are always *interesting* even when they’re not good. Except “Fairytale”. Fuck “Fairytale”.

GREECE

Fuck this decade was ROUGH for Greece. They are a shattered nation and if you think this chart is bad, let me remind you that their best result in the past five contests is 19th place. Same in fact, as San Marino’s highest and lower than the highest placements of Albania, Montenegro, Slovenia, UK, Ireland, North Macedonia,...

[byeoltan]

Hi!! Let me say at first how much I appreciate you, your blog is my favourite one!! Thank you for keeping it interesting and diverse! I have a question. Do you by any chance understand what bts comeback concept has to do with words 'love yourself'?? I got that album is about falling in love, being special for someone and unique moments in one's life etc. But i still can't get why they imply that the concept is about loving one's self if this issue barely was touched upon? Am i missing on smth?

but it was written in every breath they took in producing the album bby TT 

their comeback stage showed it all, they could’ve started with intro: serendipity, but no, they straight up went with ‘i need u’ the song that took them to where they are now. they mentioned how everyone cried so much when they had their very first win with i need u, especially jimin. it was in i need u that they realized they might just.. have made it, a step further. if you’ve been with them for a while, you’d know how dirty bangtan and army were treated, like really we were dissed left and right it was really a tough situation especially for k-armys they can’t even be proud of our boys or even mention their names in articles without getting ridiculed just cos they’re not ‘big’ TT and even when we had our first win, bangtan still get called out for ridiculous reasons that’s just. the fact that they made their comeback with i need u shows just how much they treasure the moment the fans that made it possible at that time, i need u was the breakthrough, i need u made them realize that they can actually be… happy now, and move forward. and maybe love themselves more, and performing mic drop afterwards shows exactly that :)

honestly love yourself album is in every sense, calls you to love yourself, if not, more, even when you don’t think you can, just look at the lyrics

just let me love yousince the time the universe was first formedeverything has been decidedjust let me love you–intro: serendipity

and when they say

don’t worry, lovebecause all of this is isn’t a coincidence(even when) we are totally different, babybecause (of that still) destiny is found in the two of ussince the day the universe came into existence, it has continuously been soand transcending for infinite centuries, it will continuously be sofrom our past lives too, perhaps, and even the next lives to comebecause we will still be together forever (no matter)–DNA

doesn’t that encourage you to embrace yourself, despite our differences? and

when you say that you love mefeels like i’m treading on the sky/heavenstell me about forever just one more timewhen you say that you love mei, i’ll be fine even if just those wordsthat you would never change, just one more time–best of me

bangtan treasures us so much as they treasure themselves that they wish for our love to never change no matter how bad things might get 

i wonder if it’s a mistake an angel left behindif not that then, a deep kiss?that dimple is illegalbut I want it anyway anyway anyway–보조개 (dimple)

did you know? that dimples are a medical flaw, a genetic defect that is caused by shortened facial muscles, which is why when we smile, the shorten muscle pulls the skin on our face causing a dimple. but somehow in our society, dimples are embraced and carries a mark of beauty and loveliness the contradiction is fascinating how human perception can override facts, and i personally think this is what makes the song more meaningful despite the casual pop tune, because what ever flaw you think you have, might not be a flaw at all. you can chose to hide it by not smiling, but isn’t it lovely when you smile? love yourself.

stopnow stop watching (and) start studying for (your) examsyour parents and your manager/boss they dislike meall those video clips you’ve watched, twitter photos,v app, bon voyage i know they’re so good, what should we dostop. the music video, (i’m saying) interpret (it) lateraren’t there plenty of my photos in your room, anywaywhat is an hour even? a year passes by just like thatthis song is a reward i’m giving (it) to you.good girl/good boy–pied piper

btw 착해 is an expression, a good compliment you usually receive from an elderly person/grown up when if you do well in something, its not sexual guys idk why some ppl imply it is lmao

so when bangtan says this they mean it wholeheartedly like a friend, like an older brother because they know how bad we have it for them, they know how much influence they have on us, as much as we ahve on them. despite scolding us, albeit, in a loving manner, they really want the best for us. unlike the original story where the pied piper drove the children away from the town of hamelin when the town ppl refuse to pay for his service in luring the plague causing rats away, bangtna isn’t set to lure us away, they in fact, want us to go to them, be with them, love with them, but in addition, we have to set our priorities in real life straight, so that, everyone can appreciate our love too, and maybe, the society won’t put much hate on us anymore.

please army remember what we say, love myself, love yourself, i really love you, and thank you

–skit: billboard music awards speech

this says everything hnnggghh

yeah? who said my ‘spoon was dirty’i don’t care, when i grab the mic i own those whole lot of ‘gold spoons’all of a sudden, those that didn’t cook well are in rage, those lot of steaks i’ll chew on y’all over and over again, on the star’s dinner table–mic drop

oh man i need another post dedicated to mic drop there’s so many things to talk about in this 

the thing i earn with hard work, my paygonna spend it all on my tummy all the pennies i collect/count just to waste it all (on my tummy)leave me be, even if i overspendor come tomorrow morning and like a crazy guymy savings, if i cash them all out (leave me be)woo there’s no tomorrowmy future’s been seized for collateral  woo my money’s all further spent friends, wassup?do you want some?–고민보다 Go (rather than worrying, go)

this whole song is satirical critique tbh even the dance choreography pls appreciate them

and then the outro, which reiterates everything about love and sacrifice, about being the best of yourself, about loving yourself first and foremost

the world is a complexwe was lookin’ for lovei am too, just one of those pplhonestly even i didn’t believe in real lovelike a habit i said i want to love, just babbling like thatbut i found myselfthe whole new myselfeven if i’m confused, which am i is the real meme meeting you makes me wonder, aren’t i a book?or is it you, who are the turning pages (of my book)?damn–outro: her

PLEASE LISTEN TO THIS SKIT THERES ENG SUB AND CRY WITH ME HOW ARE THEY SO PUREE THEY WERE REMEMBERING OLD DAYS AND HOW THEY DONT EVEN KNOW WHAT BILLBOARD IS NAD JIMIN HE JIMIN THOUGHT GRAMMY WAS A PERSON’S NAME AJSHD

theres a reason why bangtan made the skit and sea as hidden tracks, you have to undertsand that bangtan has come a longg way. and one of the reasons why they were finally able to get their first win the last time was through purchase of physical copies, which helped tremendously raise the sales. bangtan may be celebrated and loved wordlwide but back in their home ground, they were nobodies, which is why buying physical copy always meant more even (especially for k-fandoms) since you’re willing to go for an extra mile, its part of kfandom culture for fans to invest a lot of time and money for their group supports and projects to help get their fave name out there, sure you can like/listen to other groups but ultimately, hundreds of idols debut eveyr year so in order to make sure your group lasts a long time, korean fans consider it very important to pledge their loyalty to a single group and support them with all you have, this is why it was even harder for karmys because we come from small company :’)

and now that they are getting success tremendously over the past year (BANGTAN’S #7 ON BILLBOARD 200 GUYS PLEASE GIVE YOURSELFVES A PAT WE DID THAT), love yourself is to be quite honest, an album dedicated to armys all round, and those two tracks are just a little bit more intimate, and more on a personal level, which is why it was hidden from the rest of the world, i’d like to think that the reason they kept it hidden in a physical copy because they know for certain that only their fans would purchase a physical copy, and that they want us to be the first ppl to hear it, to listen to their laments, their grieves, their happiness, their love, they just wanna them share with us first and foremost, because they know only we would get it, because we’ve been there

in the end the mirage is caught andit becomes reality, andthe desert i was once afraidbecame the sea with our blood, sweat, and tearsbut then amongst all this happiness,what are these fears?because this place is originally a desert, we know this too well–sea

[jesliey]

The Many Ask Thingymabob

Second times the charm...

Tagged By: @caramiathegreat

Spoofy Soundcloud or Pandora? Im a spoofy kinda man

Messy or clean room? I think my room is comparatively clean

What colour are your eyes? Bluest blue to ever blue

Do you Like your name and why? Its alright. It always seemed a little lackluster to me

Relationship status? The running joke in my friend group is my 3 year dry spell. It isnt a very funny joke.

Describe your personality in 3 words or less? Distanced pragmatic dumbass

What colour is your hair? Golden and luscious

What kind of car do you drive? My moms PTA-mobile

Where do you shop? Bad Dragon

How would you describe your style? Dying, yet fashionable college student

Favourite social media account? We all know timboblr is utter trash, and i picked up natter a while ago and its honestly pretty fun

Bed size? Queenie my man

Any siblings? two older stepsisters and a wee lil half sister

Anywhere to live in the world and why? GERMANY OR POLAND. BECAUSE HERITAGE

Favourite snapchat filter? I really like the flower crown an butterfly ones but my phone is being dumb with snapchat and i cant get them

Favourite makeup brand? I mean i dont wear it, but im definitely not opposed! i dont know anything about brands and i am ashamed...

How many times a week do you shower? I go by how my hair feels. Usually its every other day, or every two days.

Favourite TV show? Currently? Gotta be that weeb and say Jojo...

Shoe Size? Depends on where i go, but like 12 - 13

How tall are you? Very

Sandals or sneakers? I like wearing socks and sandals feel weird on my feet

Do you go to the gym. I LIFT SO MANY THINGS WEEKLY SWOLE SESSIONS BRUH.

Describe your dream date? Existent... T-T

How much money do you have in your wallet? I dont carry cash!

What colour socks are you wearing? Black

How many pillows do you sleep with? Like 6. Ones a memory foam body pillow its soooo nice....

Do you have a job? Nah...its not for lack of trying though

How many friends do you have? Like...sooo many duuude...not really...

Whats the worst thing youve done? Cut someone who was bad for me out of my life. Bad for them, good for me.

Favourite candle scent? I mean i dont do candles but i love lavender

Favourite boy names?

Gabriel

Alistair

Jeremiah

Favourite girl names?

Elizabeth

Abigail

Lauren

Favourite actor? Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson

Favourite actress? Ashley Johnson

Celebrity crush? theres a lot...

Favourite movie? The Boondock Saints. Easy question.

Do you read a lot? Whats your favourite book? I dont read as much as i think i should, but i loved 1984. I wanna try David Foster Wallaces Infinite Jest and i have the first book in Baccano that i borrowed from a friend and havent touched yet :/

Money or brains? Ignorance is bliss and im filthy fuckin rich HOLLA

Do you have a nickname? Jesliey is an old one. People also call me J a lot. Very briefly in highschool someone called me J-Money whenever he saw me

How many times have you been to a hospital? Not very many. I went in a few years ago for a tonsil infection but that was it in recent history

Top 10 Favourite Songs? Ok this is in no particular order and also limiting to 10 is blashpemy

Subdivisions by NSP

Everybody Wants to Rule The World by NSP

Resist and Bite by Sabaton though if im honest most of Heroes belongs here this ones just my fav

Winged Hussars by Sabaton POLISH PRIIIIIIDE

Wrong Side of Heaven by Five Finger Death Punch

All of Pendulums Immersion album im not picking one

Come with Me Now by KONGOS

History Maker by Dean Fujioka

Setting Sail, Coming Home by Darren Korb

Sonata For Whitestone Castle by Aiden Chan

Do you take any daily medications? No, but i probably should have...

Whatis your skin type? on a good day, slightly dry. on a bad day, cracked bleeding sandpaper.

Whats your biggest fear? My man i used to battle almost daily with some quite hefty anxiety. I could stare down the Grim Reaper and say “I served my time you come and take me”. Wasps and needles are pretty bad though i guess

How many kids do you want? Id be lying if i said i didnt want a daughter at some point...but theres no way im passing on my genetics. im adopting if i ever want a kid.

Whats your go-to hairstyle? Either free flowing and glorious, or ponytail if i need it out of my face

What ype of house do you live in? Moms house is pretty decently sized i suppose

Who is your role model? I dont really have one...

What was the last compliment you received? I dont know I dont really get those often...this is getting kinda depressing....

What was the last text you sent? “Well i hope shes alright”

How old were you when you stopped believing in Santa? Like 10 or 12

What is your dream car? Oh god i want a 1985 Pontiac Trans Am so bad you have no idea...

Opinion on smoking? I dont get the appeal but everyone can make their own choices

Do you go to college? Yes and im dying

What is your dream job? Metalworking and blacksmithing has lowkey been a huge fascination of mine for like 2 years now. i would love to be able to do that for a living

Rural area or life in suburbia? I like the idea of both, but rural areas have space for metal workshops

Do you take shampoo/conditioner bottles from hotel rooms? Nah i bring my own

Do you have freckles? A few spread sporadically all over my body. no noticeable patches though

Do you smile for pictures? Yeah but most of the time it feels so forced

How many pictures do you have on your phone? Somewhere between 1 and 2 hundred. Im not adding them up among all the folders...

Have you ever peed in the woods? Bruh the forest has seen every bodily fluid ive got

Do you still watch cartoons? ANIME IS NOT A CARTOON DAD. also yes quite often.

Wendys or McDonalds nuggets? GIMME DEM CHICKIN MCNUGGiES

Favourite dipping sauce? Sweet chili thai!

What do you wear to bed? Pajama pants, a shirt, and socks usually. Occasionally whatever i wore during the day. Ive been known to ditch my pants and socks in my sleep.

Ever won a spelling bee? Never been in one, but i think i could have if i wanted to

What are your hobbies? I wont as long as i live under my mothers roof, but i would hella get into amateur blacksmithing!

Can you draw? yes. should i draw? no.

Do you play an instrument? I can play trumpet, but i would really like to pick up playing cello

What was the last concert you saw? If i remember correctly it was the Scorpions

Tea or coffee? Both. Simultaneously. I like to remain calm while containing the energy of a god.

Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts? Fuck you america! Tim Hortons!

Do you want to get married? I wont oppose if a future partner wants to, but if i love someone enough to want to spend the rest of my life with them, then it wont be necessary

What is your crushs first and last initial? Which one tho?

Are you going to change your last name when you get married? Im indifferent

What colour looks best on you? Blue and red are my standard colours

Do you miss anyone right now. If i think about this at all the answer is usually yes

Do you sleep with your door open or closed? I have the lovely habit of losing my pants in my sleep. for the sake of everyone else in this house, closed is best

Do you believe in ghosts? Call me a skeptic

What is your biggest pet peeve? Im pretty laid back about a lot of things. Only thing i can think of now is more of an anxiety thing but i cant stand people randomly touching my hair without me knowing

Last person you called? My mother

Favourite ice cream flavour? Butterscotch ripple

Regular or golden oreos? Golden

Chocolate or rainbow sprinkles? Rainbow

What shirt are you wearing? An old white one with some brand graphic on it

What is your phone background? Lockscreen is Goku from DBZ if he were done as a Jojo character, and home screen is a cr1t1kal quote

Are you outgoing or shy? Im not overly comfortable with just meeting new people and striking up conversations without some kind of help

Do you like it when people play with your hair? I mean i used to...theres a girl at my college who has absolutely no concept of personal boundaries who has at least partially ruined that for me now. Like i said earlier, i cant stand people touching my hair now without me acknowledging it

Do you like your neighbors? Ive lived her about 8 years and im still learning their names

Do you wash your face at night? In the morning? lmao

Have you ever been high? Hella my dude

Have you ever been drunk? Also hella my dude?

Last thing you ate? Coscto chicken penne and a salad.

Favourite lyrics right now? “Light up the night./ There is a city that this darkness can’t hide./ There are embers of a fire that’s gone out,/ but I can still feel the heat on my skin./ This mess we’re in, well you and I,/ maybe you and I,/ we can still make it right./ Maybe we can bring back the light!” Light Up the Night by The Protomen

Summer or Winter? Autumn fuck that noise

Day or night? Night

Dark milk or white chocolate? White!

Favourite month? October

What is your zodac sign? League of Legends Cancer

Who was the last person you cried in front of? I legitimately dont remember...probably @vocoterra

GOOD LORD THIS TOOK TOO LONG TO FINISH

If anyone wants to do this feel free and say i tagged you!

[silkhuikj]

silk

Silk

by Hui Kj 

****************************

Bailey, 

Not the twins or fish rot find faces, and I did not know exactly until after your submarine redirected their mirror lipstick, which is hardly possible to get the subjects more gleeful until your Atlantis: where identity is scanned by [redacted] and your group will be occupying in the sea training, all your ladies from your power shedding but please, for not much longer for such a way is different here now; you can come back to our home planet and your ladies will remember you as I have over such awhile.

For me, motel to motel: lights and backflip, scanning stress, heart rate normal but tried - and what I fear now is your capture and to see locked portals when you teleport into some planet’s virus that shows how you just refuse to be predictable and become hologram trickery, and friendly your way thru in disguise and that is my meaning to advise against your risk taking, besides the mere admiration I have: to avoid but of course promptly applaud on how you adapt across intimidating lines, and what I fear is that you have been brought here and there in your own way of time, yet by my traces shaping, and /Silk/’s gambling habits and you remain invisible one day at a time. Forget old-key monuments; not in this phase of life. 

/Silk/ with their gene, file pile separation operation for animal evolution, brain swapping and to sense-evolve: being able to see the scent in the lab: see thru fog - or hear their sigh as crickets choir to a song of freedom outside the bases on acre-vastness maybe noticed. See undo modern garden and me as fuck up then with the modern tree with extraction for our potions that remain classified, and I fuck up edit-copy-send and refuse to supply 100% of my own intel piles - there is a kingdom getting more difficult to fight for. 

Sometimes there are branches French kissing or cloud faces turning to see: all too addicting but they remain when I break eye contact and that is why we seek out identity because identity is everywhere if you hunt metaphysics or any bloom or trail. My curtains are closed now - and the powers are wearing off since I removed myself out of fear. 

A joke would be fireworks if we do not see each other but the cosmos specks are stories: the static riot and all the Rains, and all the Noahs, and all the Summers; shame for the tongue at the edge of worlds to wait on but deniable recruitment statuses, or a wise one does not have the knack or interest for our history and maybe even any history neither. You bite your tongue. If subject is at truth then it is ice cold when they are older yet you help them from the sea. Game but will title. So, when crazy B? 

/Silk/ is very serious about when green is black there is orange. If God knew of what you said that day then…..this is why I am alone and gave my office to our good pal Garcia who you teamed then but you were sent elsewhere because of the so many blueprints. He might of stole information like I did so, but he is an artist - I have not been back for almost a year, and I will not get current-tied; not again because you are already there and anywhere often but away. They remain a vision tilt opus all in all frequently, and that is /Silk/ while we can write these letters but somehow are separated by design tally planets away, mild difference with submarines, airplanes, or again classified means…(teleport), but you do not think that is true and your letters tell me that each person planted should envy each other and collectively better the world - /Silk/ is good but it all separates us. Jolie amour, I need to see you. /Silk/ is sending me someone - Godspeed. . .

- K.Well

***********************************

Bailey, 

Did /Silk/ call for a virtual huddle when the scan came thru? I do not know if heaven cheers or if the sky is the first to go dark - I am not in the system anymore. My den is poison-lights straining me with puzzle strings if void is nothing or everything lately. I meant something else about teacher-twins. [Filter]: sonder not bombers; they are not reporting on recruits from planet: Sneurnka: make sure /Silk/ knows different hums are different revivers and then learn it.. all subjects will be tested about planet flexibility and I will send spies on my own if I must. 

I love you Bailey. When you turn on Church Street out-under, do you crack from the suicide I have caused? The admirers… I am trying to preserve this for you from me, or just my depictions made some crazy when they were fine and it was misguided when the risk was absolute zero but was taken as contradiction. Garcia told you; so you can know my pain: weary agent uncurling. Me for earth - you at Atlantis - /Silk/ unknown: we want to save Sneurnka. Although, there is a raptured fever held and kept to a butterfly and your data fraction was saved and I have it here with me. (Reference: Garcia: code: Wolfman.) He sent me a letter about green suicide: not too far away from me now. It is someone - possibly an old subject, and I found him and invited him to coffee…. Ah, we need a double against old friends, find my chip; last buffered 492582 and even what did I Mrs. then? - in hiding for this. The subject will collapse in will offer up himself for the Sneurnka attack; the issue is all he knows is snow just pressed diction and fear for coming back - he is 30 minutes away. 

I will try spelling it out for him ad submerge lightning in honor of your sector with options for placement. My cup of tea is psychosis even though I remember how brave you were in training, even outlining the teacher’s alien drawings and it was impossible for you to not get promoted and promoted on. You helped me, and /Silk/ gave you that noble internship and when God showed your eyes were shut because one of the Noah’s turtles went blue; /Silk/ was zapped by God, and extraction is what I am trying to get to you but it is tangible unlike our computer army that I refuse to reopen those blueprints and be discovered  )))))))))))))))

((((((((((((((( Subject 1 brought his cousin to the cafe. She (2) told me to be sick six times. It made it seem that things were reserved for the last: they had cuts on their arms and around their body and even mentioned they would sometimes slice each other to feel - /Silk/ is interested because of their undeniably unique aesthetic with the moodiness, enigma spy, and they told me the uncommon fight is how glow is glow and I am guessing /Silk/ will offer these two help and if it is incest then many things could be of disturbance to the code and DNA of any of our bases. They just do many drugs; mostly meth for telepathy access. Denial they would throw pennies at me but you would be the cousin’s Queen. It is just their mayday. ))

— 

The subjects told me how their vibration is grey but remain investigating. My jaw dropped when they spoke of death wishes, and without hesitation I offered up a planet Sneurnka visitation. Their grey rain in a season and meeting destiny accidentally: subject 2 spoke up, I need /Silk/ to stay away from this kind of plotting: her filter exposes and forfeits progression 00000 doom but they will be away at Sneurnka to learn about spite, and you are the one I trust B - if you go there you could have your position changed: I know asking for more of your help is painful both ways, but new subjects contact me swiftly but urgently throughout my months data scanning. You could help these subjects, and you have dearly planted productivity at Atlantis. Your tracking will be up again once you arise. Thanks for all you do.  

K.Well

*******************************

Bailey,

Wolfman dimension Q swayed your findings and concerns for you to report to Sneurnka, even though your 7th sent me a direct postcard from London - thank you for writing my dear: I am jazzed even if everyone else just knows your badge. In your letter, I must say, you misplaced something: ‘cat9’ which the code has changed and now only means, ‘Virginia, Vegas fathers’ - which Wolfman has drafted your report so all in all to /Silk/; you have your clones pretty and handsome: bravery; as you are always and everyone fears you for ethics. 

Your dyed your hair black and your profile ‘Xxxx-00000’ is equivalent to the April trinity: tho all scanning winter, summer, spring, and still in progress. You always told me you just wanted to be normal, and I do not know if I can fix that: you bring peace and if you are tired of retire daydream then I will contact /Silk/ and see if they can give you a vacation in Z and electrify a twin to achieve points Sneurnka or not, and if you never see me again: it is because Wolfman said I was crazy and rebellious and evil for deactivating my will to get out - this matrix is a doorbell: but I am afraid the only nerves is that nobody will show. I have merged my clones for a greater cause  and /Silk/ is not only guarding you but slowly casting virus walls in my chips thru our line. Yet, you are the invisible one, and maybe you will frenzy to freedom without my help. 

Wolfman is dialing…)))))))))))))))))) 

((((((((((((((((((((( So,…. /Silk/ has found a C in America, Earth. so your 9 was correct: well done! Wolfman wanted me to tell you about this important art: XXXXXXX by XXXXXXX, and that was all. B, my eyes on you will stay to protect but I am no host. Turn around if you feel anxious, but I know that is wave oriented and you are so bold and infinitely inspiring. You said in your letter that Atlantis is in order. I will be scanning in Sneurnka for awhile while you train C - remember, Earth’s eye is violent but Sneurnka is worse - Wolfman will assist with……))))))))))))))))

(((((((((((((((( 

(

I cannot scan any finds; undetectable information walls - your parents are dialing my phone but my phone is under. Reading about the suicides - oh no B. I can not send anymore blueprints and there is no clearance for you to know about the Wvm-virus that slipped out from my lab…. - unplugging, updates thru my brother only, he is on Mars. 

Bailey, if we had matching shoes…. You will be hearing from /Silk/ soon I predict. I am weak and they know about me but not you. I am sorry. I love you. Goodbye for now! ~~~~~~~~~~ <3

- A.Well

*************************************

1 year later —————

It was to attempt to think in front of me and it was awkward now without subjects coming to see me - I never left the motel room and have not seen daylight. There are dreams of crows and the roar of trees of winds that I called peace but the crows from my bad dreams. I kept busy sifting thru war crime data and I have not heard from /Silk/ - would refuse jobs anyway. The thought of getting a bicycle was like heroin, and nobody could make out my face - even tho Sneurnka acutely invaded parts of here maybe two hours out.

My doppelgängers expired - Wolfman in the news but Bailey hail for peace never seen but remarkable invisibility. It is difficult to see forward; never had a track on her, my brother on Mars never alerts me, /Silk/ sends shocks to my chip twice a day but everyone uninvolved from past status and now I am an utter waste…. 

C might rival with Bailey, and Wolfman may end up like me: depressed and heartbroken without a seeming purpose but to tune into war and unable. He never made a death wish, and neither did I, but my eyes were red then. There is always the surrendering of brain in a /Silk/ lab, but seclusion has made me mad and any action at all seems like suicide - ah, trapped but was a villain. Earth has spun, and Sneurnka the action needed - /Silk/ will conquer the galaxy and imprison me as something official, differing from now in motels. 

***************** (mental hospital)

Daniel! I know you! I know you Daniel! Hey! I know you!

**************************

Doctor Frances floated him to sleep thru his veins……

[rilenerocks]

Dear Michael,

Well, here I am again. There are those who find this habit of my writing you letters to be a bit bizarre. The good news about that is that I don’t care. What a relief to be able to ignore the judgments of others. One less thing to worry about. I haven’t found any other place to lay my problems which provides significant relief.  I just need to spill this stuff out to you because my brain is spluttering right now. You know how it goes with me. Too much thinking, too much stimulation and I start boiling over with anger, disbelief, indignation and rage. You were my safe, peaceful place where I could purge myself of such toxicity and eventually slow down, let go, sink in, feel still. This time that’s happening is so over the top crazy that I have no idea how to process what I’d refer to as next. It’s not like I haven’t had my share of issues which required hard choices, or rough patches, or confusion and pain. But this atmosphere is just so utterly bizarre and isolating, both literally and figuratively. It doesn’t matter that you’ve been dead three years this month. I’ve found nothing to replace that cushiony place between us, that retreat from the rest of the world where we could soothe each other and make ready to tackle what’s next. So here I am, with another addition to the hundreds of notes I’ve written you these past few years. 

A couple of things set me off last night. Here we sit in the midst of the world pandemic. The divisions in this country are so profound. You know how many years I studied and puzzled over the Civil War. Well, effectively, it’s still raging. I’ve always known that. But the overt ugliness rearing its head across the country is hard to take. There have been demonstrations all over with protesters demanding their freedom from “house arrest.” That’s how they view the quarantine. Not a mandatory safeguard to protect human life. Rather an interference with their personal agendas.They want to be free to come and go as they please. They don’t want to wear masks and practice social distancing. Some splinter,( at least I hope they’re splinter), groups with multiple axes to grind have shown up at state houses armed to the teeth. I saw a photo of one guy at a store, carrying a rocket launcher and two handguns. The nuances of this complex virus elude so many people. The country is expected to experience 100,000 deaths by June 1st. In mere months. There’s no universal treatment, no vaccine and inadequate testing. The economy is approaching depression level statistics in terms of unemployment, closed businesses and generalized hunger. The pressure to reopen the economy is being pushed by the government. Unemployment is crushing for people and they need to work, to have incomes. But do they also have to get sick and maybe die? The stimulus package from the federal government was too small. I have no idea if the Senate will pass a Democratic bill that will cost a lot more money. The alternative? Open the country and gamble with public health.  It’s an election year and Trump is incensed that the pandemic has tanked the economy he hoped to ride to reelection. He has lied to and misled the public on so many occasions I can’t count them. Human life is not at the top of his list-that��s about power. This recent comment, circuitous ignorance, drove me over the edge.   “Don’t forget, we have more cases than anybody in the world. But why? Because we do more testing,” Trump said. “When you test, you have a case. When you test, you find something is wrong with people. If we didn’t do any testing, we would have very few cases. They [the media] don’t want to write that.” I thought I’d lose my mind.

Then late last night I got an email from the park district with this disappointing news.

Aquatics – There will be no summer pool season at Crystal Lake Park Family Aquatic Center or Urbana Indoor Aquatic Center. All aquatics programs (swim lessons, swim teams, exercise programs) canceled through July 31.

I’m so sad about this.  And I hate myself for letting it get to me. I know that there are infinitely worse things happening to all kinds of people which are so much more challenging than losing your exercise venues. There have been these memes going around which have really resonated with me.  Like the one about Anne Frank and her family living silently in an attic for 25 months to try staying alive. Or the one from George Takei about being rounded up to live in internment camps, victims of xenophobia in their home country. Not to mention the underdeveloped countries always hovering on the edges of war, famine and natural disasters. I get all this and remain conscious of the bigger picture. But I can’t help it – I’m still bummed out that I can’t swim. I don’t feel as good without the water, mentally or physically. The endorphin release that I get in the water isn’t replicated by walking. I’m glad my knees work but hitting that concrete isn’t exactly forgiving. I go to the water because it soothes me and now I have to do without it. And I will. But I don’t like it. Today I was pathetic. I drove over to the pool and just stared at its locked gates and emptiness. It’s so gorgeous there, big sky, plants, twittering birds. Sigh.

It’s hard to figure out what life will feel like when everything “opens up.” I don’t trust anything right now. If I go out wearing my mask and gloves I sometimes see people who aren’t doing that looking at me disdainfully. I guess they don’t know or care that in my mind, they are potential enemies, the people who could be the silent purveyors of the virus. It’s still spreading in our state. No one has any clue whether the summer will bring a respite as is the case with influenza. This disease is not influenza and continues to bring surprises like a new manifestation of dangerous symptoms in children. Previously they were thought to be safe. What if I could be a danger to our grandchildren? How can I know?  I hope we can all get tested soon. That would be helpful although it’s not clear whether antibodies to the virus are temporary or lasting. Am I just going to continue to lead the quarantine life just to be safe? That’s a huge change from how I’ve been trying to live since you died. After a few months passed, I realized that your valiant efforts to stay alive were what would inform the way I would live without you. After all the talking about what you wished for me, new partnership and intimacy, I knew you didn’t really get it. I could never settle for anything less than our cataclysmic, cosmic connection that defined our whole adult lives. I know you meant well and that you wanted me to be happy. But what I felt was that I wanted to live as big and hard as you did. So I started doing that pretty fast. I started traveling, mostly on my own. You and what lay between us empowered me, as it still does.

Tonight is the evening before I was to be headed to see the sights in these photos – the Mendenhall Glacier on a whaling boat and the town of Sitka. Yup. The trip of a lifetime, two and a half weeks in Alaska,  starting in Vancouver, cruising for a week and then disembarking for a land journey into Denali National Park. Can you believe it? Other than another scuba diving trip, I know you would have loved that I was going to have this adventure, something we often talked about doing together. Ironically, one of the ships that carried Covid19 passengers and wasn’t allowed to dock anywhere for a long time, was the very one I was booked on – classic, right?   So as this pandemic continues, what are the odds of my replanning that trip? Will planes and ships, effectively Petri dishes for rapid disease transmission be something I’ll be willing to risk, at least for the foreseeable future? Right now, my answer is a resounding no. And in the meantime, I’m getting older. Smack in the middle of the Covid19 death group.

I hang out in our garden, working away. Your herbs have come back every year – they smell heavenly and make me feel you’re rising up and through me, starting with my feet. I’ve already used the chives. Yes, in this lockdown time, I’ve gone back to cooking after all that time of minimal kitchen duty. I’m making your recipes, a bit fearful that they won’t taste as good, but so far I’m doing ok. I listen to music for hours. For the most part, it’s nourishing for me. Only 50 years’ worth of songs remind me of us. Every now and then I get emotionally ambushed, as my playlist is random, and then I have these great purging meltdowns on our dirt. One of your posthumous musical gifts to me is Pete Yorn who’s been doing live shows on Instagram. Did you even know what Instagram was? I know you’d be amazed to see me using Zoom for long distance family get-togethers and even meetings. Doing my civic duty like you always did, I’m now on the city’s Historic Preservation Committee. Seems fitting as I sit in our home, built in 1893. I’ve been doing some self censorship these past few months which I’d promised myself I wouldn’t do with this blog. As the world got overwhelmed by the pandemic, I stopped writing about your cancer. I felt like it might be too dark a topic when people were being subjected to this new global stress. But as I wonder how long I’m going to be around, I really want to get back to finishing our story. At least that part of our story. Having an orphan cancer and everything that goes along with it is an important topic to share. I know it’s harsh. I was looking through some of the photos that go along with it and they’re pretty brutal. How did I even take them? But they’re only part of our story. A lot came before and to my constant amazement, a lot has come after, even years after you’ve been gone.I took the pewter tag you left on my mourning quilt and put it on my keychain. I have the other X-rated one hidden away. I use your favorite towel and still sleep on my side of the bed. People tell me I’m lucky because I have my kids and grandkids around me. I know that’s true. But I don’t get to sink into them at night, and most hours of my days are silent while they blare your absence. How exactly does that work? I am without answers. All I know is that what was and is you and me still surges inside me. Just having written this provides me incredible relief. Who knew, Michael? Actually we both did – we talked about it often enough. I’m glad you’re still with me although in all candor, I wouldn’t mind something a little more concrete. But thanks for sticking around. Love you.

Spluttering Dear Michael, Well, here I am again. There are those who find this habit of my writing you letters to be a bit bizarre.

[chestnutpost]

Inside ‘Climax,’ An Acid Trip That Goes From Dance Party To Bloody Nightmare

This post was originally published on this site

Some two dozen dancers gather at a remote schoolhouse in France. Outside, snowfall casts an apocalyptic chill; inside, sweat is dripping and bodies are convulsing to a throbbing disco surge. “God is with us,” the troupe’s choreographer howls as they engage in an orgy of the senses. It’s their last rehearsal before touring the United States and beyond — if, that is, they survive the night. The sangria they down after finishing the run-through is spiked with LSD, much to everyone’s shock, and what began as a free-spirited celebration ends with blood, blame, battery, incest and other hallucinatory hazards.

So it goes in “Climax,” the 95-minute horror bacchanalia that exists in the hallowed space between must-see and can’t-watch. That’s familiar territory for director Gaspar Noé (“Irréversible,” “Enter the Void”), an extremist whose work flirts with nihilism. Here, he serves up maybe 40 minutes of ecstasy, duping us into thinking he’s made something joyful before swerving to a fevered agony that’s as exhilarating as it is disturbing. This is not a film for everyone, and that’s precisely why it’s incredible. When I saw it for a third time in Brooklyn last week, the woman sitting next to me was holding her head and moaning during the final half hour.

“It’s like you start with a roller coaster going up, up, up, and suddenly the roller coaster starts going down,” Noé said by phone last week. “Any spectator that sees the movie knows it’s just an imitation of life.”

However bleak, he’s not wrong. As the opening credits imply, Noé based “Climax” on a news story from the ’90s in which French dancers found their drinks laced with acid. He wouldn’t tell me whether things ended as brutally for them as they do for his characters, but there’s a certain catharsis in seeing such highs ― pun intended ― butt up against such diabolical lows.

A24 Sofia Boutella in “Climax.”

What’s most impressive about “Climax” is how it was made. In December 2017, Noé attended a voguing ball where he was inspired to pursue a project about dancers of varying races, nationalities and sexual identities who come together with a carnal, catty joie de vivre. In lieu of a proper script, he wrote a short treatment that introduced the characters and outlined the story in only the broadest strokes. Everything else was fleshed out during the shoot, which spanned a quick 15 days, with Noé operating the camera himself. By the following May, “Climax” was already premiering at the Cannes Film Festival. 

Initially, Noé envisioned the movie as two halves: before the acid and after the acid ― both shot to look like continuous 40-minute takes, with the credits sandwiched in the middle. That’s what Sofia Boutella signed on for when Noé sent her an Instagram message asking if she’d play the choreographer, Selva, who doubles as the de facto protagonist.

Casting Boutella, who toured with Madonna before starring in “The Mummy” and “Atomic Bonde,” changed the game. Noé wasn’t planning to hire an actual choreographer to put together the vibrant dance number that opens “Climax,” but Boutella insisted he’d need a professional to wrangle 20-some performers. She recommended Nina McNeely, who has worked with Christina Aguilera, Rihanna and Banks. By then, everything was moving quickly: After deciding on the song ― Cerrone’s “Supernature” ― McNeely had only one day to prep and two days to rehearse the complex ensemble, whose free-flowing buffet of styles create what she calls “structured improvisation.” 

Foc Kan via Getty Images Gaspar Noé and Boutella at the Cannes Film Festival in May 2018.

On the next day, Noé brought her a few more dancers to add in and shot the scene as one roving take, the camera floating around and drifting overhead: Busby Berkeley on shrooms. There are voguers and krumpers and waackers and duck-walkers and electro hoofers and Shiva arms and catwalking, all bobbing around one other in a hodgepodge of ’90s euphoria. McNeely took inspiration from “A Chorus Line,” “Sweet Charity” (and all things Bob Fosse), Pina Bausch and Federico Fellini. It’s enough to make you assume the rest of “Climax” will be festive too.

“They are very charismatic, very sexy, very young, and especially their dancing skills and the language they invent with their bodies is so incredible that as a spectator you are envious of them,” Noé said. “You are curious about being part of that group because they kind of celebrate life in a conscious way. I could have done a whole movie like that, but I don’t think that happy endings make happy spectators.”

So Noé and company turned the back half of “Climax” into a nightmare. The after-party starts off pleasantly enough, with petty jealousies and horny desires undergirding the dancers’ boozy interactions. Noé beaks up the two halves with mini-conversations about marriage, sex, cocaine and other indiscretions, all shot in close-up and spliced together in rapid succession with music throbbing in the background. But when the LSD kicks in, the pulse shifts to a minor key and Selva becomes a tour guide for the frenzy. The camera follows her through a neon-green hallway, in and out of rooms where people fight or hook up or freak out. Eventually, she wanders back to the cavernous rehearsal den, where a mother tends to her preschooler, a pregnant woman wields a knife, a suspected traitor gets tossed into the snowstorm, and others become hypnotized by their own movements. 

McNeely was key during that long sequence, too. She would follow Noé and Boutella, hollering “obscenities” (read: stage directions). “I’d be like, ‘Look at the curtain! Throw your body on the floor! Kick the wall screaming,’” McNeely explained. “Sofia only did some of the things I said, so it’s really funny because I just seem like a fucking insane person screaming random things.”

A24 Romain Guillermic and Sofia Boutella in “Climax.”

It worked, though. We can see the experience mounting in Boutella’s eyes, and the way Noé’s camera swirls in relation to the proceedings makes us feel like ghosts following her into hell. That long green hallway? There might as well be a sign that reads “Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.” Or, as the Yeah Yeah Yeahs once sang, “Dance, dance, dance till you’re dead.”

Boutella based her performance in part off Andrzej Żuławski’s psychological thriller “Possession,” specifically a scene in which the main character, played by Isabelle Adjani, flails her body around during a manic meltdown in a subway station. Boutella had never taken hallucinogens, and in fact McNeely became a sort of acid muse for most of the actors on the set, dictating how the drug would affect each person differently.

Because she didn’t know what a physical experience LSD is, Boutella underestimated how demanding the film would be. She shot eight- to 10-minute chunks at a time, over and over, wailing and writhing in an abandoned boys’ school outside Paris. At one point, Selva thrusts her hands into her tights, only to peer down and think they’re stuck there permanently, after which she thrashes around like a dervish. It’s at once hilarious and unsettling, and a master class in acting.

“I knew at the moment he gave me the role of the choreographer, he wanted this choreographer [to be someone who] who never got the chance to dance the way she probably wanted to,” Boutella said. “She got to this point and she’s older than everybody, and she’s trying to unify and bring everybody together. I wanted to find some color because the moment I’m completely high I wanted the worst part of her to come out. It’s the true part of her that she never shows to anybody, some sort of darkness.”

By the time “Climax” ends, that darkness is king. There’s no going back, as if everyone involved has reached some sort of feral nadir. It recalls the gruesome opera that closed last year’s “Suspiria” remake, which is fitting because the original “Suspiria” is name-checked in “Climax.” Some of the final moments are filmed upside down in a haze of reds and blacks that offer an unintelligible violence, leaving audiences gasping for air.  

Of course, Noé thinks the whole descent is hilarious. At times, he’s right, as when Selva sees herself in a mirror and leaps back in horror. But there’s also a prevailing sense of despair, scored by the likes of Giorgio Moroder and Aphex Twin. Life, “Climax” seems to say, opens the door for infinite possibilities, only to reveal crushing terrors, sometimes in the same night. One can only hope that, when all is said and done, you’ll still be dancing. 

“It is, in many ways, a positive movie,” Noé said. “It’s dark in an educational way, but the more you think about it, the more you have a kind of vision for what human cruelty is. We are talking about some subjects that make you see the shadow; it shows cruelty out of the light of the sun. You are happy to see these horrors onscreen that you haven’t seen in real like, like when you have a nightmare. … It is helpful to see all those fears inside your mind while you’re sleeping or when you enter a movie theater. People still, at the end of the movie, keep their joy of the first part of the movie. Many people say, ‘Oh, this was a ride, but I enjoyed it.’”

“Climax” is now in theaters.

RELATED…

The post Inside ‘Climax,’ An Acid Trip That Goes From Dance Party To Bloody Nightmare appeared first on The Chestnut Post.

from The Chestnut Post https://thechestnutpost.com/news/inside-climax-an-acid-trip-that-goes-from-dance-party-to-bloody-nightmare/

[symbianosgames]

Minecraft: Story Mode? 

Minecraft...Story Mode?! 

A partnership between Minecraft creator Mojang and The Walking Dead developer Telltale seemed very strange when first announced. Minecraft is a game about creating your own stories by interacting with its procedurally-generated worlds and crafting and building systems, whereas Telltale makes narrative-driven stories centered around pre-authored dialogue and decision trees.

But representatives of the two studios tell Gamasutra that bringing together their starkly different styles for a series episodic adventures was a completely natural move.

The Mojang/Telltale tagteam begins to make more sense when you consider the stories that naturally seem to grow up around Minecraft. There are the hundreds of community-created Minecraft stories posted to YouTube every day, or the Let's Plays that recount a personal quest or adventure. Beyond that, people make short films and machinima with the game, and record songs about their exploits in the game.

"For the last year, we've had a private Telltale Minecraft server, and we've been documenting everything that's been going on in there"

These community stories and the many other ways Minecraft players exhibit creativity in and out of the game were integral to the development of Story Mode. Telltale tried to draw inspiration for characters, places, and plot points from things that happen organically in the community. They didn't just observe, either. They chronicled their own in-game experiences.

"For the last year we've had a specific private Telltale Minecraft server," says Job Stauffer, creative communications director at Telltale. "We've tinkered around in Telltale town and built all kinds of contraptions and buildings, and we've been documenting everything that's been going on in there."

He says that one incident with a chicken machine that went haywire even made its way into the game.

Mojang and Telltale are quick to stress that Story Mode is not the official story of Minecraft. It cannot be an official canon or mythology, because no such thing exists.

"We didn't want to explain exactly what a creeper is," says Owen Hill, creative communications director at Mojang. "It's good to have some mystery to these cool mobs and stuff."

Hill cites the Far Lands as an example of mythologizing done by the community. When you get far enough from the origin or spawn point of a Minecraft world seed, the algorithm that generates the world begins to break down and falter. "The world starts to look really freaky and a bit weird," explains Hill. "And people read a lot into that. They call it the Far Lands and it's this mysterious area."

Minecraft fans seem to enjoy coming up with their own interpretations and seeking out other people's interpretations of why things are the way they are. While Story Mode references or pulls elements from many of these player interpretations, it is meant to be just one among the infinite many possible interpretations and stories set in Minecraft's peculiarly blocky, procedurally-generated universe.

"When we first sat down with Mojang to talk about what the story was going to be, we started with Goonies and Ghostbusters."

Story Mode stars a character called Jesse--who in a first for Telltale can be male or female--and Jesse's friends. Their adventure initially revolves around four legendary heroes who are each based on archetypes the Telltale team identified in the Minecraft community. There's an engineer who's great with contraptions, an architect who likes to just build things, a warrior who excels in monster slaying, a rogue--some might say griefer--who enjoys ruining other people's creations and generally being annoying.

Stauffer is reluctant to elaborate on how Telltale has avoided the pitfalls of designing characters to fit each of these archetypes, for fear of spoiling the plot of later entries in the series. He does note that the protagonist Jesse and Jesse's friends all harbor a sort of "paragon ideal" of the qualities of the heroes that they're mimicking. Eventually, the group will meet characters who embody these heroic ideals, at which point the dynamic between "expectation and aspiration collides with the reality within the story," according to Stauffer.

The narrative draws on works beyond the Minecraft community, too. Telltale feels that they're trying to carry on the noble tradition of family-friendly adventure tales embodied in 1980s films like The Goonies and Ghostbusters. 

Stauffer excitedly talks about how the film Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom--the one where a man rips the still-beating heart from another man's chest--was central to the introduction of the PG-13 rating to American cinema, thereby creating a niche between adult and family movies such that teenagers weren't excluded from gorier, darker plot lines. The downside to this was that there were fewer big budget films being made without scarier and more intense themes.

"But we loved seeing those [family films] when we were growing up," says Stauffer. "When we first sat down with Mojang earlier last year to talk about what the story was going to be, we really started with Goonies and Ghostbusters."

Story Mode took shape as a classic group adventure in the spirit of these films. It was also in line with what Telltale identified as the common themes of Minecraft. "[There's] survival, crafting, adventure, and if you're playing on a server there's also the themes of playing with your friends," says Stauffer.

In many ways, it's a return to the roots for Telltale. Before delving into the mature licensed content of recent years--The Walking Dead, The Wolf Among Us, Game of Thrones, and Tales from the Borderlands--Telltale was known for its lighter fare. The Back to the Future, Sam & Max, Monkey Island, and Strong Bad series (among others) all straddled the line between adult and kids entertainment.

It's this culmination of many different influences and ideas that Telltale and Mojang hope will make Story Mode palatable to a broad audience. Older people can enjoy the 80s film references and the familiar voices of the cast--some of whom were actually in The Goonies--while younger players get to appreciate the Minecraft and internet culture references that are more familiar to them.

And as with prior Telltale adventures, for those who don't "get" Minecraft, this new Story Mode is meant to serve as a more approachable introduction to the themes and ideas and especially the elaborate design logic of its source material.

"We worked with some of the members of the dev team to make sure everything kind of made sense within the world," says Hill. Mojang wanted to make sure that it preserves the art and animation style, while still offering a bit of leeway in how the characters can express themselves, and also to ensure that it contains crafting.

The same patterns and materials are used across both games so that anyone who plays Story Mode and crafts a sword with Jesse can then hop into Minecraft and know how to craft a sword there, too. The logic is the same, only the language and perspective through which you interact with the world is different; it's now cinematic and tailored to a narrative.

For Telltale, then, Story Mode is little more than business as usual--it's a game that tells stories and finds character and theme-driven narrative threads in an established, beloved universe. All that's different is that this world has no predefined characters--only predefined systems of logic and design.

But for Mojang it's a tentative step into a world of narrative. One that surprisingly is not part of some grand plan, despite the line of Minecraft novels hitting bookstores now and the coming Minecraft movie that's in preproduction.

"We're not going to go out looking for something desperately in order to expand the narrative," says Hill. "It's not like we sat down and went, 'Hey, we need more ways to make narrative in Minecraft.' But if something cool comes along and it kind of fits, and we feel like we could do a really good job and do justice to the game, I don't see why not."

All it comes down to is protecting the brand and watching to see what the community wants. Hill says that the reception of Story Mode may influence Mojang's future choices, but he stresses that it always comes back to the community. "[Minecraft] wouldn't be anywhere near as big if it wasn't for that," he says. "We made this game and people embraced it and not only have they built cool creations [in the game]; they've made so much stuff around it."

Perhaps the core narrative of Minecraft isn't so hard to find after all. It was always there, right beneath the surface. It just took Telltale to point it out to us.

[symbianosgames]

Minecraft: Story Mode? 

Minecraft...Story Mode?! 

A partnership between Minecraft creator Mojang and The Walking Dead developer Telltale seemed very strange when first announced. Minecraft is a game about creating your own stories by interacting with its procedurally-generated worlds and crafting and building systems, whereas Telltale makes narrative-driven stories centered around pre-authored dialogue and decision trees.

But representatives of the two studios tell Gamasutra that bringing together their starkly different styles for a series episodic adventures was a completely natural move.

The Mojang/Telltale tagteam begins to make more sense when you consider the stories that naturally seem to grow up around Minecraft. There are the hundreds of community-created Minecraft stories posted to YouTube every day, or the Let's Plays that recount a personal quest or adventure. Beyond that, people make short films and machinima with the game, and record songs about their exploits in the game.

"For the last year, we've had a private Telltale Minecraft server, and we've been documenting everything that's been going on in there"

These community stories and the many other ways Minecraft players exhibit creativity in and out of the game were integral to the development of Story Mode. Telltale tried to draw inspiration for characters, places, and plot points from things that happen organically in the community. They didn't just observe, either. They chronicled their own in-game experiences.

"For the last year we've had a specific private Telltale Minecraft server," says Job Stauffer, creative communications director at Telltale. "We've tinkered around in Telltale town and built all kinds of contraptions and buildings, and we've been documenting everything that's been going on in there."

He says that one incident with a chicken machine that went haywire even made its way into the game.

Mojang and Telltale are quick to stress that Story Mode is not the official story of Minecraft. It cannot be an official canon or mythology, because no such thing exists.

"We didn't want to explain exactly what a creeper is," says Owen Hill, creative communications director at Mojang. "It's good to have some mystery to these cool mobs and stuff."

Hill cites the Far Lands as an example of mythologizing done by the community. When you get far enough from the origin or spawn point of a Minecraft world seed, the algorithm that generates the world begins to break down and falter. "The world starts to look really freaky and a bit weird," explains Hill. "And people read a lot into that. They call it the Far Lands and it's this mysterious area."

Minecraft fans seem to enjoy coming up with their own interpretations and seeking out other people's interpretations of why things are the way they are. While Story Mode references or pulls elements from many of these player interpretations, it is meant to be just one among the infinite many possible interpretations and stories set in Minecraft's peculiarly blocky, procedurally-generated universe.

"When we first sat down with Mojang to talk about what the story was going to be, we started with Goonies and Ghostbusters."

Story Mode stars a character called Jesse--who in a first for Telltale can be male or female--and Jesse's friends. Their adventure initially revolves around four legendary heroes who are each based on archetypes the Telltale team identified in the Minecraft community. There's an engineer who's great with contraptions, an architect who likes to just build things, a warrior who excels in monster slaying, a rogue--some might say griefer--who enjoys ruining other people's creations and generally being annoying.

Stauffer is reluctant to elaborate on how Telltale has avoided the pitfalls of designing characters to fit each of these archetypes, for fear of spoiling the plot of later entries in the series. He does note that the protagonist Jesse and Jesse's friends all harbor a sort of "paragon ideal" of the qualities of the heroes that they're mimicking. Eventually, the group will meet characters who embody these heroic ideals, at which point the dynamic between "expectation and aspiration collides with the reality within the story," according to Stauffer.

The narrative draws on works beyond the Minecraft community, too. Telltale feels that they're trying to carry on the noble tradition of family-friendly adventure tales embodied in 1980s films like The Goonies and Ghostbusters. 

Stauffer excitedly talks about how the film Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom--the one where a man rips the still-beating heart from another man's chest--was central to the introduction of the PG-13 rating to American cinema, thereby creating a niche between adult and family movies such that teenagers weren't excluded from gorier, darker plot lines. The downside to this was that there were fewer big budget films being made without scarier and more intense themes.

"But we loved seeing those [family films] when we were growing up," says Stauffer. "When we first sat down with Mojang earlier last year to talk about what the story was going to be, we really started with Goonies and Ghostbusters."

Story Mode took shape as a classic group adventure in the spirit of these films. It was also in line with what Telltale identified as the common themes of Minecraft. "[There's] survival, crafting, adventure, and if you're playing on a server there's also the themes of playing with your friends," says Stauffer.

In many ways, it's a return to the roots for Telltale. Before delving into the mature licensed content of recent years--The Walking Dead, The Wolf Among Us, Game of Thrones, and Tales from the Borderlands--Telltale was known for its lighter fare. The Back to the Future, Sam & Max, Monkey Island, and Strong Bad series (among others) all straddled the line between adult and kids entertainment.

It's this culmination of many different influences and ideas that Telltale and Mojang hope will make Story Mode palatable to a broad audience. Older people can enjoy the 80s film references and the familiar voices of the cast--some of whom were actually in The Goonies--while younger players get to appreciate the Minecraft and internet culture references that are more familiar to them.

And as with prior Telltale adventures, for those who don't "get" Minecraft, this new Story Mode is meant to serve as a more approachable introduction to the themes and ideas and especially the elaborate design logic of its source material.

"We worked with some of the members of the dev team to make sure everything kind of made sense within the world," says Hill. Mojang wanted to make sure that it preserves the art and animation style, while still offering a bit of leeway in how the characters can express themselves, and also to ensure that it contains crafting.

The same patterns and materials are used across both games so that anyone who plays Story Mode and crafts a sword with Jesse can then hop into Minecraft and know how to craft a sword there, too. The logic is the same, only the language and perspective through which you interact with the world is different; it's now cinematic and tailored to a narrative.

For Telltale, then, Story Mode is little more than business as usual--it's a game that tells stories and finds character and theme-driven narrative threads in an established, beloved universe. All that's different is that this world has no predefined characters--only predefined systems of logic and design.

But for Mojang it's a tentative step into a world of narrative. One that surprisingly is not part of some grand plan, despite the line of Minecraft novels hitting bookstores now and the coming Minecraft movie that's in preproduction.

"We're not going to go out looking for something desperately in order to expand the narrative," says Hill. "It's not like we sat down and went, 'Hey, we need more ways to make narrative in Minecraft.' But if something cool comes along and it kind of fits, and we feel like we could do a really good job and do justice to the game, I don't see why not."

All it comes down to is protecting the brand and watching to see what the community wants. Hill says that the reception of Story Mode may influence Mojang's future choices, but he stresses that it always comes back to the community. "[Minecraft] wouldn't be anywhere near as big if it wasn't for that," he says. "We made this game and people embraced it and not only have they built cool creations [in the game]; they've made so much stuff around it."

Perhaps the core narrative of Minecraft isn't so hard to find after all. It was always there, right beneath the surface. It just took Telltale to point it out to us.