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[wordsofnoconsequence]

The Loss of One's Wings

A flightful bird am I Dreaming of the near sky I tuck my wings and wonder When will I still soar?

My wings have borne my load As far they could go I rest here on the ground Awaiting strength returned

The currents of the wind I count as my dearest friends They carry me on their backs Wherever I want to land

The warmth of the sun above Never far from burning up The pain astonishes that I can feel Reminding me to live and heal

A flightless bird am I Wondering how to go on Without my love, the sky Where does one soar?

On dreams I cannot subside In memory I lose what was mine I lash at kindnesses given They seem markers I am riven

At last I lie, spent entirely I don't know what I'm fighting Then— my oldest friends find me To bring me back to my calling

There can still be currents ruffling my wings There can still be the sun's heat burning me Even in a changed body, I am here reaching For that sky luminous I will ever love.

It will not be the same, it will not be the same, But I will love it anyway. Even if I am on the ground, loving so much, It can be another way of soaring above.

[kaibacorpintern]

graveyard shift

summary: jounouchi’s last day as a domino daily paperboy.

word count: 1.7k | rating: T

a/n: happy birthday jounouchi. let’s call this a tone poem. huge thank you to @danieco who has made me flex my previously unused jounouchi muscle more than i ever have before. anyway i love that jounouchi is a paperboy so i’m taking it away? oops. post-canon, pre-DSOD.

***

DOMINO DAILY TO BE SOLD TO KAIBA CORPORATION

The Domino Newsgroup agreed Friday to sell its flagship newspaper to Kaiba Corporation, ending the Yamato family’s stewardship of Domino's leading news organization after seven generations. In a statement by Kaiba Corporation's chief executive officer, Kaiba Seto…

Jounouchi stopped reading after that part. That was four weeks ago.

Sometime around 3 AM every morning, Domino went down like a boxer in the fourth round with secret instructions to throw the fight: taking one terrific punch and staggering backwards, toppling onto the mat with a resounding thud. All the snarling, seething bluster and frothing muscle came to a cold, dead stop. Really selling it. No doubt about it. This guy’s not getting back up, and all the money goes into all the right pockets.

Well, of course he does, later, to fight and lose another day, but that wasn’t the point. The point was that Jounouchi’s alarm went off at 3 AM, less than halfway through his dad’s graveyard shift at the 24-hour parking garage, and by 3:30 he was at the printing warehouse, teeth chattering, and by 3:41 he was on his route, zipping through the limp, massive body of the city on his bike with the basket full of rolled-up newspapers, and by 3:58, Jounouchi felt like he was the only person in the world, his face washed and cold.

Yuugi was at home, asleep. Honda was at home, asleep. Anzu was at home, asleep. His dad was at work, awake. Who the fuck cared where Hirutani and the other Rintama guys were. Passed out in a karaoke room, probably. Everyone was right where they belonged. It was a nice feeling. The streetlights watched him pass without really seeing him, like big, blind, unblinking eyes, and the only dents he made in the world were the thumps of his good aim and the relentless tikatikatik static of his spoke card. 

It used to be the king of hearts from one of his dad’s decks of cards. Now it was a spare Scapegoat. Once he got home he was going to throw it out, probably. It was too battered to be used in a duel. Or he’d just stick it in his wallet and throw it down when the check came, for a laugh. 

Jounouchi finished his first neighborhood and flew down the freeway underpass to his second neighborhood, feeling like a dark little bird, swooping down streets and rollercoastering around corners like he had wings instead of wheels. It felt cooler and sleeker without the dorky-ass helmet, but Honda had bought it for him and thunked it on his head when he tried to turn it down, thumping his fist pointedly on the hard white plastic. I don’t wanna scoop your brains off the sidewalk, you moron! So he wore it.

The route kept getting shorter and faster. People kept canceling their subscriptions or moving to online-only, and then Kaiba Corporation had swept in, made an assessment of all the costs and assets and stuff, and said no more paperboys, especially paperboys getting paid under the table because you’re not eighteen yet (but we’ll take you anyway because it’s a good, wholesome job for good, wholesome boys. Keeps you off the streets or whatever. Right.) And that was the end of this.

Jounouchi doubted Kaiba had anything to do with the decision. He was that far gone from normal people life. Like, he’d probably told some guy wearing a tie to buy the paper (the whole paper), who told some other guy also wearing a tie to figure out where all the dead weight was, and that guy told a THIRD guy, no tie this time, to let go of all the paperboys. And then it was the warehouse manager who did the dirty work. We’re switching to a more efficient distribution model, yaaaadda yadda yadda. Did Kaiba even know newspapers still had paperboys? Fucker. What the hell was Jounouchi supposed to do now? 

He didn’t even listen to music on his route. All the music felt fake compared to the perfect silence of Domino right before dawn, like the songs knew they couldn’t compete with the mountainous silence, so they didn’t even try. All the hot, sweating rock ballads and squealing guitar riffs and growling canine basslines just fizzled out of his tinny headphones and died. To be fair: his headphones sucked ass. But honestly, there was nothing wrong with spending some time alone with your thoughts at 5 AM, sweating under your jacket and kissing up to the broken vending machine in the alley so that it popped out a Gatorade, on the house just for you, handsome. 

At this dark blue hour, there was no need to throw elbows on the dance floor. He didn’t have to prove he was good enough to hang. He could just be, awake and alone, set free and swift on the street, thinking about Atem. 

And everyone else, of course.

But Atem, a lot of the time. 

By day it was embarrassing to feel so cut up about it. Excusing yourself from math class to go have a quiet little moment by yourself on the roof and then Mr. Takenaka finds you and you’re just standing there sniffling and nose-dripping for no reason you can explain without sounding insane, staring at your sneakers while he’s like, “don’t you have any pride? Aren’t you too old to be cutting class?” And you really wish you could tell him to fuck off, can’t a guy have a quiet little moment by himself once in a while? Can’t I take a break from being the toughest guy around? But you don’t, and when you get back to your seat Honda and Anzu both give you the look, the concerned look, and Yuugi is still staring out the window, just like he was when you got up and left. Clouds drifting across his eyes.

By night it was easier. Jounouchi threw a newspaper. It hit the door - thump - and bounced to the front step - thump number two. It was just easier to feel sad at night. It just flowed through him like a river. But just before dawn, specifically - which was still part of night, but wasn’t sunset, or midnight, or 2 AM, which all had their own special flavors, adrenaline and bravado and anxiety, all of which Jounouchi had tasted before - it was also easier to feel hopeful, less dragged down by all of your dad’s bullshit. And everyone else’s bullshit, but mostly his. Atem had left, but Atem had gone home. And it was nice to know that when everything was over, and you don’t have any more games left, you just went home, and everyone who ever thought you were something special is there, waiting for you with open arms. That also made it easier.

He’d never feel like that on the bus, or the arcade, or in class, with a million other distractions pelting him from all sides. It only happened at this hour, when he had space to think about it, and the hour was ending. Morning was close at hand. The sky was glowing with distant light and the street lights were starting to turn off, one by one. Jounouchi threw another newspaper, the thick forest of newspapers in his basket cut down to half a dozen tilting trunks, tied up in rubber bands in a rainbow of colors. 

When his basket was empty, he went east and then north, instead of just north, and took the scenic route along the waterfront, pedaling without hands, just because he could. The trees in the parks still held darkness like a sponge, thick and laden with it. Nothing had shadows yet. The streets were starting to leak cars, drip by drip. He usually got home before it all started to gush.

But not today. Jounouchi stopped on the bridge over the river where it met the ocean, a structure like a hollowed-out mountain range, its cables and suspenders making sharp peaks that swooped away to the riverbanks. A blue cloudbank sat atop the ocean horizon, softer and fluffier than merengue, and atop that sat a luminous, wispy peach sky. He ferreted his pack out of his jacket pocket, tapped out a slim, crisp cigarette, and lit his first and only smoke of the day, taking a slow, indulgent drag. The hit shivered through him, hot and minty at the same time, and he slouched over the railing, watching the river run backwards. The tide was coming in. 

He could keep waking up early, probably. Roll out of bed at ass o’clock in the morning for a bike ride through Domino. Keep the hour secret, like a penny in his pocket, something to rub for extra luck. But then it really wouldn’t work that great as an excuse anymore, and his dad read the newspapers too, and he knew he was losing the job. Sorry Dad, can’t do it, I’m going to bed, I gotta wake up in six hours - what the hell for? Just to fuck around? No dice. 

The cigarette burned a bright cherry red, brighter and hotter than anything else in sight: the parks, the ocean, asphalt. He flicked the butt. A clump of ash burst off the tip of the cigarette, flaking away. He tried to follow the ashes as long as he could but the vastness of the air absorbed them in seconds, tiny white flakes vanishing and winking away to nothing over the shallow, shining waters. Smoking was more just something to do with his hands than anything else. Another excuse to steal a moment from the day and think. He knew he had to stop, though.

Fuck! He was running out of excuses. 

He wanted to bring someone else out here to enjoy this with him, maybe - Honda or Anzu. Yuugi, probably. Coax a smile out of that distant, dreamy look. Check it out! Isn’t this nice? Don’t you feel refreshed? Alive? Like anything could happen today?

He sighed, smoke feathering in the brisk air.

“Hope you’re getting good sunrises in paradise, buddy,” he said. “Can’t be better than this one, though.”

The light kept rising. 

He smoked through the rest of the cigarette, cut the taste with the rest of the Gatorade. Not the best combo. But also not the worst.

Then he got back on his bike and went home, for one more hour of sleep before school. No one was waiting for him with open arms - he knew that already. But everything wasn’t over yet. The day was only just starting.

[fanficflaneuse]

One Day - Part 8

A/N: Dear magical tumblr friends, I’d really want to apologize for a stupid mistake I made yesterday. When I write these chapters, I insert a random name for reader and then change it to (Y/N) because I find it easier. Yesterday, one of my wonderful readers realized I hadn’t changed all the names and I felt so idiotic, omg. I want to apologize because I really try to make reader as broad and vague as possible and I know it can be frustrating when the reader already has a name (or is an OC) or a defined features. Anyway, I am really trying my best and I really hope that you like this part :) 

Details: 

Draco x reader (she/her pronouns) Word count: 990 Summary: One day AU. Post-war. Since The Battle of Hogwarts, Draco and y/n meet one day a year.

Masterlist 

Enjoy! 

3 May, 2006

“Healer Malfoy,” (Y/N) said playfully, a smile on her lips.

“Professor (Y/L/N),” he answered with the same aristocratic flair.

This was a daily occurrence. Every evening since the day Rose was born, (Y/N) visited Hermione. Childbirth had been so hard for her she was still on bedrest a month after her daughter’s birth. She’d accompany her friends for a while. She’d hold Rosie, tell stories and recite poems for her, to Ron and Hermione’s delight.

Then, she’d venture into the third floor, where Draco would usually do his rounds. He’d be waiting for her eagerly. Regardless of how tired, sad or frustrated he was, (Y/N) would never fail to cheer him up. They’d have what they called “tea and therapy” on the fifth floor.

“Is Harry joining us today?” she asked as they walked arm in arm to the hospital’s tearoom. On Wednesdays, Harry would meet them at the tearoom, faithful to his and Draco’s tradition.

“No, the git bailed on us today,” he said with an amused expression.

As they sat on their usual table, (Y/N) noted how her friend was in an exceptionally good mood, a rare occurrence lately. In the last few months, Draco hadn’t been very happy. His relationship with Astoria was really strained. They fought on a weekly basis and Draco found himself seeking (Y/N)’s company more than his own girlfriend’s. It all turned for the worst when he asked her to move in with him to the manor. They hadn’t been doing well for a while, but he loved her deeply (or so he thought) and was willing to do whatever it took save their relationship. Narcissa and Lucius hadn’t been very happy with the affair and that had made the frictions between the couple increase exponentially.

“My mother is eager to read more of your off the record writing,” he said, “I share the sentiment.”  

“I can arrange that,” (Y/N) answered, “I’ve been writing a lot lately.”

“And sleeping less and less,” he noted while taking a sip of his tea.

“Don’t talk healer to me, Dray. My editors want more material for the second book. I’m writing short stories now.”

“Don’t talk published author to me, (Y/N/N),” he teased.

“Someone’s cheerful today,” she pointed out.

Draco beamed. He had been waiting for the right moment to tell her the happy news. Not knowing of a better way to do it, he just blurted it out: “(Y/N/N), I’m going to be a father.”

(Y/N) almost choked on her beverage. “Pardon me?”

“Astoria is pregnant. We found out last night.” As the words left Draco’s mouth, she felt as if the world had halted completely.  She blinked a couple of times, trying to process what he had just said.

He laughed at her confusion. “I know this is unexpected. We had been on a very rough patch lately, but we are really working on our relationship. We want to be together, be a proper family. We even talked about getting married and everything,” he said, a dreamy smile on his face.

(Y/N) knew Draco was waiting for a response. She was trying to come up with something, but her mind was empty.

“Oh, Dray,” she said with a very small voice, “t-that’s wonderful. Congratulations!”

Draco was so elated with the news, that he had barely any mind to register (Y/N)’s reaction. As the minutes passed, he fell more and more in love with the idea of being a father, of having his own little person to love, cherish and teach.  

“Last night my life changed completely. Oh, (Y/N/N)! I am so happy. I’ve got to admit I got a bit scared at first. You more than anyone know my worries concerning a family. I don’t want to mess up. But I’m honestly so happy right now. And I seriously need to thank you,” he said, grabbing her hand, “You believed in me and showed me that something else was possible for me. You had faith in me when not even I believed in myself. And look at me now. A baby, (Y/N). I’m going to have a baby!”

(Y/N) tried to swallow the lump on her throat. She felt her vision getting blurry. What could she possibly feel? Draco had been in a relationship of almost three years with Astoria. She was his best friend, his confidant, and nothing more. Then what was the reason for the tightening of her chest? The overwhelming feeling of something ending completely? Was this the loss of all hope? Was it the realization that she hadn’t moved on completely?

“Why are you crying, (Y/N/N)?” he asked, his eyebrows furrowing. For a second, his happiness was dampened.

(Y/N) had to concentrate very hard not to sob. She was genuinely happy for Draco, but at the same she felt like she could die from an emotional overload. (Y/N) was hit by an unbearable realization: she wanted to be the woman Draco would start a family with. She wanted to be in Astoria’s place. She envied Astoria more than anyone in the whole world.  

“Tears of absolute bliss, honey,” she said, faking a smile. It must have been convincing, because Draco lunged from his seat and gave her a very tight hug.

“You’re the best friend life could’ve ever given me, you know? I’m so lucky to have you. And I know my baby will be too”.

(Y/N) didn’t look at him. For once she didn’t feel good in his arms. She wanted to run away as far as she possibly could. She felt a pressing desire to destroy everything around her and hex everyone to oblivion.

“I want to be the best father I can possibly be and that begins by surrounding my child with the best people to guide them. I’d like you to be my baby’s godmother.”

With those words, she felt her heart cracking. (Y/N) took a deep breath.

And nodded in response.

tags: @fandomscombine @okaydraco @naomi02hook @iliketoast23 @winnsmills @oldfashionedlovergirlsblog @happycomb @xtrashmouthxtozierx @hopplessdreamer @animelover09556

[purplesurveys]

1170

survey by purplehugger

Would you ever get a tattoo? I would love to get one, and plans are definitely set for that. It’s just a matter of knowing when I’m finally finally FINALLY ready to have something permanent placed on my skin.

Can you live without your phone? Technically yes, but I would have a very hard time since I use it for a lot of things, if not all the things I do on a daily basis; and I imagine I’d grow cranky very fast.

What animal do you resemble? I’m not so sure about resemble...I can tell you my personality matches best with dogs, though. I always have a great time with them.

What is your best friend’s name? I have two of them, Angela and Andi.

What is/was your favorite subject in school? History, followed by honestly any social sciences course out there...geography, anthropology, political science, etc. I definitely hogged those classes in college as much as my curriculum allowed me to.

Would you ever adopt a stray puppy? I would adopt every single one I see if I could.

Do you like chocolate? Chocolate-flavored sweets, yes. Actual chocolate or chocolate bars, not so much.

What is your favorite word? Poignant always seems to hit me straight in the feels.

Have you ever done something really stupid? Erm, of course? I do it at least once a day.

What was the worst mistake you ever made? Y’all have heard it a million times by now, but it’s tolerating shit I knew I didn’t deserve. Also, touching a plugged clothes iron when I was 7.

Can you say the alphabet backwards? I did at one point, but I didn’t practice it and now I don’t know how to do it anymore.

How high can you count? Any number as long as money is involved, hahaha.

You are very loved. True or False? True.

Do you like Taylor Swift? Not so much.

Do you want any piercings? Yes, one on each of my ears; I got pierced as an infant.

Have you ever stolen something? Random lost pens at school.

Do you like seafood? Looooooove seafood. I literally have 24 pieces of sushi right next to me right now; just a lil Friday treat for myself heehee.

What is your least favorite name? That seems a bit harsh. I don’t think I hate any name that much so as to call it my least favorite.

What do you want to name your child? Olivia or Mia is still on the table for me.

Do you like the color green? Just the olive shade. Otherwise it’s my least favorite color.

Do you have lots of friends? I would say I have enough to be happy. I don’t know what exactly ‘many’ means.

Are you listening to anything right now? Yeah, my friend group put up a Discord server just tonight and Jo proceeded to start a BTS playlist earlier. Everyone’s since hopped out for the night, but the playlist is still on so I’ll be staying around for the meantime and vibe. :) Just me, BTS, and my sushi haha.

What time is it? 10:04 PM.

Are you hungry? No, I’m taking bites every once in a while as I take this survey.

What was the last thing you ate? Sushi. I got 3 kinds for tonight: Singaporean Roll, Dynamite Roll, and Mount Fuji Roll. All so good. 

Do you sleep with a stuffed animal? I never did.

Do you know any gay people? Many.

Do you have any pets? Yes.

Would you ever own a monkey? Probably not. I wouldn’t be equipped to care for them.

Do you enjoy reading? Essays and memoirs, yes.

--

survey by xxbieberburnham

Do you know anyone who has been attacked by a shark? Not to my knowledge.

What is your best friend's mom name? Girlie and Ria.

Have you ever made out in a movie theatre? No.

What part of your body do you wash first? Hair.

Do you have an innie or an outie? Innie.

How do you think the dinosaurs died? Giant asteroid.

What's your favorite flavor of Pringles? Just the original one. But tbh Pringles are so addictive anyway, I’ll always take more than one of any flavor if they were ever offered to me.

What was the last thing you got grounded for? Low grades, which was really the only reason why I ever got grounded.

Did you go to a water park last summer? No, and I doubt anyone else did either...

What shoe do you put on first? Usually the right.

Finish the sentence: Girls... Are powerful.

Have you ever had a song or poem written about you? Poem, yeah. I don’t think I would particularly appreciate an entire song being written about me though, I think that would just make me cringe lol.

Did you have a nickname growing up? Nothing like an affectionate pet name. My longest-lasting nickname is just a shortened version of my name used by family, but otherwise everyone calls me by my first name.

When was the last time you played the air guitar? Never.

Have you ever bitten your toenail? Only as a kid.

How often do you clean out your ears? Every other day.

Do you scrunch or fold your toilet paper? Fold.

Have you ever been dared to do something that you regretted? Nothing major. One instance I can remember is when I was dared to pick up food from the ground, and when I bit into it it already had some tiny tiny stones and some debris on it D:

Favorite website? Twitter, probably. Or YouTube.

Worst thing that has ever happened to you? Losing two relatives I was close to in the span of four days to Covid. I am so fucking glad we made the decision to celebrate Christmas with extended family last year, no matter how ignorant it was. It absolutely sucks that I will never see them again.

Best thing that has happened to you? Recovering from my depression last year and choosing to stay. I’m living a really happy life rn.

If you could dye your hair any color, what color would it be? Dark green.

Do you have a Wii? We used to but we threw it out a few years ago since it wasn’t working anymore.

Most used phrase on IM? I think I just say “Hahahahaha” excessively lmao. Picked it up from my bosses.

Have you ever heard of The Beatles? Yes.

[needtherapy]

open always petal by petal (ch 3)

Song Lan knows his only passenger, Cao Huan, is more secrets than truths, but he's still the best passenger Song Lan has ever had: paid up front, self-sufficient, and silent.

It shouldn't matter that Cao Huan plays the guqin like his heart is broken.

It shouldn't matter that his smiles light up the darkest corners of Fuxue's passageways.

It shouldn't matter that he makes Song Lan curious, curious in a way he hasn't felt in years.

It's just an ordinary transport, a regular fare, a mostly-honest way to make a living. All they have to do is get from Sichuan Station to Caiyi Port. The galaxy may be a dangerous place, but Song Lan is very good at his job, and this should be an easy two-week trip.

The rest doesn't matter. It doesn't.

READ ON AO3

Notes: Rated E for Explicit. Title from e.e. cummings' poem "somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond". Thanks to @cirilien​, @coslyons​, @treemaidengeek​ and tucuxi (AO3) for the beta reads!

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

⋆ Days 10-14 ⋆

Fuxue is healed by morning, right on time, and for once, Song Lan isn’t particularly anxious to leave. He considers asking Cao Huan if he wants to stay another night, but he knows he’ll just ask again and again, and they have to go back to their own lives. The longer they wait, the harder it will be.

Qingyang joins them just as Song Lan is loading the last of his supplies, and he notices she stops Cao Huan to talk to him. They’re too far away to hear, even too far away to lip read, but eventually, Cao Huan bows to Qingyang. That isn’t a surprise. She’s the chief, after all.

The shock is that Qingyang bows back, low and respectful. It occurs to Song Lan that perhaps there was another reason Cao Huan didn’t want to come to Rogue Sky.

“Captain? Song Lan?” Cao Huan says his name with something like affection. “Are we ready to fly?”

Song Lan nods, startled when Cao Huan takes his hand and rubs the knuckles. “Fly us away, Captain,” he says with that sideways, quirking smile, and Song Lan forgets about the earlier twinge of jealousy.

The days flow through him like a dream, and Song Lan fights to hold onto reality. He’s not sure he’s succeeding.

Song Lan reminds himself that he has duties—even when there aren’t other passengers—to run diagnostics, flush coolant, service the deflector array, scan the sector for danger and distress. But Cao Huan seems to enjoy helping, and it never takes him long to catch on to a task. Plus, Song Lan likes the scent of his hair when he leans over to watch him work.

He reminds himself that he is a ship’s captain, they’ve already run into pirates once, and they’re traveling through Jin space, always more dangerous than it should be. But Cao Huan talks him into filling the bathtub. It’s hard to regret when he sees the man sitting in the water, his long hair slicked back, a wicked grin on his face. It’s even harder to resist the lure of warmth and Cao Huan settling against him, closing his eyes and sighing.

He reminds himself that the last time he couldn’t take his eyes off of someone, the last time he walked through his days in a haze, the last time he felt so reckless, it didn’t end well. But a quiet voice reminds him of all the happiness he had first, and asks him when he became so afraid of losing that he wasn't even willing to try.

Nothing terrible happens.

For five days, they take care of Fuxue, knit, meditate, drink tea, stare out of the windows into the darkness, and have more sex than Song Lan thought was actually humanly possible. If Cao Huan has been alone for three years, he’s making up for it now, like stockpiling for a cold winter.

And once Song Lan has that thought, he knows it’s true. Because he’s going to leave, he tells himself.

Because it doesn’t mean anything.

Because this is only temporary.

Because it’s only a way to pass the time.

If he says it enough, Song Lan hopes eventually he’ll believe it. Eventually it’ll be true.

The best moments—the hardest moments—are the times Cao Huan curls next to him and tells him who he is or who he was. He is careful with his words, and Song Lan is careful not to pry, but each detail seems like a precious gift.

I was sixteen the first time I fell in love, and I loved him until he died. I may have avenged him, but he is gone anyway.

It is terrible to admit, but I miss the trees of home the most, the way they rustle and whisper. I always liked to imagine they were speaking with my mother’s voice.

My family believes it is a reward to return home, but it feels like the spectre of a waiting tomb.

I thought I knew who I was and the path I was on. I was wrong, and I don’t know how to find my feet again.

His words break Song Lan’s heart daily, which, he suspects, is good practice for later.

Sometimes he tells Cao Huan about Xingchen: his unrelenting kindness, his penchant for collecting rocks on planets they visited, his friendly smile that made everyone fall a little in love with him. He takes down the sword and tells Cao Huan how Xingchen looked holding it, fierce one moment, breaking into helpless giggles the next. Sometimes the stories make Cao Huan laugh, and occasionally, even though Song Lan is never sure why, they bring tears to Cao Huan’s eyes.

And even though he’s never told anyone, part of him wants to say the unspeakable things too. Like how Xingchen looked when he realized they’d been betrayed by a man they considered a friend. Or the last time Song Lan saw him, eyes bleeding and an apology on his lips. Or how furious Song Lan was—still is, if he’s honest—to be rendered mute and unable to forgive Xingchen before they were shot by Xiandu’s assassin and left to die.

But it feels like a betrayal to talk about Xingchen’s one mistake, bringing aboard the man that cost them everything, and anyway, Song Lan doesn’t want to burden Cao Huan with this memory too, not when he is still grappling with terrible memories of his own.

They are two days from Caiyi Port when the ship stops them.

[Captain, Gusu Lan would like a word.]

Song Lan and Cao Huan are drinking tea when Fuxue alerts them, and Cao Huan drops his cup, splashing hot tea on his dark pants. He curses colorfully—Song Lan grins; he’s full of surprises as always—and shoots Song Lan an apologetic look.

“I will change and clean up tea,” he says and hurries away.

Song Lan heads to the bridge. He could answer the summons from the kitchen, but he wants to see which Gusu Lan ship it is.

To his surprise, it’s not one of the Gusu Goldlighter vessels he knows, nor one of the ordinary Cloud Recesses transport ships. It’s Shuoyue, the Lan flagship.

It must be Lan Qiren, Song Lan thinks, but Lan Qiren never leaves Gusu, not since he took over leadership of Lan Nanotech three years ago. Song Lan hadn’t bothered paying much attention to Gusu back then, or, honestly, since. The only thing on the small planet is Cloud Recesses, home of the Lan engineering school and nano industry. The Lans have their own transport fleet, and Song Lan can’t afford their tech, so he rarely goes to that part of the sector. All he knows is that the former leader of the Gusu Lan faction had gone on hiatus and Lan Qiren is, if anything, more reclusive.

Song Lan snaps on the comm and answers the hail.

[This is Captain Song Lan of the unaffiliated vessel Fuxue. How can I help Gusu Lan?]

He hears Cao Huan behind him, hovering in the doorway. He doesn’t take a seat in the co-pilot’s chair, which is puzzling. He’s never hesitated before.

[Captain Song, you are in Gusu Lan space without authorization. What is your business here?]

Song Lan is surprised. Gusu Lan is a bit of a contradiction, aggressively protective of their planet, but usually blasé about their corner of the galaxy, and he frowns. What are they really asking?

[I’m running transport to Caiyi,] he answers, a common enough occurrence.

Cao Huan steps forward, catching Song Lan’s attention, “Don’t get too close,” he signs with a warning frown.

He looks worried, and Song Lan wonders if he’s run afoul of Gusu Lan in the past. They’re notoriously particular about planetary laws, and since Cao Huan does seem to be some kind of engineer, it would make sense that he’d studied at Cloud Recesses.

Song Lan had no intention of getting within firing range of the flagship. The Lans might be known pacifists, but even pacifists can be pushed too far.

“I won’t,” he signs back. “I know what I’m doing.”

[Identify your cargo and passengers,] the flagship demands, and Song Lan sends them the manifest.

[Just carrying five tons of pepper from Sichuan,] he answers, the only thing in his cargo hold. It’s a fraction of Fuxue’s maximum capacity, but even without Cao Huan’s transport, Sichuan pepper is worth its weight in gold and would have been worth the trip.

The XO sounds amused when she responds. [Thank you for your cooperation, Captain Song. And thank you for your service, commander. Fly safe. Caiyi will be glad to see you.]

The transmission ends, and Song Lan looks at Cao Huan, whose face is blank.

“You did not register my transport?” he asks, and Song Lan shakes his head.

“You said you wanted to remain anonymous, and…” Song Lan flushes, embarrassed to admit the full reason. “You looked like you needed the peace.”

Cao Huan stares at him for another moment before he strides over, only three steps across the cramped bridge, and tips Song Lan’s head back to kiss him, hard and biting, a different kind of intensity than usual. Song Lan matches him, opening his mouth, giving Cao Huan whatever it is he needs to take.

“Here,” Cao Huan demands, hungry and breathless. “Now.”

And Song Lan gives him that too, bending him over the console and plunging into him, wrapping a hand in his hair when Cao Huan begs him for more, biting his shoulder when he hisses harder, holding him on his lap afterward and rubbing his back when he can’t stop the tears.

“Is it so awful?” Song Lan signs, the closest he’s come to asking what Cao Huan is running from or headed toward.

Cao Huan doesn’t answer for so long, Song Lan thinks he’s not going to, but finally he feels the smallest shake of his head.

“No,” he says, and then immediately, softer, “yes.”

Song Lan doesn’t ask why. He’s already overstepped.

“I’m sorry,” he says out loud, smoothing a hand through Cao Huan’s hair. It doesn’t come out quite right—his partial tongue can’t form every sound, but Cao Huan doesn’t seem to care. He just tucks himself deeper into Song Lan’s embrace.

Song Lan realizes that whatever he’d thought he’d feel, however much distance he’d thought he could keep between them, he’d been wrong, so wrong, so unbelievably wrong. But acknowledging his feelings doesn’t change anything. Cao Huan is still going to Caiyi. Song Lan will still fly away to another station, another planet. The only difference is the size of the empty space Cao Huan will leave behind.

They stay like that, huddled together, until the flagship is far enough away to be a memory.

⋆ Day 16 ⋆

After the encounter with Shuoyue, Cao Huan seems to withdraw. He still smiles, but they don’t reach his eyes. He still laughs, but the sound is a vacant echo. They still have sex, but it feels like goodbye. It is goodbye.

Song Lan wakes up alone the last morning. He dresses slowly, no more eager to reach Caiyi than Cao Huan anymore. He doesn’t interrupt Cao Huan when he finds him on the bridge, just watches his hands talk to Fuxue.

I’m sorry.

I’ll miss you.

Yes, I’ll miss him too.

I have no choice.

Song Lan only has a moment to wonder how Fuxue is talking to him before Cao Huan turns around, eyes red with unshed tears.

“Would you take me somewhere else if I asked?”

The words break over Song Lan like the surf on the sea, and he can’t immediately answer.

Cao Huan steps toward him, touching his face, eyes searching his expression, and tries to ask again. “Would you…”

The words trail off, and Song Lan wraps him in a crushing kiss. He knows, he knows what Cao Huan is asking. Not for just a ride. Song Lan asks himself if he is willing to walk away from his life, to hide this man he loves from everything he fears until he can face the world again.

Yes.

Undeniably yes.

It’s always been his weakness, he knows, this desire to hold and protect. But he also thinks it’s always been worth it. Eight years with Xingchen was worth it. Whatever time he has with Cao Huan is worth it.

Cao Huan unexpectedly sags in Song Lan’s arms. “It is too late,” he says against his throat, the words quivering like an arrow through both of them. “But thank you. I will not forget.”

[Captain, we’re being hailed,] Fuxue informs them.

“I can ignore it,” Song Lan signs in a rush, taking a risk. “We can run.”

Cao Huan sits in the co-pilot’s chair and shakes his head. “He will be able to follow.”

Song Lan takes another risk, a greater one. “If you ask your brother, he will let you go.“

He knows the ship, recognized the call sign on the monitors. Bichen. The Joint Senate Chairman’s ship, flown by the men who saved his life five years ago. He should have expected this, honestly. After Shuoyue, he should have realized Lan Wangji would come for his brother.

Lan Huan, known as Xichen, titled Zewu-jun, looks at Song Lan, face tightening into a blank mask, as fathomless as jade. He doesn’t argue, and he doesn’t ask how long Song Lan has known. “He might. I can not ask him to. I have to face this eventually.”

Song Lan exhales, defeated. Numb ice spreads through his fingers as he snaps on the neural comm and replies.

[This is Captain Song Lan. The channel is open.]

[Xiongzhang.]

The one word closes Ca...Lan Huan’s eyes. Tears spill from the corners, and Song Lan aches to wipe them away.

He doesn’t answer, but there is a faint blue glow from under his skin, around his hairline. The implant, Song Lan realizes. It must connect them. That’s why he knew Lan Wangji would be able to follow.

Lan Huan shoots him a quick look and switches from the silent discussion he seems to be having with his brother to a verbal one.

[Wangji, of course I am ready to go back to Cloud Recesses with you. Please reward Captain Song when we meet you on Caiyi. He...he has saved my life.]

They land in one of the station’s small shuttle bays—alone, for once. Evidently Lan Wangji wanted to greet his brother in private.

Before they disembark, Lan Huan clutches Song Lan’s coat sleeve. “I should have told you from the beginning. I am so sorry.”

Song Lan caresses his cheek and kisses him gently. “You owe me no apologies.”

He doesn’t say, I would have fallen in love with you either way.

The lights of the shuttle bay are too bright, and Song Lan has to blink to get used to them. By the time he can focus again, two men are striding toward him, one energetic and cheerful, the other calm and graceful, almost like a mirage, almost like deja vu.

“Song Lan! Man, are we glad to see you! You know you’re two days late? The Lans have been scouring the whole damn galaxy looking for you!” Wei Wuxian calls out as he approaches on light, bouncing feet. “Shugong is going to be so mad when realizes you sneaked by him.”

Song Lan shrugs unapologetically. Ca...Lan Huan is still behind him, still reluctant.

“I did tell shufu that you would be safe with Captain Song,” Lan Wangji adds, looking at his brother, but not approaching him. “But...he was concerned. We all were. There might still be people who do not wish for you to take your place at the head of Lan Nanotech again.”

Even though Lan Wangji is clearly not talking to Song Lan, he answers anyway, buying Lan Huan a few more seconds.

[We had trouble with pirates. Rogue Sky patched us up. I saw your hydroponics, Wei Wuxian,] he says with a pasted-on smile.

“What the fuck? You stopped to visit MianMian? And she didn’t let us know?” Wei Wuxian acts affronted, although Song Lan assumes he’s joking.

The Lan brothers seem to have slipped into another silent conversation.

“Zewu-jun asked her not to,” Lan Wangji says softly, and Wei Wuxian hmphs.

“No loyalty in the galaxy. You save a girl’s life, and she forgets to tell you your brother-in-law is alive.”

“Xiongzhang,” Lan Wangji interrupts Wei Wuxian’s ranting. “I have missed you.”

It takes a second, but finally, Lan Huan sighs, quietly, but enough that Song Lan hears the capitulation in it.

Lan Wangji, Hanguang-jun, chairman of the Joint Senate, hugs his brother like he thought he’d never see him again. It’s strange, Song Lan thinks, looking at how similar they are, that he could know one brother and take so long to recognize the other. Or maybe it’s that he didn’t want to know until he absolutely couldn’t avoid it any more. After all, what kind of future could there be for an unaffiliated pilot and the leader of the Gusu Lan faction?

None.

This is it, Song Lan thinks. He will go back to his family, to his life, as you always knew he would.

[I have cargo to unload, and as you said, I’m two days behind. If you don’t mind…] he says, already starting to walk away, needing to turn his back so they can’t see his face.

“Song Lan, you should at least let me upgrade your tech before you go. I have an in with Lan Nanotech,” Wei Wuxian calls after him.

Song Lan waves without turning around. [Maybe I’ll let you poke my brain next time.]

He makes it all the way to the cargo hold before the tears fall.

Strangely, he wishes he could talk to Xingchen, but he knows what Xingchen would say. Xingchen who met Song Lan the day he left his home on the mountain, followed him onto Fuxue, and never left. Xingchen would tell him to jump first and think later.

Station aides help him unload the pepper, and it takes less time than he expects to check all of Fuxue’s systems and resupply. He wants to leave before his feet grow roots and he can’t.

Lan Huan is waiting for him on the bridge. Song Lan’s heart tries to leap wildly from his chest until he registers the emptiness on Lan Huan’s face, and he almost gives in to the inevitable.

No, he decides. No. For once, he’s going to be Xingchen, headstrong and impulsive.

“Come with me,” he signs, and lets Lan Huan see him, all of him, all of what he wants. He knows the answer, but he has to at least try.

Lan Huan closes his eyes, and Song Lan wonders if that makes it easier to say no, but they snap back open, and he clenches his jaw stubbornly, facing this head on. Song Lan is oddly proud of him, even as his hopes shatter.

“I want to. In another life, I would. But I have a duty to Gusu Lan and you belong to the sky. Neither of us has any choices.”

“You’re wrong,” Song Lan signs with a frown. “We make the future. We make our own futures. If you ask me to stay, I will.”

“Lan-er,” Lan Huan whispers, but Song Lan can’t stop.

“You’ve lost enough to know...I’ve lost enough to know...when you have a chance for happiness, take it.”

Lan Huan shakes his head. “I can not ask you to share my… Song Lan, please don’t ask me to take your freedom, too.”

He looks shattered already, and Song Lan gives up. He doesn’t want to be one of the things that hurts Lan Huan.

“I’ll wait until you’re ready,” he signs, brushes trembling, needy fingers over Lan Huan’s forehead, tracing the curl of his ear before he finishes. “However long I have to.”

And then he lets Lan Huan go, turning his back, listening to the echo of his retreating footsteps dissipate into silence.

⋆ Days 17-197 ⋆

Life goes on.

And on.

And on.

He goes back to Rogue Sky first. This time, he’s the one who needs to be repaired. Qingyang takes one look at his face and frowns.

“Oh,” she says, and he almost laughs at all the things contained within a single word.

Oh, you loved him.

Oh, you love him still.

Oh, it didn’t work out.

She doesn’t ask any questions—she’s loved and lost too—just hands him the other half of a bottle of whiskey. They sit in the gardens, and he tells her all about it anyway.

Surprisingly, he feels better in the morning, even if his head has never felt worse. There’s someone who knows. Someone who understands. Someone to share the sadness with. Friendship has been waiting for him here the whole time, all he had to do was ask.

If nothing else, it was worth it for that.

Qingyang tells him some of what she knows of Lan Huan, who he was before the war and a little bit of who he was after. Song Lan reads the official reports of Xiandu’s death and understands the story between the lines. His heart breaks all over again for the agony of being both betrayer and betrayed. He wants to go back to Cloud Recesses so much, it’s sometimes a physical pain in his side.

Song Lan adds the Silk Run to his circuit, Yunmeng to Lanling, and it’s something different to do for a while. The fashion industry is demanding in an entirely new way, and he experiences the joys of designer meltdowns when the nanosilk they demand isn’t readily available, or the dye isn’t quite the right shade of violet, never mind that Song Lan is only the transporter, not the manufacturer. Also, he couldn’t care less.

It’s a surprise, one day, to get a transport request from Cloud Recesses to ferry the Lan ambassador to Emei, a Goldlighter commune. It’s not that he’s avoided Gusu Lan space, but as before, he hasn’t had a legitimate reason to go there either.

[Gusu Lan has a fleet,] he points out.

He can almost see the comm operator shrug. [I don’t question my orders, Captain Song. Transport is needed, and you were recommended. You don’t have to accept the commission.]

Song Lan does consider turning it down, but...life goes on, right?

He’s never actually been to Cloud Recesses and he is, frankly, in awe. It’s a fortress carved into a mountain, and he thinks Xingchen would have loved the white stone buildings, the snow at the top of the peak, and the waterfall that crashes through the center of the city. It’s one of the most beautiful places he’s ever seen.

The aerospace center is inexplicably nestled in a sprawling expanse of evergreen forest, and Song Lan understands why Lan Huan missed the towering trees.

“We couldn’t have competed with this,” he signs to Fuxue before he disembarks.

It’s even more beautiful outside. The sun is just the right touch of warmth on his cheeks, chirping birds dance in swooping patterns, and the air smells like sweet flowers and pine. It’s like a fairy tale that sinks painfully into the pit of his stomach. No, they can’t compete with this.

“Captain Song?”

Song Lan stops breathing.

He turns.

It’s not a delusion. Lan Huan is behind him. He’s wearing blue pants, a fitted white shirt, and a leather jacket. His still-long hair is pulled back into a ponytail and he’s holding a traveling bag. He looks radiant and more beautiful than Song Lan remembered, although he might be biased.

The corner of his mouth flickers at Song Lan’s inspection, like a smile trying to break through ice. “Captain, I have recently resigned from my employment, and I would...I would like to apply for a position on your crew.”

He takes a hesitant step toward Song Lan, who feels as light as the breeze blowing through the trees, afraid to move, afraid he’ll blow away and miss this perfect, glorious moment. It takes too long for his hands to react, to shape what he wants to say.

“Yes, I accept. You’re hired,” he answers, slashing the words as quickly as possible, before Lan Huan can change his mind.

Lan Huan’s smile cracks through fully this time, spreading slowly across his face, lighting his eyes. He takes a few more steps, all the steps he needs to bring him in front of Song Lan, and Song Lan finally moves, finally reaches out, finally pulls Lan Huan to him, kissing the smile he can still feel on his lips, kissing him until he can’t tell the difference between his breath and Lan Huan’s.

Lan Huan laughs, joyous and effervescent, snuggling against Song Lan’s chest. “Do you not need to hear my qualifications? I believe I would be an asset to your crew, Captain.”

Song Lan shakes his head. He doesn’t care, he doesn’t care about anything but the feel of Lan Huan in his arms, and answering would require letting go of him, but Lan Huan persists as though he has prepared a speech and is determined to deliver it. As though Song Lan would need convincing.

“I was a dreadnaught gunner in the war, although that was more than ten years ago. I speak...hmm...eleven or twelve languages. I’m good with tech,” Lan Huan adds, tapping his temple. “I’ve been told I make excellent tea.”

Song Lan can’t stop his fingers from caressing Lan Huan’s beloved face instead of forming words.

“And if nothing else,” Lan Huan says, leaning into Song Lan’s hands, “I wish to fly with you. I wish to see the galaxy with you.” Lan Huan brushes Song Lan’s cheek, smoothing away a tear Song Lan didn’t realize had fallen. “I wish to spend my life with you.”

Song Lan touches his forehead to Lan Huan’s, breathing in his scent, like the jasmine flowers on Rogue Sky, like the promise of spring, like a future that suddenly seems filled with vibrant colors again.

“It’s the only thing I need,” he signs. “You’re the only thing I need.”

Lan Huan takes his hand, threading his fingers through Song Lan’s as easily as if they’ve always been there and pulls him up the cargo bay ramp. Song Lan follows, laughing when Fuxue smugly greets the new XO.

“Captain Song, fly us away,” Lan Huan says with a brilliant smile, a peaceful smile Song Lan hasn’t seen before, and Song Lan kisses him again, because he can, because Lan Huan is here, because life goes on.

Life goes on, and so does love.

[echo-inthevoid]

Season 2 q&a and overall reaction

Jonny stealing everyone's names XD 

Is martin going to be ok!? I also need to know! 

He said no;-; 

ok ya, no one's gonna be ok. 

Ya, he must do sooo much research. 

Ya, except for "fatigue" lol.

Eyyy the mechanisms!! 

What's the red string brigade? Ok, I guess a group of fans theorizing about stuff. 

Oh ok so someone else did martins poetry. Ooh, there's more martin poetry out there! *grabby hands*

Ok ya, Alex clarifying that Jon isn't stupid he just makes poor decisions. Probably if he'd paused and thought about it (like I did lol, I had to go do some stuff in the middle of that ep and thought about it a whole bunch lol) instead of immediately going out and buying an axe and further isolating himself and panicking immediately he probably would have figured it out. This is why it's bad to panic in a crisis guys. 

Eyyy! Jonny's parents voiced Gertrude and Leitner! That's so cool. 

XD Jonny grumbling about having to work with his parents. 

Hmm, I hadn't really thought of Gertrude being like a mother figure in the story? She just seems very cut-throat I guess from what Leitner said. Idk so far I've been very suspicious of her. Especially since that one statement where her photo burned a whole bunch of people or something. She just seems very shady... 

Alex chortling over Jonny's pain. XD

Side note, Every time there's a q&a I just can't stop noticing Jonny's voice going in and out of archivist range? Like most of the time I'm just listening along and then he'll say a sentence a bit grumblier and my brains immediately like "ARCHIVIST! That's THE ARCHIVIST!!" 

Martin would be the last one alive in Friday the 13th! It's official! 

(Is it bad that this gives me hope)

Jon likes Nonfiction, documentaries, and probably collects something just a little bit weird. *writes down for use in potential fics* 

also while im at it I remember jon saying he dislikes coffee at one point,  and so many people have him liking coffee in their fics! This has been your daily reminder of that fact because ever since then it keeps bugging me lol. (But also do whatever u want.)

Alex's spluttering sounds so much like Martin.

Yes!! I want to hear jon sing!! Yes! Musical Episode When!!?

Ah yes yes yes! All the characters are so unique!!? How does he do it!! 

Ya, it being in audio format sometimes makes it hard to understand what's happening in the live-action bits. (Live-action is the wrong word but u know what I mean.)

Oh ok ya, how he mentioned he got a pipe was quite clever I didn't realize that that's why he mentioned it at all. 

Ooh, there's a manga where there's something similar to Michael? I'll have to look that up later...

XD Alex and Jonny arguing about apples. 

Ok, so all the statements we're hearing ARE for reals. I kinda assumed but good to have it confirmed.

They used to hang out together!!? Work function curry nights!! ;-; 

Ya Ya! Who made the leitners!?

"You are assuming a book needs to be written" ...ok then. (but it has to have been created somehow??? Did they just spring fully formed from the powers? why? And why take the form of books?)

Alex's mischievous laugh about whether jon has friends *trembles in fear*

Yes!! Micheal is so good! I'm so happy they love him too! Yesyes! His laugh! 

Ah Yes!! Mary kaey was so creepy! 

XD yes yes yes fatigue was written on zero sleep, I knew it! 

Akskdjdkd I love them so much. Also, I've looked up Michaels voice actor luke booys and he does some other horrory type sketches n stuff and I kiiinda want to do a little animatic with some of those but it's Michael like annoying some poor soul lost in his halls... I think that'd be fun. I wonder if anyone's done that yet? If so someone send me the links I neeeed iiitt :3

Season 2 summary:

Uuuuu ya so this season was really good. I kinda listened to it in bursts of about ten episodes every couple weeks and then have been saving up the reactions to post later so these are usually going up about a week or so after I actually listened to the episode just FYI. 

I also do have a lot of spoilers cause I can't keep myself away from fanfic and people don't always tag for spoilers and I kiiinda wana know what's coming beforehand anyway? Idk it's hard man I get very stressed about what might happen and then also listening to too much at a time is too spooky for my poor little heart so I gotta read the less spooky fanfic to fulfill the hyperfixation you see. (If anyone has fanfic with spoilers only up to season 2 that'd be great btw) 

Anyway, I try not to take spoiler type stuff into account unless I'm just so sure of it I can't really not acknowledge that I know about it. 

Also, can I just talk about Michael for a minute?? Cause he's such a unique character? And I guess maybe there are other characters like him but I haven't ever seen one -tho to be fair tma is only like the third horror thing I've ever really got into (the other two are the SCP Foundation in its various forms and Little Nightmares. Hence why I keep making reference to SCP it's really the only thing I know similar to this.) But he's such a cool concept!!? Like someTHING that still has a personality? He's so not human? Like I get what he says but also I don't really? Idk im pretty sure he's an avatar right? Right?? Idk if that means he was a person at some point? But all this to say that he is probably the most inhuman character I've come across so far and I'm trying to figure out what it is about him that's so "other" to me? Like... I don't really know what Micheal's deal is? he seems to want to be sort of a neutral mischief-maker but also it seems like he keeps getting invested. But also I just love the way he talks about himself. Like he's a monster that has a personality and is fully intelligent but isn't just evil but isn't neutral either and certainly isn't benevolent. Like he's so complex and just,,,, the idea of a "thing" that's got a personality?? I love it? Kind of like dryads or spirits of things? Like the idea that after a long time things gain personality just by existing? Not that that's what Michael is necessarily? but that same sort of concept applies to him I think. Like the way he IS the maze and wants to help but wants to just watch but wants to kill them all. He's just so interestinggggggg. (And another vision of what jon could become?)

 also "es Mentiras" is a beautiful name 💕

So are him and not-Sasha avatars? Not-Sasha also seems completely inhuman and I was under the impression that avatars were (or used to be) human? Or are they like personifications of their power? Do all the powers have personifications of themselves. not-Sasha seems even less human than Michael? Like she seems to just really genuinely enjoy causing fear? Tho I guess we didn't really get to hear a lot of her. She just seemed kinda gleefully angry most of the time we heard from her. Was she... Human once!???

Anyway. Also, can I just talk about leitners line about jon belonging to the eye!!? Just..*chefs kiss* hnnnngg I need more jon grappling with that. I just need more everyone dealing with the fallout post all of the finallies ok? I still need more of jon angsting over his worms scars and stuff and now I also need jon freaking out about belonging to a fear god power thing. 

Also Martin! Is Martin ok? He sure did a lot of yelling which he doesn't usually? Look I love him and he actually thinks before he acts (unlike SOME people *looks at jon*) and he writes poetry and it is pretty good poetry ok!! And he cares about everyone and just wants a happy ending and aaaaa😭

Petition to get some statements from Martin's pov tho? I mean that's not gonna happen cause Jon's the archivist but I want more martin pov!! Maybe we can get some of his poem tapes??? Pls????? 

I feel so bad for Tim. It sounds like he's kinda fallen into despair.

Also Elias!!? Is showing his spooky side!!? He can control cameras and beat a man to death with a pipe!!? This is his "place of powerr"!!? I am afeared!!? At least jon knows he shouldn't trust him now. Oh jeez, I wonder if jon will listen back to the tape and know what happened. Thhhatsss rough. Oh dear, I hope he doesn't feel guilty cause Leitner did keep trying to hurry him and now everyone thinks it was him. Even martin thinks he did it? Wich like I kinda want to hear more of his thoughts on that? How much does he believe that jon did it? Tim certainly seems pretty certain but he's a bit biased and cynical right now so. 

And they were in the maze for DAYS? 

Now I need martin recovering from being stuck with Tim in Michaels maze for days being angry and worried and hungry etc... Dksjdksa knowing jon could be dying RIGHT NOW and there's nothing he can do. Please someone give me the fic links if this exists!! I've already written like 5 drabbles based entirely on spoilers/other fics (which I'll probably post (w/ links to their inspirations) once I'm caught up and can make sure I'm not just completely demolishing cannon lol. 

Leitner didn't even scream or yell or anything when he was murdered. Literally the chillest dude ever. F

Overall super great, Elias is terrifying, let's dive into the next season!!! I've got 2 seasons to finish in like, less than 2 or so weeks(?) if I wana be caught up by season 5 hhhh,,,

Better get started I guess. 

[yournameoverandover]

Dear Taylor

Hey chica, so I might be a lil wine drunk right now. And you’ll probably never see this... which is fine... but I’m going through a thing today where I’m feeling so much that I have to write it all down or I’ll never get it all out of my head. And I feel like you can relate!

Anyways, I just wanted to say THANK YOU for making the magical song that is ME!  You always do this like, exactly when I need it in my life.  And reputation gave me some of the most solid love tracks I’ve ever heard right before I walked down the aisle last fall.  CIWYW and New Year’s Day are seriously, honestly, goosebump-inducing and always make me think of him in the best way.

I wasn’t sure where we’d go from here. How many purely happy love tracks can you make, right? And THEN. and THEN. I found out about a month ago that my job was letting me go. I’m a teacher, and that stuff happens, but it had never happened to ME before. I was devastated- I felt betrayed, and lost, and alone.

And in the final days of the Rep era, I listened to that masterpiece of an album in a whole new light.  Every time I hear a new song of yours, I cry. Happy, sad, angry, doesn’t matter. Your music does that to me (and I’m an emotional wreck, so) and I am so happy that it does!!  Well, I cried all over again hearing it.  Every new life experience brings out something new for me in your music; this time, I heard Rep and I heard confidence.  I heard excitement for a new beginning (Ready for It?) embracing myself and celebrating those difficult choices I’ve made in my life (IDSB), and rising up from the dead when everyone thought I would crumble and quit (LWYMMD).  I heard stories of doomed relationships coming to an end (Getaway Car) and removing power from people who’ve hurt me (TIWWCHNT), and finding strength in love when everything else is shit (CIWYW, New Year’s Day).

But one thing I didn’t have was something to help me really celebrate what I bring to the table. Finding out that I wasn’t what someone wanted, without knowing WHY (and accepting that I’ll never know why) has driven me absolutely nuts.  It’s made me question everything about myself, and what I do at a daily basis; not in a way of “how I can improve?” but in the unhealthy mindset of “is this why I’m not good enough?”  And I revisited your poems and reflected on how this place of work has killed the old me and brought up someone... different.  This woman is someone I am unhappy with, and someone I am happy to let go of for good.  I am ready to disappear from my current self and reappear as a new creation.

So, thank you for writing ME! Thank you for giving me that positive mantra to cite when things get really hard or scary or frustrating at work. “I’m the only one of me, baby that’s the fun of me... and I promise that you’ll never find another like me.” <3  Thank you for rescuing me from my dark thoughts and my self-doubt. I love you always!

So excited for TS7! 

-Lindsey

[poetryasf-ck]

Good Grief #1 - Catherine Wilson

This is a new project. What we’re going to do is talk to poets who have written and performed deeply personal work informed by grief, loss and/or trauma, and ask them how this affected them, and whether or not they’d do it again. As such, these posts will talk about traumatic events including assault, genocide and suicide.

In the last ‘Eight Poems…’ podcast with Claire Askew we talked about the tendency for poets - amongst other artists - to explore personal instances of loss, grief and trauma in their work, and how it can negatively affect them. There’s been some discussion about autobiographical works of this nature: how performing them over a sustained period of time (for example, a month-long festival run) can negate the cathartic effect by making the poet relive the event, and whether slams encourage performers to expose wounds that haven’t healed properly in return for heading to nationals via your devastating pathos.

This is a topic that, I feel, needs exploring in more detail. Why do poets do this? What are their reasons, and how do they feel about it in hindsight?

Photo by Chris Belous.

The first person we’re talking to is Catherine Wilson. This is specifically because of a guest slot I did at Loud Poets’ Fringe show a few years ago, when I was on after Catherine who was part of the regular bill. I was about to do a poem involving increasingly bizarre facts about the actor Robert Pattinson, which is generally considered to not be a serious piece, whereas Catherine’s poem was about the death of her sister.

In order not to give the audience mood whiplash Kevin McLean had to warm the audience back up before I went on stage (Loud Poets now let you know what tones the different parts of their show want to hit to prevent this sort of thing happening). As a result of both the poem’s content and knowing this sort of situation might arise, Catherine was visibly distressed afterwards. This stayed in my mind as we were less than halfway through a full Edinburgh Fringe run, that this was an experience she was going through daily.

As a result I asked Catherine to help me write the questions we’re asking poets in these articles, and to be the first person to answer them.

1. What motivated you to write about grief/loss/trauma?

Initially, when I first started writing about grief/loss or trauma, I think I did it because I saw it as the done thing. For context, my sister was killed in the Dunblane Massacre in 1996 and my father also died before I was born. I looked at my lived experience and thought "I can make a good poem out of this." Looking back this wasn't the right motivation at all! However, now, I'm glad I wrote what I did. It really was a fantastic first step into learning how to express myself about things that I don't often get to talk about - either because of awkwardness or not wanting to bring down the mood. Poetry offered me a place to admit that I wasn't okay and talk about it without being interrupted or edited.

Now, when I write on similar topics, it's a much more thoughtful process. I really think about how what I'm writing is going to look on stage - whether I go too far down a dark rabbit hole and need to pull myself back a little and mostly, how it will affect me personally to perform this piece again and again

2. How does performing this piece change how you look at what happened to you?

I think it has totally changed my perspective. It's given me my own way of articulating my experience which has naturally re-shaped how I conceive of it. By giving it words I've changed how I relate to it. I think too, that experiencing loss is a very de-personalising experience: you lose yourself a wee bit along the way in your grief. By writing I've put myself back in the narrative and marked out the place within the story that is mine.

3. How do you separate artistic performance from lived personal experience?

I am notoriously bad at this. When performing about my losses it's nearly always pretty much exactly my experience, I don't really write it through a fictional lens. My one tactic is to always remember that each poem is one poem, not the poem. I don't have to sum up absolutely everything with one poem - I can focus on one mood or capture one moment. Not only does this probably make my poetry better, but it stops me feeling guilty or worried about forgetting or neglecting to include something.

4. Do you find yourself affected negatively by performing this piece? If so, how do you look after yourself? 

I do find performing my pieces about loss more and more hard the more that I perform them. I always ensure I have someone in the audience I trust (usually this is my partner). At the end of the day, I have to constantly examine why I'm performing that piece: if it's because I've been booked/asked to or really want to - then great. That's a motivation. If I'm really not feeling it that day, or will upset myself then I tend to not do it. It's not healthy to constantly upset yourself onstage for the sake of performance. If it still makes you cry every time you read it, then chance is you need to process your feelings a bit more. 

5. Do you practice any aftercare after performing this piece (either for yourself or audiences)? (E.g., talking to audience members who are upset, taking some time out after your performance to ground yourself, ensuring you perform in places where you feel safe etc.)

My main piece of aftercare is recognising when to draw the line. Recently, I performed at the March for Our Lives anti-gun protest, I spent two hours there and spoke to three members of the press. I knew more press was coming, but I decided I was tired and wanted to go. 

When I perform this piece as part of a larger show, I would normally hang back and wait for some of the audience to leave. If someone is really upset I want to prioritise actually looking after them. What I don't want to do, however, is subject myself to a lot of "clumsy samaritanism": nearly everyone in Britain remembers Dunblane, it's a huge part of our history and our only school shooting. Therefore loads of people, if they see you, want to stop you and tell you where they were when it happened or how they remember it. They are processing meeting a Dunblane family member and the only way they can relate is telling you that memory. There's nothing wrong with it, they don't mean to do anything malicious at all - however - I still want to avoid it. By the time I've performed I'm normally hungry and tired anyway, and want to look after someone seriously upset. Being stopped constantly by ten or so people as I'm trying to leave by people who kind of want you to tell them "it's all okay" is too laborious and exhausting. So I normally hang back to pack up,  or hide for a wee while, or my partner helps me escape a wee bit.

Image from TedX talk

6. Do you do any content warnings for this piece? Why?

Sadly, a lot of promoters will still stop you from doing content warnings, which is unfortunate because if I saw a poem similar to mine, I would probably have to excuse myself (because of my own experience). I don't watch other poets do poems about guns or shootings - I have to leave because it's so uncomfortable (often because they don't actually have the experience themselves, but that's another story!)

I rarely do this poem at shows or in sets, if I did I would definitely give a blanket warning and also assure the audience I was totally comfortable with them leaving and/or coming back if they needed to.

7. Does the artist owe any kind of protection or safeguarding to their audience? 

I think so. Whilst I should be allowed to speak honestly about my experience, I also need to have context in mind. Most of the time, people haven't knowingly come to see me expecting to see me do very intense pieces about trauma. Most of the time I'm part of someone else's event or gig. It's not fair, then, to thrust my trauma on the room without at least some gentle framing: whether that be ending my set with another poem to soften the blow and allow breathing room, or doing content warnings.

8. Do you believe writing about areas such as grief, loss or trauma is a form of healthy catharsis or memorialisation?

I definitely think writing is one of the best, if not the best, form of catharsis and memorialisation, precisely because you get to decide what feelings you want to process or how you want to remember that person or event. It is, however, changed with performance, and I think it's important to examine WHY you want to perform this piece.

9. Do you believe artists whose work heavily focuses on their own traumas or losses should also attempt to explore other topics?

I definitely do. Whilst not every poet is going to write silly or funny poems, it's definitely not healthy to just write about your losses and traumas. Even if they never hit the stage, I think it's important to also write about what makes you happy.

10. What kind of warnings signs would you point out to someone new to poetry or performance who was performing about their traumas?

I have three:

If a poet cries, breaks down or is deeply unhappy or irritable when they do that poem, I don't think they're ready to be performing it. It's natural to be upset, but with an element of professional performance it's not healthy.

If a poet forces themselves to do the poem. If you have to push yourself to do it every time you perform, it's probably best to shelve it for a while.

If the piece becomes overly performed and completely separate from the lived experience. If a poet is doing this piece and shutting themselves down, or going into autopilot whilst they do the poem - this really isn't healthy. It's a numbing affect to shut yourself off from your real feelings.

What I would say about these warning signs is that the same poet can have all three, or none in the space of one week. Sometimes you feel everything really intensely and sometimes it's totally fine and really cathartic. I think it's about making sure you check in with your motivation for performing, how you feel on the day, and making sure you're in a space you feel comfortable in.

Catherine Wilson can be found on Twitter: @CWilsonPoet

Her website is http://www.catherinewilsonwriter.co.uk/

While you’re here, would you be able to review Poetry as Fuck on iTunes or Stitcher please? Or if you’re feeling flush, please contribute to our Patreon.

[dailyaudiobible]

09/09/2018 DAB Transcript

Isaiah 3:1-5:30, 2 Corinthians 11:1-15, Psalms 53:1-6, Proverbs 22:28-29

Today is the 9th day of September. Welcome to the Daily Audio Bible. I am Brian. It’s great to be here with you today as we turn the knob and step through the threshold of a shiny, sparkly, new week. And for some reason this seems to happen every seven days. Here we are at the beginning of another week. And this week we're going to read from the New International Version. And just a heads up, there's a fly…a fly flying around me and continually landing on my microphone. If all of a sudden you hear a giant smash and crash…that’s just me taking a swipe…though we’ll try to keep that at a minimum. So we’re picking up where we left off yesterday, which is always the custom, and that will take us back into the book of Isaiah that we began yesterday and we’ll read chapter 3 verse 1 through 5:30 today.

Prayer:

Father, we thank you for the gift of your word and as we move into this new week we anticipate all that you will speak to us through your word and we invite your Holy Spirit. Come, Holy Spirit, well up within us, lead us into all truth. Guide us on the steps and decisions that we have before us in this week, center us in your word, help us to recall what your word has spoken into our hearts as we make these decisions and carry these postures and have these conversations that are yet out in front of us. May we represent you in all things and may we do it well because you are leading the way. Come Holy Spirit we pray. In Jesus’ name we ask. Amen.

Announcements:

dailyaudiobible.com is the website, its home base, its where you find out what's going on around here. So, be sure to check in and check it out.

As I mention often, the Prayer Wall is there, which is a continual place to bring your burdens and a continual place to come and shoulder burdens through prayer with your brothers and sisters. The Prayer Wall is at dailyaudiobible.com. It's also available or accessible in the app. And we have always been a community of prayer. So, it’s one of the distinctives about us. So, make sure that you stay connected and in this way. Check out the community section at dailyaudiobible.com for all of the links to the different places on social media that we are, including the Daily Audio Bible women's Facebook page that Jill posts to continually and at the DAB friends group, which is a constant conversation, and the Daily Audio Bible Facebook page. So, you find all the links to all this at dailyaudiobible.com in the Community Section.

If you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible, you can do that at dailyaudiobible.com as well. And I thank you humbly for your partnership. There is no way we would be able to do this if we didn't do this together and that's always been our story. So, thank you. There’s a link on the homepage of  dailyaudiobible.com. If you’re using the app, you can press the Give button in the upper right-hand corner or, if you prefer, the mailing address is PO Box 1996. Spring Hill Tennessee 37174.

And, as always if you have a prayer request or comment, 877-942-4253 is the number to dial. 

And that's it for today. I'm Brian I love you and I'll be waiting for here is tomorrow. 

Community Prayer and Praise: 

Hi family. This is his little Sharif from Canada and I wanted to call and thank everyone who prayed for the family reunion because it was awesome. I was on the waiting list but a spot opened up so I was able to go. And I know many people couldn’t be there. So, I just wanted to share with you what it was like for me. To be honest, I felt really nervous to go, to travel all that way by myself, and also not to know anyone when I got there but even as I was driving into the camp where the reunion was happening a couple ladies waved to me as if they knew me and then as I walked toward the building a lady bounded up to me and shook my hand as if we were long lost friends and by the end of the reunion I felt like I really was among family and I just wish it would have lasted longer. So, I want to thank, specifically Janet from Kansas, Janisa from Florida, Cindy from Seattle for being so wonderful and embracing me so thoroughly. And also, there was a lady who spoke to me during worship, I didn’t catch your name but you told me how the Lord felt about my special times with him and that message was so right on and meant so much to me, I will not forget it. It’s written on my heart. So, thank you so much for that. Charlotte Phillips I’m praying for your grandson Tristin born two months premature. Also, Karen from St. Louis, it was great to meet you. You inspire me and so many others. If I start to name names I’ll forget somebody. So, thank you so much for being so wonderful family. I wish I’d been able to meet more of you but next time. Maybe they’ll make it a little bit longer next time. Anyway, it was great. Thank you to everyone who made it possible. Love you guys more than ever. God bless. Bye for now.

Hello Daily Audio Bible family. I’m so happy to be a first-time caller. I am Grandma Love and I have a significant issue with my dad who is 94 years old and is in hospice. At this point we have petitioned a court to appoint a conservator. His family has not cooperated. So, it’s two years later and they’re just now discovering that all of his property and all of his money was transferred to her daughters. I believe his wife has been __ by her family. They do not recognize their marriage because they come from the Philippines and the Philippines do not recognize a second marriage nor divorce…and she never got a divorce from her first husband. But at this point my dad is in hospice and is unable to speak, unable to walk and is not being visited by anyone except for me. And I reall,y really ask for your prayers that he be comforted and these last few days of his life, that he feel loved and cared for and surrounded by the Holy Spirit of the Lord. And I talked to him and he agrees, he was able to nod yes and no, that he knows that he’s gonna be in heaven soon and with the people that have passed before us. But he is so, so unhappy and so lonely and so distressed at the betrayal, that it has caused him significant problems. They have also placed him in a horrible decision, horrible places…that was horrible to me. And fairly nice when they came around and we were working together pretty well and then they took him into a nursing home and he can’t get out of bed. There’s no room in the nursing home. They’re way too busy to even deal with him…they…they can barely…

Hello Daily Audio family. I am a first-time caller. My name is Isabel, I’m from Australia in Melbourne. I just wanted to thank God for the Hardin family for Brian, Jill, and China, and the family. And also just wanted to thank Blind Tony for his amazing poems. You definitely need to write a book. And also for Victoria Soldier for your prayers. You’re such an amazing prayer warrior. And everybody who is part of this beautiful family. This campfire has honestly blessed me so much and I just want to praise God and thank God for all the DABbers because you are an important part of my life now. You know, just coming up on a year and half now and I’ve enjoyed every single day listening to the Daily Audio Bible. I do have a prayer request, an important request. My children, Priscilla and Joseph, with my first marriage, my ex-husband divorced me 10 years ago. I am now remarried to an amazing Christian man. But my daughter is getting married next month in October, the 27th and her dad is just cutting her off and also my son out of his life and he’s not really, you know, communicating with __ things of God and he’s __ . If you could please pray for him. He’s got a lot of major problems and he’s also been sexually abused that God showed me. If you can please pray for him. But the main important prayer request is you could please pray that he comes to my daughter’s wedding because she is feeling really sad that her dad’s not going to give her away and she wants him to be part of her life but he doesn’t want to. So, if you can please pray for this miracle that God can just do a miracle in this relationship. Thank you, DABbers. May God bless you. I will be calling back again and thank you for all your prayers. God bless you.

Hi. This is Vanessa in Texas and it’s been a while since I’ve called and I’m behind in my listening, but I started catching up again this week and I’d like to ask prayer for my friend Andrew in St. Louis. We’ve been friends for several years but virtually like this community. We’ve never actually met in person but we…we chat at work and have developed this really good friendship. And he…he’s going through a time of…a lot of self-doubt and he suffered a long time from depression. And a year ago he almost attempted suicide and instead of…instead of trying to end his life that night he reached out to me and I was able to…to help them and to talk to him. And so here we are a year later and he’s __ God and going to church and feeling much better. But he’s struggling. He doesn’t know what to do with his life. And, so, he could really use some prayers for guidance on what to do next, where his next steps are. He wants to do better, he wants to live a happy life, a simple life, an uncomplicated one but he just doesn’t know where or what. And he’s willing to do anything. So, yeah, if you guys could just pray for him, that the Lord will point him in a good direction in life and he’ll keep walking on a path with God. That would be awesome. Thank you very much. And I hope you’re all doing well. Have a great day.

[fluentlanguage]

#clearthelist July 2018: French, Welsh, And Why I Am Not Learning Chinese Yet

Welcome to my latest language learning update through #clearthelist. Clear the List is a support and accountability blog group sharing monthly language learning goals.

The Fluent Show

Fantastic month for the Fluent Show as we reached 270,000 downloads in under a year. YAY!! Thank you so much.

I loved the conversation Lindsay and I had in the episode “What is Fluency, What Is Mastery…And How Do You Get There?”, my top pick for the month. Every ambitious learner should hear discussion, so do check it out.

What Happened in June

June was always going to be a busy one, because it was the first launch of my brand new course German Uncovered. This is a story-based German course going from zero all the way to B1. There was much to do, and it meant a few early mornings and evening shifts. If you’re on the course, give me a shout. I’m so excited to finally share it with you.

In June, I also attended my first Canterbury Pride celebration and took a lovely week off travelling to Marseille. I also attended the People's Vote March in London.

Learning Welsh

Welsh is still my main language, though it came up a little short this month.

Cymraeg Gogledd neu Cymraeg De?

One thing that slowed me down was my belief that I should switch from the Northern Welsh accent (which I’d studied for 2+ years) to the Southern Welsh accent. Why? Because I moved from North to South in England.

This turns out to be a silly idea. When people tell me “everyone will understand you no matter what accent”, they are right. When they say “only a few words are different”, they aren’t right. Even though it’s possible to understand both types of Welsh, learning to speak them both is harder than I thought. Just look at these two sentences:

1. North Welsh: Dw i eisiau gorffen cyn yfory.

2. South Welsh: Dw i’n moyn cwpla cyn yfory.

As far as I know, these are supposed to mean the same thing, but all native Welsh speakers will understand both.

My tutor at the Welsh class I attended told me “no mixing your accents”, which has made the idea of switching what I’ve studied next to impossible. My italki tutor is a lot more chilled, saying it doesn’t really matter as long as I’m not taking formal tests.

Conclusion: Welsh accents are confusing. I think I’ll declare Project Southern Welsh something I don’t want to continue. I stopped making progress because I felt trapped in this whole accent confusion, when it’s not that relevant. For now, I’ll speak how I speak and let life go on.

Let’s look at the goals from last month.

Listening

I had hoped to continue watching the series Ffit Cymru. But the show’s focus on weight loss as a measure of all good in the world started getting on my nerves. So I watched perhaps one more episode, and my listening in Welsh came up a little short.

Reading

I had hoped to finish the book Sgwp (there should be a ^ on the w but my keyboard can’t cope), and I’m getting behind on this one. But I did take my edition of the magazine Lingo Newydd with me and read it on the beach in France. Result!

One cool new resource I’m using in Welsh now is parallel.cymru, a website featuring parallel articles in Welsh and English. I’m loving the fact that I can read more on screen now, and I even submitted an article myself.

Click here to read my article on parallel.cymru in English or Welsh

Speaking

My goal was to fit in two 30 minute sessions with my tutor Gwyneth, and I did succeed. Scheduling these in advance was a huge help. I was a worse speaker than usual due to the accent kerfuffle, and due to speaking French for 10 days this month. But overall, mission accomplished.

Writing

I wanted to stick with poetry and write a haiku in Welsh, but I didn’t get it done. I didn’t even write much else. WARGH.

Daily Contact Goal

In May, I logged 14 days of contact with the Welsh language. Pretty good considering I was very busy with the German course, and also spent 10 days in France. My most used resources were Lingo Newydd, Ap Geiriaduron, and italki.

Speaking French In France

My second language of June was French, as I recorded my first bilingual podcast in French and English and then took some time off in Marseille. I had a great time, and noticed the difference a week in the country makes.

I was able to speak French pretty well anyway, as it’s a language I’ve studied on and off for 22 years. The week in France worked wonders for my comprehension and my speaking confidence. I refreshed all those everyday phrases like “you’re welcome”, “that was awesome”, or “for takeaway, please”.

I also learnt I enjoy being not-perfect at French. Here in England, I speak a foreign language almost every minute of every day. It doesn’t feel all that foreign anymore. But in French, I am still a learner. There’s a challenge, and that felt great because challenge means progress.

We didn’t stay in the main tourist quarter, and so a lot of people were amused and curious about this German and English couple where only one half speaks French. My husband relied on my French skills and I could tell that speaking the language was an advantage almost everywhere.

Good to Remember: People Switch To English For THEIR Reasons

In a busy restaurant, the host told me how to get to my table in French. It was noisy, and I didn’t understand what he was saying. I said Pardon? and he switched to English. I told him that I do speak French and he can speak to me in French.

His answer? “It is very busy here and I can speak English. In other words: He was too busy to slow down. He didn’t care if I speak French well, and he wasn’t judging my language skills. This was about getting something done.

If you’ve ever been in a similar situation, remember that people switch languages because it’s best for them. When someone switches to English, it’s often because they have other things on their mind than your language progress. Click to read more about this and get tips for dealing with the situation.

Goals For July 2018

Now that I’m in the intermediate haze with Welsh, I find it more important than ever to keep going forward. Happy to put French to one side and focus on Welsh again this month, especially because at the start of August I want to go to the National Eisteddfod again!

Listening

So disappointed I can’t watch the World Cup with Welsh commentary! I need to get ready for the Eisteddfod so it’s time to hear a lot of Welsh. I will Listen to Welsh For 90 Minutes Every Week Doesn’t matter if it’s the Pigion podcast or a show on S4C, the most important thing is that I hear a lot of Welsh right now.

Reading

Try and Finish The Book Sgwp Same as last month!

Speaking

Have 1 Long Lesson and 3 Conversations Loved having shorter classes in June (I scheduled 30 minutes at lunch times) and I’ll keep going with that, but as we know I struggle with yes/no in Welsh so I’ll also book a long lesson to drill these specifically.

And it’s time to catch up with my exchange partner!

Writing

Every month, I read about poetry and I read some poetry. But I’ve not written any. Goal: Write 1 Poem, Any Kind

Maybe asking myself to even to a Haiku was too much, a hurdle in front of getting started. So I will dial down the ambition one more. Easy.

Finally there is one more language I am playing around with, but here’s why I’m not learning Chinese right now.

Chinese

I’m still not learning Chinese. I’m going at the pace of two words a week. There’s so much in this language: words, tones, characters, all of it unknown to me. I can best describe this as a Prep phase, way before “learning the language”. I don’t want to put pressure on myself at this stage at all, and all I’m doing is driven by curiosity.

I had a similar phase in Russian and Welsh, where I’m currently at A1 and B1. Prep phases feel so valuable to me, especially when the other language is different from the ones I already know.

The Prep Phase And My Languages

Here’s an overview of the languages I know:

I speak German and English at native levels. (C2)

I’m fluent in French (C1?).

I’m conversational in Welsh, if the conversation partner helps me. (B1)

I’m somewhat conversational in Spanish, if the conversation partner helps me loads. (A1-A2)

I can read Spanish, Italian, some Latin. (A1)

I can read Cyrillic and exchange basic pleasantries in Russian. (A1)

I’ve never done much with Asian languages.

If I started to learn Romanian or Swedish I probably wouldn’t need a Prep phase. But with a new unfamiliar system, I find this extremely useful. If I decide to take this further, dabbling with tones and apps could turn into learning Chinese for real. But for now, I’m just learning about the language.

How Was YOUR Month?

Do you have a Prep phase too? Are you struggling with accents in your target language?

I would love to read about what you’re up to in the comments below!

If you want to join the linkup and share your own goals for the month, hop on to Clear The List with Lindsay Williams and Shannon Kennedy.

[yeolkisses]

All the evens

Wkbpwbjpe Maddy you’re trying to kill me I swear (but thank you this kept me busy lol and it was fun to do)

2 - do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintery day?

Yessss I love it. Cold air is a blessing.

4 - how do you take your coffee/tea?

For coffee, I put a ton of creamer in. Tea is just a no for me.

6- do you keep plants?

Yes! A bonsai, a couple cacti, and an aloe vera.

8 - what artistic medium do you use to express your feelings?

Does writing count??? I’m not very artistic 😅 but I consider myself a decent writer and poet. I feel like words are the easiest way to explain yourself so others can understand you better. It’s specific. Painting and drawing, etc. are also good too of course, I’m just not any good at them 😂 and I feel like they’re a bit more questionable. They have different meanings to people. But that’s what allows people to connect over them; seeing different viewpoints of the same thing. It kind of shows what type of person you are.

10 - do you sleep on your back, side, or stomach?

My side or my back. I can’t do stomach 😂 it’s just too uncomfortable for me.

12 - what’s your favorite planet?

Hm. I don’t really know. I guess Neptune or Uranus??? They’re pretty.

14 - if you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like?

TBH I don’t even know who my best friend is anymore lately Well it would probably be a bit of a mess 😂 but messy in an organized way??? We’re pretty tidy people, at least when it comes to our rooms, but we (or I, at least) am still a little bit cluttery. I think it would look nice. Not necessarily modern, but just kind of homely.

16 - what’s your favorite pasta dish?

Spaghetti & meatballs OR chicken alfredo. Probably spaghetti and meatballs though.

18 - tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up.

God they just brought it up today. I swear I’m not as stupid as they make me seem though!!!!! So one time at lunch (like YEARS ago) they were talking about sports and I wasn’t really paying attention (because I’m not a sports person) and they asked me something and I think I said, “I’m not into baseball.” And of course with my luck they were talking about football. So :)))) There are always exaggerations about how I must think a homerun is in basketball, etc.

20 - what’s your favorite eye color?

I mean…it doesn’t really matter to me?? I don’t like thinking about eyes which you already know, so I’ve never really considered a favorite eye color. But I hateeeee the colored contacts people wear, especially when they wear two different colors (one of my friend’s ex-boyfriends used to wear one silver and one bright green one and it was hideous). Anyway, if I had to choose a color, I guess I’d say brown. It’s under-appreciated sometimes 🙂

22 - are you a morning person?

It fluctuates. Sometimes I am, sometimes I’m not. Especially if the reason I’m waking up is to go to something I don’t want to do, then I am NOT a morning person at all.

24 - is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets?

Honestly, probably not. I just really don’t trust people to keep their lips zipped or to not judge me.

26 - what are the shoes you’ve had for forever and wear with every single outfit?

My oldest pair of shoes rn are probably the ones I’m wearing (or at least they look the oldest since I wear them pretty much daily). They’re black and white cheetah print converse, with cheetah eyes on the side. They’re super comfortable.

28 - sunrise or sunset?

Both are nice, but I like sunsets better. It’s the end of the day, time to rest, and it just looks cooler imo. More fiery.

30 - think of it: have you ever been truly scared?

In all honesty, I don’t think so. I get scared easily, but I wouldn’t say I’ve been truly terrified.

32 - tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3AM when you were with friends.

Already done~

34 - tell us about the stuffed animal you kept as a kid. what is it called? what does it look like? do you still keep it?

Done~

36 - which band’s sound would fit your mood right now?

Oof I don’t know. American Authors maybe? I feel really happy and free rn.

38 - tell us about your pet peeves!

Oh boy. I could go on and on. One: the sound of people chewing. It’s awful but you can’t tell them it’s annoying because that’s rude but it makes me. Want. To. Hit. Someone. It is SO irritating. Another thing: my brother doesn’t flush the toilet :)))) and that drives me insane. Another one: people who spit on you when they talk. People in band who, rather than not playing on the parts they don’t know and working on them later, just play whatever they want and mess everyone up. People who don’t put things back where they found them. People who nitpick every little thing about something that someone else did. I could just keep going on.

40 - think of a piece of jewelry you own: what’s it’s story? does it have any meaning to you?

I’m just gonna choose the ring I wear all the time. I got it at the fair, it was only $12 😂 it doesn’t really hold much meaning, I just like having it so I can fidget with it when I’m nervous or something.

42 - do you have a favorite coffee shop? describe it!

I actually haven’t gotten to experience any coffee shops :/ just Starbucks lol. But once I’m on my own I think I’ll check more places out.

44 - when was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything?

I honestly don’t know. It’s been some time.

46 - tell us the worst pun you can think of.

I’m not good with punssss! I don’t know. I can’t think of anything.

48 - what was your biggest fear as a kid? is it the same today?

Hm I was afraid of a lot of things and I still am. I’d say pretty much the same things, more or less. Things that aren’t even closely real, things that my mind just comes up with. And now I’m actually scared of more things, I think. Realistic situations and whatnot.

50 - what’s an odd thing you collect?

I collect rocks, but I think that’s pretty normal, right?? I also collect piggy banks and hedgehog knick knacks.

52 - what are your favorite memes of the year so far?

God I don’t even know. I guess maybe the spongebob ones, the Patrick ones.

54 - who’s the last person you saw with a true look of sadness on their face?

Oh wow. Hm. I really don’t know. I really, truly, do not know.

56 - what are some things you find endearing in people?

Hmm…it differs from person to person I suppose. But I guess, like…the way people smile, the different ways people laugh when they’re truly laughing (even if they find it obnoxious it’s a part of them and it’s just kinda cute and funny), when a person who doesn’t usually dress up dresses up all fancy and gets all shy about it. I don’t know. Just little things I guess.

58 - who’s the wine mom and who’s the vodka aunt in your group of friends? why?

Oof I don’t really know. I think Morgan would be the vodka aunt. But wine mom…I don’t know.

60 - do you like poetry? what are some of your faves?

Yessss I do. Hm, favorites…it depends on the mood I’m in, I suppose. When I was little though I really liked Shel Silverstein’s poems.

62 - do you drink juice in the morning? which kind?

Nopeeee I don’t really like juice 😕

64 - what color is the sky where you are right now?

Kind of a soft baby blue? Idk but it’s quite nice.

66 - what would your ideal flower crown look like?

Baby blue eyes and daisies, I think. Just blue flowers in general would be good enough for me 👍

68 - what’s winter like where you live?

Not cold enough!!!!!!!! Although this year it snowed more than I expected it to. Still, it’s not very cold and we don’t get much rain 😕

70 - have you ever used a ouija board?

No, and despite my belief that it’s absolute bull crap, I would never use one because I’m a wuss.

72 - are you a person who needs to note everything down or else you’ll forget it?

It depends, some things I remember and some things I don’t.

74 - describe a good friend of yours without using their name or gendered pronouns.

Oof well I’ve pretty much mentioned all my IRL friends and they’re kinda predictable 😂 so I’ll choose an Internet friend. They’re extremely sweet, and do so, so much for other people, even when they’re already so busy with their own life. They’re always caring and genuine, and put others before themselves (even though I wish they wouldn’t sometimes). They’re super patient, which is good because sometimes I can be a bit slow 😂 and just so, so amazing and beautiful and talented and hardworking and they deserve to go far. I hope they’ll keep holding on strong and keep on fighting. And I hope they truly know how much I admire them. (Damn I kinda described all of my internet friends there?????? I had a specific one in mind though I swear)

76 - is there anything you should be doing right now but aren’t?

Yes 😂 homework

78 - are you in the minion hateclub or fanclub?

I’m on the fence actually 😕 it’s not like I hate them with a burning passion or anything but I think they’re kinda milking it for all it’s worth at this point, which usually happens with movies.

80 - what color are your bedroom walls? did you choose that color? if so, why?

3 white walls and a light bluish tealish wall (with a border of music notes in silver paint on the teal wall). I got to redecorate my room a couple years ago for my birthday and I love the color blue but I didn’t want something that would darken the room (although I keep my curtains mostly closed lol). The music notes were from a piece I played that year in the school band, it was my favorite.

82 - are/were you good in school?

I’m a procrastinator but I do get good grades 😁 I’ve never had an -A or lower. And I’m kind of a teacher’s pet 😂

84 - are you planning on getting tattoos? which ones?

Definitely not. I don’t see the point in basically paying someone to stab you with a needle over and over again. If I did get one, I think it would be a clef heart or 아리엘.

86 - do you like concept albums? which ones?

I can’t really think of any specific ones (???? maybe I’m just being dumb ????) but I do like the idea of them.

88 - are there any artistic movements you particularly enjoy?

Ehhh, I’m not exactly an art buff, so idk what to say. I think that as long as it carries emotion and makes the viewer feel something or think of something, then it must be pretty good. The style doesn’t define what story it tells, it just helps set the mood.

90 - talk about your one of you favorite cities.

I haven’t really traveled so I’m gonna have to skip this 😶

92 - are you a person who drowns their pasta in cheese or a person who barely sprinkles a pinch?

Honestly I prefer just butter on my pasta but if I’m putting on cheese then I’m going all the way.

94 - who was the last person you know to have a birthday?

Well I mean idk if it counts since I know her online so I’ll go with the closest one that I know irl. My aunt just had her birthday, it was a couple days ago.

96 - do you install your computer updates really quickly or do you procrastinate on them a lot?

I usually procrastinate them 😅 because it always asks me when I’m in the middle of doing something and I don’t wanna stop what I’m doing.

98 - when’s the last time you went hiking? did you enjoy it?

I don’t remember…but probably not 😂

100 - if you were presented with two buttons, one that allows you to go 5 years into the past, the other 5 years into the future, which one would you press? why?

The past. I’d like to do some things differently. Be a better person. Make myself become a better person and have better habits. The future can still be changed but my past is set in stone. Although, if I go 5 years back, I might not end up on this site, so overall I’d rather just stay in the present 😂

[polkahotness]

Shortaki Week DAY 3- Social Media

Facebook never really meant anything to me. I mean, the concept of the idea is cool and while living with my parents in San Lorenzo it was nice to be able to catch up with everyone and see what they were doing, but other than that, I found not much to be the point in the whole craze.

I’d always assumed Helga felt the same way.

But for some reason, an odd one at that, Helga cared a lot about social media. Whether it was people commenting on her daily poems or even just on our pictures of us, she seemed to care a great load as if the people watching her life played out mattered all of a sudden when they never had in the past.

To be fair though, none of this began to happen until we got together last summer once I returned from San Lorenzo. She told me she could care less but I discovered that wasn’t actually the case.

“So, football-head,” she’d start conversations, “you decide to change your facebook status to ‘in a relationship’ yet or am I waiting for nothing?”

To me, the relationship status was just that—a status –not something others depended on for validation in a relationship.

“I haven’t been on in a while,” was my usual response even though I was always telling the truth. “Why, Helga? Is it important to you that I do?”

This was when her responses usually took a turn for the worst. If it was so important to her, why didn’t she just tell me it was? If it was all that important, I’d change it in a heartbeat just for her peace of mind.

But I wasn’t done figuring Helga out yet. We may have been together since I won the trip to find my parents and then disappeared for a few years to be with them, but once I came back and we officially got together, there was a lot about Helga I had yet to understand.

And her obsession with the relationship status was one of them.

“Pssh, I don’t care,” she’d usually say, “And even if I DID care, what would some lamebrain relationship status mean to me ANYway?”

I’d usually smile at her and shrug my shoulders. “I’m not sure. That’s why I keep asking you if it’s really that important to you.”

This usually sent her into an existential crisis, I’d determined. The need for my approval was something Helga seemed to yearn for and if I wasn’t happy, she never was. It was almost like while I was trying to figure her out, she was trying to figure me out at the same time. We were almost always in sync like that but without mind-reading (a gift I certainly wasn’t born with) there was never any way to tell with her.

“Helga,” I finally said one morning while we waited for school to start and were already thrust in the middle of this debate again, “why does a relationship status matter to you if you and I both know we’re in a relationship with each other? Why does the rest of the world need to know so badly?”

Helga chewed on her lip as if deciding whether or not to give me a real answer this time. She sighed deeply and said softly, “I guess if I REALLY had to answer that question,” she began, “I’d wonder why it is you aren’t proud to call me your girlfriend.”

This was it. This was the moment I’d finally been waiting for all these months since we started dating. She was…scared. Helga G. Pataki was scared that I didn’t really want to be with her.

I guess it didn’t really surprise me. Helga had a lot of fears she didn’t like to show to others. I suppose it made her feel in control of something, how others see her, and she hid them away to keep that power over other people.

I just never believed she was that afraid of losing me. This time, I wasn’t going anywhere any time soon and even if I did, we’d work something out.

I wouldn’t say I knew exactly what being in love is, but I knew my feelings for Helga were strong and at this point, I was willing to sacrifice a lot for her.

Even my pride.

“Helga,” I said while setting my hand on her shoulder and offering her a warm smile, “If it means that much to you, of course I’ll change my status.”

“It’s not that it means all that much to me that you do it’s just,” her face was turning red and I knew I was forcing this out of her steel trap of feelings she usually only showed me in the middle of turmoil or in the privacy of my room. “It’s just that I’ve waited…SO LONG to call you my boyfriend, Arnold and to not be able to do that publicly in the only form our generation knows how…I don’t know—“

“I think you do know,” I pressed and her brow scrunched together as if in frustration that I was making her reveal this much.

“Well frankly, it sucks, Arnold.”

Sucks. It was a phrase Helga used a lot but never with so much emotion behind it. I could tell this was very important to her and I’d never thought to think the reasoning behind it would be just that. I always somehow knew we’d end up together when the time was right but I guessed it was nobody’s business but ours. But that’s just not the way our generation works anymore. Social media has taken over everything and for her, our relationship status was much more than a status—it was a declaration and I’d been putting off declaring it for quite some time now.

Oof. I’d messed up pretty bad.

“I never want you to think I’m not proud to call you my girlfriend, you know. I just never thought to look at it like that.”

“Yeah, well…” her voice trailed off and she turned away from me to look out into the Hallway where people were getting ready to go to their first class of the day.

“Helga…” I deadpanned while reaching up to take her chin and gently turn her head back to face mine. “I’ll change it. No questions asked. I’m glad you’re my girlfriend and if you want the world to know, than I certainly want the world to know too.”

“Really?” She asked as the warning bell let out to tell us we have five minutes to get to our classes.

“Really.” I said definitively and leaned in to softly peck her lips with as much emotion I could give without breaking any PDA rules. As soon as I pulled back, I looked at her straight in the eyes and said, “I’m so happy I’m with you, Helga. Please don’t forget that.”

Her eyes shook as she focused on me and I could see water beginning to form at the base of her eyes though the tears never fell. “Thank you, Arnold.”

“Every and any time,” I said and with that we laced fingers and made our way to the first class we shared together; our future looking brighter than it ever had.

[eren-s]

tag game

Rules:

Always post the rules

Answer the questions given by the person who tagged you

Write 11 questions of your own

Tag 11 people

tagged by: the lovely @tatakaeeren thank youuuuu <3

tagging: @yaboylevi and @uttsukushi because i would love to to know your answers to some of these questions and all that but don’t feel pressured to answer this if you don’t want to c: also tagging anyone else who wants to do this

1.- If you could date one anime characters who would it be?

These type of questions always make me think that i love things differently from other people... or something? lol because i never get a crush on the characters i  like... i know this isn’t mean to be a serious question and all that, you know but kahjdkhasjdg i won’t date anyone lmao i prefer being by myself even if it gets a bit lonely sometimes 

2.- What was your first anime? 

Definitely dragon ball, i have many many memories from it from my childhood, my mom still doesn’t like it haha my brother on the other hand loves snk and levi is his favorite, he also watches some other animes from time to time  

3.- Fictional character or real people?

Fictional character, i have been there and loved real people (as in idols etc) and it’s draining and tiring and not something i would like to do ever again lol

4.- What’s one of your dreams? 

Writing a book, i have had this dream since i was a child and i actually wrote a so called book when i was like 13 haha but it’s a mess so i have it hidden somewhere in my room, i also used to get praises here and there when i wrote poems, etc for school. Tbh idk if i will ever be able to accomplish it because the career i’m majoring in, in college has nothing to do with this type of thing so yeah but maybe some day as for now i still write fics in my free time

5.-  Favorite books of all time?

I wish i read more buuuut i will just mention the one i’ve been reading recently which is ‘everyday’ by david levithan, i have yet to finish it, but i love the way it’s written and some of the things the author writes about in the book hit close home for me, i have some favorite quotes as well and i just love the book jasgdjhsagd gotta finish it before this year ends 

6.- What’s your dream country to live in?

I like my country but maybe spain, places i would like to visit tho: korea and japan also any other countries in south america because all i know is my own country and i’m curious lol  

7.-  Isabelle/Levi/Farlan or Armin/Mikasa/Eren? 

why... the shiganshina trio because the bonds of friendship between the three of them are lovely, as for the acwnr trio... it makes my heart ache and i can’t watch/read it w/o crying lmao 

8.- What’s your otp (only one)? Eren + happiness 

9.-  Drabble or Fanfic? 

Fanfic, although i really admire people who can write short things ajsgdjhasgd haha how do you do that 

10.- Your hogwarts housse (if you don’t have any cause you’ve never made the test just answer muggle, or go made it !) -

11.- How many time do you spent on tumblr ?(daily)  

…I check it several times through the day but the time i spend on it varies? it depends on wether or not i’m trying to upload gifs or something or if my dash has new content or if i’m talking with someone and stuff like that haha i think i spend more time over at twitter 

12.- Your top 3 anime openings? 

Sora ga Aozora de Aru Tame ni by Glay 

Know know know by Does

Guren no yumiya by Linked Horizon

13.-  Quick! you have the power to bring one character back from the dead (with no secondary effects) who would it be? 

Carla Jaeger, jsagdhjasgdhjsa Eren has been missing his mom for years, i just- need okay

14.- If you could crossover 2 animes, which ones would they be?

omg gintama x shingeki haha that would be soooo funny to watch

15.- Choose 3 hair colors.Ok. Ready? Now tell me your fav character with that hair color.

pink hair - kominato haruichi

white hair - gintoki

black hair - hijikata

16. Guilty pleasure?? (food, music, movies, etc)

food: like anything sweet, i love sweets... cakes, ice cream, cookies, etc lol

music: maybe those songs that are famous and that you don’t want to openly like but you end up liking them anyway?? haha

17.- Pick two characters to protect you and the rest will kill you [choose from here x]

yo eren and luffy for the first part and then the rest could kill me 

18.- In which anime do you think you would fit the best if you were to live in their world?

relife... i have no idea if you have watched it but i am one of those adults (ugh yeah i’m an adult lol) who feels like their life isn’t going in the direction they want it to go and i really love the idea that the author of this manga (which was adapted into the anime last year) offers, it deals with important topics such as: depression, suicide, being unemployed/not being successful at the expected age by society... the consequences it has in your life and stuff like that? i just think i would like to live inside that universe because the characters are really really kind towards each other and they help each other out and there’s the particular relationship between the protagonist named Arata and Yoake which is the person who helps Arata to ‘relife’ his life haha (spoilers maybe if you end up deciding to look this one up) anyway this relationship esp is my favorite, i just LOVE how they support each other

19.- A night out! ..pick 3 characters and tell me: who is buying the drinks, who is the designated driver and who is the one dancing while singing barbie by aqua

hanji is buying the drinks, annie is the designated driver and the one dancing while singing barbie by aqua is definitely sasha 

20.- A movie that you can watch a million times and will never bore you? Why?

any animated movie! be it a disney movie, or one from studio ghibli,  i... really love animated movies 

21.- Do you have a favorite seiyuu(s) which one(s)? 

I’m not much of the kind of person who gets enthusiastic over voice actors or any other type of famous person in the industry tbh... not even the authors of the mangas itself because i don’t like getting invested into people but rather i fell in love w/ the characters they create more than anything else so i don’t really have a favorite seiyuu 

22.- How would you like Snk to end: everyone dies, a bitter sweet ending, a happy one or an open ending?  

Victoria you sure love making these kind of painful questions lol jk but i haven’t really thought about it, being realistic there’s no way there’s gonna be a happy ending at least not a “wholesome” one i think? I would really hate it if everyone died at the end though... at least one of these persons who sacrificed their lives has to live to see a new beginning, or new something start... i don’t care who although my bias would love for it to be eren and all the kids (and the vets) but just someone, you know? As for an open ending it depends... like what if it ends right before eren is about to die... or on some really ambiguous scene? tbh i would like to feel satisfied with the ending more than anything else be it a happy/sad or open one just something that ties everything up nicely... that’s my humble opinion 

my questions: ( i will just write 4 or 5 because this is long enough as it is and i’m not a really creative person lol )

- What’s one thing you really like about yourself? - What do you do to cheer yourself up when you are feeling down? - Do you play any instrument? - Are you a cat person or a dog person?

[sherlocks-bitch-moriarty]

2, 3, 8, 9, 10, 12, 18 for Daniel x Hyeong and maybe 2, 5, 10 for Psychopathic x Insane if you feel like it (extra dramatic otp asks I'm sorry I put down so many you don't have to do them all if you don't feel like it)

I’m sorry that James/Carter is short but they just,,, fit???!! I don’t even understand.

2. Who would become a stalker, in the right (wrong) situation?

I think I have to say Daniel on this one, just due to levels of clinginess and attachment. He wouldn’t pull a Yoonbum and break into your house but he’ll get a place near it and just kinda… make his presence known. Probably manage to get Hyeong’s number through a friend of Hyeong’s. Which he would do by social media ‘stalking’ and then getting close… If Hyeong was in /danger/- haha. … ha. He would consider a cage and then immediately retract that thought and stay in his house and call the police and stare at Hyeong through his window since Hyeong is kinda freaked out over why his boyfriend isn’t behaving normally.

3. Who would pine away in silence their entire lives without confessing their love.

Both of them, honestly. Drew is the kind of person who’ll accidentally mention it offhand say, 10 years later and then go - oh sh1t I never ; I never told you fick - and then implode because haha yeah of course the 'feelings faded’. Keep lying to yourself bud, it seems to work out for ya. Hyeong would just never ever ever ever mention it. Would urge Daniel into other relationships because he wants him to be happy. Even if it’s not with him. All the while Rebecca wants to scream because /no Hyeong is not happy he’s in hell/. And that’s what she wants, friends to be happy. Daniel is oblivious to this nonsense.

8. Who would stand up at the other’s wedding and say they object.

IF Hyeong was getting married: Daniel has two paths, not show up to the wedding because he’s h u r t. Or, show up and be so fucking quiet no one will remember he was there. He does want to see Hyeong dressed all nice, then he could.. imagine that he was - He ends up going, and he ends up crying towards the end. Luckily it’s written off as joy. At the reception he’s practically glued to the wall, not talking. He’s not drinking and he isn’t really eating. I mean, Elizabeth gave him a piece of cake but he just ate the frosting. He’s actively avoiding Hyeong who is in turn, looking for Daniel to say hi. Daniel manages to leave early, saying he dropped a contact (liar) and didn’t want to hurt anyone by bumping into them or something similar. He regrets not saying anything, to the point where he actually cut off ties with Hyeong just because it hurt. Social media is a bitch though, and he found himself going through Hyeong’s wedding albums online and - Daniel did you just like one of the pictures. /you fool./ Hyeong messages him, both confused and happy to know that the poor boy is /alive/. And that’s when Daniel finally objects. 3. Years. After. The. Fucking. Wedding.

If Daniel was the one getting married: Hyeong is there because he’s the one who got the two of them together. In fact, he’s fucking best man because wow the world must lOVE HIM. And he getS TO MAKE A SPEECH. END HIM. Anyway, like Daniel, he doesn’t say anything during the wedding. The best man objecting isn’t exactly, the best look. And he didn’t want to be a meme online either. Soon it’s the reception and he really doesn’t want to do a speech. He didn’t even prepare one. He was already anxious about the wedding and now he didn’t do his speech so he’s shaking. What’s the smart thing to do? /Drink./ Here’s a hint. That’s not the right answer. He manages to catch Daniel alone and he drags the newly-wed to the hall and kisses him. He doesn’t say anything. Daniel is /freaking out/, he (gently and nicely) pushes Hyeong off asking what in the name of /all that is holy/ did you just do and why do you taste and smell of - oh. That makes sense to him now. He’s drunk. He’s just being drunk, that didn’t mean anything, no, Haha, just like - He’s pulled into reality by Hyeong going in to steal another, this time he’s able to stop it. Once he puts it all together - Daniel feels like shit. His heart is racing - yes. He’s probably sweating, and he’s pretty sure those feelings had faded once his 'new relationship’ hit its 2 year anniversary. So why did Hyeong wait that fucking long?? Daniel doesn’t want to divorce this soon either. And Daniel is… somewhat incompetent. I mean, it’s not cheating if you plan to end your marriage, is it?

9. Who would write long, beautiful poems for the other.

Hyeong, although they’re not /long/. They’re short, but there’s so many. You can make a book. They’re also connected to flowers for some reason. And once he actually took a bit of time to research, constellations. Daniel’s kept every single one of them and he cherishes them. He has a box of them in the closet. And he does read them, much to Hyeong’s embarrassment.

10. Who would love the other no matter how evil the other became.

Hyeong could stab a bunny and a child and Daniel would be like 'hey don’t do that. …. to our child.’ And If Drew took over the world and stabbed a puppy and another poor innocent child, Hyeong would have a panic attack and Trigger Daniel’s damage control mode so. It would freak each other out though for sure before it just became like 'yup normal.“ Then they can be James/Carter level of 'just a normal average day in the life of james’ *loved (l.p) dies* 'damn it carter we talked about this’

12. Who would propose in a grand gesture of some kind.

See, Daniel would be able to do it. But Hyeong wouldn’t be able to so I’m gonna talk about him. He’d wait for the perfect moment and never find it. He’d get fireworks, lanterns, drive Daniel to Florida and back to Whereeverthefuck and never find it. And mind you, he’s had this ring for months now. Almost a year. And he’s losing it. He wanted to marry him but he can’t ask the question. And it’s /just a question/. He tries to simplify it in his head to being similar to 'what do you want for dinner?’ Or 'Did you burn the toast or was that me…’ but that makes it worse. So, when and where does Hyeong finally decide to ask him?

3:00am in bed, because Daniel noticed Hyeong wasn’t sleeping and got concerned.

Good job.

18. (Couldn’t find 18??? I’m gonna assume 16 since it’s the last if that’s ok-dokie) Who would be able to spend centuries in misery waiting for the other to be reborn.

Hyeong. And then he realised Daniel isn’t someone you’ll meet again on happenstance. You have to try and find him. Do everything in your power and beyond to find Daniel, because he can’t function on his own he’s probably got his foot stuck in a fountain. In Russia. And Hyeong is /not/ in Russia.

2. Who would become a stalker, in the right (wrong) situation.

Carter is already a stalker. I do not understand. He’s Sangwoo but he would never hurt james. James is precious. He’s more like Yuno then… no wait she did tr-

(Carter actually only got to know James because he stalked him and managed to get in his house by causing a 'mishap’. Yeah. That. That’s in his past.)

5. Who would be the most worried the other might cheat on them.

You’d think Carter, and he was in canon. But if you take them out of there (and if Carter can remember that James is gay not bi, he’s not gonna do shit with Intrigued. Idiot.), James is gonna be way more concerned. Because 1. Carter is a flirty fuck. 2. If he actually put effort into his appearance he’d attract partners easily. 3. God damn it, he just wants to be laid by everyone on gods green earth. Especially James. And James is concerned.

10. Who would love the other no matter how evil the other became.

Welcome to the daily life of James. He has somehow been able to survive this far. Good job James. Keep up the good work.

*James cries over his coffee.*

[springafternoons]

they told me my essays were too poetic, then they fucked up my poems

I mean, I’ve always loved words. As a kid, I was always reading something; I brought my books everywhere I go the way you would do your mobile phones now. I was so mesmerized by how these words turn into sentences, then into paragraphs, then into chapters that create different stories every time. I was always wondering how reading words that describe food can make me feel like I was actually enjoying the food. How black inked paragraphs printed on white paper alone can excite me, or scare me, as much as a movie scene does. So around the time, I realized how writers are such powerful people who can bring out any feeling they want. Around that time, I realized that I want to be one of those powerful people.

Putting words together to form a beautiful paragraph was not something that was taught in my primary school. Sure, we did language; descriptive texts, stories about our last holiday. Merely spoken was the beauty that lies within all the different arrangements of alphabets. There aren’t that many challenges when you’re in primary school, so I had notebooks in which I write stories after I finish my class assignment for the day. My friends will then read it during recess, and I remember trying to always keep them on the edge in every chapter so they will beg me to write some more. Around that time, I realized that watching how facial expressions change because of something that I created was about the best thing in the world.

Making up stories were suddenly not that cool anymore, so as everyone in middle school did, I entered the narcissistic world where I thought my life is very interesting and started a blog. Come to think of it, most of us still think our life is very interesting, hence all the social media platforms. But anyway, I would write about my day and random thoughts I had in general. My blog posts were mostly about how hilarious my day was, though when I think about it, it was probably not that hilarious. But eventually, funny inside jokes turned to be everyone’s jokes, cause everyone was reading everyone else’s blog. Entries on random thoughts would also focus around weird, obscure ideas of mine that when people see me, they’ll go “hey, you know that thing you wrote about? I’ve never thought of it that way”. So again, I was blessed with the power to make people feel, and laugh, from reading what I wrote. And let me tell you, it was addictive.

I fell in love in high school. Hard. And that love broke me so bad, time and time again. So when you felt so much so young, you start writing out of your emotions rather than experiences. It stopped being “Here’s what I did on Tuesday, May 20″ and were more into “Here’s the time I cried for 3 days straight because he lied”. Throughout the years of being with him, the boy was mainly the center of my writings. I was head over heels, so I wrote him pages and pages of love letters and poems, rhymes about how I love everything about him: from the way he pays very much attention to the food he’s chewing to the way he always proudly introduces me as his girlfriend. How he read all my long ass letters though he doesn’t like reading. When it got bad, it was screaming and crying and throwing things around, journal pages ripped from the combination of my tears and me writing too hard cause I was shaking and furious. I stopped showing him my letters cause it got too angry. But then the sadness hit and I would write poems about how he was the ocean I didn’t mind drowning in and such. So I probably wasn’t any good, but I could turn my journal back to those pages full of poems and all the feelings will be back, slicing my heart like a thousand knives. And I realized that I can make myself feel differently from reading my own writing. Broken heart aside, how amazing is that?

So when I moved on to university and passed up my first essay, I was taken aback by the score I got. They told me that it was “too poetic”. Apparently, metaphors don’t work well in business essays. I took the low scores as a sign that I couldn’t impress these professors much with my words. They didn’t feel anything when reading my work. So I probably had to do it their way. I took classes on how to write a proper academic essay and eventually, I got better scores.

4 years of perfectly structured passages later, I sit down in front of my laptop and realize that I don’t know how to write out my feelings anymore. Academic essays don’t care about your opinion; every statement you make has to be backed by a research done by someone else because truthfully, you don’t matter. Yet. So my fingers hover over the keyboard, lingering, not knowing what to write. Not knowing how to write to make people feel warm as opposed to putting cold words together to convince them to agree with the argument I make.

By 22 I've learned to shut off my feelings, so there isn’t much to write about that. I’ve reached the place where I put my happiness first cause I realized people don’t really care about it as much as they care about theirs. So the daily goal is to be happy and to find the good in everything that is going on. I avoid getting hurt by keeping romance on the surface level and invest the deep, deep love I have in my friends instead. That got me happy. And I realized I started writing less. And it got me thinking, do I really have to be broken to create? Do I really have to be hurt in order for me to make art?

As I get older, I write less and publish them even less. I used to tweet whatever popped into my head. I used to write blog entries about whatever random teenage day I had solely cause it was important to me. I used to not care if people think I’m lame for writing my emotions because the way I felt that time consumed me, and therefore the feelings I wrote were the extensions of me. These days I stick to short sentences, barely a paragraph, too private to be published.

Words have helped me so much in a way that they show me how much I've grown. I went from imagining things to dealing with overwhelming feelings to admitting that I fell out. So I feel like I owe words a lot more than I can explain. And I’m not going to disappoint by abandoning them. You were put in this world to better yourself every day, right? So I will continue to try to write relentlessly, recklessly, restlessly. I will continue to write my truth and what is important to me. Cause that’s what words would want me to do. To string them together to help myself and others feel lifted. To tie us together. So I hope that, with these paragraphs, I was able to make you feel a glimpse of what words can make me.

[limejuicer1862]

Wombwell Rainbow Interviews

I am honoured and privileged that the following writers local, national and international have agreed to be interviewed by me. I gave the writers two options: an emailed list of questions or a more fluid interview via messenger.

The usual ground is covered about motivation, daily routines and work ethic, but some surprises too. Some of these poets you may know, others may be new to you. I hope you enjoy the experience as much as I do.

  James Carter

is an award-winning children’s poet. He travels all over the cosmos (well, Britain), with his guitar (that’s Keith) to give lively poetry performances and workshops.  James once had hair, extremely long hair (honestly), and he played in a really nasty ultra-loud heavy rock band. And, as a lifelong space cadet, James has discovered that poems are the best place to gather all his daydreamy thoughts.  What’s more, he believes that daydreaming for ten minutes every day should be compulsory in all schools.  His poetry titles include Cars Stars Electric Guitars and Orange Silver Sausage (Walker Books) and Time-Travelling Underpants and Greetings, Earthlings! (Macmillan). James was the major contributor to the recent Cbeebies TV series Poetry Pie. He lives with his wife and two daughters in Wallingford, Oxfordshire.

The Interview

1. What inspired you to write poetry?

It’s a number of things. I’ve always really loved words – reading everything from comics/non-fiction as a child to novels as a teen/young adult, and now mainly non-fiction/poetry/plays. I’ve always been a bit imaginative I guess, and as soon as I bought my first electric guitar at 15, I just started writing lyrics to songs. Actually, I wrote my first lyric/poem thing, The Electrified Spiders, aged 8 or 9. I played in bands all through my 20s, writing and recording music. But as soon as I went to uni aged 29 I knew I wanted to write, to be a writer. I tried fiction at first, but it was the poetry/non-fiction that took off.

I’m a bit of an outsider (I’ve often been called ‘contrary’, and I certainly do question everything), always have been, and poetry fits in well with this sensibility, as poetry should show you the world from a different/fresh perspective. In a poem I have to be as original as possible – I feel that I’m implicitly saying ‘Hey look at that – but look at it like this…’. Also a poem has to say something, communicate something, even simply present you with a thought, an idea or a single image.

I like writing for children as it disciplines me. I can’t indulge myself too much, I have to ideally keep my young invisible reader interested. For me, children for me are the best age group to write for. I have no interest in writing for adults per se, but if adults ever like a poem I’ve written with children in mind, then that’s nice! This happened with a kind of eco poem I wrote for a school for World Book Day last year – Who Cares? – it went on the National Poetry Day website (I’m one of their ambassadors), and it was picked up by Radio 3 for their prose and poetry series. I never saw that coming! As a writer, you never know who will read your work, or how it will be received. I even had an email this morning from a woman asking if her 9 year old child could read my poem Love You More (it’s at my website – www.jamescarterpoet.co.uk) at her wedding. How lovely is that? As a poet I couldn’t ask for more.

2. Who introduced you to poetry?

School – Macbeth / Canterbury Tales at O level, Philip Larkin at A level, then much later as a mature student, the lecturers at Reading Uni (on the B.Ed degree) were very passionate about poetry. It was the Craft of Writing course in particular that got me writing. In my twenties I went to a fair few John Hegley gigs. Great poet, great comic, and a wonderful person. He showed me you can write about literally a n y t h i n g…

3. How aware were you of the dominating presence of older poets?

Weird question! Actually, I’m now an older poet myself. And still I’d say the children’s poetry world is led by older poets – but thankfully we have lots of younger voices coming through. And crucially, I very much believe the poetry world is far more welcoming to new poets than it ever was. But I think that writing for children is not something that most people consider anyway until they have children / grandchildren or worked as a teacher or have been on the planet for a while…

4. What is your daily writing routine?

Don’t have one! I write anywhere, anytime. In a sense, I’m always writing. On trains, in cafés, on hilltops, in car parks. Depends what I’m writing though. If I’m writing a poem, I can even write/re-write aspects of it in my head, and then I’ll have to make a note of it on my phone or the envelope I keep in my pocket. (Worked for Paul McCartney when writing Hey Jude!) I often get obsessed with a poem as I’m writing it, and will run lines/phrases over and over in my head, chanting them, mouthing the words until they really flow – and every single syllable/word etc is just right. But if I’m writing a non-fiction verse book, say like Once Upon A Star / Once Upon An Atom, I need to either work on my laptop, or better still, on paper. I will take the manuscript with me wherever I go, making a great many tweaks/edits/changes.

5. What motivates you to write?

Two things – a) a love if not obession with words and the music of language, b) a fascination with the world – and a need to make sense of it, and I find writing a poem on a topic will help me to explore and express something on that subject / idea / memory. I’m always thinking about something or other, so a poem is a great place to put or distil my thoughts.

6. What is your work ethic?

I’m a workaholic. I’m always writing, at least always thinking about writing. Perhaps tweaking a line, refining a title, developing an image, or mulling over an idea for a new non-fiction book.

7. How do the writers you read when you were young influence you today?

As Morris Gleitzman so nicely expressed it, everything you read / think / observe / experience goes into the ‘mulch’ from which your writing grows. Specifically, I know that many rhyming things I write are to the rhythm of lines from Macbeth, or my favourite picture book Where The Wild Things Are (a massive influence on me) or even Tom Waits’ spoken word piece ‘What’s He Building In There?’ But I’m sure I’m influenced by lots of things I’ve read without even realising it.

8. Who of today’s writers do you admire the most and why?

As poets go, I really admire the Americans Billy Collins, Mary Oliver and Lilian Moore. As children’s writers go, I like Shaun Tan and Oliver Jeffers – and a great many others. But in the main, I try and read more widely, away from poetry so I can be inspired by other things – so it’s often plays and non-fiction.

9. Why do you write, as opposed to doing anything else?

I have done other things from teaching to lecturing to office work, but writing / working in schools as a work shopper and performer is by far the most rewarding thing I have ever done. I so enjoy working with children and teachers and librarians. Performing – all that showing off is fine, it’s great fun, but for me it’s all about switching children on as writers. I love the finales we have at the end of a visit, where the children read their poems. I was actually very close to tears yesterday when we had a Year 6 finale in one of my very favourite schools, in Newbury. The poems were quite brilliant. I feel that what I do now – my writing / workshopping and performing – is a culmination of all I’ve ever experienced, plus my two degrees – my teaching degree and my Masters in Children’s Literature.

10. What would you say to someone who asked you “How do you become a writer?”

Write. Write. Write. Write. Read. Read. Read. Read. DON’T expect to get the first/second/third thing you write to be published as chances are it won’t be. Only JK Rowling was published immediately, everyone else pretty much has to serve an apprenticeship of years of writing in the wildnerness. Don’t be too inspired by what you read as a child, look to see what is published right now. If you are writing for children, make it modern. Don’t trust your own children as readers/listeners – of course they’ll love it as they will want to please you. Even more writing, even more reading… Find out through trial and error, not only what you want to write, but what you are best at. I thought I’d be a novelist, but I’m actually a poet/non-fiction writer – and I’m more than happy with that!

11. Tell me about the writing projects you have on at the moment.

A kind of best-of poetry book for 7-11s – Weird, Wild & Wonderful – to be published Jan 2021 by Otter-Barry Books and illustrated by the fantastic Neal Layton. I literally just finished the final new poem to go in the book. The book is a round up really of all the most popular poems I have written, published and performed over the last twenty years. But there’s a selection of brand new ones too. As with all my books I’m aiming for a real range of poems in terms of forms / tone / topics. What I want from one of my poetry collections is a book in which a child reader will not know what they are getting next. I want my collections to read more like anthologies, as if they were written by many different poets. WW&W is divided into three loosely-themed sections Weird (more upbeat humorous and daft poems) / Wild (nature/animal poems) / Wonderful (memory poems/quiet, reflective pieces) – but even within those there is a range.

When I began writing in the late 90s (1990s, not 189s, obvs..) there was too much emphasis on humorous poetry I thought, and I’ve tried to resist that in my books. I want a real range. And actually I find it’s often the quieter poems that really stick with children, and mean more to them. When I perform for 7-11s I’ll mainly do the more serious poems, but I’ll also do some improvised comic stuff in between, even some music – piano, melodica and guitar. I still write instrumental music to this day.

Apart from Once Upon An Atom (Caterpillar Books/Little Tiger Press) – a book on science in verse for 5-8s, I have another book in that same series (as yet untitled!) which is being illustrated right now and that is on the subject of palaeontology – going back in time, exploring various extinct creatures from the past – from woolly mammoths to trilobites to T.Rexes. I really love writing non-fiction. Researching a topic for months, and then finding an interesting angle to tell the story of that subject. I don’t want too many facts. Other books do facts, so instead I try and establish a narrative thread of some kind that takes a reader into or through a subject. Once Upon An Atom is slightly different in that it has three sections – Chemistry / Physics / Biology, and in very simple poetic language explains/explores each of these. It was probably the toughest book I’ve ever done – explaining science to an infant isn’t easy! The illustrations by the Brazilian artist Willian Santiago are just brilliant – very vivid, slightly retro sci-fi at times.

12. Why did you write Once Upon An Atom?

I’ve always been fascinated by science. Biology was my favourite subject at school – until I did a week of it at A level and decided it had effectively turned into chemistry and physics, which I wasn’t happy about it, so I dropped it! Instead, I got into English big time – Shakespeare, Larkin etc. And later at uni I studied English with education – but I’ve always had an interest in science, particularly natural history and anything space-related.

I’d already written six or so books in this series for Caterpillar Books, and each one, though non-fiction – and in verse – told a linear story – eg Once Upon A Star (the Big Bang/formation of our sun) / Once Upon A Raindrop (the story of water on this planet, including water cycles) / Once Upon A Rhythm (the story of music). This time I wanted to write about Science, but however I thought about it, there was no actual simple and direct story, just a very complex/interconnected  sequence of inventions/discoveries etc from the last 10,000 years, and that wouldn’t do for a younger children’s picture book. I’d read – rather tried to read – Bill Bryson’s (and I’m a massive fan of his usually) impenetrable The History Of Nearly Everything. I couldn’t read it. It was too dense. Too clogged with facts. I don’t gravitate (ho ho) to facts, as essential they are – for as a reader, I like some kind of coherent narrative. And I had that book at that back of my mind for the many months I was writing this one.

So for a structure for Once Upon An Atom I ended up with three basic parts, which were effectively chemistry, physics and biology. Initially I explained what they were without actually explicitly naming those disciplines as I thought it would be way over the heads/comprehension of 5-8s, the target audience of this series. It took ages to get it right – to find simple enough concepts for each scientific area without losing the real essence of what each is. I finally handed the manuscript in and the wonderful editors at Caterpillar said that they liked it, but that I HAD to include the terms physics, chemistry and biology. I tried to fight my case, but lost! I’ve learnt to trust editors 99% of the time, as they have the objectivity that I don’t, and crucially, they know the market. So a massive re-write followed and unfortunately, Pat and Isabel at Caterpillar were totally right – once again! – and I think/hope it became a better text for it. For the illustrator, they chose Willian Santiago from Brazil. (All the illustrators for the series are from around the world – Spain, Japan, Italy, Northern Ireland…) I was thrilled. His bold, bright exuberant style brought so much to the book.

I’ve since written a related book on inventions for the series, which I didn’t have space to cover in Once Upon An Atom. My editor Pat gave me the challenge of writing a book on materials (wood / glass / metals .. etc.) as her daughter, an Infant teacher, had told her that that is what she’d need for her class. And actually, that was an easier book to write as I simply wrote about the sequence of materials that homo sapiens have used over the millennia – and how each of these have helped us to build the modern world. I would never have thought to have written a book on inventions in that way –  ie through the prism of materials – but it gave it a fresh perspective.

When you write for younger children, you can never lose sight of your reader. I simply now try and write books that I would have wanted to read at that age. I had a few nature books – typical 60s fare – The Observers Book Of British Birds/Mammals etc.. – but nothing on generic science. The two things I try and consider when writing this series are – is the language inviting enough? Am I enthusing / entertaining my reader somehow? And is this interesting / relevant enough? How can I make it more enticing/fascinating? To this end, I often find I spend more time on the first few pages than any other in a book – to get the tone / feel / voice / music of the language just right. You have to grab your reader literally from the first syllable… and that’s a challenge I really enjoy!

I visit a lot of schools, and I see a lot of non-fiction books in school libraries and in topic displays in classrooms. Apart from books like the Horrible Science/Histories series, I do wonder to myself how many of these books are actually read. I know that many non-fiction books we dip in and out of anyway and wouldn’t dream of reading chronologically, but with every non-fiction book I do I love the idea that the reader might experience the book from beginning to end, and follow a linear thread. The books in this series are short, snappy and meant as a taster books for a subject. (If a reader wants to know more, there will be many other books that go into greater detail.) And this certainly affects the way I structure and shape what I am writing. It’s all about the story for me – though I do always have a factual acrostic at the back to include a few dates, a few figures and background information. Facts can get in the way of a good story, so where better to place them than at the back of a book?

And oddly, I’m probably one of the least knowledgeable people I know. In theory, I shouldn’t be writing non-fiction! As a person, I have my own limited interests, but as a writer I’m into E V E R Y T H I N G. It’s not WHAT you write about, but HOW you write about it. And what I do have in abundance is enthusiasm! I’m absolutely hopeless at retaining facts, and because of this I have to do a lot of research. But I guess it does mean I come to every subject as a non-fiction writer reasonably fresh, and I’m literally learning as I’m researching and then writing – and I try to then distil that initial fascination/passion for learning into the text of whatever book I am working on.

13. How did you collaborate with Willian Santiago?

Apart from my forthcoming poetry best of collection Weird Wild & Wonderful (Otter-Barry Books, Jan 2021) – for which I cheekily requested – and got! – the utterly fabulous Neal Layton – I never get to choose illustrators. Caterpillar books are brilliant at trawling the world for new talent and matching my text with an illustrator’s images. With every book they have found e x a c t l y the right person. And this must be the case as the second book in the series, Once Upon A Raindrop – the story of water – illustrated by the incredible Nomoco – is longlisted for the Kate Greenaway award! And I’m absolutely over the moon for Nomoco, Myrto (the book’s designer) and all the wonderful humans at Caterpillar Books. They really deserve it as their books are so fresh, vital and innovative. It’s a real honour to work with such a creative/dynamic team.

And I never have contact with an illustrator during the process. I may have a few very occasional responses, but in general, I trust the editors/designer/illustrator. Visuals are not my area. I’m primarily and solely concerned with the words inside. Plus, too many cooks…

14. Page or Stage?

Although I do strongly believe – as a white, 60 yr old middle class male – in the craft – I’m very much into page rather than stage poetry, but I equally love the fact that there are younger poets coming through, a variety of ages, a wide mix of races.

15. Accessibility?

I also enjoy stage – but that comes much, much later in the process. I’ll often write a poem and not actually ever read it for months/years. I write primarily for readers. Also, I try and make my work so simple and uncluttered and direct that it is as if it has just flowed out…craft is trying to make it look easy. Which it certainly is NOT!!!!

16. How do you think being a musician helps your poetry?

Great question, Paul! Apologies if my answer comes over a bit pretentious.. it can get a bit la-di-dah when you’re talking about such things!

In a sense, a poet IS a musician. A poet orchestrates the music of a poem – using consonants, vowels, syllables, alliteration, assonances, rhyme/half-rhyme – line breaks/lengths – all this is linguistic music. And I do think to be a music-musician (guitarist/terrible keyboard player) for me is both a curse and a blessing. A blessing in that it helps me to feel my way along each line of a poem, to instinctively know what works/doesn’t work as I weave words/sounds, syllable by syllable. But it does mean that I sometimes procrastinate over even a phrase for many months. It means I tweak/edit/re-write obsessively. It means I find it very hard to read or even finish a rhythmical rhyming poem by another

Poet that doesn’t scan. A rhyming poem that doesn’t scan is akin to driving down a bumpy road. You keep trying to

Avoid the bumps, and you don’t quite know when/where they are coming. If a poem doesn’t scan, it isn’t finished.

If a poet ever says ‘Oh, it depends how you read it’, I don’t follow that. (But if it’s just performance stuff, spoken word that is not published on the page, just done in a live context, that’s very different). As a poet on the page you are giving your reader a poem that has implicit instructions on how it is to be read, and if they have to keep stopping to adapt/adjust because it doesn’t flow, then the poem isn’t fully doing its job. With my non-fiction verse series, I often imagine my readers as either busy parents/teachers/librarians reading aloud to a young child. If the text doesn’t scan, they have to work harder at delivering it to the child. And I don’t want that. I want it to be an easy, positive experience, so the words just readily sing and flow off the page. Also, if I have a 7-11 yr old reading one of my poems themselves, I don’t want them to struggle with a poem,I want them to enjoy it, to get it, to know what it’s about, and be moved/inspired/enlightened or whatever. Bumpy lines will not help this experience. Children more readily read fiction/novels, so I don’t want anything to deter them from reading one of my books. Instant readability is ESSENTIAL! But that doesn’t mean I want my poems to necessarily be superficial or lightweight all the time – which some indeed are, but I do want a great many poems to be re-read, and stimulate a bit of thought or reflection.

And overall, for this very reason I generally avoid reading rhyming verse nowadays and mainly read free verse, which I absolutely love. I try to start many of my poems as free verse, but invariably a rhyme, metrical pattern slips in. Some poems just demand to rhyme. Others will let me be more loosey-goosey and play with a free verse form, but even then I may play around – do free verse and make it into a midline acrostic as well. Depends on the subject/age group I’m writing for. With younger children, 98% of my stuff rhymes, for older readers, I’d say it’s about 60%. And in a sense, rhyming stuff is easier for me as I know how it should flow/sound, but free verse is not so obvious, is prose’s half-sibling, and has a quieter, subtler music. Writing rhyming verse is akin to a pop song in 4/4 in a major key. Free verse can be more like a very slow piano piece in waltz time in a minor key!

Whenever I read a poem (ie one by another poet) for the first time, I’ll be listening solely to the music, the soundscape.

I’ll trace the rhythm however blatant or subtle. I’ll listen to the vowels, the consonants, rhymes, alliterations, all of the tricks the poet is using. On second and third readings I’ll be processing the meaning, the message, the narrative or idea that the poem is expressing.

And that’s the same for writing for me. I’m initially concerned with the soundscape – but ultimately and clearly both are equally important. Above all poetry as far as I can see is language at its most musical and memorable – therefore the soundscape has to be well constructed. A poem built with craft is a poem built to last!

As daft as it sounds, when I’m working on a poem I will often carry it around in my head and I’ll be sounding the words out loud, all the while listening for opportunities to tighten the rhythm and the flow – but equally looking to see where I can include extra assonance alliteration and rhymes or half rhymes. All the while I’ll be ensuring that the poem says what it needs to say and I don’t care if it takes months because I want it to be the best it can be. I love words, so working with them like this is a real joy. I scrap far more poems than I keep. In one of my poetry collections I might write many hundreds of poems but keep only 40-50 or so. I want to minimise filler! In theory, I’d rather write just one single poem that I’m really happy with than thousands I have dashed off. This is why I won’t ever read a poem to an audience for many months even years as I want to ensure it’s totally finished. And even when I do eventually read it, I may well find extra tweaks I need to do!

And I’ve observed that children write in a very different way to adults. They’re far less self-critical and therefore they can write more quickly and freely. A child’s first draft will invariably be much better (relatively speaking) than an adult’s. Adults often write very slowly and cautiously knowing they can tidy it up later on. Not so children. Children I have discovered (having worked in over 1300 Primary schools!) write with verve and freshness and also very swiftly and will have no interest (unless without adult encouragement) in writing for any more than the 40 mins or however long that first version takes. Picasso said he wanted to paint like a child. I know what he meant. I certainly try to write is as openly as I possibly can in the first version. I tell teachers in INSET that you have an angel on one shoulder telling you ‘hey, you’re the best writer in world, go for it!’ but then later the devil on your other shoulder pipes up and says ‘Dream on, matey! What were you thinking of? What you’ve just written needs A LOT of work!’ And that analogy works for me!

Wombwell Rainbow Interviews: James Carter Wombwell Rainbow Interviews I am honoured and privileged that the following writers local, national and international have agreed to be interviewed by me.