#but! I’m not gonna let shitty people in my life take that joy of creation away from me

[lesbianfakir]

I always get the worst art block over breaks and now that it’s spring break I’m like. I can’t succumb to it this time. I have to make the most amazing beautiful incredible thing you ever did see

Anyways I wanna make a new princess tutu print but :( I need good ideas. Need to get real insane about the themes of the show and run wild with one of them

[staticscreenwriting]

All you have to be is here - Part 3

Synopsis: Billy has fucked up and has to do 60 days of community service at a home for troubled kids and youth. Working with the kids there makes him learn a lot about himself. Also there’s a girl there his age who’s smile is phenomenal and who is way too nice to him.

I guess I should mention there’s a lot of angst in this. Talk of substance abuse later on, physical abuse, emotional abuse. All that kind of gnarly real life stuff. It deals with kids and teens struggling with a a shitty family life so be aware of that.

Part 3 of ?

Part 1 // Part 2 //

[additional note: I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.  I’ll make a header image at some point.]

I never really ever felt so adored before Never really ever felt this type of vulnerable Don’t have to hide, don’t have to fear All you have to be is here Never really ever felt so adored before And I said I wanna feel like this forever Even if forever’s just for now We’re on fire, let us burn As the outside world, it turns We are here and alive In our corner of time Forevermore

The rain knocks heavily against the windows of (Y/N)’s flat as Billy slowly strolls around the living room. 

“ Feel free to put on some music, there should be a tape in the player “ (Y/N) hollers from the bathroom. The door is slightly ajar and Billy can just about catch a glimpse of her lathering her lips in a bright red color. 

There’s a cassette player on a side table, next to some books and some picture frames. It’s held together by entirely too many pieces of shiny grey duct tape. Billy wonders just how well this thing is still working. Then again, he of all people, should be the expert on broken things working just fine.

As he presses play the opening chords of Bennie and the Jets start filling the room, making Billy screw up his face in disapproval. 

“ Elton John ? “ he asks, raising his voice a little to make himself heard over the music.

“ Fuck yeah, he’s a musical genius. This song is so catchy. “ 

He’s about to skip the song, hoping the next one to be something more suitable to his taste, when he sees her through the crack of the open door. She’s dancing along to the song, mouthing the words and shaking her hips as her hands work on styling her hair.

He stops himself, keeps the song on, if only to see her move like that. She’s cute and who is he to deny himself the pleasure of seeing a cute girl dance. And to deny her the pure joy of listening to a song she likes.

His eyes drift towards one of the picture frames, it’s made of dark wood and it looks quite heavy. In the picture there’s a little girl with a bright smile and a gap between her front teeth. Those eyes staring back at him, he’s seen before. He looks at them every time he arrives at HHTCY. She looks happy in this picture, there’s a bunch of daisies in her hair and she’s holding onto a popsicle. Next to her is a woman who has the same hair color and the same smile and she looks at the little girl with an adoration he’s hardly ever seen in a person before. 

“ That’s my mom. I mean — it’s pretty obvious but yeah. That’s her, “ (Y/N) speaks up from beside him. She’s all done up, her lips a cherry red color and her hair styled to perfection. She looks great, he thinks. Then again, she is naturally that pretty so this shouldn’t be a surprise really. 

There’s a lot Billy wants to say then, most of all he wants to ask what happened. To the happy girl in the picture and the mother that looked at her with love that is almost palpable through a photograph. You don’t ask people that though. You don’t ask people why they used to be happy and why they aren’t anymore. The woman in the picture though, she doesn’t look like someone who’s kid would have themself emancipated at 15. It looks like another life all together. 

Billy wonders if his mom ever looked like someone who’d abandon her family. Who’d leave her son with a cruel cruel man. A man she knew was gonna turn her son into a monster. He wonders if other people saw that in her, a woman who’d run. He didn’t. Maybe he was just too young or maybe he just didn’t want to see it. Or maybe mom was just good at hiding the person she truly was. A quitter. Not a mother after all.

The unshakable truth is that she’s gone god knows where and he’s not going to find an answer to any of his questions so it’s best to lock those thoughts up in a chest and bury them deep inside himself where no one can find them and none of it can hurt him. Not anymore. 

“ You ready to go ? “ he asks, trying to steer the conversation into another direction. Any other direction.

- OOO -

Tina Warren lives at the end of a cul-de-sac. Her light blue house with the white columns and the big front lawn stands proudly in a sea of several other houses that look exactly the same. Like little doll houses mass produced for the perfect suburban family to spend their perfect life in these walls. Billy thinks it’s a bit ironic. He knows that Tina’s dad fucks his secretary and that her mother throws back diet pills and painkillers as if they’re tic-tac. 

But it’s alright, right ? As long as the lawn is exactly the height it’s supposed to be and the paint on the door doesn’t chip and everyone is smiling. God, all of this is so fucking fake. It all feels artificial and wrong. Plasticy. As if someone took the town and replaced all the residents with barbie copies of themselves.

“ Is this Tina’s house ? “ (Y/N) voice janks him from his thoughts.

“ Yeah. You know Tina ? “ 

“ I mean, I don’t know her personally “ (Y/N) replies and shrugs her shoulders making the slightly too big denim jacket slide down her arm a little, “ I’ve heard of her though. Her uh — skills are quite talked about. Also I’ve been to a party here before. Don’t think I ever talked to her though. “ 

Tina Warren thinks her pussy is magic. Thinks that once she sleeps with a guy it inevitably turns him into a lovesick fool for her. That, he knows, is bullshit. It’s not as magical as she thinks it is and everyone is either too nice or too desperate to tell her otherwise. And really, he respects her for her decisions in a way. People, Billy believes, should be able to fuck whoever they want if no one gets hurt in the process and both parties are willing participants. He just hates the fact that Tina makes a big deal out of nothing. Hell, she showed up at his fucking house when he didn’t call her back after — well afterwards.

The house is filled with people, most of them Billy recognizes from passing them in the hallways or staring at the back of their heads during class. None of them are his friends though. He had friends in California. Real ones. Ones that — that tried to see the good in him. That knew and wholeheartedly believed there was a person in him that wasn’t just the monstrous creation of his father’s rage. 

He had friends. Past tense. None of them called since he’s moved here so he assumes the don’t care so much anymore. 

As he walks through the house, (Y/N) on his heels, he can feel the crowd’s eyes on him. When he first arrived here, he thrived at the admiration. He liked when the girls threw themselves into his arms and how the guys seemed to look up to him. The novelty of it all has worn off a while ago though. Now it’s a nuisance. The guy they all seem to admire ? That guy is an absolute asshole and Billy hates him. Though that’s the role he’s played since a very young age, since he was left to face his nightmare all alone. That guy is tough, he’s cold and bulletproof. 

If that’s the guy he needs to be to survive, it’s who he will be. Doesn’t mean that’s who he wants to be though.

He maneuvers his way into the kitchen which is way less crowded. As he takes a beer from the counter he can tell why, they’re lukewarm. Disgusting. 

“ This is honestly the worst punch I ever had “ (Y/N) exclaims and Billy looks up at her, standing by the bowl of punch, red solo cup in her hand.

“ Beer is lukewarm “ 

“ Ok great so it’s either pisswarm beer or terribly mixed punch. So much to chose from “ (Y/N) chuckles before grabbing one of the beer cans. 

“ I’d rather drink this than whatever that concoction pretends to be. Whoever mixed that has no taste buds, I swear “ 

As if on cue, Tommy storms through the door, throwing his arms up above his head all the while sloshing his drink everywhere. “ Hargrove ! “ 

“ Tommy. “ 

“ Hey man, have you tried my punch yet ? It’s real fuel, my man. Real fuel. “ 

Tommy’s punch, huh ? That explains a lot. Where Tommy is loyal to those he thinks will benefit him, he is dense as a poundcake. 

“ Dude this punch sucks. “ 

Tommy turns towards (Y/N), who he hadn’t seemed to notice just a minute ago and now she was occupying his full attention.

“ Who are you ? “ 

“ (Y/N), who are you ? “ 

“ Tommy ?!” 

“ You say this as if I’m supposed to know. Either way, Tommy, your punch tastes disgusting. “ 

Tommy looks at Billy as if asking for help which only earns him an indifferent shrug from the boy. 

“ It’s not. I uh — I’ve only heard good things before. People like it. “ 

“ Or they just don’t wanna hurt your feelings. Taste it man, it’s shit. “ 

To Billy’s surprise, Tommy actually walks towards the bowl and pours himself a cup of punch only to screw up his face in disgust at the first taste of the sugary liquid.

“ You might have a point. “ 

“ What did you put in there ?” 

“ Uh — everything. “ 

“ Everything ? “ Billy asks, inserting himself into the conversation for the first time since it started.

“ Yeah. Just poured in whatever I could find in my dad’s liquor cabinet. Rum, Vodka, cointreau. “ 

“ Jesus christ “ Billy scoffs and takes another sip of the lukewarm bear.

“ Thomas my friend, maybe you should let other people handle the punch next time. Or at least stick to one kind of alcohol “ 

Tommy nods and reaches for a can of beer “ I guess. “ 

As he leaves the kitchen, Billy can’t suppress the chuckle leaving his lips. 

“ He’s not usually this reasonable when I tell him he’s being a dumbass. “ 

“ Probably because you tell him he’s a dumbass. Also you’re not nearly as cute as me. “ 

She has a point there. Not that he’s ever going to admit it. But she does have a point.

“ Ah shit “ (Y/N) cuts in before Billy can even reply to her comment.

He follows her eyes towards a group of people entering the house. Two of them he’s never seen and the other one is Keith Kinsella. Keith is rich, that’s all Billy knows. He’s rich and his mother drives a Porsche that he gets to borrow every once in a while. 

“ What are we looking at ? “ Billy asks, unable to figure out the shift in mood just then.

“ Keith “ 

“ Why are we looking at Keith ? “ 

“ He’s my ex boyfriend and I don’t wanna have to socialize with him. “ 

That is something Billy hasn’t expected. Keith is so — so Keith. He is one of Hawkins typical rich kids who seem to think a bad hair day is the end of all things. A kid who seems so fundamentally different to (Y/N).

“ Keith ? Keith Kinsella. “ 

“ Look I am not judging your taste in girls, alright. I — he was nice. Then he fucking cheated on me like the pig he is. That’s how I know people from Hawkins High. Keith introduced them to me when we were together. Even introduced me to his other girl, although I didn’t know at that point that that was what she was. I gotta get outta here. “ 

“ You wanna leave ? “ 

“ Nah. I just need to get some air. Just — just come find me when you’ve got enough of this. “ 

With that she finishes her beer and grabs another can before rushing towards the back patio doors leading outside where the rain had stopped a while ago.

Billy tries to mingle, tries to enjoy his night. It just all feels wrong. Like the shine has washed off and all that he’s left with is a dull hollow feeling. All these people don’t give a shit about him and he doesn’t care about them either. It’s nothing personal, really. If this was another life where time hadn’t made him numb and bitter, maybe he’d be friends with a bunch of them. It’s not a different life though. It is here and now. 

He moves around the party clouded in a haze. It’s like for the first time since he’s arrived he finally sees his situation for what it is. A desperate measure to cope with his emotional turmoil. He doesn’t like these people, the music sucks, the punch is toxic and the beer is lukewarm. And when before he could push all those thoughts to the side, he can’t do that any longer. Whatever has shifted in him makes him painfully aware that none of his coping mechanisms work anymore. There’s no desire in him to drink his pain away, to fuck a random girl and forget about life for a short moment. He just wants the world to stop for a single second. To be able to breathe. 

It’s about an hour later that he steps onto the back patio, the same beer still clutched in his hand. It’s a warm night and he should be able to see the stars though the backyard is illuminated by all kinds of fancy garden lights and he can hardly make out a single star. He wonders if rich people like the Warren’s just don’t give a shit about trivial stuff like looking at the stars. Maybe the artificial light means more to them. He wonders if they know what they’re missing out on. 

There have been countless night, back when things were — different. Nights that Billy has spent in his back garden sitting beside his mom and looking at the night sky. And she would tell him stories about all the different constellations. Looking back now, half of her stories were probably made up bullshit, but Billy liked them anyway. They always fascinated him. It felt like the world was so much bigger than he could even begin to grasp. He truly believed there was more out there than the tiny house he was stuck in, where anger lived and sadness and yelling. Always yelling.

Now the sky is just a sky and stars are just stars and made up stories don’t give him hope. Looking at the sky now makes him feel very small. Very insignificant in the grand scheme of things.

(Y/N) sits at the end of the patio, legs tucked beneath her, can of beer by her side.

“ You alright with some company ? “ 

“ The company you ? “ 

“ Mmh. “ 

“ Then sure. Sit down. “ 

They don’t talk for a moment, just take in what lies before them. A lawn that looks like a carpet it’s that neatly cut. It’s bordered by perfectly symmetrical hedges and at the far end of the garden there’s a wooden pedestal that proudly presents the family’s own hot tub. 

“ Do you think people live here ? “ 

“ Huh ? “ 

“ I mean — “ (Y/N) starts then takes a breath as if considering her words carefully “ — do you see people actually going about their lives here. Pigging out on chinese takeout on their white suede couch and having a water balloon fight on this lawn ? “ 

“ Not really no.” 

Because it’s a fucking doll’s house. A movie set. People put on a show. They always do. 

“ Me neither. I know I am always wishing for better things. A better job, a better apartment, a better car. But honestly, looking at this makes me cherish what I have. Maybe materialistic things really aren’t all that matters. “ 

“ I like your apartment. “ 

He really does. It’s so unapologetically her. She’s present in every corner and every crack. Her personality floods the halls and makes them — hers. And he is forever envious of that. 

“ Yeah ? Well the couch is yours whenever you feel like staying over. “ 

Being welcomed into someone’s life is a weird feeling that Billy has entirely forgotten about until just now. He’s so used to being a footnote in someone else’s life that it makes him feel strange when someone deliberately and consciously chooses to welcome him into theirs. 

“ Your cat needs to learn how to respect personal space first. “ he laughs but really he already looks forwards to sleeping on her tiny couch again.

“ Can’t believe you dated Keith Kinsella of all people. He’s — he’s Keith.” 

“ Yeah so ? “ 

“ You ever met a single guy called Keith who didn’t turn out to be a complete dumbass ? Like a massive fucking idiot ? Have you ever met a single Keith you could trust ? “ Billy asks, raising his eyebrows in question.

(Y/N) screws up her face in confusion for a moment then shrugs her shoulders “ I guess you have a point. “ 

“ I always do, babe. “ 

“ Do you huh ? Well I’ve never met a William I could trust before either. “ 

“ Good thing no one ever calls me that. It might as well not be my name, honestly. William is a little kid somewhere in California, chasing seagulls by a beach and listening to his parents argue. I’m Billy. Just Billy. “ 

“ Well, “ (Y/N) exclaims and pushes herself to her feet before reaching out his hand “ I think just Billy is a pretty decent guy. So does just Billy wanna get the fuck outta here ? “ 

When he takes her hand, the world for a small moment feels like it allows him to breathe. So he takes a breath wishing things could feel like this forever.

- OOO -

After assuring her multiple times that he’s only had half a lukewarm beer and is okay to drive, Billy and (Y/N) cruise around Hawkins for a while with no place to go, no direction, no destination. 

That’s until (Y/N) makes him stop by a gas station and wait in the car as she goes inside. She doesn’t answer any questions about why and what but honestly, Billy doesn’t care. He’s just glad to be spending time with someone that a) doesn’t hate his guts and b) isn’t so dull and boring it makes him want to bash his head against a wall repeatedly. 

A glance at the clock in his car tells him that it’s just a few minutes to midnight. How ironic. A gas station of all places huh ? It’s weirdly fitting.

(Y/N) hurries back into the car, a small plastic bag clutched in her hand.

“ What’d you get there ? Condoms ? “ 

“ No you asshole. I’ll show you in — a minute and 12 seconds. “ 

“ That’s weirdly specific. “ 

“ Uh-huh. Well can you do me a favor and close your eyes for a moment. ? “ 

“ Why ?” 

“ Billy, “ she says and looks at him in that specific “just do it” kinda way that girls have perfected over the course of time “ can you just do as I tell you, please. Trust me! “ 

Trust. It’s been a while since Billy trusted a person. And that turned out to be a complete shit-show. So for a second he hesitates. Though as he looks at (Y/N) and the honesty in her eyes he can’t help himself but close his. Can’t help himself but to trust her.

She fumbles around with the bag for a moment then the clicking sound of a lighter echoes through the car. “ If you burn my car you’re toast. “

“ I’m not an idiot. Okay turn around — now “ 

The car is illuminated by the shine of a single candle stuck onto a Twinkie. (Y/N) smiles the biggest smile he’s seen her smile in — well ever since they met. 

“ Happy Birthday, just Billy. “ 

Billy Hargrove turns 18 years old in the parking lot of a gas station while some shitty pop songs plays on the radio and a girl he hardly knows hands him a birthday cake substitute made out of a Twinkie and a pink birthday candle. 

Billy thinks this is probably the best birthday he’s had in a while. 

“ How do you know it’s my birthday ? “ 

“ Told you I read your file “ she laughs and nods towards the Twinkie “ make a wish. I have approximately 12 seconds until the wax starts dripping onto my hands so — please. “ 

Looking at the candle, Billy remembers the first Birthday wish he’s ever consciously made. He remembers it so vividly because it’s been the same one ever since. He was 5 and mom had gotten him a really cool race car themed cake from the grocery store. It was white and red and yellow and there were lighting bolts on it and a toy car. He loved that cake, thought it was so cool.

He remembers sitting by the kitchen table, cake stood before him, candles burning. He remembers looking up at his mom who smiled with a smile that rivaled the sun in its radiance. Then his eye drifted towards Neil. Neil and his ever present scowl. His inability to show even the smallest amount of compassion. Of love.

5 year old Billy closed his eyes and blew out the candles wishing one thing and one thing only. To never become his father. 

As he looks up at (Y/N) and her smile and her gorgeous eyes he thinks that maybe it’s time for a new wish. So instead of wishing to not become Neil, he wishes to be Billy. Just Billy. A better version of the person he is right now. One capable of great things. One worthy of being loved. 

A version of himself that deserves (Y/N). 

Billy looks back down at the Twinkie. It’s probably the best present he’s received since his mom has left. And that says a lot because he hates Twinkies.

But it’s a present given to him solely because (Y/N) thought it would make him happy. Because she wants to let him know she’s thought of him on his birthday. 

Whenever he gets presents from Neil, for his birthdays or Christmas, they come with scowls. They’re empty gestures that are meant to keep up the image of a perfectly normal, perfectly happy family. They’re usually accompanied by a talk about how disappointing Billy’s been lately. 

Presents are not fun in the Hargrove household. They’re reminders to keep the image up. Reminders that things could be so much worse. Only could they really ?

“ Do you not like it ? “ (Y/N) questions.

He doesn’t think there’s words to express just how much he likes it. Not the Twinkie but the gesture.

So he doesn’t say anything. He pulls her closer and kisses the top of her head. As if he’s known her all his life. 

Maybe that doesn’t matter though. Maybe all it needs is a few days for someone to become an important part of your life. Time is relative anyway, isn’t it ? Time doesn’t fucking matter. 

“ No I love it. Thank you, (Y/N)”.

For everything.

- OOO -

The skies open up again at exactly 1:34. Billy looks at the clock just when the rain starts pouring down on them. They’ve spent the last hour and a half munching on various snacks (Y/N) has purchased at the gas station and talking about various people from their High schools. 

“ What about Tina then ? “ 

“ What about her ? “ (Y/N) answers around a bite of an oreo cookie.

“ What’s your take on her ? “ 

She shrugs “ I guess she’s kinda unconventional compared to some other girls around, like — I don’t know, Nancy Wheeler ? But I mean, good for her. Right ? If that makes her happy who am I to judge her for that. She seems fine with how things are going and I think that’s respectable. “ 

“ Alright. I agree. “

“ Course you do, you fucked her. “ 

“ Maybe I didn’t “ 

(Y/N) only raises her eyebrow.

“ Ok, yeah I did. “ 

“ I’m jealous of Tina. “ (Y/N) confesses, looking at the raindrops racing each other down the windows. 

“ Because I had sex with her ? “ Billy questions, unable to keep the smirk of his lips.

“ No. No not because of that. I — I envy the way she gets to experience things. She just does things. She’s fearless. She doesn’t constantly have to question herself about every little thing she does. You know ? She gets to try things out and properly figure out who she is. “ 

“ And you don’t ? “ 

“ I’ve been living on my own since I was 15 and even before, things were — difficult. I don’t have the comfort, the stability to try stuff and figure things out as I go. I have to pay rent, I have to keep my job and make sure my grades are up so I get to keep living the way I do right now. I have to be a responsible adult. There’s no room for me to mess up and make mistakes and learn from them. I always have to have a plan and stick to it and make sure that I do things right the first time. I don’t have parents to fall back on when I fuck up. Sometimes I feel like this whole situation, the emancipation and all that is more restrictive than it is liberating. Sure, I’m good with how things are I just — envy people who get to be teens during their teen years. Who get to mess up and not fear that the consequences might ruin their life. “ 

He’s never thought of it like that. Ever since she has told him about her situation he’s been nothing but envious of her. But this is a whole new perspective and for the first time Billy realizes that maybe not everything in her life is as great as it seems. 

“ Olivia Newton-John “

“ What ? “ 

“ You asked me about my childhood crush the other day. It was Olivia Newton-John. Mom had me watch Grease one day and I — pow. Little Billy didn’t know what hit him but it hit him hard. “ 

“ She’s pretty. “ 

“ Yeah, but I’m more of a Michelle Pfeiffer kinda guy these days. “ 

“ You’re ridiculous is what you are “ she says with a smile. He decided then that her smile if probably one of the best smiles he’s seen in his 18 years on this earth.

“ Hey Billy ? “ 

“ Hmm ? “ 

“ Do you wanna stay on my couch tonight ? I just — it’s your birthday and I don’t want you to be sad or go home to a situation that doesn’t make you feel completely and utterly happy. Because that’s how you should feel on your birthday. I’ll even make you pancakes and bacon. “ 

He doesn’t need pancakes or bacon. All he needs is a place where he’s wanted. That’s all he needs to be happy and that is just what she’s willing to give. 

“ I’d love to. “ 

- OOO -

As Billy settles down on her couch, he can hear (Y/N) softly humming along to the radio while getting ready for bed. 

It’s that annoying “Only You” song playing, the Alison Moyet version. Though with (Y/N) singing along while wiping makeup from her face, it’s suddenly way less annoying.

“ Have you ever thought about doing that for a living ? “ Billy asks, hoping she can hear him over the music and into the other room.

“ Taking off my makeup ? “ 

“ Singing. “ 

“ Oh I — oh no. I have to pay rent remember. Can’t be going out there chasing dreams that don’t come true anyway. “ 

It breaks his heart a little, to hear her say that. It’s not like Billy has a bunch of big dreams he wants to accomplish but he also doesn’t have a talent that lends itself as the basis of big dreams. Back when he was really young he always wanted to be a professional surfer but that dream was squashed when mom left and he hasn’t been on a board since. Sometimes he wonders if he’s even still able to surf properly. 

“ I think you should. You sound good ! “ 

“ Even when singing cheesy pop songs you don’t like ? “ she teases. 

“ Don’t be annoying — but yes, even then “ 

Especially then, he thinks, because she makes them less cheesy and entirely more bearable. He keeps that to himself though.

“ Alright, whatever you say. “ she brushes him off with a smile and goes back to cleaning her face though he swears once she continues she sings just a bit louder.

- OOO - 

The racoon is staring at him. He’s 100% sure. It’s staring right into his soul. Dr. K is ramblingon about one thing or another but all Billy can focus on is the stupid taxidermy racoon and the fact that his little beady glass eyes seem to be able to swallow him whole and figure out his deepest darkest secrets.

“ Billy ? “ 

“ Huh ? “ 

“ I said I would like to talk to you about your community service. How do you like it ? Please talk me through a typical day of yours. “ 

Billy pulls his glance away from the critter and towards the doctor before him. It’s his second session and he really wants to be here just as little as he did the first time. It’s not like he’s gonna pour his heart out to this guy anytime soon. To Billy this is a waste of both their time.

“ I get there, we usually set up some things for either arts and crafts or some other group activity. We sit there during those and listen, sometimes I don’t listen I’ll be honest. Afterwards we clean up. Then we have lunch. Then we — “ 

“ Let me interrupt you there “ Dr. K says moving his too big glasses down the bridge of his too big nose. “ You keep saying we. Who is the other person involved ?  “

“ (Y/N) “ 

“ And (Y/N) is … ? “

He doesn’t want to talk about (Y/N). Not because she’s not important or because he’s ashamed or anything. But (Y/N) is the one good thing in his life right now his — his friend ? She gets him. She understands and most of all she doesn’t judge. He doesn’t want to share any of that with Dr. K or anyone else. This is his little piece of happiness and he’s not ready to show it to the world.

“ She’s just (Y/N) “. 

And that’s all she ever has to be.

[zankivich]

A few honest questions: if you believe that Shawn is racist and is willfully surrounding himself with other racists, why not leave this fandom? Why reblog photos of him praising his appearance? Why use him as a face claim in your fanfiction? Why not devote your time and energy to someone else?

ayo these are wonderful and absolutely fair questions to ask. I wasn’t in a mental space to answer them when I initially asked this, and I’m still really not doing well but I guess I’ll give it a go anyway. I can understand how on the basis of a lot of my posts it may appear that I hate Shawn, or that I have some deep ill will for him. I think what’s important to recognize from my posts and my debates that I end up having with people is that I am usually stepping in to defend and rationalize hurt. Like all day on my dash I see white Stans attacking my black counterparts for genuine and deep hurt. The shit with Camilla, the shit with the tweets and the sweeping it under the rug, these are incidents of vulnerability for people. And the vast majority of you do not have the tact or the heart or the ability--I genuinely do not know which it is--to empathize with us, to sympathize with the pain of an artist that has brought you joy and pleasure situating themselves in anti-black rhetoric. And I know that I’m very privileged to be able to voice my opinion in a way that comes across articulate, in a way that many can understand, and that is not a privilege that I take likely. So, I do speak out. I speak out loudly and proudly and I fight for the ability for black people to feel emotions, because at the end of the day some of y’all really need to hear shit like that. And there are times that are absolutely random where I get PISSED. Where I get SAD. Where I get LIVID. And that is valid. There is no script for me that states that I have to hold onto those emotions 24/7 though. I am allowed to be absolutely pissed at Shawn for the shit he’s done, AND I am allowed to continue to support him. These two things aren’t mutually exclusive. And while I can understand why it might be a difficult concept to understand how those two things can exist right next to each other, I truly do find myself in that head space. Please let me try and explain why. 

My studies in university and my life experience and my understanding of the creation of whiteness and thus the creation of a hierarchy of race in which white supremacy becomes the dominant ideology for essentially all of culture (and please really think about this and revel in this because it is not a matter of opinion here. This one is just simply a fact) tells me that all white people are born into white supremacy. This is not something that can be helped. This is not something that they ask for. But our world and our societal discourse has historically, and continues to as well, perpetuated the understanding that white people are superior, are God-lier, are smarter, are more moral, are more intelligent, etc. etc. And I don’t mean to give you a critical race theory lesson, but I ask that you understand what this looks like in practice. It means that all white people are racist because they are born into a society that creates them to be. (and this is a startling concept and it’s not necessarily popular in the larger discourse) And so I actually believe that to use the word racism anymore to describe what are actually perpetuations of the white supremacist agenda that is again engraved into the very fabric of our nation and our world, isn’t actually a meaningful use of the word anymore. It means nothing for me to say you’re being racist, because lowkey you are probably being racist on a daily basis just from the culture alone. What is actually probably more useful, at least in my opinion is to determine what are acts of terror or violence, and then what are the more minute day-to-day acts of aggression that perhaps can be moments of opportunity for growth and education. It is a lot more complicated than this, and there is so much grey area but this is the way in which I kind of situate it in my mind. 

Essentially what I think is that Shawn is racist. Shawn is racist in the way that Justin Bieber was racist when I stanned for him, in the way that Jesse McCartney was before that, in the way that Ariana is, or Harry Styles, or Taylor Swift, or literally any white fave that one might have. What I as a black person have to decide, and have to wrestle with on a daily basis, is the distinction between the assimilation into a racist society that prioritizes whiteness above all else, and a deeper more vile attack against my humanity. So Shawn said the n-word years back and gave a really shitty apology for it. But, does he support policy that goes against my ability to live. (This is where for me there’s a difference between someone like Shawn and someone like Stirling for example). Does he actively participate in discourse that negatively impacts my livelihood or other black people’s livelihoods? So, yes he’s racist but did he in a sense create a culture within his own fandom to viciously attack and dehumanize a black woman every second of every day continuously (and yes this is a direct comment towards Camilla, bite me) These aren’t easy decisions to make, and my decision is gonna be different from one person’s decision to the next and so on and so forth. 

Ultimately for me there is still a really deep connection to Shawn on the basis of music. His music and his energy around music make me feel a way that is comforting, that is uplifting, that makes me happy. And that is worth it to me in this particular moment, which is not to say that it might not change one day. But it is also worth it to call him out on his behavior, to push him a direction of social justice and equity. I LOVE writing for Shawn because I get asks on a daily basis saying that people had literally never thought they would read a story where someone like him could love a fat woman. A black woman. Can you imagine that? That before I started writing there were people who thought these stories would never exist? I believe deeply in the humanity of people and I care so deeply about those around me that it is engraved into every fiber of my being. I want to educate. I want to destroy the status quo. I want to elevate us to a better place, because I think we deserve it. I think Shawn deserves it. I think Black women deserve it. I think we all deserve that shit. And honestly stepping into white dominate spaces is the exact place where the discourse has to change, and the conversations have to be had. So, I’m here. For now. And I really enjoy the content that I create and the people I create that content for. And I genuinely do really still enjoy Shawn. But please don’t ever ask me to separate my experience as a human being from being a fan of blind negligence and unwavering support. I can’t do that. I won’t. And I don’t think Shawn, or anyone else deserves that tbh. 

This feels like an inadequate attempt to answer your questions and maybe you got bored and left already. But I hope It makes a little more sense. I really did try. Thank you for your honesty. I hope you can accept mine as well. Have a lovely day. 

[ser-yolomere-of-swagalore]

Welcome, O life! I go to encounter for the millionth time the reality of experience and to forge in the smithy of my soul the uncreated conscience of my race myself, bitch.

James Joyce -- Ulysses (with some much needed editing)

I haven’t written here in a long time. In fact, after this post, I don’t really see myself writing here every again-- and no, before any of you (if there is, in fact, any one who will see this) jump to conclusions, this isn’t some kind of weird suicide note, or plea for help. What this is, is a sort of manifesto, or a summation, of everything that I’ve felt, and am feeling at the moment, and in a way, hopefully, purging myself of these feelings forever. It’s a goodbye, but also a new opportunity. A creation, as well as a destruction. A final litany of things that I have to say, or wanted to say, and a final exorcism of numerous antagonistic little ghosts that have been rattling around in my head for God knows how long. 

I’ve always been struck by the concept of a sort of Joycean paralysis. Maybe because it’s true-- that Irish people are, in a weird way, struck with a sort of deep, abiding, spiritual malaise, a psychological and emotional paralysis, as a sort of weird, post-colonial hangover-- or maybe because it simply hits too close to home. The narrative of a sort of genealogical, archaeological torpor is one that is all too easy to believe, because it is something that I have experienced quiet viscerally throughout my entire life, but also in a way that is difficult to articulate. The sense that you’re fundamentally at odds with the world around you because of some fundamental, spiritual displacement resulting from years (centuries?) of imperialistic and religious abuse isn’t something that goes well over dinner, after all-- especially when dinner is a hurriedly bought Burger King and the sound of mopeds careening up and down the Cardiffsbridge Road muffles the sound of Coronation Street on the television. 

But it’s a feeling that has stuck with me so long. Longer than I can really remember. This sense of being held back. By myself, by the world around me, by the people around me. Dreams of leaving, of emigrating, have been a consistent fantasy of mine. Occasional spurts of creative writing have always been characterized by the theme of a departure, whether through the realm of some childish Tolkien-esque fantasy or through a plane ticket that randomly fell into the protagonist’s (read: my) lap. That feeling of momentary, ontological vertigo, when the plane leaves the ground and you can feel yourself lifted in that miniature pocket of zero-gravity, is a sensation that I’ve craved and chased (either literally, or figuratively) whenever possible, with varying degrees of success. I even had, at one point, a bit of a miniature breakdown (you know those ones, where they creep up on you, where you have this vague sense that at any minute things are just going to collapse all around you, and nothing will ever be the same) and I started doing some pretty illegal things to get money (fill in the blanks there however you wish) in order to essentially run away, get a plane ticket to somewhere, and just start afresh. But that did crash down, either way-- I started having some viscerally severe panic attacks; I felt like I was going to be trapped here, forever, that I was going to die here, that all the dreams and aspirations I had of doing something worth while were just gonna be swallowed up the dull, plot-less relentlessness with which life here seemed to drive itself--arguably into the ground. I attended counselling, got a professional, objective perspective, and was able to get to grips with things. The anxiety stopped. The borderline insane drive to escape was lulled, and while the gnawing sense of there being a sort of hole, at the center of everything, dissipated, it didn’t quite disappear. I was, once again, able to manage, and plod right along. 

Over time, I’ve come to terms with the fact that my sense of malaise is not, in fact, the result of some kind of literarily prescribed sense of paralysis-- or, at least, not entirely. It is the result of years, perhaps arguably even decades, of mistreatment. By a family and a home that is so deeply dysfunctional that it is, legitimately, tragic. By an early upbringing so neglected and isolated that, to look back and take an earnest look, is genuinely pathetic. By a mindset and by people who see who I am and see something to laugh at. I’ve slowly come to terms with the fact that my family have never quite seen me seriously, as someone incompetent, flowery, soft, and not worth paying attention to. Years, again, potentially decades of subtle gaslighting, invalidation, negation, criticism, patronizing, condescension-- all compounded by shitty, so-called friends, who were all too happy to take advantage of my desire to please and turn it around on me-- had resulted in a person who had so much self-doubt, such a negative self-image, such a horrible sense of failure that, to further disappoint, would result in self-harm. Decades of having my life dictated to me, taking up responsibility and accepting the burden of my family’s terrible choices, of having my potential and my opportunities circumscribes by what seems to be the endlessly unfolding soap opera of my extended family’s self-inflicted pain.  And the worst part is that I simply thought all of this was normal. The concept of Joycean paralysis was able to help me understand, in a vague sense, what was really wrong, but only hindered me in truly understanding its origin.

I worry that if I go on like this I’ll only end up sounding like some kind of serially self-pitying asshole, one of those people that advertises their personal trauma and tragedy as a means to win the Sadsack Olympics, or obtain sympathy, or blame their lack of success and fulfillment on their past. But in the end, that isn’t what this is about. That isn’t the reason why I’m writing this post. In fact, the reason why I am writing this is far more joyous, written with a deep smile spreading across my face. I’ve spent my entire life orientating around myself around other people, of pleasing other people, and I’ve gotten very, very good at figuring out what is that people want, and giving it to them. What I’ve learned, an what I’ve finally gotten the balls to do, is do what I want. I’ve learned to say no. I’ve learned to pursue what I want, to accrue self-confidence, self-love, self-esteem. I’ve learned to deny people, to put myself first, and tell people who need to be told what for. I’ve learned that to be “good” is to give in, to do as I’ve told and take it all on the chin, and I’ve learned that to be “bad” is to pursue what I want, and to rebel. And, fundamentally, I’ve learned that when I am good, I am very, very good, but when I am bad I am FUCKING FIERCE. 

So I am leaving. In fact, I’ve been planning on leaving for quite some time now. Since March, roughly. I am moving to the U.K, getting away from this place, to spend time with people who I have chosen to spend my time with, that I have build up relationships purely of my own choosing and initiative, and whom I trust. To build a life that I choose to build, for myself, and shirking off as much of the trauma, pain, insecurities and self-doubt as I can. Psychiatrist Harry Stack Sullivan believed that the core motivating force in all human behavior was anxiety, and not just anxiety, but the creative and ornate ways we go about avoiding or managing it. According to him, a personality was simply a collection of habits and strategies people gathered over time to “avoid or minimize anxiety, ward off disapproval, and maintain self-esteem.” What I’ve learned, personally, is the sheer liberating power of identifying and deconstructing the aspects of my own psychology that are life-limiting, and taking great joy in completely and utterly destroying the ones that are build up anxious defense mechanisms. I would be lying if I said that it wasn’t scary, because when these mechanisms fall I’ll be thrust, head first, into facing the things I am most deeply afraid of—social rejection and abandonment, unworthiness and failure, unlovability and isolation, to name a few. But it is liberating because I’ve come to realize that, yes, our defenses serve a function, but no, we don’t actually need all of them to survive-- and then, suddenly, an entirely new life is possible. I’ve come to realize that I actually CAN tolerate anxiety; I CAN live with not being liked, I CAN be misunderstood, I CAN make mistakes, I CAN feel bad. And let me tell you, it is a relief. God is sometimes understood as a creator, but he can also be understood as a destroy-- And I am choosing to be the God of my own goddamn life, and taking great pleasure in destroying that which I don’t like.

I’ve ended up prescribing some great, symbolic significance to the act of me leaving. It is me righteously striking back at all the things that had made me hate myself in the past, because they couldn’t simply tolerate hating themselves and needed to destroy me in order to feel better. And so, to them, I say: 

Fuck my family, who have done nothing to actually foster and cultivate who I am as a human being

Fuck the people who have turned my own kindness against me and made me doubt myself

Fuck the people who have made me feel as though my command of words is a weakness-- I am a fucking fantastic writer, and I dare any of those people to challenge me, because I’ll write them into the fucking ground. 

Fuck the people who made me doubt my intelligence; I am more than smart enough to figure things out for myself and smart enough, at least now, to see them for the self-hating, jealous troglodytes they are.

Fuck this place that has made me feel that who I am is wrong, and lesser, and subordinate-- I am worthy, and powerful, and capable.

Fuck this country, and its backwards, stagnant, repressive culture

FUCK

YOU

And that’s it. There’s my gigantic, theatrical display of radical self-acceptance. In a way, what I want to do is leave, and never come back. To delete all my social media, and start afresh. But I know that’s not realistic. I know I have to tether myself to “home”, as much as I disagree with the idea this place is truly home. I will say this, however-- there are parts of my experience here, and my life thus far, that have been wonderful. I’ve got a handful of genuinely fantastic friends, and I’ve forged some very important memories with them. To burn those bridges would be unforgivable, and I would never be able to do that to them. 

It’s 2:16am. I was already exhausted but I had to write this and get it all off my chest. But this is it-- me signing off, forever. Let this be a testament to everything I want to be, an will be, from here on out. 

-Ian.

[blapisblogs]

So somehow Corey Taylor has now ended up in the place where I’m assuming the other Nostalgia Critic episodes take place, which has all these parody posters of previous Nostalgia Critic reviews and Doug Walker’s YouTube plaques on the walls. Doug, you spent a majority of at least the first half of this “review” beating us over the head with how much you hate Roger Waters’s ego, but then you show us shots like this and expect people to not comment on yours? Of course there is a very slight chance that this might’ve been an attempt at self-deprecation, showing that Doug is aware that “Nostalgia Critic” has just as much of an ego as Waters and he’s just oblivious to it, but given how the rest of this “review” is and how Doug has reportedly acted behind the scenes on other projects, I highly doubt it.

Now you’d think that with Corey Taylor here and the “review” being nearly over that this would be the part where he finally says something, especially since we’re close to one of the few times we hear Bob Geldof sing in the film. You’d be wrong. Before Doug can finish whatever speech he had planned for this part, he answers a call from... some dude asking about the whereabouts of someone called Lucy Lacemaker. Oh boy... So something I’ve been mostly ignoring is that there’s a strange creature that’s popped up briefly a few times throughout the “review”. That creature is Lucy Lacemaker, the creation of someone called Fennah, making a guest appearance in this review because... uh... The Wall had weird animated characters in it? That’s what Lucy starts talking about: how the animated characters’ designs were creative but the characters themselves were terribly underused (“All paint, no ink” as she puts it). If you’ve actually seen the film, then you know that this criticism doesn’t make sense. The animated characters and creatures in The Wall aren’t exactly characters in and of themselves; they’re figments of Pink’s imagination that are either meant to symbolize things (i.e. the black eagle in “Goodbye Blue Sky” being the Nazis who did aerial bombings on England), purposefully one-dimensional caricatures of real people in Pink’s life who’ve damaged him (his overprotective mother, his cheating wife, the abusive schoolmaster), or sometimes even how he sees himself in that moment (the mostly inanimate doll and possibly Judge Worm). They aren’t the main focus of the film or album because the focus is Pink and his internal struggles. (I was gonna say “That’d be like saying that Tamatoa should’ve been the main character of Moana when the film is about Moana”, but... no, that would still make more sense because at least Tamatoa is an actual character in that film and not a figment of someone’s imagination, despite what some grimdark edgelord fan theories say.)

Anyway, it fades to... some sort of alternate universe or dimension or something? Whatever, Doug’s now in this world of weirdos who sing about what they think of the film? I guess? This is a “parody” of “The Trial”, the climax of the film where Pink mentally, well, puts himself on trial for “showing feelings” and culminates in him making himself “tear down the wall”, allowing himself to feel and move on from his trauma. On the one hand I get the most basic line of logic for this “parody” (“The Trial had weird animated creatures, so therefore this parody of it should have weird animated creatures”), but this looks and feels so out of place here. I mean, if these creatures were in a video about Tim Burton’s Alice in Wonderland movies I wouldn’t bat an eye at it, but for a video about The Wall it feels so wrong. It gets worse when you know that the animated characters in The Trial all have connections to Pink whereas these characters are from a completely different creator with no ties to Doug Walker at all (or even Corey Taylor, who, you know, is supposed to be standing in for Pink). It’s not like Doug doesn’t have characters of his own or that they couldn’t fill in the spaces of the people in The Trial if he wanted to (Chester A. Bum, Devil Boner, Hyper Fangirl, The Devil, Charts Guy, Bill, etc.), so the lack of using them for this and instead using characters from something completely unrelated to his show made by someone completely unrelated to his crew makes it feel impersonal, which is the exact opposite of what The Trial did. It needs to be personal in order for it to have the proper impact on Pink (or whoever’s standing in for him in this case), so removing that element from it takes away a lot of the punch.

I don’t want to be too harsh on this sequence because I know a lot of people have given Fennah guff over it (and supposedly they didn’t take the backlash regarding their part in it very well), but even with how out-of-place it is I have to admit the animation isn’t too bad, especially given that this was all done in about two and a half weeks. Oh yeah, according to Fennah, Doug Walker only gave them about two and a half weeks to do all this animation, which is half of what it normally takes for him to make something like this. What the fuck, Doug? You claim that you worked on this “review” for at least two months (not that it shows) and you only gave Fennah two and a half weeks to animate their parts? I guess I shouldn’t be surprised given how much you overworked your former associates on the set of To Boldly Flee, but I guess you really didn’t learn anything from that. I mean, the least you could’ve done was try to react a little more to all these weird creatures and places you found yourself in for no reason, yet your acting is somehow worse than the performances in other animation-live action hybrid movies you’ve criticized in the past.

But enough of all that, let’s look at the lyrics for this parody of one of my favorite parts from both the album and film. Because fuck me, we’re almost done.

[Lyrics (and snark) below the cut]

[Note: I don’t know anything about Fennah, their webshow Satellite City, or anything else they do; the only character name I know is Lucy’s, so the rest of these are gonna be very crappy physical descriptions. Apologies in advance for that.]

Someone vaguely like Lucy I guess but way bigger and with horns: Right then, Lucy Lacemaker, The court will take a vote On if the film that plays before us Can in any way show some feelings, Ruddy feelings of an almost canny nature From joys to blues

[Lady, if you and these other characters wanted to do a comprehensive analysis of The Wall, then you should’ve done it way sooner and not in the last seven to eight minutes of someone else’s video, let alone the video of someone who doesn’t even really analyze it themselves.]

Five-armed scarecrow motherfucker: I always said I like a well-made ditty

[Well you’re not going to be hearing any of that in this video, dude. Edit: So I thought this said “I always said I like to wear me titty”, which of course makes no sense, but according to another video, these are the actual words. It makes more sense, but that’s still what I hear whenever I stumble upon a video talking about this.]

I will not suffer shitty Fools that bring forth Naught but pity For their lack of wit and wild

[Jesus christ, is this yet another jab at Roger Waters?! I got enough of that from Doug Walker beating it into everyone’s skulls for the last half-hour, I don’t need to hear it from whoever the hell this is too.]

But here we rather find The result of heart and artist I say the music here is joyous!

[At this point I can’t even tell if this is supposed to be a genuine compliment or a backhanded one.]

But with that, we have to say

Black, spiky, horned demon goat thing: Lazy Left in the attic We’re not crazy Constantly dreaming I just wish they’d give us some more time to live

[How is the film not being about you “lazy”? Are you even talking about this film specifically, or just movies with underused cool-looking creatures in general? Also, this seems pretty ironic given that each of these characters (with the exception of Lucy) only get maybe a few seconds of screentime in this “review”.]

Horned kangaroo lizard titty monster with no pants: Lazy, Constantly (???) as being lazy

[This is the one most everyone points to when they talk about the lyrics being unintelligible, and I don’t blame them because I’ve seen this part multiple times and still can’t fully figure out what she’s saying. Also, I’m sorry Fennah, but somebody’s gotta say it: the lip-syncing here is awkward at best.]

Multi-horned Christmas goat motherfucker: Those little shits They’ve done it now We all deserve personalities They could’ve used us Far more often than they did, But no! They had to go their own way

[Again, this film’s not about the weird creatures for a reason: they’re not the focus because they aren’t real in the context of the film and the focus is Pink and his personal struggles. If you want animated characters with creative designs that have more screentime and development, then I have no clue what made you think you’d get it from this film out of all the other animated media out there. Not every animation-live action hybrid movie is trying to be Who Framed Roger Rabbit (especially not this one since it came out years before Roger Rabbit did).]

We’re bored of Alice! We want the Hatter

[Okay, credit where it’s due, I like this tiny bit here by itself. I definitely don’t think it works as a “criticism” of The Wall, but it’s decently creative in a way.]

Just five minutes more, your honor, Them and us alone

Blue Skyrim-looking dragon: Wait! This film’s not bound by characters It’s a visual affair It never aimed to tell a story

[Were you watching the same film that everyone else was, or are you somehow confusing it with the “review” you’re currently in? The film does have characters and does tell a story, and I think it does a pretty decent job at it (even better than the album I’d argue), unlike this “review” which tries to have a narrative but becomes less and less cohesive as it drags on.]

Rather sprawling canvas of Emotion visual splendor And your honor, we can take that home

[Take what home? I don’t even know what your argument is supposed to be here. This just sounds like word salad at this point.]

Tall Sean Connery-sounding werewolf in a striped robe: Maybe There’s more to the picture Just maybe Both sides of the wall

[...Nobody in this “review” actually knows what “The Wall” that the film and album are talking about is supposed to be, do they?]

Sean Connery-sounding werewolf and white lizard thing: There’s a difference between nonsense, after all That and Creation

Mutated cow monster thing on a moon surrounded by jellyfish: Genius and nonsense And creation

[Okay, again, credit where it’s due: the lip-sync for this thing is awkward, but this is the only person or thing in this “review” with a genuinely pleasant and clear singing voice. Shame that she only gets two or three short lines, one of which she has with the previous duo.]

Lucy Lacemaker: The evidence before the court is Incontrovertible There’s no need for the jury to retire In all my years of judging, I have never seen before

[With the exception of one word in that last part, Lucy’s whole bit here is completely lifted from the original. Some of these were already cutting it close to the original’s, but this is just straight up copying it. I don’t know who wrote this part of the “review” (I’ve gotten conflicting information on whether it was Doug or Fennah who wrote this particular parody), but whoever it was, you’ve got some nerve to have characters call the film “lazy” only to later turn around and do this.]

A film so deserving Of both love and wanting more The way it makes you tougher, Makes you think and feel but suffer, Fills me with the urge to decapitate

[Go on, Lucy! Off with his head! Edit: I guess here’s as good a point as any to point out that, at least according to TV Tropes, Lucy is a lesbian who likes to murder people, so apparently that’s supposed to be funny. ...Yeah, no, it’s not. Fuck you, TV Tropes.]

I believe this film is packed

[I’m being generous in assuming she said “packed” at least, because it sound like she’s saying “hacked” but that doesn’t really make sense. Then again this whole bit in this “review” doesn’t really make sense when it comes down to it.]

With much to be revered But the marvelous creatures Should be adored As opposed to being feared

[...You mean you want people to love the animated creatures based on literal abusers and Nazis?]

Tear down the wall!

[What wall?! In the context of this “review” there is no wall! Even if the context here is that there’s a “wall” between nightmarish fantasy and reality, then Lucy and/or Fennah already broke it offscreen before this whole number started. Or are you talking about the film/album The Wall? If that’s the case, then why are you demanding that Doug Walker tear it down when he was already doing that long before you showed up? What did Doug have to do with any of this? What the hell happened to Corey Taylor during all this?! Why did I waste so much time writing all this down?! Why did I do this to myself?! WHY?!]

[theparaminds]

Creativity has been the anchor point to much of Jimi Somewhere’s life, whether by force or by natural instinct. All he feels, experiences and knows is translated into artistry. Though at times, this has left him expressing him the worst of what he’s been going through, sounds he didn’t feel sure of or fully understand. That reality is now a distant memory.

With both his new work and new outlooks on life, Jimi has learned to embrace his past mistakes and misunderstandings. He no longer takes them as dark points, but as moments to learn from. He stands with a new found positivity, a newfound confidence, in all he does and all he represents.

Now, with the memories truly in the past, the failures finally teaching and his passion stronger than he could have imagined, all seems ready. His mentality, concepts, and vision have fully formed into what he has dreamed of. For the first time, the Somehwere that trails his first name doesn’t seem so distant, so impossible to grasp.

Our first question as always, how’s your day going and how have you been lately?

Hey! Its going good. Been working on music stuff all week and just being productive feels great.

To begin, your sound and artistic stylings are incredibly unique and singular, though that asks the question of how you even got into music and art in the first place? What forces pushed you upon the path?

I’m not sure. I’ve always been this way. My father is a photographer and writer himself so I think the need to create runs in the family. Ever since I was a little kid, I’ve always been heavy into music and reading up on all my favorite artists and stuff. It’s second nature to me. I also played in a lot of different bands in elementary & wrote raps all through middle school. I don't know life without music.

Specifically, have you found your location to be a part of how you’ve shaped yourself sonically? Either by embracing all that is around you or by rejecting it completely.

I think it’s more of a middle ground. I had a great childhood in this small place with lots of nature. But considering it wasn’t a big city or anything, there wasn’t that much stuff to do. Which resulted in creating a lot. I also didn't really have any friends that were as into music or art as I was, and they didn’t live in the same place, so I was mostly on my own in that field. I met Milo, who produces all my music, in eighth grade but even then he lived on the other side of Norway. It resulted in me just discovering and diving into music on my own on the internet, which led me to enjoying all kinds of different stuff.

When developing yourself artistically, how did you come to the name of Jimi Somewhere? What does the moniker mean to you and how does it represent you as a musician?

First of all, I never wanted to make music under my real name because I wanted to create this character I could play with. I feel like if I made music under my real name I’d be much more obligated to tell 100% the truth. Now I have this pseudonym I can write about more, like a book or film character. And for the name, I just thought the way Odd Future named themselves sounded so cool. Like Earl Sweatshirt and Frank Ocean. So I just took a name and a word I’ve always gravitated towards and combined the two.

Now currently, you’re in the process of a new EP, which you’ve been building to for a while. What is the message you hoped to resonate with this piece and do you feel you achieved the goals you set out to?

The overall message of the EP is just ‘take a punch, get up and keep going’. Life gets hard but It’s important to just keep moving no matter what, you feel me? Of course, It’s not as easy as that, but I really hope I can inspire people in some way to not stop, no matter what they get hit with. 2018 treated me both very good and very bad, but we’re still here. Not giving up. I can take these punches! As for goals, I think we made exactly the project we set out to make. Now all I can do is show the world and wait and see if it resonates with the people.

How would you personally compare both the process and final result of your new work compared to older projects, such as Memoria?

Well, the overall sound quality is way up. Milo Orchis mixed both Memoria and this one, and he has gotten so much better. Some of the mixes on Memoria are really bad. Other than that It’s all pretty different. I feel like I’ve gotten better at songwriting and using my voice. The process was different too, considering we made this whole EP in Los Angeles. I think we needed to get away from Norway for a minute just for inspiration. Still me and Milo in a tiny room with bad speakers though, like how we made Memoria, just with new experiences and new inspiration.

Part of this release was also creating a playlist of influential songs to this EP, which actually has a wide range of genres and ideas, what was it that was drawing you to these songs in the time of creation, and what truly was their importance to the process?

I listen to music all the time when I’m not making it. I think it’s so important to listen to as many different genres as possible when you’re an artist. That's when you make the most exciting stuff. When it comes to their importance in the project, I would say some songs have inspired stuff heavier than other stuff. But I love to take different genres and just blend them. Experimentation is key, and to be able to experiment you need to hear what's out there. I think the common denominator in the playlist is melancholy though. Both me and Milo are very drawn towards melancholic stuff, as you probably can hear if you listen to our music.  

But of all time, what’s been the album, or maybe three, that have shaped you as an artist the most? From where in the projects do you draw from and continue to find joy within?

Okay, so for 3 albums that have shaped me the most, I’m gonna say:

‘MTV1987’ by Kevin Abstract. First time I heard something sound so professional and intriguing while made by two 17-year-old kids in their bedroom. That's like the album that showed me that I could do this too. I didn't need a real studio or anything.

‘Because the Internet’ by Childish Gambino. Such an experimental project. With the script he wrote to go with the album, the short films, music videos, and artwork. The way he created a whole universe like that has inspired me so much in my own work.

Lastly, I’m gonna say ‘Pure Heroine’ by Lorde. She’s just such a good writer. And the way she portrays nostalgia and growing up is so pure, no pun intended. Might be the greatest pop album ever, in my opinion.

In your mind, what’re the greatest personal and musical improvements and changes you’ve been able to make, and how do you hope to continue growing as an artist?

I don’t know about changes or improvements, but I’m just trying to perfect everything I do. I want to be considered one of the greatest when I die, so that’s what I’m working towards. I'm still young & learning. Just gonna keep maturing and growing. Hopefully, that will lead me in the right direction.

As well, you just were touring around with Boy Pablo for a minute, how did you find the experience of travel and live experimentation and is it something you hope to pursue further in the future?

I loved it. We joined Pablo on his UK tour and even though it was just a week, I learned so much and had the most fun ever. Performing live in front of a good crowd is the best feeling there is and it's definitely what I want to be doing for the rest of my life. Seeing music we made on a shitty computer with a cheap mic make 1000 people jump up and down is so amazing. My live show is still very in the works so I’m looking forward to getting better at performing and communicating with the crowd.

If you could recommend one film to everyone reading this currently, which would be your choice and for what reasons do you think its an essential watch?

Right now I would recommend ‘A Ghost Story’. It's been on my mind ever since I saw it. The way it captures grief and an existential crisis is amazing. Such a different movie and the feeling I was left with after I saw it was something else. Definitely an essential watch. Other than that ‘Her’ by Spike Jonze is my favorite movie ever and I aspire to create something as genuine and beautiful as that movie.

Do you have anyone to shoutout or anything to promote? The floor is yours!

My EP Ponyboy is on its way! And 1st Place is already out, so go listen and let me know what you think, all comments are appreciated! Thanks for having me.

Photos by Dev Dhusni

Follow Jimi Somewhere on Instagram and Twitter

Listen on Soundcloud and Spotify

[houstonlocalus-blog]

Tear Up the Boards: An Interview with XETAS

Photo courtesy of Xetas

  I had an interesting conversation about the notion that certain songs can seem to become a part of your DNA immediately upon hearing them. Upon hearing the track “The Lamb,” from Austin sweethearts Xetas, I was immediately stuck in deja vu, remembering back to a time holding a Playstation controller with Tony Hawk Pro Skater on my television screen. I bring this specific scenario up because those songs and those feelings helped shape a grand portion of my music tastes for years to come. They grew with me, and I immediately feel joy upon hearing any songs from those soundtracks.

Simply put, this group of three best friends make music that crawls its way into your blood. And it stays there. David’s graveled vocals swirling in unison with Kana’s voice of frustration (especially seen in “The Gaze”) and foreboding warning, all swept in a hurricane of jangling, noise-rock-inspired guitar, threading it’s way between a perfectly orchestrated, pummeling rhythm section, building an uproar of palpable outrage. In a time of turmoil, and with an uncertain future, 2017 has been a strange year for us all. One thing, however, is assured: 2017 and beyond belongs to Xetas.

  Free Press Houston spoke to the band about their new album, The Tower, their energetic live shows, and about what Austin bands they’re listening to right now:

  “The Tower.” Photo courtesy of Xetas

  Free Press Houston: Treat me as if I am a person completely unfamiliar with the band. What I can expect when I come to a live performance, or if I put on this record?

Kana: One guitar, one bass, one drum set, everyone yells. David: Expect a lot of energy and expect it to be very LOUD!

FPH: The new album, The Tower, rightfully brought to life by 12XU records, is a beautifully crafted collection of very powerful and memorable songs. I’ve read in places it was an almost accidental concept album taking aim at our political climate and the negative behaviors that are now empowered by our new administration. Kana: I think if you’re sensitive to the world and others around you, things you observe and react to are going to seep into your work. When we were writing these songs, we didn’t think, “O.K., so this is how the presidential race is going, let’s write what happened in the news.” But the more we’d see and hear about national-scale problems, and also be confronted with local problems that were just smaller echoes of these bigger issues, and we would talk about how we felt about those things and how they affected our lives, as well as what was going on in our personal lives — and then practice for two hours. So it was probably on our minds the entire time without us realizing it. We try not to get too hung up in the studio and look at making an album as a snapshot of a time, mistakes and all, and I think that the timeframe in which we created this album definitely influenced the themes and tone of the LP as a whole. David: Yeah there was no way we could have known that Trump would actually get elected, but just the political and social climate during the period we were writing the album was a huge influence. The songs are more about the personal struggle of the individual surviving in that climate, and not so much about the politics or social issues themselves. FPH: Upon each of you being remarkably talented musicians, you continue to give endlessly energetic performances. Would you consider your live performance an essential thing to behold if someone wants to really appreciate Xetas as a whole?

David: Absolutely. Every time we record I think the goal is to capture the energy of the live show as much as possible in a studio environment, so if you want to get the real deal, you gotta come to a show! You can still enjoy the songs for what they are, but I think the energy of our show helps get the message across and engage the audience better.

Kana: Definitely. I mean, I’ve never seen us, but I’ve heard we’re really good live! (haha) I am huge fans of both David and Jay in their other projects and as people, and I love being able to watch them play. So I bet it’s pretty good when we’re all three up there. One time I wasn’t really “feeling it” on stage and kind of dialed it in, and at some point I made eye contact with a good friend that also plays music and he gave me the most disappointed, disgusted look and I felt so ashamed. After the show, I talked to him about it and he was very direct with me, saying that he could tell when I was faking it and it completely flattened the emotion of the show. Ever since then I try to devote 100 percent of my mental capacity and emotion to each performance, because it really makes a difference.

FPH: Xetas has been a group 3+ years at this point, with an impressive handful of releases under your collective belts. In those three years, as bands progress, what would you say some of the most valuable changes/maturities have taken place to become the band you are today?

David: Personally, I’ve learned to trust myself as a songwriter and not worry about what anyone will think about our “sound” or our “direction” with each new thing. I feel like we’re comfortable enough now that we know what we want and how to get it, and I trust my bandmates instincts. Every album and every tour we get a little bit better at it, too.

Kana: I like that we have figured out how to be completely self-sufficient in that time, which is a huge point of pride for me personally. Our label presses the records, but we manage, fund and promote everything else ourselves on top of each holding down full-time jobs, relationships and participating in the community. It’s a lot of work, but also a lot of reward. We don’t have to answer to a label or an agent and can accomplish the same things other more successful bands have done by thinking ahead and working together. If we find the right agent, we would consider a partnership, but from doing all the legwork and paying all the bills ourselves, we know exactly how being in a band should go and can’t be taken for fools. As a music documentary junkie, the lesson I’ve learned is: know what is going on with your band or someone will take advantage of it. So we’ve always prioritized setting goals and working together, and the hard work is starting to really pay off.

FPH: Austin is bursting at the seams with bands, and it’s hard for everyone to be aware of everything going on. Being a band of incredibly talented, genuinely great people in a city such as Austin, where because of the amount of transplant inhabitants it immediately sets up the mercenary mindset of “I am here to get mine,” do you find more success on the road, or playing locally in a comfortable setting?

Kana: I think we tend to surprise people on the road. A lot of people who play music in Austin only focus on “making it” or whatever, or in terms of getting social capital out of it, like, whatever their idea of being “a notable person about town is.” But we’re not really trying to prove anything, we just make music because it’s what we like doing, and we are lucky to live in a town where we have access to multiple venues multiple nights of the week and a giant roster of peers. When I was growing up here, all the older kids called Austin “the Velvet Coffin” because it was so seductive and comfortable and then one day the lid snaps shut and you’re trapped and never did those things you said you were gonna. So that has always been a fear of mine. I just wanna keep moving and go anywhere there is opportunity and support for us. David: When I moved to Austin years and years ago, it was a little overwhelming, but I never had that mercenary mindset. I’ve always seen punk as a community and not a competition, so I just put in the work and tried to prove myself. It’s definitely easier to pack a house and have a wild show here in Austin, but every time we go out on the road it’s more successful. I feel like the word is starting to get out to other places that we aren’t fucking around.

FPH: Xetas is a beast of it’s own creation, and the power seems to come from the chemistry between members. Who or what else inspires you to create what you create?

David: Inspiration can come from anywhere. Sometimes I’ll read something in a book and that will get the gears turning, or I’ll have a conversation with a friend that will make me think about something in a new way and that will inform a song. A lot of the great bands here in town are constantly inspiring me. We have so many talented friends. We really have to work hard to keep up!

Kana: I’m definitely inspired by my bandmates and conversations with my friends. Our music community is full of passions and projects that are interesting, well-executed and push me to want to be a better musician and artist. I also work in a record store and am constantly finding sources of inspiration in music that my friends share with me in addition to what I find and research on my own. I inherited a love of history from my Dad, and combined with being a record store nerd, I am constantly seeking out new timelines to explore.

FPH: Mentioning earlier the influx of Austin bands, are there any local bands you particularly are enjoying at the moment? What are some memorable shows you feel stick with you?

David: Jesus, too many to name, and I know I’m gonna miss some important ones, but off the top of my head Borzoi, Vampyre, Lung Letters, Street Sects, and Tear Dungeon, who may be defunct now. Breathing Problem… I could go on forever. I think all of our shows have been a blast, and we really haven’t had a shitty one. The last tour kickoff that ended up being the Hex Dispensers farewell show will definitely stick with me for a while.

Kana: I really enjoy Mamis, Hot Fruit, Lustron, and Street Sects for rock or noise shows, and lately I’ve been enjoying Jonathan Horne’s various projects and Christina Carter’s solo shows when I can catch them in town. One of the great things about Austin is that there are so many musicians and bands here that you can see all types of music and all formats of shows, sometimes happening within blocks of each other.

FPH: Now that The Tower is released, what are the future plans for the band? Any slowing down points, or is there no choice but to go all in and take over?

David: I don’t think we know how to slow down or take it easy, haha. We’re writing the third LP right now, as well as working on a short East Coast jaunt for the fall… gonna try to do some radio sessions while we’re out there. Kana is editing together a tour documentary, and we’ll hopefully have some more music videos out in the near future. I dunno, we’re doing it all ourselves so we can do whatever we want, I guess. It’s a good feeling!

Kana: Haha, yeah, I’m not sure if slowing down is an option. Life is short and we have a lot more to do. Catch XETAS at Walters, Wednesday July 26. The night will also be the LP release show for Houston’s own Poizon, with support from local synth punks Criminal Itch. Grab a copy of “The Tower” from 12XU.net or from the band themselves.

Tear Up the Boards: An Interview with XETAS this is a repost