#but every setback just makes everything feel so out of reach and meaningless

[pop-punklouis]

-

[rosecoloredknight]

how do you deal with depression and loneliness?

I think it's difficult to answer this because everyone deals with them differently and my way might not work for you, but I'll try to make sense and give you an insight to how I "deal" with these two aspects.

I'm actually kinda of appreciative that you ask because I've been thinking about what my therapist asked me to do in cutting everyone out of my life in certain social media ie Snapchat and Instagram. The next visit will be wether I'm able/willing to do that. I'm mentioning that because it corelates to my sadness and loneliness.

I don't mean to be too open so I'll try to not be irresponsible with my privacy.

There's different ways I've learned to deal with both loneliness and depression simultaneously. Wait- let's get one thing clear, it hurts. Always dealing with it.

Mental illness can get and is messy sometimes. In fact, fighting for your mental health is almost never something shown to the public, it's not celebrated, truth be told, it’s something that is mostly regarded as uninteresting, yet it’s the greatest challenge someone might face.

Personally, it's something heavy that would always eat away at me. I couldn't think clearly. Sometimes I even felt like I couldn't breathe. It got to the point where I would even disregard all the help of those that were trying to be there for me. I don't know why.. I guess everything felt hopeless, and meaningless. I thought that if I glorified this feeling of not wanting to be here, of wanting to disappear, it would help ease the pain. I was wrong, of course, but I felt shame in admitting to those around me that cared for me that I was struggling, that I needed help. Depression in most cases, is a silent killer.

However, thankfully, I was able to cope with this.. struggle. It not always easy, in fact, sometimes it felt like lonely journey. However, it can be an enlightening and blessing one to say. I apologize if this sounds like I'm gloating. I promise that I'm not trying to that. Sometimes it's difficult to give yourself credit so I'm simply trying to acknowledge and express how proud I am of myself for how far I've come and just how much I'm trying to make ground for the life I've neglected.

There's this barren part inside me that I've been telling myself that I don't want to go back to, but the more I think about it, the more I believe that it's wiser for me to step into that desolated place and slowly begin to water it. I'll stand there and inhale all that shame, hurt, loneliness, anger, sadness, uncertainty, resentment, and the suicidal ideation in me and then exhale out kindness, curiosity, joy, excitement, determination, resiliency, courage, hope, and love untill that's all I keep breathing in and out. It won't be easy but I'm hoping through therapy, I can walk through that part of my instead of avoiding it. Not to forget about it, but to embrace, acknowledge, and tell it that I care that I messed up, that I'm sorry, and although I can't change the past, I can focus on the future by mending that part of me so it no longer a barren side of my life but hopefully a meadow of positivity.

That's 👆🏽 actually what I'm going to talk to my therapist to help me address it. We briefly talked about it, but every time I talk about it I cry (I'm crying typing this). But I feel as though it's something worth.. aiding.

Try to reach out to someone if you can, anon. If you can't, know this: it won't always be that way. If you're currently struggling with depression and loneliness, I believe that you can mend it. Find resources, hobbies, but most importantly, practice coping methods that help you ease the struggle of depression and loneliness. I know that therapy might not be for everyone, but I advise you to please give it an opportunity of you haven't yet. Please reach out. Please try to remind yourself of your worth in this world. Take each day as they come and find ways to make it a good one.

Setbacks are part of life, but you keep trying to "look up" and remind yourself that life is a blessing. That it's not as bad as you might feel it is.

As for loneliness? Sigh, I feel alone right now, but sometimes that a phase in life some of us will have to go through. Become your own best friend. Do the things that will bring you joy. Appreciating your own company makes the loneliness part more bearable.

And maybe someday, you'll make new friends and even find a favorite person? Who knows? I just know that loneliness is something you can embrace or dread. Choose wisely.

I wish I could help, anon. I'll be rooting for you, okay?

I rambled like a fool and I don't know if I made sense.

Here ♥️♥️♥️

Thank you for the ask, anon. You got this 😊😊

[distinctlywhumpthing]

Unintentional 13

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As always, beta-read by @alittlewhump <3

CW: BBU, institutionalized slavery, dehumanization, surgical/medical whump implied and subsequent “side effects” and trauma, explicit language. References to a prior hand injury.

Leo just needed things to hold steady until the weekend. Christ, he had only worked three days in a row with the random Tuesday snow day. Thank god for that. It had been timed perfectly so he could spend the day settling Aiden in. Well, that was overstating it. Settling Aiden was going to be an ongoing process. But at least he’d had the whole day off to show him around the house and make sure there were no accidents waiting to happen while he was home alone the next day. It was clear, after the first night—and everything else— there was no way he was bringing Aiden with him to any job. Not a chance. Near-finished houses couldn’t afford the setback of having to redo work, and houses in the middle of an overhaul were a minefield. Even the empty house where Aiden had nearly become hypothermic, had enough opportunities for catastrophe if Aiden had so much as walked around. Leo wouldn’t risk it.

The kid needed stability and routine. He needed four walls and a roof. Three meals and a warm bed. To know he was safe. Aiden was safe but he didn’t seem to know it. Or believe it. Leo wasn’t sure if it was a lack of knowledge or a lack of faith causing all of Aiden’s fear. He had tried telling him, again and again, that he was safe, but the words were meaningless. Despite their lack of weight, they seemed to do a pretty good job building up the wall between them until Leo wasn’t sure he’d ever get through to the kid. Leo figured he had some nerve anyway, trying to reassure someone who’d been through hell and back. Probably was just adding insult to injury repeating that stuff over and over. He needed to show Aiden he was safe and that he would never hurt him. It was just going to take time.

Leo was patient and careful. He needed to be. Aiden was so fragile. Almost always crying or on the verge of it. Eyes full of tears and rimmed with red. Always swaying to lean against a wall or hold onto the edge of the nearest piece of furniture. Leo could have sworn his lack of balance and that look of unsteady dizziness had gotten worse. But there didn’t seem to be much of a point in asking about it since it wasn’t like he’d succeed in getting the kid to agree to a check-up. That would only undermine everything he was trying to do to gain Aiden’s trust.

He was doing it now, leaning up against the wall at the bottom of the stairs, watching Leo pull on his boots. Tears started streaming down Aiden's face while he chewed his bottom lip, silently.

“Oh, Hon…” The words were barely a whisper as they left Leo’s lips. He cleared his throat but it didn’t feel any less thick. He couldn’t begin to guess why the kid was crying at the sight of him leaving, he would have guessed he’d be relieved. “Are you sure I can’t get you something to eat? Hm? Maybe some hot chocolate…with the tiny marshmallows? You can find a movie to watch.”

More tears.

Leo weighed his options again but he really couldn’t stay home. He’d already been late and left early every day. Didn’t exactly know how to explain why he was so compelled to be at home. He reached out for Aiden’s shoulder but, like always, Aiden’s fingers began curling into a fist. One hand was already hidden in the pocket of the hoodie he never took off but Leo was sure it was following suit. Like he was afraid or bracing himself. Whatever it was, it made Leo’s stomach twist with guilt. He let his hand fall before it made any contact and straightened his jacket instead.

He hated to think that Aiden still felt so unsafe but was willing to put up with it just for food and shelter. He’d thought long and hard about what he could say to let Aiden know he was welcome and safe but that he could leave if he wanted to. “You decide how long you stay, okay? Whatever you need.”

Aiden’s eyebrows knit together. He never quite looked at Leo’s face. Rather, he chose a spot on the wall behind Leo, just past his temple, and would stare at it. Attentive but reluctant to fully engage. He’d give in if Leo pushed for eye contact but it felt like cornering him. Chasing him for the connection felt counterintuitive. So, Leo pretended not to notice the feint. He waited another beat, one longer than was natural, in case Aiden wanted to say something. He was getting used to getting only a nod or one-word answer, if at all. That was part of what made it so hard and he had no idea if Aiden’s trouble with speaking was a symptom of shyness or trauma or something else. Either way, he’d stopped expecting much of anything.

“I’ll be home around five or six after I swing by the store. Burgers for dinner sound good?”

“Mmm’yeah…mmm—mmm—Mister…” Aiden bit his lips together.

Leo tried to nod in a way that wasn’t so reassuring it became condescending. “Everything for your hand is upstairs.”

Aiden swallowed and looked down at the silhouette of his injured hand hidden in his pocket. It wasn’t clear to Leo if he was keeping it in there because it was hurting or because he was afraid of Leo trying to redress it again.

“If you need any help…”

That was definitely a ‘no’. Aiden crossed his arm over his torso, grabbing a fist full of his other sleeve. Fingers tightening until the tendons running over his knuckles were visible.

“Okay, so I’ll see you later.” Leo made himself smile lightly. Forced himself not to hesitate because he was sure Aiden was shaking now and he wanted to put his arm over his shoulders and tell him, once again, uselessly, that he was safe and everything would be alright. But he couldn’t. He stepped outside and closed the door quickly so at least there wouldn’t be too much cold air blowing in. After locking only the easy-to-unlock bolt, he made his way through the slush melting on the path to his van. Aiden needed time, he told himself.

Just time, just a little more time.

Leo couldn’t blame him. It seemed that he’d gotten lucky the first night. Aiden had been deer-in-the-headlights but much calmer immediately after the warm bath. Swimming in Leo’s old sweats for the first time. He’d set his face in patient determination while Leo had carefully dabbed antibiotic cream onto the open welts crossing each of his four fingers. His brown eyes had set themselves on Leo’s face and Leo had found himself humming. He was not a singer. He was not a musical person. But under those eyes, holding the poor kid’s injured hand, having seen what he’d been through and knowing what it must mean for him to let Leo even go near him. He’d fucking hummed.

Anyway, then the whole shit show with the bowl and dinner and Aiden crying and crying had happened and he hadn’t really stopped crying since. The night had been quiet and he’d come downstairs in the morning to find Aiden leaning against the end of the cabinets, waiting for him. It had taken about an hour of Leo walking a tightrope between insisting and pretending not to care to get Aiden to drink half a mug of coffee and eat a piece of plain toast. The rest of the day was much the same. An exhausting dance, those dark eyes never giving him a break. Aiden sometimes looked like he wanted to sink through the floor. Other times, more like he wanted to punch through the wall.

But they’d managed. After an episode of some animal documentary he’d never seen before but he was sure had a level-toned narrator, no surprises, and even some very mild, relaxing instrumental music, he’d helped Aiden upstairs for bed.

“The roads look like they’ll be fine tomorrow, so I can get you a toothbrush on my way home from work. Sorry I don’t have an extra here.”

Aiden blinked at him.

“Come on, I can give you mouthwash at least,” he’d suggested.

Aiden followed him into the bathroom and took the little cup when he offered it, swishing the mouthwash diligently.

Once he spit it out, Leo pulled out the first aid kit. “Let’s take a look at your hand.” He was rifling through the box to find the gauze and hadn’t seen Aiden move but he heard the door hit the wall behind it. When he turned around, Aiden was curled in a ball against it, good hand raised over his head like he was blocking a swing.

“Woah, woah…” Leo dropped whatever sterile packages he was holding into the box. He backed up, not very far given that they were both in the small bathroom and now Aiden was mostly blocking the doorway. He closed the lid of the toilet and sat down, as far as he could be from Aiden and also towering less. Aiden was shaking and hadn’t lowered his arm. “It’s okay. Look—” He reached over and closed the first aid kit, replaced it into the bottom drawer, and pushed it closed. “—We don’t have to do that, not if you don’t want to. It’s okay.”

Aiden’s eyes darted from Leo to the drawer and back. His face was still half shielded by his arm, so it was difficult to tell how convinced he was. To be fair, he never seemed fully convinced of anything.

“Not tonight, okay? We can wait.” Leo nodded, raising his eyebrows.

It took a few more beats but Aiden lowered his arm and nodded back.

“Alright?”

He was crying now but he nodded again.

Leo swallowed the knot in his throat. “Can I help you up?” He knew Aiden would have to search his face again, to weigh these words for a trick or some hidden hurt. No matter how much he proved himself trustworthy. Leo hated the way it made him feel like somehow he’d personally had a hand in making Aiden believe he was never safe. It was stupid to take the scrutiny personally. He was selfish for even having an opinion on the matter. What the fuck did he know?

Aiden finally nodded again and held his elbows out just slightly so that Leo could slip his hands under his arms to lift him.

He was always lighter than Leo expected. Every single time, even though he’d carried him a few times now. Leo didn’t let go right away, to make sure Aiden was steady on his feet and didn’t have that dizzy look in his eyes. He stared up at Leo, tears running down his cheeks, biting his trembling lower lip. Leo had to look up for a minute so he wouldn’t start crying, too. Those wide eyes hadn’t left his face when he looked back down.

“Aiden, I—” He could feel that his voice would break on the next syllable and he couldn’t seem to swallow it away. What did he want to say anyway? I’m sorry? Apologize for being insensitive and so fucking clueless? For making Aiden cry? Even worse, for making him afraid? More afraid, afraid again, either way. Whatever. Leo was fucking this up.

He let go but Aiden swayed. Leo caught his shoulder with one hand. His other hand, for whatever reason, took a risk and reached up to wipe Aiden’s tears away with his thumb. It felt like his heart stopped beating. Like he was poking a beehive and a thousand bees were about to swarm out and that would be it, he was about to irreparably fuck everything up. But Aiden closed his eyes and tilted his face into Leo’s hand. Just like he had that first day in the car. And then he leaned forward, into Leo’s chest and sobbed.

Leo held him while he cried. Until his sobs turned into whines and “m’sorry” over and over and over. Until Leo was shushing him—he still didn’t trust himself to say more than that without breaking down, too—and leading him to the extra bedroom to tuck him in. Leo barely kept it together long enough to make it out to his van before he lost it. He vowed to make some calls the next day. Aiden deserved real help, needed real help. Leo knew he was in way over his head. He didn’t know the first thing about helping this kid who came saddled with so much trauma.

But the next morning, Aiden had been leaning against the cabinets waiting for him. He’d even made coffee and pushed a steaming mug across the island toward Leo. Aiden still didn’t really make eye contact and he shied away from Leo as much as ever but there was no way Leo could send him away. There was no way he could betray Aiden like that. Leo just had to accept that he was out of his depth and that his own discomfort was infinitesimal to whatever Aiden felt.

When he went upstairs to shower after work, he left the first aid kit on the desk in Aiden’s room. Aiden noticed it right away when he walked into his room. He turned around in the doorway, tears running down his cheeks, shaking his head. Like Leo had stabbed him in the back.

“I’m not gonna touch your hand. You can do it by yourself but you have to clean it and change it so it doesn’t get infected, okay?”

Aiden was backing into his room. His legs hit the bed and he sat down clumsily.

“Just let me know if you need help.”

Aiden looked over at the desk.

He held up his hands and clarified, “I’ll be right next door, reading a bit before bed. So, you can try it by yourself and just let me know if you need help.”

Aiden released the breath he must have been holding and nodded.

Leo brushed his teeth and went into his room, carefully not reacting to the fact that Aiden hadn’t moved an inch from where he was sitting on his bed. He left his bedroom door open and read a couple chapters of a novel before turning out the light. He fell asleep before he heard any sound coming from Aiden’s room.

Even though it had seemed like the best move, Aiden was even warier in the morning. He couldn’t have expected Leo to let him never change the bandage, could he? Or maybe he was worried Leo would inspect his work. Either way, Leo kept his distance while he got ready for work and didn’t push him on finishing breakfast. He told Aiden to help himself, same as yesterday, and what time he would be back.

Same as this morning, now with Aiden even more upset. At least Leo would be home for two days and maybe things would even out. They’d get on the same level again and maybe Leo would figure out what to do.

But the weekend wasn’t any better.

By Sunday night, he was sure that things were getting worse with time. Or maybe it wasn’t time, maybe it was just proximity to him.

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” He asked Aiden. It was only the second time but it might as well have been the hundredth.

He kept his gaze fixed on his hands resting on his lap, both buried in the front pocket of the old hoodie.

Leo put down his fork. Ever since the first night, he had figured that eating side by side at the island was better than staring Aiden down at the dining table. Except maybe it wasn’t such a great idea. “Hon, you haven’t touched your dinner and hardly ate anything all day. Aiden—”

“I’mmm…sorry—” He swallowed. “Please….I’mmm…sorry…mmm’Mister.” His dark eyes passed over Leo’s face once before they fell back down.

Leo watched a tear fall onto the grey, pilling fabric. He had planned to take the time to buy Aiden some new clothes in the right size that weren’t threadbare at the elbows and a hundred years old but it had seemed too important to be home as much as possible all week. Now, he was wondering if the distance was more conducive to Aiden’s comfort.

“Hey, hey—” He knew better than to reach out, even though he wanted to rub Aiden’s back. He knew the gesture would only be met with tension or shaking, Aiden trying to pull away, crying harder from the forced contact. There hadn’t been another moment like that hug. Everything since had been a day late and a dollar short. Off and awkward and making everything worse. It made Leo sick to think what had been done to this kid that he couldn’t even be comforted in such a basic way, let alone have someone hold him every time he cried. “Okay, okay. You’re good.” Leo kept his hands where they were, resting on the island. “You don’t need to apologize. Just, uh, help yourself, okay? When you’re ready.”

Aiden squeezed his eyes shut. Didn’t turn his head to look at Leo, didn’t nod, or do anything else that might give any indication of what was going on in there. Another tear ran down his cheek.

Leo couldn’t sit here and watch him cry, he shouldn’t. He put his plate in the dishwasher and took a deep breath before straightening to look at Aiden. The food in front of him was completely untouched, just like his sandwich had been, and breakfast before it. Eventually, Aiden would slowly and carefully take out a Tupperware that was the right size. He’d spend a handful of minutes re-plating the whole meal just so inside it before snapping on the lid and adding it to the growing stack in the fridge.

“I’m gonna hit the hay. Early day tomorrow.” He put his hands into his pockets like by some fucking miracle he’d find a handbook for how the fuck to handle this situation. Or anything.

Empty.

“Help yourself and let me know if there’s anything you need.” He waited one more beat. Plus one extra just in case. The clock on the wall ticking audibly, the refrigerator humming imperceptibly.

Aiden remained frozen.

Nothing else he could do.

“Good night, Hon.”

Climbing the stairs, he knew he’d lie awake listening. He wasn’t sure what he was hoping to hear. Or afraid to hear. Would he go looking if tonight was the night Aiden slipped out? At least to make sure that he had taken a jacket and had some extra food? Or would he just let him go? Should he just let him go?

Leo spent hours turning those last two questions over in his mind. Wondering where Aiden might be if Leo had just left him the coffee that morning or if he’d taken him to breakfast at some diner and they’d parted ways. He still could have given him the shoes and coat. It still seemed out of the question for Leo to play an active role in sending him away. But he wondered where Aiden would end up if he left now. Was he any better off having spent a week at Leo’s? Would two weeks make a difference? Three?

Or was it all just getting worse? Was Leo just making everything worse?

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Psst, there are a bunch of drabbles on the Masterlist that take place between this chapter and the next one…

@octopus-reactivated @maracujatangerine @nicolepascaline @mazeish @whumpy-writings @in-patient-princess @meetmeinhellcroutons @briars7 @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @jo-doe-seeking-inspo @neuro-whump @painsandconfusion @wolfeyedwitch @skyhawkwolf @haro-whumps @onlybadendings @peachy-panic @fillthedarkvoid @rabass @crystalquartzwhump @dont-touch-my-soup @jadeocean46910 @mylifeisonthebookshelf

[come-on-shitty-boys]

//lunch date memories. sakusa kiyoomi//

Request:  c-can I ask for some Omi fluff or anything actually🥺 Up to you- my brain diededed- lmfao hahhaa It's just fully shut down hue- ily Maddi 🥺

Warnings: None bby ;-; just pure unadulterated fluff

Word Count: 1.8K

Notes: Me: ah yes.  Let’s do some nice, short fluff.

Me, 6 pages later: 0-0

“Omi, did we really have to come all the way up here for a picnic?” You pant, struggling to climb the steep slope of the trail.  You were far behind your boyfriend who seemed less than bothered at the hike.  Yet, you had sweat dripping down your face, knees weak from the constant attempt to keep up with Sakusa’s long strides.  

“It’ll be worth it, I promise,” he says, turning to give you the faintest hint of a smile.  He stopped, letting you catch up to him before slowing down his pace, helping you not-so-elegantly scramble over some of  the particularly large rocks blocking the hiking trail that proved to not be a setback for Sakusa’s incredibly long legs, letting him easily step up and over any of nature’s obstacles.  

And you know what?  He was right.  It was worth it.  The view from the top was the most beautiful thing you had seen in a long time. Trees surrounded you, letting the sunlight filter through layers of leaves, stippling the ground with tiny golden beads of light.  Clumps of wild flowers settled around the edges of the clearing, swaying daintily in the warm summer breeze.  

As you catch your breath, wiping sweat from your chin, Sakusa lays the blanket down on the ground, smoothing down the fabric.  In the least graceful fashion possible, you both flop down.  You lay back, chest still heaving with ragged breaths.  Your boyfriend only hums, looking down at you as he sets out to unpack the bag that carried the bentos he had prepared that morning.

“How are you not even the slightest bit exhausted?” You whine, rolling over onto your stomach, untying the soft purple cloth around your bento as Kiyoomi set two water bottles between you.

“It helps that I’m not a shortie,” he claims, tweaking your nose softly between his fingers.  

“Hey!” You huff, holding your nose and shooting him a soft glare.  He says nothing, just opens his own lunch and begins eating in silence.  For many moments, the two of you sit in comfortable silence, letting the soft gusts of wind tousle your hair in every which way as it brings the sweet scent of flowers towards you.  

Sakusa’s eyes are soft as he examines you.  You’re lost in your meal, lazily scrolling through social media, every now and then lips shifting up in a little smile at a silly meme.  Strands of hair flitting gently as the sun’s rays shined against your skin, casting a warm glow on your delicate features.  It looked like a scene straight from a cheesy rom-com, but it’s not like Sakusa complaining.  He’d happily be the lead in any movie if you were right there with him.  It was beautiful.

You were beautiful.

If someone had told Sakusa when he was in high school that he’d be in love, he would’ve laughed in their faces.  It’s not like he never wanted to be, sure, he had crushes, but most of them were just fleeting interests, lasting only a short amount of time and never really going further than a crush.  Yet, here he was, five years later, sitting across from you.  The first person he had ever truly fallen in love with.  And hopefully, the last.  

It was here, three years earlier, that he kissed you for the first time, holding your soft cheeks between his hands, letting his lips move over yours.  It was awkward and clumsy, noses colliding more than once, and not at all what he had imagined a kiss being like, but it was nice and your lips felt so warm against his.  He never wanted to pull away and if it weren’t for his lungs screaming for oxygen, he never would’ve. 

He had been panting, face flushed, eyelids refusing to open in fear that this was all just some fervent dream.  But, you had softly spoken his name and he had opened his eyes to stare down into yours.  Eyes so full of life and love.  Love for him.  He had to move his thumbs across your skin, just to make sure one last time that this wasn’t a dream.  The feeling of your face underneath his worn fingers brought a smile to his lips.  

He had brought you here for a picnic, just like the one he had set up for today.  But, you had made the lunches that day, promising that you washed everything properly while preparing them.  Sakusa had noticed your small sigh of relief when he willingly took second, third, fourth bites until it was inevitably gone.  Conversation had been much like it was now, nearly non-existent, preferring to revel in one another’s company than having meaningless discussions about things like the weather or the view.

If Sakusa Kiyoomi had been told in high school that in five years, he would be getting engaged, he wouldn’t have believed it.  He would have just rolled his eyes, walking off, unamused by the conversation.  But, now, there’s a small weight in his pocket and hundreds of pounds of pressure weighing down on his shoulders.  Yet, the thought of it kept bringing a soft smile to his face, the mental image of you smiling down at him as he put the little diamond on your finger brought the familiar warmth to his heart.  It was a warmth that he felt every single time he looked at you, thought about you when you were apart.

Bentos had long been pushed aside, crumbs being the only remnants.  You had moved so that your head was laying against his thigh, every now and then poking his chin to get his attention to show him something that you thought he would enjoy.  Kiyoomi’s long fingers were threaded in your hair, reaching for the right thing to say.  He was sure that if you had a clear view of his face, you would be asking a million questions, trying to get inside his head and figure out what was with the weird look on his face.

“Hey,” he started, looking down at you.

You lock your phone, putting it down beside you, smiling up at him.  “Hey.”

“Can I show you something?”  When you just nod, he just shakes his head and tweaks your nose again.  “You have to get up, shortie.”

Your lips settle into a cute pout at the nickname, but you sat up anyway, letting him pull you up from the blanket.  He tugged you towards the edge of the clearing where the sun shone through the canopy in the breathtaking way.  Kiyoomi wasn’t really sure what he was pointing at, but he led your gaze to something in the distance.  Yet, even if there was nothing to look at, you still pretended to be mesmerized, whispering softly, “Oh, Kiyoomi.  This is incredible.”

Sakusa pulled the little silver band from his pocket.  He had been waiting for just the right moment for weeks now and it was here.  He had every ounce of courage possible coursing through his body.  

While you were distracted by nothing, Sakusa Kiyoomi sank down to a single knee.  The happiness of just being here with you, ready to move your relationship forward, pushed any of those annoying thoughts about the filthiness of the dirt to the back of his mind.  He didn’t care. You were the only thing that mattered to him right now.  

It was the lack of his presence that made you turn your head side to side, looking around wildly for him.  You stepped backwards, eyes wide in shock as you looked down into his deep brown eyes.  Your boyfriend reached out his hand, taking yours so he could pull you closer towards him.  

When he hadn’t even said a word and saw the tears streaming down your face, he was convinced that he had done something wrong.  He was already getting up to wipe your cheeks, but you just shook your head, pushing him back to the ground.  “No- No, I’m sorry.  I’m just- I’m really happy, Omi.  You can go ahead.  I promise, I’m fine,” you say, smiling wide as you try to dry your eyes.

“Are you sure?” He asks, sinking back down, concern swimming all over his features.

“Yes, baby.  I promise.”

He just nods, taking a deep breath.  “I’m not really the best at words, but you’ve probably realized that by now.  I didn’t really prepare a speech or anything, so this is likely not going to be the proposal you envisioned.  The thing is, I have never felt like this with anyone else before.  Every time I see you or think about you, I just get so stupidly happy and it took me a really long time to figure out what I was feeling.  But, I realized that what I was feeling was love.  I was in love with you and I don’t want to be in love with anyone ever again.”  He pauses, brows furrowed tightly together as he breaks eye contact with you.  “Wait- that sounded bad, didn’t it?”

You shyly shrug as if to politely say yes, but even he can’t miss the breathy laugh escaping your lips.

“Let me try that again-  I don’t want to fall in love with anyone else.  Was that better?” Sakusa quickly waves those thoughts away.  “Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that I love you.  I love you so incredibly much.  I love every moment that we get to spend together and I want more of those moments.  I don’t know if you remember, but we had our first date here.  I kissed you right here in this clearing for the first time.  It- It really only felt natural to do this here, where everything started all those years ago.  I want to marry you and I hope that you’ll have me as your husband, so that we can share more moments like this.  Y/N, will you marry me?”

“Of course, Kiyoomi.  I would love that more than anything,” you say, smiling down at him, holding his face in your hands.  “Or, should I say, shortie,” you tease, pinching his own nose in retaliation.  

Your boyfriend, or rather, your fiancé slowly got back to his feet, looking down at you from his incredible height.  “What were you saying, shortie?”  There’s a gentle smile on his face as he  takes your left hand, placing the ring on your finger.  “I love you, honestly,” he whispers, pressing his forehead to yours.

“I love you more, Omi.”

And just as it had begun, this chapter of your life ended with lips connected. But this time, less awkward and significantly more graceful.  There was no clumsy bumps of noses, but even after all these years, Sakusa Kiyoomi found himself unwilling to pull away.

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Alien movies are military training videos.

Thirteen years after what became known as the “Contact Wars” a relative peace had been established between the Ureti Conglomerate and the Terran Federation.  The Ureti were several species which had banded together for mutual protection, their leadership following closely along the lines of a military council with members from all Conglomerate species represented. The Federation was made up of all human nations on both their homeworld and outlying colonies under the leadership of an elected general secretary.  The war started over a disputed colony on the planet Karkova where human settlers were driven off by a Conglomerate mining detail. Some deaths on both sides happened which resulted with fierce back and forth between the two powers. It didn’t take long for open hostilities to be triggered and full scale war was declared soon after. The Conglomerate assumed that with their vast technological superiority the war would be over in less than a solar cycle. Instead, it devolved into a grueling thirteen year conflict which saw countless lives on both sides lost and in some cases entire worlds were devastated. This was the first major setback the Conglomerate had experienced against a foe they were assured would be no threat. The humans standard weaponry was so basic that they relied on firing metal projectiles at high speeds instead of concentrated energy rounds and their fleets were limited in the distance they could travel. Yet still their advance was that of an onrushing tide. They laid ambushes for Ureti fleets, sabotaged supply lines far inside Ureti territory, launched seemingly suicidal raids on orbital platforms and facilities crippling the ability to refit. The planetary invasions soon followed and despite once again being outmatched in weaponry Federation forces were able to time and again overcome impossible odds.  With the war reaching ever closer to the home worlds of Ureti the leadership made the move to sue for peace. They gave up several outlying colonies to the Terran’s along with the rights to several mineral and gas mining outposts. In truth these facilities and planets were so badly damaged that to rebuild them would have been far more expensive than simply uprooting the populations to less damaged worlds. The real reason such measures were taken was so that the Terran’s would not be suspicious when the Ureti wanted the Terran military to allow special “advisers” from the Ureti to be attached to Terran forces. The cover was these advisers would be there to ensure that the Federation would honor the peace accords, but in reality they would act as spies to learn how such an underdeveloped species had been able to anticipate and overcome the Conglomerate.  ------- Lilith Shilva strode through the halls of the Terran base. She was an Ureti adviser assigned to the Terran assault frigate “Hammer of Texas”. In many ways she nearly passed off as human herself, were it not for her reverse jointed limbs and ten fingered hands. To those that paid her any mind they assumed she was solely focused on reading the information packet and moved on. It was so easy to cover her real intentions it was almost laughable. Lilith’s species had excellent peripheral vision with such clarity so even though her eyes were focused on the meaningless information packet she was really taking in everything else around her. Uniform symbols, response times, any technical device, etc.  She was observing everything and yet despite being stationed here she was no closer to achieving her mission than when she started ten weeks ago. The lack of progress led Lilith to assume that somehow the humans had learned of her mission and were intentionally misleading her by covering their tracks.  It’s what she would have done, but the sheer size of the mascaraed seemed unlikely. The entire crew of the ship along with support staff and troop detachments that had moved on and off would have to had to been on the play, and by Lilith’s count that would have been nearly 5,000 personnel. With so many people it was possible that one would let slip and reveal the game, yet none did.  So lost in thought and observation Lilith failed to notice someone calling out her name until she felt an hand nudge her back to the present. “Lilith!” She turned and looked down at the human calling her and sighed.  “Greetings attache Philip. Is there something I can help you with?” In truth she had no interest in helping the little man that had been assigned to her as a guide. She couldn’t put her fingers on why she disliked him, in truth he was polite and cordial. It might possibly be due to his starry eyed gaze he had whenever he was looking at her. He probably thought he could attempt to mate with her, a thought alone that nearly made her displace her stomach contents.  “I was wondering if you cared to join me and some of the other crew members tonight for a get together?” Lilith couldn’t help but let out another sigh as once again attache Philip was inviting her. It seemed that ever since their posting together he tried to get her to further interact with him and the crew on a personal level. Because it did not advance her mission she had politely declined each time. “I apologize attache Philip, but I will be busy.”  Philip appeared crest fallen once again. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” “Indeed, my apologizes once again but I must be going.” Lilith turned and resumed her walk.  “It’s just that..” Philip said as he began walking beside her. “Jenkins from engineering got a care package from Terra that he’s been waiting for for weeks now and..” “I apologize again attache Philip but I have pressing work to be done.” She was in no mood to further entertain his ramblings and once again attempted to extradite herself.  “I just remembered that you mentioned wanting to learn about human culture and Jenkins got a movie that’s a prime example of it.”  Lilith stopped walking and turned around. “What is a “Movie”?” Philip perked up sensing a chance. “It’s a type of recording used for various purposes ranging from entertainment to training.” Training? Lilith paused to consider. It seemed these movies were crucial enough for human culture, possibly even used to pass along crucial information to a wide sect of the population.  “On second though attache Philip,” she gazed at Philip “my work load can wait until tomorrow. I would be grateful to join you.” She then smiled at him. She was still unsure why showing her teeth seemed to trigger feelings of pleasantness for humans but it was a trait she picked up on. “Philip smiled back excitedly. “Great! Come down to the rec room on deck 7 bulkhead D around 8pm ship time. We already have food and drinks so you just need to bring yourself.” “I look forward to it.”  -------------- Lilith approached the designated room Philip had mentioned and entered. The room appeared to be filled with people sitting on a variety of furniture such as chairs or “couches”. She gazed around for several seconds before spotting Philip who smiled and waved at her, motioning her over to him. As she got closer he moved over some opening more space. “I’m so happy you were able to make it in time!” He patted the spot next to him. “You got here just as the movie is about to start. I saved you a spot.” Faking a smile once more she nodded and took the space next to him. “My thanks attache Philip.” He laughed as if she had just spoken a joke. “You know you can just call me Philip. You don’t have to add my title in front of it every time.”  Lilith was about to respond when a crew member stood up in front of the crowd and the crew members began cheering and clapping. “Right, my name’s Jenkins and I’m the sponsor of tonight’s movie night addition.” A further round of cheers and applause sprang up. “Enough of that. Let’s just get to the movie!”  The lights went dark. Lilith tapped her head and activated the hidden recording device she had implanted. A projection device appeared from the ceiling and began displaying a picture. Words began slowly appearing from the darkness which spelled out “Independence Day”. ------- Two and a half hours later the lights came on and the crowd began shuffling out. Philip turned to look at Lilith. “So, what did you think?”  Lilith remained frozen in place for several moments, still contemplating what she had just seen. The human species at a far earlier point in time with far less advanced technology defending their planet against a vastly superior enemy. And according to the time frame this was several hundred years old.   “It was.......it was...” She couldn’t find the words. She had stumbled upon the secret to the human victory. This previous invasion several hundred years ago must have trained them well enough. Even the Ureti didn’t have the technology that the human’s enemies possessed in the film. “It was that good wasn’t it?” Philip asked. She didn’t fully understand how he could remark that it was fun watching millions of his own kind killed. “How did your planet recover after such devastation?” Philip cocked his head to the side. “I don’t understand. Did you think that was real?” “Wait, it wasn’t?”  Philips began laughing and Lilith felt insulted. She stood up suddenly and glared at him. His giggles slowly died down as he examined her expression. “Wait, you’re not joking?” You’re serious?” “Yes! How can you laugh at the slaughter of your own people!”  “Lilith, I see now that there has been a misunderstanding. Everything you just saw was fake.” Lilith felt like she was being mocked again and continued to glare at him. “Really, it was! All special effects and actors.” Lilith could sense the serious tone in his voice which only made her more confused. “So....the destruction wasn’t real? None of it?” Philip motioned for her to sit back down which she did.  “The people you saw were what we call “Actors” and the movie you watched was a..”, Philip struggled for a word she would understand, “ a scenario. Yes, a  scenario of what could happen.” Lilith was slowly understanding it. This “film” as Philip had called it, was a military simulation of a scenario which had humanity outgunned and on the defensive. It was shaped as a form of entertainment so the larger population would watch it and unknowingly gain the necessary knowledge of what to do in such a situation. Lilith could not help but shudder as she realize that the Terran’s leaders had devised such a cunning method of training their entire population in military tactics.  “Do you understand now?” Lilith was drawn back from her thoughts. “Yes, thank you for explaining it to me. I apologize for for my reaction over this misunderstanding.” She needed to leave at once and report back to command she had found the source of humanities advantage in the war. She would also need to acquire the film itself as evidence.  “No worries Lilith, I understand it must seem pretty shocking for someone of a different culture.” They both stood up and began moving towards the door. “I hope you’ll join us again for the new film tomorrow.” Lilith stopped.  “You mean there are more of these films?” “Oh yes!” Philip said, excitedly gazing at her again. She smiled back as it now appeared obtaining a copy would be far easier if there were several of them. “This one is called “Alien” and is a bit scarier so you can hold on to me if it gets too intense.” “Wait, you mean there are more than one of these films?” “Why of course.” “And each one tells a different scenario?” “Oh yes! If you want I have my own collection we can watch together if you’re interested.”  Lilith smiled a real smile for the first time since she arrived on the human ship. “I would find it most enjoyable.” She remarked as they walked away, realizing that Philip would become a vital source of human training scenarios.  ---------------------- + 5 months later Ureti command was feeling anxious. They had not received a report from operative Lilith in several dozen cycles now and feared that she had been discovered. The potential fall out ranged from discovery of the wider operation at large resulting in political backlash, to reigniting the war. So when a report from operative Lilith finally arrived most of the senior command breathed a sigh of relief and gathered to view it.  “This is operative Lilith Shilva making report number 0240. I apologize for not responding sooner and will accept any punishment upon my return but first I wish to explain my actions for the delay.  While stationed aboard the Assault Frigate Hammer of Texas I discovered a form of human training material that was being dispersed to the population as entertainment.” The senior commanders grumbled. Training material was nothing new to them.  “I developed a relationship with my attache Philip and used him as a source to discover how in depth these training materials went. It seems for the last several hundred years human leaders have made military training scenarios into “Entertainment” for the public. These scenarios ranged from a full scale invasion to a single strike force infiltrating the planet. In the majority of the situations the human combatants are vastly outgunned both in numbers and technology. The initial fight is often lost forcing the remaining population to go to ground. From here humanity often is forced to come up with unorthodox tactics and methods to regain the initiative.”  This slightly surprised the senior staff. The idea of facing a foe that was superior to themselves had never crossed their minds as most often they encountered primitive species.  “These scenarios have been in circulation for several hundred years now and individual households even have collected different scenarios that they found the most “entertaining”. Entire groups have formed around certain selection to discuss and debate the scenario and devise better ways for survival had they been in them.” The command staff was now in shock at the sheer scale of tactical aspect humanity had applied. These films had turned the general population into strategists while masking it as if it was meant for enjoyment. Even those that did not become commanders in the Terran military would still have an understanding of tactics and strategies. Effectively they had turned themselves into and army of generals.  “ My final assessment is that by placing repeated situations of inferiority and at a tactical disadvantage, human leaders have been trained to think of radical tactics that would otherwise not even be considered. They have been trained to use the unusual and at times crazy suicidal plans to overcome their enemy. What’s more it also has pointed out the flaws within the Ureti military. By constantly believing ourselves superior to all those around us we have narrowed our overall vision. We lack that creativity they posses and have become so assured of our superiority that we can not think outside of standard doctrine.” “At this time I am continuing my research into these films with my source who is actively providing them for me to watch provided we do so alone in his quarters. I will attempt to acquire as many copies as I can and pass them along back to you. With any luck we can learn from these and adapt ourselves for the coming wars.”   

[witchdaggahmoon]

The farewell of a God

A long time ago, there were a master and his most loyal servant.

Their names, where they come from, and even why they were fighting has been forgotten since long ago. But they carried a war, a war that they ended up winning thanks to his servant given that he was an immortal being.

This man, having already lived a long time, started growing apathetic and sick of living, getting to the extreme of creating a specially-designed instrument with spikes on either end to pierce it through his skull, unsuccesfully in killing him.

Eventually he met his master and gave to his life purpose again, as her right-hand.

He served with the most strong dedication to her cause, he fought more fierce than any other warrior, with the most resolute of minds. He became a legend among his companions and completed his task to end the war. Yet his legend is now written nowhere, history won't remember him, nowhere in the annals shall he be mentioned.

But that's what he wanted, for once his purpose ended there was nothing to him. Nothing to be ashamed, nothing to be proud. He didn't see himself worthy to be even remembered.

His master, knowing of this and thinking all of the contrary decided to make a gift for him, but not an ordinary one. She knew that nothing would ever fill the emptiness within him so instead of giving him jewels like to the other soldiers, she searched for information all around the world.

The result? A dagger capable of end his inmortality,to gave him a completely new opportunity. But it came with a price, and that was her own very life.

And so then, he was called to met her in a beach near their house during the night and was given his gift along the explication.

It was something that he would never expect, both for the possibility of dying and the noble gesture from her.

After talking a few hours, she was about to take her leave when she said:

—Alright, I'll leave the rest t-

She interrupted herself with a little chuckle.

—Here I was, about to send you off with my usual farewell. To think I won't be able to say my customary line anymore is a little sad.

—...Then why not say it?

—Hm?

It's true that we no longer share a common purpose. My actions will be now entirely my own.

—I'm well aware, I told everyone that you'll be fine, that's what you want after all.

—Was that convincing?

—Well, what do you imagine? It seemed to depress them.

—I'm not talking about them. I'm talking about you.

—What do you mean by that?

—You told me that when peace finally came, it would be time for me to play my role. Back then,it sounded like you wanted me to live as a "Storyteller". Why tell me that? You should have known that the day would come when our paths would diverge.

—Because I knew, I knew that I didn't want to leave you with the words of a master to a servant. I wanted to part as friends

"Friends"

The word was something that at this point was meaningless to him. It was something forgotten, without a value, something that just dissappeared.

But now it was making an echoe through his head, like a revelation.

And he just could murmure to himself that word, like a child learning something new, amazed after so many years.

It was a overwhelming, bittersweet and warmth sensation.

Memories, feelings, all from a lifetime ago appeared before his own very eyes.

His flesh for a few moments was able to feel something else that pain.

The time when he had a life, a purpose, a family, friends.

It was like everything formed a cylindrical space, like that one when his life was cursed, but free of any kind of horrible sensation, with no birds.

Only to be interrupted with a silly question:

—Was that too embarrassing?

He turned his head nodding, and not long after, he asked her something else:

—If there were a God, what would you hope for?. Not what you'd wish for, but rather, what would you like that God to be like?.

A long silence started, she couldn't think on a worthwhile answer.

Time passed and he only could bring up that she has never been much for small talk.

They started arguing in a friendly way, jumping from one topic into another, until one thing was bringed up.

Even after that much time working for her, she still didn't know almost anything about him.

The apology from his master was quickly accepted by him, but he turned to see the moon.

—Let me tell you a story from long, long ago. I once tried my hand at playing God.

He then walked closer to the water, staring this time into the ocean before starting:

—I settled in a village and started performing good deeds, I wanted nothing more than to use my curse to help people. Sometimes, that took the form of healing wounds and illness. Other times, I toppled tyrants. And for my trouble, I was punished; even put to death. A minor setback, given that I'm immortal. People celebrated my many returns as miracles.

—I see, then you really were a God to them.

—I was. And it was by no means an unpleasant feeling. Over time, word of my exploits had spread to other settlements. People from afar sought my aid. I went to help these new villages, just as I did the first. And when things finally settled down, I made my way back to the first village torestmy weary mind. I believed that I would be welcomed with open arms. I was a fool. My return drew nothing but criticism.

—After growing accustomed to your powers, the village took you for granted.

—That's right.They blamed me for every negative event that occurred during my abscense. It was then that I realized. I wasn't a savior to these people. I was merely a repairman whose absence inconvenienced them. I was nothing more than an everyday system. You can imagine how disappointing this was to one who saw himself as God. If nothing else, at least you can't compare God with a system. But what does that make God, who can soothe people's souls?. What exactly is God trying to save?.

—This is why you asked me what I hoped God would be? Are you still looking for an answer?.

—You've already shown me one, so I'll tell you what I think. There's something that exists beyond people's understanding of this world, something close to their hearts. When such an existence earns their belief, it is called God. In it, people can find true salvation. And if there were an immortal storyteller in this world, he would likely find a place close to people's hearts as well. In wich case, I might be able to truly save people. So please, say it. Tell me you'll "leave the rest to me". I'm certain now that I can live up to those words. As your friend.

The moonlight rays showed that a smile had been drawn on his face, along with thin shiny lines descending down his cheeks, it was something that his master never saw in all of his life.

Clearly astonished, she could only smile with him before saying his last words and leave after a tight embrace:

—Thank you...Very well, I'll leave the rest to you.

After that, he took his leave, to the mountains, the place where he first died. From there, he could see that first village, and with no pressure he taked the special dagger given by his master and stabbed hymself in the chest. He would be free after so long lifetimes, to live the only one that he always wanted, the one that was stolen from him, and the one his only friend wanted for him. The sight of the village was blurring, the sound of the birds was everytime sounding more far away, the only thing he could smell was that oxidated scent from his own blood and through the blade he feeled how his heartbeat was getting weaker through the blade. And finally he said his last words to the world:

—Here are clothes and shoes, even a map is prepared. Nothing left for divising, nothing left to find out. Wash, wash away the knowledge, before becoming just a machine that breaths.

But even after that he found himself in that cylindrical space with those window-like mirrors, and the birds that anchored their gaze on him. Eventually the birds ended up transforming their gazes into excruciating pain that pierced every inch of his body until he experienced the maximum amount of pain a human can experience, just like the first time. And at the same time all of them started screaming that now familiar song for him:

To survive! To connect! To descend! Die a ruthless death, that's life! A meaningless life, that's death!

Fly! Get high! Dive! Burn out! Before the moon's domination!

Fly! Get high! Dive! Burn out! Before being dragged down!

Don't lose your wings! Even if they turn to ash! Even if they turn to dust!

Fly! Get high! Dive! Burn out! Even if you writhe! Even if you starve! EVEN IF YOU DIE!

Everything was slowly turning black, all the pain was dissappearing, finally, everything reached an end. But not without he noticing that "Even if you die!" was something new in the song, a farewell from the birds to him.

It was the farewell of a God. And the birth of a new life. A life of a storyteller that is going to likely found a place close to people's hearts just like that friend now lives in his own.

[freehway]

THINGS I KNOW THAT I SOMETIMES FORGET…

Okay my little darlings. I’ve been meaning to write this up for a while. I hope it is helpful to you. What follows is a list of reminders I made for myself a few years ago. I’ve been reading about and studying these types of concepts, across the disciplines of physics, psychology, art, religion, and spirituality, for decades.

One day, when I was playing in the woods and feeling particularly “tuned in,” I saw this big beautiful rainbow, and I thought about how rainbows are seen as promises from God/the UNIVERSE. I felt that the promise the UNIVERSE was making was that, knowing what I now know, I should never have to really feel pain again.

Now, I know, that’s awfully ambitious. But I must say, with these things in mind, it’s hard to feel bad about anything. However, it is also hard to keep these things in mind, which is why I still flounder myself from time to time.

The following comprises some of the things I’ve learned over the years, which if kept in mind, can free one from a great deal of negative emotion and upset. After seeing the rainbow that day, I wanted to clarify these ideas for myself.

Of course, in the heat of the moment, when we’re already upset, it’s often too late to use these concepts. However, if you work with them enough, and internalize them, they should help change your thinking enough to curtail some of those moments before they get to that irredeemable point. There’s certainly more that could be listed here, but this was for my own personal use, and the concepts which I focus on here are those that corresponded to my own set of negative thoughts and emotions (thinking about how bad something is/was, worrying about something bad happening or that I’ve done or will do something wrong, etc.).

So, without further ado, here it is, just as I once typed it up for myself:

With everything that you know, with all that you’ve learned and experienced, you see there is no reason to feel anxious, no need to worry about anything, ever.

1. Nothing “bad” can ever really happen, because “good” and “bad” don’t really exist in an absolute form. For every event we could call “bad,” there are “good” things that came about as a result. The same is true for events we might call “good.” Without a divine perspective, it’s foolish to think we could know what might be “good” or “bad.” There is no such thing as “evil” in nature; the hawk is not “evil” for killing the rabbit. So it goes with human endeavors. I often remind myself, the UNIVERSE knows better than I do. Labeling events as “good” or “bad” is a shallow reduction of life.

2. Everything happens for a reason. This has been proven to me in so many remarkable ways, time and time again. Consider instances in your life where struggles and setbacks actually led you to a greater place. How can we deny that the UNIVERSE is working out a plan for us? That plan is more beautifully complex than we could ever imagine, with our limited human brains. Just trust the unfolding.

3. Everything has always, and will always, turn out okay. You’ve made it this far, right? If you trust the unfolding of the UNIVERSE’s plan, you know that it will guide you to your highest joy.

4. When negative emotions are being caused by my thoughts of other people, I’ll tell myself, “Eh, I don’t care about them.” This may sound a bit cold, but my weakness is actually caring too much. So, I have to remind myself to have no concern about what others think, as it almost never has any real bearing on me anyway. Furthermore, we assume we know what they think, when really, we have no clue. And what about solipsism? What if other people don’t even really exist? They might not even be real. And if they are real, you don’t know what they really think anyway. Even if you did, you certainly can’t control it. So, who cares? It doesn’t even really affect you, does it? Whatever they’re thinking only affects them.

5. When negative emotions are being caused by thoughts regarding time, I’ll remind myself that time is actually meaningless. This is what modern quantum physics has uncovered. Time, as we understand it, DOES NOT ACTUALLY EXIST. I will write a separate post on this soon, in case you’re not convinced or you need to understand this concept a little more concretely. Whether you understand it right now or not, just know that it’s a false premise and that you can move beyond it. Give up thoughts of past and future, for your true nature is eternal.

When I say your “true nature,” I mean the nature of your soul, your energetic core, your inner being, the thing that will remain after you’ve shed your earthly vessel. You should probably come up with your own terminology for this. I often call it THE PEARL, since I like to think of a ball of shiny, pearly-white energy right in the center of my body. In Invitation to a Beheading, when Cincinnatus divests himself of his physical form one night before bed, Nabokov calls it the “pearl ring embedded in a shark’s gory fat- O my eternal, my eternal… and this point is enough for me- actually nothing more is necessary” (90). That imagery really spoke to me.

If your true nature is eternal, then concepts such as “past” and “future” are meaningless. You dwell in a realm beyond time.

6. If anything were to ever “go wrong,” (and that’s in quotation marks because if nothing is really “good” or “bad,” then nothing can truly be seen as “going wrong”) you can simply cross that bridge when you come to it. An example of this that really hit home for me- I often avoid busy places, such as gas stations which I know will be crowded. Sometimes, I experience anxiety the moment I leave the house, readying myself for what I think will be a terrible ordeal in a busy public place. However, I realized one day, that I was given a brain for a reason, to solve problems and overcome challenges with it. As I drive down the road toward the dreaded gas station, all the fear and anxiety is utterly useless. But once I get there, I can use my brain to navigate the situation. I will use my eyes to look around and find empty pumps or parking spaces. I will use my brain to successfully make it through. I know that I’m smart enough, and capable. It will be a perfect opportunity to use my brain, exactly what it’s meant for. Furthermore, whatever we’re worried about is almost never as bad as we thought it would be.

That seemed to cover my most common anxieties, but then I decided to take the exercise a little further. I wanted to really get at the heart of things, so I dug deep, looking for any tiny source of fear/worry within myself. I wanted to cover every possible avenue, and really, I think what most of us fear the most are pain and death. That really seems to be at the heart of it all. So, I wanted to tackle those too:

7. There’s no need to fear pain. Being no stranger to pain, you know how to handle it. You can go within, deep within yourself, where THE PEARL resides, a peaceful place, like the bottom of a deep lake, with the things of this world nothing but ripples on the surface that cannot reach you. Alternatively, you can leave your body and rise above and beyond the pain. The pain can even be made spiritual, in some ways, a clear reminder of the physical form and it’s parameters (which allows one to grasp the non-physical much more clearly, since the opposite of a thing inherently clarifies a thing by showing what it is not). We’ve all felt pain. And we’ve all conquered it. Remember, you have that strength within you, that WARRIOR ENERGY, that you can always call upon again. The pain will not overwhelm you; it will not destroy you; and at some point, it will subside.

8. Even death is nothing, merely a new adventure, wherein perhaps you’ll finally find some answers.

I know, I know, that last one is a gross oversimplification, and of course everyone will probably always have some anxiety surrounding their own death, but it was thrown onto my list that day because I wanted to cover all aspects of my own negative emotion, giving myself absolutely no reason not to feel joyful.

As I typed this, I realize that I did not deal with the concept of loss, probably because this has only begun to weigh heavily on me very recently. I have a deep fear of loss, and find it’s sometimes difficult to appreciate things while I have them, because I’m so worried and upset at the prospect of losing them (mostly people, but others things too, pets, my youth and beauty, my home, etc.) Nabokov makes an excellent point though, in one of his books. He says something along the lines of “Everything I really need, I always carry within me. Nothing real can ever truly be lost.” This is coming from a guy who lost everything. He was 17 years old, had just inherited a mansion and sprawling estate, fallen in love, written his first poems. And overnight, all was lost. He had to give up his happy life, his wealth, his beloved homeland. Not long after, his father, who he was very close to, was murdered by a man who was trying to kill someone else. If Nabokov can overcome loss, then I’d say we probably all can. And he’s right- what’s real, the stuff that really matters, is always with us anyway. Like memories of Nannan and Poppop- we will always carry them with us. They can never really be lost.

Okay, my beautiful beings of light and love, that is all for right now. More to come soon. I ordered two books from Amazon last week, that I can’t wait to share with you-

“A Religion of One’s Own,” by Thomas Moore

and

“The Empath’s Survival Guide” (can’t remember who it was by, but will post about it later)

Lots of light, and all my love, go out to you.

[idolizerp]

[ LOADING INFORMATION ON IMPERIAL’S LEAD VOCAL SANHA…. ]

DETAILS

CURRENT AGE: 24 DEBUT AGE: 19 SKILL POINTS: 12 VOCAL | 10 DANCE | 00 RAP | 13 PERFORMANCE SECONDARY SKILLS: Acting

INTERVIEW

99 entertainment were clueless. at least, they were in the beginning, before they had him.

they scouted trainees that fit every mold – devilish, angelic, sexy, cute; the only benchmark was fresh meat. fresh meat that could sing, dance, rap. do it all and do it well, that may as well have been the tagline for auditions. and yet, sanha still didn’t even come close to meeting expectations.

where they wanted soft, he was hard; where they wanted hard, he was soft. sanha expected a stamp of failure, more trouble than he was worth, but he got lucky. had had something 99 wanted, something not so quantifiable. something ’ a little extra, ’ as a staff member once said to him, while he stood there, angry and resentful and not at all wanting to fit the mold; ’ you have something a little extra, something special. ’

potential, maybe.

it took years upon years, of training and teaching and sculpting; of scrutiny and survival shows and debuting before jung sanha became imperial’s sanha. it took long enough that he was ready to quit, more than once. it was hard, holding himself back, trying to be the idol sanha, rather than regular sanha. the perfect man versus the normal boy. 

sanha was all too aware that perfection, ever fickle, was constantly out of reach. sometimes he got close, maybe. to the kind of perfect 99 wanted at that moment, the kind that made him honey to the vultures masquerading as flies as they circled above. every setback meant sanha had to be more perfect, more of the idol worthy of fanaticism, more lovable and loving.

‘ umchinah, ’ they called him. a quick, little buzzword, encompassing sanha’s personhood for the company, for the masses.

it made him preen, in private, in the places where he kept his sharp tongue and dark gaze, his anger and his boisterousness, his pride, his lust, his greed, his gluttony. his everything that was too-much. under the limelight he was a smiling face, eyes upturned into crescent moons, smile shining brighter than the flashes of cameras. the people grew to want him, would always want him because that’s who he was, that was his goal. they wanted to befriend him, to date him, to introduce him to their parents. he wasn’t some unattainable prince, but the boy next door, the neighborhood hyung, the good man, reliable and resilient. he drew people in, with practiced ease, with expressions performed in practice rooms a million times.

sanha was supposed to be someone the audience trusted, implicitly.

BIOGRAPHY

one. looking back on it, sanha’s not really surprised at all with how he turned out, or over his priorities.

his home was always loud when he was a child. even now, really. loud in the way that there was always shouting, always some sort of fight or argument taking place. his father had a temper, one his mother hated. one his mother always seemed to match, unbeknownst to her. they would scream – at each other. at him, when they needed to relieve the stress from each other. at his brother, when he yelled back, so used to the behavior that exploding seemed the only way to cope.

it was fine. normal. normal family, normal people.

normal in the way his parents were – are – traditional, almost painfully so. they wanted him to get a nice job: doctor, lawyer, salaryman. something respectable, something for his mother to brag about to the neighborhood aunties, something for his father to bring up at company dinners, piss-drunk and in some half-assed parenting competition with his colleague.

they were traditional in the way that duty and honor, being a filial son, came before nearly all else. sanha was expected to uphold those values, had it drilled into him until the only thoughts he could think were those of sprouting wings to fly away upon.

they were traditional in the way that they wholeheartedly disapproved of skinship, of friendships too-close with girls, romantic interest in boys not even a blip on the radar. it didn’t help that his mother found his confession letter to the pretty girl in his class when he was ten. he was lectured for hours. ’ you kids nowadays, you’re too free.‘ as if that had made any sense.

sanha most definitely did not feel free.

he doesn’t realize until he’s much, much older that this isn't normal. that parents that seem to truly hate each other and themselves and their kids wasn’t normal. still, even after the realization, sanha doesn’t care that much. doesn’t mind. bitterness may still sit heavy on his tongue, regrets and resentment piling up in side by side, but this too, seemed normal. his parents could have been far worse, they did the best with what they had; for the most part, sanha was happy. content. average.

two. the first time he realized he was poor was soon after entering high school.

appearances become something like a competition. if you fall behind, you’re left behind. sanha isn’t the type to willingly be outcast – he’d much rather be the center of attention, has always loved being fawned over, sought after.

he wants a new backpack, the kind that everyone’s getting. you’re only somebody if you have that backpack, those shoes, that wallet – they’re old enough now that all these things matter, so terribly much.

it causes a huge fight, his father getting up from the table with dinner left unfinished. his mother’s gaze on him is heavy, like rocks tied to his ankles, letting him sink in frigid, rough waters. sanha has a lump in his throat, angry, hot tears threatening to gather in his eyes. he didn’t do anything wrong.

they don’t get him the backpack. in all his teenage angst, he harbors that perceived slight close, lets it grow into a grudge.

from then on it becomes painfully obvious, really. the shouting he had usually ignored as meaningless words take on more form, spelling out financial troubles. the cause for the strain between his parents. they would attack each other, him, his brother, ruthlessly in anger out of not having enough. out of anger at wanting more.

and sanha always, always wanted more, couldn’t help himself, felt greed fester deep in his gut. not awfully surprising when money was such a priority in his household.

three. sanha wasn’t talented at school, wasn’t anywhere near a genius, all of sixteen and exhausted already; he skips school one day with his friends, goes all the way up to seoul, looking for trouble.

he doesn’t actually find any, according to himself. it depends on who you ask.

his friends see the poster calling for auditions before he does, cause a ruckus over it. maybe if we go, we’ll get to see heaven! sanha had rolled his eyes, but they’d nudged him into it, with something as simple as a dare, his pride refusing to wuss out of it. appearances, appearances.

it’s not like it’s a bad fit. sanha has some raw talent, a little rough, a little stumbled and awkward, but it’s there. he doesn’t compare much to the perfectly styled boys that have obviously done this before, or those that seem to be born with god given abilities to awe and delight, but he’s not nothing. besides, the spotlight seemed to be made for sanha, who knew how to attract attention wherever he went from a young age.

praise was like an addiction, really, and sanha was in too deep.

he’s shocked when he makes it through. standing there, mouth agape, when he’s called back for a second round of auditions. then the notice comes that 99 entertainment wanted to sign him. it makes him ecstatic, if only for the reason that he’s the only one in his group of friends to get so far. they wanted him, he had something to aspire to, it was strange and electric and mind-numbing, a rollercoaster he wanted to ride over and over.

moving to seoul, with his busan accent thick and devil-may-care attitude seems like all fun and games in the beginning. it’s beaten out of him, pretty quickly, through rigorous schedules and diets and criticism. nothing about him is enough, all over again. in a sea of faces trying so damn hard, he’s nothing special, nobody.

it pushes him, motivates him, something finally latching on, under his skin, and shoving him forward.

especially when poizn is formed, debuted, with him still struggling to keep his head above the water. jealousy grows ugly and strong inside his chest, behind his ribs, in equal parts with wonderment. he wants it all for himself and the knowledge that maybe, yes, one day, it’s nearly overwhelming.

four. the first time he’s thrown in front of a national audience isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be.

it’s what he’s been looking forward to, but not like this.

sanha’s pissed off, more than anything else. part of him might also be a little cocky, false bravado, because he knows he’ll do well. still, he’s already fighting for his spot, doing it on camera, coming up with some sob story so he’s not overlooked, it’s not the method he would have preferred.

he’s been a trainee longer than a lot of these other chumps, he works harder, sounds better, performs better but then there are the ones that are inherently better than him, their sheer ability making a mockery of him, laughing at him in dark corners.

maybe the resentment and competition gets to his head a little bit. he excels, because the producers play favorites, just a little, and he’s a good brown-noser. but he's mean. he acknowledges, only in hindsight. when it’s already too late to fix anything; sanha wouldn’t even know how, not willing to jeopardize his place. he uses sharp words, privileges from seniority, throws others off their game so he’ll be able to advance farther than them. it’s not fair or right but deep down, sanha is scared, and lashes out in the way that feels most natural. he’ll let himself feel guilty afterward, after they win, after he reaches the goal that’s been fixated in his mind for years: debut.

five. somehow, idol life is even more unstable than trainee life.

the schedules get worse, sleep doesn’t seem real, and the constant fear of failure, of disbanding, has sanha sneaking off to the toilet to spill his guts. it’s terrifying, but a distant type of terrifying, dull through the rush of time, speeding past them so quickly that he can’t seem to remember the days.

it dawns on him, quickly, that 99 don’t plan through thoroughly, that they’re just throwing imperial, them, imperial, into the deep end without a lifeguard. between the rush of filming and photoshoots and variety shows and music shows, all sanha gets to feel is bone-deep exhaustion and the ever-present stickiness on his skin, weighing him down and asking, what if you’re not enough?

he struggles to wade in these waters. he’s not stupid, knows his vocal abilities pale in comparison to the other two vocalists, even if he tries to force himself to shine on stage. he sees the comments. the lack of a dedicated fanbase. for a long time, sanha works off of desperation and fear alone.

six. sanha doesn’t know when it is that this starts to become his new normal.

he doesn’t know when his bones shift and his skin stretches until it’s enveloping this new person, this new persona, until it’s almost like this is who he was all along.

one day he just wakes up and it all feels right. not perfect, never perfect, perfection just barely escaping his fingers every time he gets close. but he likes it, likes himself, is confident and centered and self-aware enough to know he’s improving.

it’s nice.

seven. leaving never felt like a real option, even if the thought had squirmed into his head before, had popped up for all of them.

the rest of them didn’t actually leave.

first, it’s anger. he feels betrayed. how can they just give up and quit? what will that mean for the group going forward? imperial was supposed to be the fix-all, they were supposed to be the untainted ones. this? this was something expected of poizn, not them.

that pristine image they worked so hard for, it all goes down the drain so quickly.

then, the anger multiplies, when they’re benched. the blow of a member leaving apparently hard enough that 99 doesn’t schedule a comeback for them for years. the stability sanha had reached shatters so easily, the fear of the early days threatening to rear its ugly head, if not for his acquired willpower, strict and strong in the face of adversity even when inwardly he quakes.

but after all that, after months of languishing and doing nothing, comes some hope. there’s always a silver lining and here, sanha finds opportunity. he goes to vocal lessons as often as he can, practices nonstop, sometimes it feels like he’s doing more, putting in more effort, than he did as a trainee. after having a taste of idol life, he’s not eager to give it back, wants more, more, always more, and now, he can have it.

he always stood in the shadows of the two other vocalists, but now he can step up. take over the spot that had been so graciously vacated.

eight. sanha may have been ready, formed into an ever-changing, even newer version of himself, but 99 was not.

the inactivity stretches longer and longer. their imps begin questioning what’s happening, there’s restlessness abound. but nothing can be done. sanha starts looking to other avenues. singing, perform, it became a passion for him, it didn’t start out that way. there was no reason acting couldn’t be the same.

he starts in something small, a goofy side character. he gives an okay performance but the drama flops and he isn’t taken seriously. he knows, before he even reads the critics, that this was a mistake. it takes begging and grovelling to convince his manager to try out something different, something more serious, something that will put sanha through the paces.

that exhaustion that comes with hard work, that strain to try and achieve a little bit of a somewhat-perfect, he’s come to like that feeling, nearly as much as the attention alone.

the desperation he displays works, as it always does. his manager finagles something nice for him. still supporting, he knows that’s where he’ll be for a long, long time, but serious, grounded, something that requires skill. he goes to acting classes when he can, asks for pointers from the pds, his fellow actors, he does everything he can think of, fueled not by jealousy, maybe a little by greed, but a lot by the want of having something that’s his own.

it pays off.

nine.

having a comeback, the reception, the popularity, the explosion; sanha had forgotten what it felt like, if he was being honest. it makes his heart race, a million miles per minute as he strains to perform at his best level.

it takes so much out of him but he loves it, loves it so deeply he can’t ever imagine letting go.

the criticisms still bother him, 99 still bothers him, at times he thinks – they still don’t really know what they’re doing, they’re still not doing right by them. they’re more than a fallback plan but only treated as such. he tries to let it wash off his shoulders, even with the quick preparation and the scandals of their predecessors hanging over his head.

he loves it so much, performing, but hates the hoops he has to jump through, the play he has to put on, to get here. 

it’s cruel irony, but it makes him laugh. he’s grown so much but still stuck in the same spot: trapped under the guise of duty, aching for escape and success in equal measures, clipped wings and all.