#clearly I was in a festive mood on Christmas Eve 2016

[murnswhyte]

I Could Decompose

Oh, bring me to the water’s edge

And lay me down beside

The Earth delights in harmonies

We never recognize.

To think the land is vacant or

The sunrise blinds the eyes-

A travesty of horrors when

You fully realize.

The dirt, good earth, it comforts me

The air is crisp and light.

In meadow and on sandy shore

You can see it all is right.

Unpublished Works

Seppie

December 24, 2016

[kjack89]

Christmas Wish

Modern AU, E/R, established relationship, misunderstandings with a happy ending. Because sometimes you have to make your own entirely self-indulgent Christmas present :)

“A young boy has just come running out of the park...Let me see if I can get a comment...Did you see anything?”

“It's the real Santa! His sleigh can't fly cause nobody believes in him!”

“Now, this is feeling more and more like some kind of elaborate Christmas hoax.”

“Typical,” Combeferre said dismissively over the sound of Elf playing from the TV in Courfeyrac’s living room as all of Les Amis lounged around, ostensibly watching the film, which was one of their holiday traditions. “The mainstream media agenda at work, propping up a capitalist system by decreasing belief in Santa Claus.”

Grantaire snorted and shifted from where he was lying on the couch, his feet propped up on Bossuet and his head resting in Enjolras’s lap. “I realize that you deny nothing, which apparently extends to Santa Claus, but I don’t think you can dismiss lack of belief in the Big Guy as a media coverup.”

“Besides, all you need is to call it the ‘lamestream’ media and you’ll sound more like a QAnon supporter than anything else,” Jehan added blithely, ignoring the wounded noise that Combeferre made at the insinuation.

“You take that back—” he started, but Courfeyrac elbowed him.

“Shh,” he scolded, “I’m trying to watch.”

Combeferre rubbed his ribs and grimaced. “Right, because we haven’t seen this movie a hundred times before,” he muttered.

Courfeyrac ignored him as the kid in the movie flipped through Santa’s book. 

“What’s your name?”

“I’m Charlotte Dennon, New York 1.”

“Lemme see...Charlotte Dennon wants a ‘Tiffany engagement ring, and for your boyfriend to stop dragging his feet and commit already’!”

Courfeyrac cackled and for some reason twisted around to smirk at Grantaire. “Looks like the film writers cribbed from Grantaire’s Christmas list for that one,” he teased.

Most of the other Amis laughed at that, though Enjolras frowned, his hand stilling from where he had been running it through Grantaire’s hair. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, and Grantaire squirmed, trying to get Enjolras to resume stroking his hair.

Courfeyrac arched an eyebrow at him. “It means that you and Grantaire have been dating for, what, five years now?” he said, as if the answer were obvious. 

“Off and on,” Enjolras said, feeling defensive even if he wasn’t entirely sure why.

“Right, so five years of dating, and you’ve been living together for two years now…” Courfeyrac trailed off and Enjolras just stared blankly at him. “Do I really need to spell it out for you?”

“Leave it alone,” Joly said, a little sharply. “Not everyone wants to be married and live in the suburbs with two point five kids, a dog, and a white picket fence.”

“Though to be fair, there is nothing wrong with wanting that,” Cosette piped up, patting Marius’s hand loyally.

Marius glanced at her. “Is the point five part of the kids negotiable at least?”

Bahorel cleared his throat. “Can we please,” he started, an unspoken threat clear in every word, “go back to watching the damn movie?”

Everyone fell silent, all remembering far too well the Sound of Music fist fight of 2016, where Bahorel took Jehan’s then-boyfriend outside to beat him up for mocking the movie. The rest of the movie passed in relative silence, and once it was over, everyone took their leave. 

“Merry Christmas Eve Eve,” Courfeyrac said as he held the door open for Enjolras and Grantaire. Combeferre cleared his throat pointedly from behind him and Courfeyrac reluctantly added, “And, uh, sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Grantaire said easily, giving Courfeyrac a one-armed hug before he and Enjolras left.

But Enjolras was not so quick to forget, and he was silent as they walked towards their place, the chilly December night lending itself better to walking than waiting for an Uber. After the silence between them had stretched for several minutes, Enjolras glanced over at Grantaire, who sighed. “Don’t,” he said warningly, and Enjolras scowled.

“Don’t what?” he asked defensively.

“Don’t even start.”

Enjolras’s scowl deepened. “I have no idea—”

Grantaire raised an eyebrow at him. “You weren’t going to bring up what Courfeyrac said?” he asked pointedly.

“No,” Enjolras said immediately, and when Grantaire just gave him a look, he sighed and amended, “Ok, yes, I was, but—”

“But Courfeyrac has a shitty sense of humor sometimes,” Grantaire interrupted with forced levity. “That doesn’t mean we need to ruin our Christmas Eve Eve by indulging his idiotic fantasies.”

Enjolras glanced at his watch. “Technically, it’s now actually Christmas Eve.”

“And that’s not the point.”

Enjolras made a face. “No, it’s not,” he agreed, hesitating before giving Grantaire a sideways glance. “And you’re not normally that rude about our friends. At least, not behind their backs. You’re plenty rude to their faces.”

Grantaire didn’t quite meet Enjolras’s eyes. “Yeah, well, our friends normally know better than to stir up things that they shouldn’t,” he muttered.

Enjolras seized the opportunity. “Since it has been stirred up—” he started, and Grantaire snorted.

“Hell of a segue.”

“—I think it’s something we should talk about,” Enjolras finished doggedly.

Grantaire groaned. “Must we?”

Enjolras gave him a look. “Is there a reason you don’t want to?”

“Answering a question with a question,” Grantaire said sourly. “That’s a neat trick.”

Enjolras nudged him. “So is deflection.”

Grantaire sighed. “Fine. The reason I don’t want to is because it’s Christmas. And we’re supposed to be, y’know, holly jolly and shit.”

“Holly jolly and shit,” Enjolras repeated, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. “Well that certainly captures the festive mood.”

But Grantaire didn’t seem amused. “You know what I mean.”

“So why do you think talking about this will ruin the holly jolly mood you’ve clearly gone to great lengths to cultivate?” Enjolras asked mildly.

“Because I don’t think this conversation is going to have the outcome you’re hoping for.”

Grantaire delivered the words bluntly, but Enjolras didn’t flinch. “Because you want us to get married and I don’t,” he guessed, less a question than a statement.

To his surprise, Grantaire barked a laugh. “No,” he said, with actual amusement, “quite the opposite.”

Enjolras stopped in his tracks. “Wait, you don’t want to get married?” he asked, a little stupidly.

“Absolutely not.”

Enjolras hesitated. “Like, you don’t want to get married to me, or you don’t want to get married at all?”

It was Grantaire’s turn to stop in his tracks, turning to face Enjolras, something urgent in his expression. “I love you.”

Enjolras looked warily at him. “I know, and I love you, too. But why—”

Grantaire shook his head. “I just don’t want you to go into this conversation that you insist on having with any kind of doubt in your mind about that.”

Enjolras’s expression softened. “I never would doubt that,” he said, tugging Grantaire close and pressing a kiss to his temple. “So you love me, and I love you, and like Courfeyrac said, we’ve been dating for years, living together for years...isn’t marriage the next logical step?”

“For some people, sure,” Grantaire said with a shrug. “But that doesn’t mean it needs to be for us.”

“Because you don’t want to get married.”

Grantaire arched an eyebrow. “Are you telling me that you do want to get married?”

“No,” Enjolras said, a little too quickly, and he winced. “I mean, not because of you. If I were to marry anyone, it would be you. I’m just...not big on the institution of marriage, the perpetuation of the patriarchy, certain segments of the gay community acting like marriage equality was the end of the fight for equal rights…” He trailed off. “But you know all of that.”

“I sure do.”

Enjolras frowned slightly. “So is that why you don’t want to get married? Because you think I don’t want to?”

Again Grantaire laughed, and again, it took Enjolras by surprise. “Enjolras, believe me, if I wanted to be married to you, we’d be married, whether you wanted to or not.”

Enjolras stared at him. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“I mean that you’re historically terrible at denying me something that you think I really want,” Grantaire said easily. “Which is probably a consent issue that we should discuss more some time, but that’s not really the point.”

It wasn’t, so Enjolras didn’t press it. “So you really just don’t want to marry me?”

“Not so much, no,” Grantaire agreed.

“But...this is – this is a forever thing for me,” Enjolras said, before hesitating. “You know that, right?”

“Of course,” Grantaire said instantly.

“And don’t you want this forever too?”

Grantaire grinned at him. “There is absolutely nothing I want more.”

“Then why…?”

Grantaire sighed and looked away. “This is why I didn’t want to talk about this at Christmas,” he said. “Total mood killer.” Enjolras didn’t smile and Grantaire sighed again. “I don’t want to be married to you because if we were married, you would never divorce me, or walk away, no matter how much you might want to.”

“I—” Enjolras started, but he couldn’t seem to find any words to say to that.

Grantaire arched an eyebrow. “Am I wrong?”

As much as Enjolras wanted to tell him that he was, he knew better than to try. “No.”

Grantaire nodded. “Because when you make a promise, you keep it. It’s just who you are.” His tone turned fond. “Too damned stubborn to admit defeat, no matter how much you should.”

Enjolras frowned. “Ok, but again, isn’t that what you want?”

“No.”

“I don’t understand.”

Grantaire cocked his head slightly. “You think that I would want you locked into a marriage, which is an institution you don’t even believe in, just so that you could never leave me?”

“I—” Enjolras broke off, flustered. “Honestly, I’m not sure how to answer that.”

“Wise man. I don’t want you to be with me because you have to be with me. I want to know that you are with me because you want to be, not because you made some arbitrary vow.” Enjolras opened his mouth to interrupt but Grantaire didn’t let him. “I want to wake up every day in your arms and know without a question of a doubt that you could walk away any time you wanted, but that you choose to stay. That’s what I want. And I’d like to think that’s what you want, too.”

For a long moment, Enjolras was silent, staring at Grantaire as if he’d never quite seen him before. “Well,” he finally managed around the lump in his throat, “when you put it like that...”

He didn’t even bother trying to finish his sentence, just cupping Grantaire’s cheek with one mittened hand and kissing him deeply. Grantaire returned the kiss with equal enthusiasm, balling his hands in Enjolras’s red coat.

They stayed that way for a long time, long enough that when they pulled away from each other, they both immediately looked up at the sky. “Is that snow?” Enjolras asked stupidly.

But Grantaire just laughed, and Enjolras smiled at him. “What?” he asked.

“We are kissing in the snow on Christmas Eve,” Grantaire said, grinning up at the flakes swirling from the sky. “If this were a very different story, you’d get down on one knee right now and ask me to marry you, and we’d have a happily ever after for Christmas straight out of a Hallmark movie.”

“If Hallmark wasn’t a bunch of homophobic cowards, anyway,” Enjolras grumbled good naturedly.

Grantaire just laughed and shook his head. “You know what I mean.”

“I do,” Enjolras said, grinning, and without warning, he took a step back from Grantaire before kneeling down on one knee. “And you’ve just given me an idea.”

“What are you doing?” Grantaire asked, staring at him. “Did you seriously just not listen to a word I said, or…?”

“Grantaire,” Enjolras said, “I absolutely listened to everything you’ve said, because I love listening to you talk. I love everything about you. You don’t want to get married. I don’t want to get married. And I know better than to make a promise to you, even if you deserve all the promises in the world. But it is Christmas, and it’s snowing, and I love you more than anyone in the world. So Grantaire, I have to ask – will you not marry me?”

“You are such a fucking dork,” Grantaire said, exasperatedly. “Of course I will not marry you.”

“Good,” Enjolras said, satisfied, and he stood up, kissing Grantaire once more before taking his hand. :Now let’s go home. I want to make love to the love of my life.:

“Romantic,” Grantaire said with a snort, but he was grinning.

“Whom I will never marry,” Enjolras added.

“You sure know how to woo a boy,” Grantaire said wryly, still grinning, and he leaned in and kissed Enjolras’s cheek. “Merry Christmas, Enjolras.”

Enjolras wrapped his arm around Grantaire’s waist, turning to kiss Grantaire lightly on top of his head. “Merry Christmas, Grantaire,” he whispered.

[sole-cuore-amore-e-droga]

Tel Aviv 2019: Straight outta Albania to Eurovision with ethno beats

Sorry to be late to start all this, but you know, Albanians love doing their show around the Christmas period - whether before or after. xD So after this show, I was rather engulfed in Christmas and stuff, packing the gifs for every family member, putting them under the tree and waking up to see their (belated) reactions to their own gifts. Oh, and a festive dinner on the Eve. (And now it's been less than 1 and a half months since the end of this!)

But enough about that, you guys are here for my honest review, right?

Right.

I, for one, am a true fan of the ridiculous runtime of Festivali i Këngës në Radiotelevizion Shqiptar (and how the full lenght title is pronounced with the broadcaster’s name included every other single time), and that's because it allows me to discuss every single detail that I see, that goes wrong, that's just plain hilarious, and printscreen those said things. Among all these weird sights that can be seen during the interval acts and advertisements there's at least one instance of somebody in the show being such a "mood". Just like the broadcaster's current higher up for all things Eurovision at home (i.e.: commentator, spokesperson and occasional conversator), Andri Xhahu:

“mmhmm sure, keep on telling how much you love all the acts while I pretend I care, but in fact I’d rather just go home and eat something real quick”

Trust me, everyone in this show is a master of not giving a single damn. Artists, backings, instrumentalists, interval acts even maybe? All kinds of people in Albania are just mediocred out by things happening in FiK, thus nothing is remotely surprising!

Well, except for the results this year. Sure, everyone had their little outrage on social media the very time it was revealed that the international public’s darling Mirud did not impress the FiK jurors enough to qualify, but others were simply rejoicing that at least another big fave qualified - and to the fans’ dy shokë, a favourite won once again! And this one is an artsy, mid-tempo call to all of the abroad Albanians to “return to the land”, provided by the one and only, Jonida Maliqi.

And so you thought a big FiK favourite wouldn’t manage to win 2 years in a row... let alone reach Eurovision. It was nearly a given FiK juries could rather have had their traditional FiK-ness when picking the winner and that it would have become Lidia Lufi or even one of those old people, one of them being THE CONDUCTOR OF THE WHOLE SHOW (and if he was not qualifying, he’d probably have been ultra upset and leave his position from FiK’s orchestra that he has now observed every year since idk), so it’s refreshing to see Albania take on some new winds - last year with Eugent Bushpepa, this year with Jonida. Not that she was a big favourite of mine though, but you know, “Mall” was so incredibly difficult to top standart-wise that I actually didn’t really mind letting go of the songs by Dilan Reka, Klinti Çollaku and Alar Band (and 3 more nonqualifiers) emotionally. I mean, with the competition this incredibly improving in competence and easy good winners, it was a given that none of these would have even come close to reach a stellar placing in the final leaderboard of FiK. And yes, I consider my taste incredibly out of fashion with what everyone wants. Thank you for noticing.

When I first heard this, I didn’t really have a great impression on this track - the 1st verse/chorus and the 2nd verse/chorus have an extreeeeemely long gap between each other, which bothered me. Shouldn’t the song have some short enough gateway to pass the point across easier? The second thing is that it’s a little too slow. Not long after she won I became acquainted with the song’s Nightcore versions (yep! 2 of them exist apparently), and going back to he studio version of this, the slowness of it put me off. But on later listens I managed to appreciate its better qualities - the song is intense, tackles a decent topic (which will probably be underlooked if the staging does not account for it clearly enough - looking at you France 2018), the folksy interlude is too precious to be gotten rid off for the upcoming revamp (I just think it needed to be placed elsewhere... until I realized it is in an alright position songwise), the backing vocals at the last few seconds add some charm to the song, and at least there are some vocalisations! Juries obviously love it when an act tests their high vocal abilities, and often great notes don’t go too unnoticed by them. Remember why was Eugent’s performance so loved by the juries - if he haven’t done THAT, nothing would have given him a final ticket in the first place.

So that means that the first time viewers at home have a hefty fine chance to also not get what’s happening, right? Unless the music gets drastically devamped (like in 2016) and the performance is too heavy to connect with this song, it is probably going to do alright. The 2nd night performances this FiK were all devoted to the idea of preparing the acts for Eurovision in an unavoidable case of one of them winning. And Jonida’s performance uses rather cartoonish (but decent cartoonish) city-at-night shots in the background (with street lamps, traffic lights, maybe a bridge and the rest) and several random dancers too, which you can see for yourselves below:

(I’d like to inform her though that constantly interchanging street motives on the background aren’t a very good addition - Latvia 2009 went with all-round street and city signs and that didn’t work, and the 2009 stage was HUGE! Also maybe the dress is a little too extravagant for the topic of the song but that’s a nitpick. Sorry about it)

And even though it’s just 1 song (and the reason the top 1s keep poping up right after FiK is over - a common practice even among very small Eurovision fan Youtube channels) (edit: now we have 4 songs at the point of me finishing this but still), I do believe that already writing it off is harsh. Obviously the Albanian revamp curse is going to take place, but sometimes it comes to a complete advantage if the artist knows what he or she is doing and how to turn everything to their strenght rather than weakness. Eugent just happened to do more impressive vocal heights than Lindita. And Eugent didn’t even need to wear something too extra unlike Lindita, which for some reason was having to deal with a bridal attire..? not a really suitable wear for a song about world problems, yanno what I mean?? So it’s for the better if Jonida’s team doesn’t have to harm the song all too much, choose a connecting staging, do something piercing about it, don’t make Jonida look like a clown on stage, and generally don’t let her come across as too weird and cold-hearted. She should be seen pouring her heart out and let the world know that she’s talking to the Albanians (and hopefully even Kosovars) ‘round the world - to all the Ritas, to all the Duas, to all the Bebes.

Approval factor: I didn’t say I hate it so I approve it wholeheartedly! Yes I like.

Follow-up factor: in my sole opinion I would still find “Mall” way better but this current entry is good enough also, so it’s obviously a fair enough follow-up after the previous and the rest past entries for Albania.

Qualification factor: somewhere in the middle of things right now, if only Jonida’s capable of making everythhing against her work in her favour and shock the naysayers like Eugent did post-revamp that looked like it killed his chances

NATIONAL FINAL BONUS

If you don’t want to read any more of my review from this point on, just simply leave this post, thanks!

But if, however, you do want to read these post-ramblings, pls b mah frien.

So did we have Fest 57 through and it always delivered a fiesta of too many ads and too many intervals. Like you could have sworn that this show should have ended 5 years earlier than initially planned. Yet you wake up and find it still going, but more in the post-show form, with the jury still continuing to blabber about what exactly do they like in a contestant’s song for some reason. And then, when you least expect anything to happen - they mention “lista finale”! Ahh what a miracle.

Anyway, in this segment I’m here to highlight some special things that have happened:

• The puppetmaster from Night 2. No one knew what was that for, no one knew why was it needed, no one knew if it was even a little bit funny. But this Francesca Michielin’s auntie delivered a bunch of stuffed ‘humans’ to show around in front of the camera and stage something out of them. And the world was s h o o k

• Sound problems. One contestants had quiet mics at the beginning of the song (and this is FiK, which means that the poor acts WILL get a definite repeat of their entry, even if they had said their word against it. Sorry Miss Põldvere...), and another act got away with the entirety of it being completely not tuned in correctly soundwise, thus sounding completely all reverb-y and at one point even the mic feed for the backings was louder than the vocals of the artist. Hilariously enough, the both reprised acts won an award!

• Speaking of which, everyone thought that the first award of the night was actually the winner announcement. Even me. Oh how much we were falsely alarmed on this particular thing... xD

• Obviously the results. I honestly don’t think that Mirud’s nonqualification is such a mystery, despite the fact that as of lately the FiK juries are down for uplifting the audience faves. But I saw something that could have turned his song into something unbearably weak and nondescript, despite his pain and heart streamed out in bold colors through the song, considering this is the country that revamps their entries a lot. It could have been, and I’m dreading to say this but I am gonna say it anyway, a meaningless R’n’B ballad trying to show something, but projecting it too weakly. Of course I liked it, but I wouldn’t have pointed at it saying; “that right there, it’s definitely a contender”. But I definitely felt sorry for him and his song. Look what I messaged him:

• Dilan Reka’s quality stepdown. Look, I didn’t even listen to “Mos harro” as of yet, but I can definitely feel that “Karma” is some sort of a sub-par standart entry everyone gave hard time for because it wasn’t as likeable as “Mos harro”, which could have been the beginner of the good Albanian streak I suppose had it won the NF over Lindita? Or at least that’s what the fans think. Anyways, I liked “Karma” and I don’t ever want to stop defending its fun factor. The only thing not worth defending in this is Dilan’s styling:

No but WHO TOLD HIM YELLOW SUNGLASSES AND THIS SUIT WERE A GOOD IDEA???? leave.

• The girl who sang "Hallelujah" during a results break (there were several of these, can you believe that?). That was presumably Ana Kondra (you know, the one that advised to not touch her tree two years back? In JESC?) presumably singing in a personally warped take on English language, if not the actual English.

• Somewhere in the world there was hype-a-comin’ for these two: the cheap beats queen Soni Malaj and the retro hipster queen Orgesa Zaimi. While I can’t say I disliked their songs legit, it beats me as to what is attracting people to support the latter a lot, considering Orgesa submitted a bit of a huge stepdown from the cheerful “Ngrije zërin“. She at least retained her hipster attire though, even if without those French sunglasses. Oh and as for Soni, I gotta commend the Eurofan audience for still giving in some cheap Balkan pop trash! Though for country like Albania, it was never gonna win anyways. And I wasn’t hyped either. Seriously, who thought that adding some extra confused guys spout “bum bum bum” at the beginning was remotely GOOD??

Think I noted all momentswise. May I add that I’m glad to hear Jonida was allowed to sing in Albanian by RTSH (who apparently DECIDE what kind of language is more fitting for their own entry once it’s decided it’s ready for Eurovision???? I feel you, Elhaida’s composer from FiK 2014, if I had to face these rules, I’d have quit too)? It definitely takes this song up for advantage, and who cares if no one can understand it - we still have had an Albanian song about personal matters qualify, plus it was performed live on such an unfortunate occasion back at home so the power had to be extremely maxed out for that to work, and it did.

And one last thing: I did only watch the final of this, and the first time I heard this performed live, I was lowkey convinced this would indeed win because the orchestra made it sound like a stereotypical FiK winner - dramatic female ballad/midtempo/whatever having this dramatic power in chorus with all of the instruments blown right onto it. Not even the rest of the top 3 and other ballads this year were this much instrumentally packed. So there goes.