#everyone should have me on their fantasy blunt rotation

[sassyminnesotan]

Any pre-smartphone futuristic media that predicted people having little personal pocket computer devices got thing wrong: not one of them predicted how easy it to loose track of that fucking thing. It’s like the unholy combination of loosing your keys and loosing your writing utensil: you JUST had it a second ago, you carry it all the time, you can’t remember where you set it down, apparently you didn’t put it in your pocket this time, where the FUCK could it have possibly gone

[wuxiaphoenix]

On Writing: A Problem of Humanity

I ran across a Kindle sample of a fantasy that seemed well-written, and had an interesting if currently common setup. That of the System Apocalypse, some outside force game-ifiying Earth, leading to monsters, dungeons, and people leveling up with character classes.

Skilled writing, and yet it rang false with me, enough that I dumped the sample with a feeling of distinct distaste. And not just because the guy decided the hostile creatures trying to kill him were edible, and put them on his menu in place of boar, even though they are sentient enough to talk to him.

I’ve spent a bit of time chewing over exactly why this world rings false. The main character’s living setup seems plausible, if conveniently advantageous. (The writer also seriously overestimates the reliability of solar power, but that’s another level of problem.) The now-intelligent cat is a murderously inclined ball of fuzz, as many cats are. And the main character’s decision to stick put where he is and let other people handle their own problems is rational, if a bit uncaring, especially when the countryside is now swarming with monsters....

Except the book, at least in the sample bit, completely ignores what other humans nearby may be doing. Outside of having one turn up dead and defaced as a crude monster signboard. And that doesn’t make sense.

Long story short: Humans are nosy. The main character’s isolation should have been broken the first day.

Slightly longer version: One of the main problems serious apocalyptic preppers encounter is, how do you keep the neighbors from knowing what you’re doing? How do you keep supplies, security, arms, and other preparations out of sight enough that when awful stuff really does hit the rotating blades, you’re not buried in a swarm of unprepared refugees who assume you’ll take care of them? (Or that you can’t fight them all and they can take what you have to survive today, who cares about tomorrow.)

It is, to be blunt, almost impossible. People talk. People love to talk. They especially love to gossip. If you’re the weird guy living on his own in a farm left to him by an old man who “prepared for everything”, everyone in twenty miles is going to know about it. At least twenty miles.

(The character’s in Europe. If he were in the U.S., I’d say within a hundred miles. That kind of gossip is juicy.)

I find it highly unlikely that everyone inside that radius is incapable of handling the monsters enough to get to a place they know they could fort up. The main character literally slept through the apocalypse. Someone, somewhere, is higher level than he is and knows where his farm is. Or isn’t higher level, but had enough sneakiness and desperation to get there. And they would. Desperate survivors go where they think they can get food and hide. It’s human nature.  

The main character is being written as a “solo survival gamer”, when there should be other humans obviously getting by in the setting. And that... wrecks the whole idea of, “the world has changed and every human has to struggle to survive!” If solo survival is the kind of story the writer found fun, he should have just isekai’d his beast tamer/berserker to some other world’s wilderness and gone from there. Instead he set up a scenario where the reader is expecting cooperative survival (as the book blurb states) and gets a grandstanding lone hero instead.

Don’t pull the rug out from under your readers that way. It makes them not want to buy your books....

[boneslaw]

Basement

Ausland grabbed a knife from the kitchen block. He descended the stairs two at a time. Wood planks creaked like the neurotic swing of a cradle, seconds after the footsteps that threw her head into the table. She panicked, she tried to hide, but there was no hesitation from him. His chest heaved after a half mile sprint. His ribs were on fire. Nettles from the trees hadn't been shaken off his arms, pine needles in his Chucks-

He didn't trust the visions pushed through his head. He wanted to believe that all this faith in her wasn't for nothing. He had to see for himself. Asclepius' warning didn't help. He swung off the handrail, crashing onto the ground floor of his basement. Whatever it was that lurched up his throat, lumpy and burning like bile, was easier to swallow than the body laying there at his feet. “It's not something I want you tangled in..." He told her. Two weeks prior was their six month anniversary. The moment was magical in every sense of the word until it wasn't. It was marred and the culprit was foreshadowing only visible in retrospect. He held onto her that night. His fingers intertwined with hers but his grip was anything but soft. Desperate, he held on like he'd lose her. "It's not something I want for us. Not when we have plans. Trust me. Trust me. Please?" The request was simple. That should have been the end of it. But she didn't call. She didn't ask. She went into the basement. What was a relationship without trust? What was a promise- twice made- if she couldn't keep it? Every blood vessel swollen from its root. Wide-eyed, he prowled over her body. She drew wispy breaths through her bangs. Blood that pooled around her head gave a slight shake like gelatin. Her phone laid cracked to her side, spinning in a slow rotation after her fall. He wanted just one sign that this was an accident. A mistake. That this can end in him sweeping her off the floor, and tending to her wound in the kitchen with a chuckle and a kiss. That stopped being probable when her phone was left unlocked. 9-1... displayed across the screen. His gut sucked in. His abdomen knocked against his spine, as a a convulsive gasp threw him onto the floor. Trust was broken, but he'd made promises to more than her. His opposite hand, one that worshiped her like a Goddess, dug into her hair. He pulled her head from the floor, hand knotted and ready to slam it back through the wood until Mia, his Mia, a self-fulfilling, ingrown parody of Orpheus and Eurydice, soaked through in the floorboards she was never supposed to touch. 'Stop.' Asclepius' said. An amalgamate of flesh and stone towered over them. It had fallen into the backdrop once its grotesque moment in the limelight was over. Ausland didn't pay it mind. Leniency wasn't available when his heart was hammering, when his pleas for her safety and his future had depended on her not doing one thing. Just one thing, the only thing he had ever asked of her. Hesitation nor opposition stopped the swing of the knife- but what pulled the momentum was clarity: his head was blank. There usually was an X. An arc, a graphic connect the dots of where he had to strike to incisively end it. Killing did not come naturally. There was no muscle memory when it wasn't extended. It was always there- but not that he could see. Her face would be cleaved at a slipshod angle. The blade would get jammed in cartilage. She'd wake, screaming and crying, steel between the eyes, and try to say something. He'd listen to a bullshit apology through a sectioned face, split lip weeping an excuse why of he should forgive- He twisted his wrist like he was pulling a rope. His hand wound in her hair so tight it stretched the skin from her skull. He could do it. He could do it. He could ignore Asclepius and finish it, but the fact of the matter set in: Their life was over. She was always on his mind. She was never not on his mind. The last six months was a break from the endless morbid monotony. She was the one. His soulmate. The fixture his future would be sculpted around, the lively ying to the third party in the room. Asclepius had his psyche mired in a warped reality, but the need for normalcy was inherently human. It was inscribed in the bones so deep years under its oppressive power hadn't yet shaken it. His whimpering bordered on incoherence. Asclepius was hardly a sympathetic ear but he had no one else. "She shouldn't be here." He broke. Nose to nose, he pulled her in, openly weeping into her unconscious cheek. The hold he had over her scalp had her eyes open- just a sliver- offering no motive. "Why? Why did you do it? I didn't want you here, Mia, I didn't-" 'Neither did I.' Asclepius said. It's exposed rib cage expanded and deflated slower now that the excitement passed. 'But am I surprised?' "You were right about her..." 'And I wish I wasn't.' His knuckles blanched around the handle. Mia laid as a blondish, pinkish blur at his knees. Motionless, she hadn't moved since he'd arrived- despite how much he wanted her to explain. How much he wanted to scream, to ask why. And how much he wanted to punch a hole through her brain when asking lead to further deception. Hatred and heartbreak were a volatile cocktail his body didn't know how to process. 'She saw the best sides of you and took advantage of it.' Asclepius narrated his thoughts. 'Boston wasn't going to happen. That future she fabricated? A pipe dream. She wanted in your head.' It said. 'And it worked. Because you are compassionate. You're a beautiful soul and she saw the idealist in you, the creative artist- but she's a manipulative parasite who takes and destroys. She was only out to corrupt everything you worked for.' He saw the cabin. The dirt road sprawled through the woods, in a sweeping view until the brush broke onto the asphalt. The highway drew a distinct line between obligation, his past, and everything else life had to offer. The City On The Hill was a fantasy. It was a bustling metropolis where he could pluck a guitar in a different hipster joint every night, singing his heart out to the captive audience of a coffee shop And she was with him. Mia was warmth. She was comfort. She was inside jokes, domestic bliss. She was inspiration, words coming to him easy in the quiet moments were fondness filled his chest cavity like helium. She'd be in the papers. A household name. He'd tell everyone on the street who he was with. He'd sing about her, she'd write about him. They'd be proud, dumb, in love, and they'd build a house together. They'd meld their styles until it produced something so distinctively theirs that they couldn't imagine life any other way. But that fantasy caught flame. Colliding with the Earth, it burned like the Hindenburg, razing along Interstate 93 and following them back to where they were now: her head in his lap, and a knife focused for her temple. Tightly wound tendons in his fingers ached. Curls wound in his palm shook loose. His grip slipped as he trembled but he couldn't hit her if he tried. "I could've run away with her. I could've ruined everything." 'Drop the knife.' "What if I had gone? What would she have done?" He swallowed, though his throat felt like ash. "You said that's what'd happen, you've been right the whole time-" 'Did you think that's what this was about? Do you think this is vindicating? Look at me.' His head- eyes red, and ringed with guilt- lifted. When he blinked back the tears, its eye focused on him. It rolled into the stone web of petrified fingers to meet his gaze. It's pupil narrowed to a pinprick. It was sympathetic, when everything human deceived. 'When you said you loved her more than me- I was not thinking about myself. I was thinking about you. You refused to see how dangerous she was. Do you understand what that's like? Watching you poison yourself? Watching you get sicker every time you looked at her, hanging off everything she said?' An ashen limb reached out. Attached at an angle too obscure to be anatomically correct, it rubbed rhythmic circles in his back. Its knuckles grazing his shuddering shoulder blade. Asclepius' presence was smothering in a way he found familial. It wanted the best for him, even if it meant tough love and everything that came along with it. 'You didn't see her scoping the house when you were 'sick.' You didn't notice the knife she left on the kitchen counter. She went for the basement on your first date and you thought it was an accident? It wasn't chance she found you- she was hunting you down.' The handle was slipping. His hands were sweating. Every good time they had disintegrated. She was subterfuge. She was lies. He was right. Down to the Superlike, she'd been playing him. She pretended to love his poetry, the art she inspired. She kissed his neck, saying all the right things and making the right moves to make her worm her way into his heart and rewire every capillary until it functioned for her. He buckled. Folding over, his torso blunted the explosive, plangent wail from his chest. He had no neighbors for miles, but his cry sent birds from the trees. "THEN WHY CAN'T I END IT?" His shoulders racked with a sob. "Why can't I end it, huh?! Why can't I cut her off, why can't sever this? She destroyed everything. She made me think we had a future- that I'd have a white picket fence. That I could have a dog, a family, a life I can put on Instagram and be proud of. Someone I could bring home to my parents. She made me think I could balance you and the American dream, that I could love you both-" Asclepius' arm crackled. Joints of a closer, separate arm that hadn't moved since rigor mortis closed around the hand holding the knife. His head buzzed with a steady command, borrowed a voice different from his own. 'Drop it.' 'Drop it.' 'Drop it.' It chanted. 'No one understands more than I do how much you're suffering.' It layered over the cadence. The rock's eye, soft without a lid to inflect, dipped low. 'I am the only one who understands. But there's more to this than what you're feeling.' 'Drop it...' 'Drop it...' "No." He swiped his eye with his shoulder. 'You will reprimand her for the breach of privacy,' It intoned. 'But you will forgive her. You will call me an art project. You'll tell her it's not done.' "You're letting her go!" He railed. "You're letting her go. Why do you want to save her? You showed me how to throw her head into a faucet. You told me to sink her in the lake every chance you got. I've seen you imagine every bone in her arm breaking, but this is where you quit?!" 'And this is the time you choose to doubt me?' It said. 'Think.' His head flooded. Memories- not of Mia, but his life. Every time fight with his parents. When his band disbanded, and every girl that broke his heart from high school to college. The degree whose chance he spoiled, Exam after exam failed, results in envelopes he shredded before opening. Asclepius was always there, ready to console and build him back from the ground-up... But this time felt different. Ausland's posture slipped, falling off his ankles and onto the floor. "I can't do this, man. I loved her." 'You can, and you will. I would never hurt you like she did. Drop the knife.' Necrotic fingernails sank into his wrist. Gently, it pressed, until his thumb slacked. The blade fell. It notched the wood, severing a curl with it. An errant, twisted ankle kicked it away. 'Good. And now...?' It provided the next step. Imagery burrowed into his head like a parasite. The guidance he craved, the resolution to this heartbreak wasn't supposed to be mercy but it was all Asclepius was offering. This request in particular was sadistic. "Why are you doing this?" He asked. "You want to talk to her?" 'Ausland...' He felt the contrasting sensations of what it was asked of him against his palm. Warm blood against stone. Asclepius had a spot picked out, lovingly offering a blank face of caprock, ripe for the taking. Blood meant he would be continuing the charade. "I loved her, man. I loved her so much..." 'I know.' It said. 'There will be time to deal with that. But trust me.' It refreshed the favor. Surrendering to the only force that'd been a constant, his hand moved. Blind, apathetic faith, he followed the direction the phantom thought laid out. Blood spilled over his fingers. His palm smeared a layer off the ground, and crosshatched it across the slate. He painted in broad strokes, splitting his own palm with the pressure. The game would go on. This time, with two players. 'This isn't the end.' Asclepius rewarded. 'The world feels like its over, but this is the start. You did the right thing.' Various limbs bristled. The red, pulsating glow from its 'chest' momentarily brightened. Ausland didn't know what it meant but he wasn't considering much of anything. Pent up rage and sorrow receded. In its place was a numbness, a coping mechanism, so when she opened her eyes she wasn't staring abject homicidal intent in the face. 'She's waking. Wipe your hand. Straighten up. You're a concerned boyfriend. You want to know how she hit her head. You were so scared. You were crying because you were worried. I will handle the rest.'

[high5nerd]

Alone Together---Chap. Four

The following day was a Saturday, so Sadie woke up at seven thirty to watch television and have Alice's special breakfast of Saturday flapjacks. It was kind of endearing seeing them wake up to the new day. It brought a strange of feeling of warmth into my heart, or at least where it should be.

Sadie woke up groggily, rubbing her light blue eyes to get the sleep out and almost stumbling in her pink nightgown. Once she was halfway down the hallway, she noticed my presence and held up her hands.

"What is it?" I asked, raising a brow. Did she need another hug? She should know by now I wasn't into hugging or any physical touch at all. Affection like that was sickening.

"Bring me to the table." she mumbled, holding back a yawn.

I let out a bark of laughter, causing Alice to look up at the sound. She smiled, rolled her eyes and continued sliding another large flapjack around in the pan and flipping it expertly.

"What makes you think I'll do that, little one?" I put my hands on my hips, giving her a challenging eye.

She grinned widely and puffed out her chest, "Because I'm the princess of this household! And it is by royal degree-!"

"Decree." I corrected.

"-that you do what I tell you to do!" Sadie finished, completely awake now.

I folded my arms, contemplating her reasoning. She's such a child. I finally sighed exasperatedly, picked her up and swung her over my shoulder, causing her to squeal.

"You didn't clarify how you wanted to be delivered to the table, your Highness." I grinned as she flopped into the chair. Sadie beamed up at me before setting her big eyes on the plate of buttered and syrupy flapjacks Alice set there. I watched Sadie wolf down the fluffy breakfast, and then I looked up at her sister.

I didn't expect our eyes to meet, so we both quickly looked away, or at least I did. I don't know what caused me to look away. Maybe it was the modesty since she was still in sleep clothes or her hair was messy. I don't know…

"Did you sleep well, Pitch?" Alice asked anyway, causing me to look back at her.

I had to straighten myself out. I wasn't acting like myself. Where was the regality I possessed? The smoothness, the swiftness, everything that once defined me? It all melted away when this mortal was around, leaving some sort of mumbling fool that I didn't know was me. It was out of my character, and I hated it immensely. I still do to this very day. I will not allow Alice to see that.

"I slept just fine after finishing my nightmare duties. And you?" I coolly looked at her, but I heard Sadie hold back a giggle. I shot a look at her, and Sadie grinned wider.

"Ignore her. She's always hyper on Saturday mornings." Alice waved her hand in Sadie's direction, who huffed in response to that.

"I can tell," I grinned, and she smiled in return.

"I slept pretty well, actually. Usually I don't sleep very well most nights. Probably because I work a lot." she shrugged as if it wasn't an important matter.

I felt my brows knit together in worry, "That's not healthy. You should get more rest, even in daylight. I promise I won't give you nightmares if you rest."

Alice laughed at that, making this prickling feeling dot across my cheeks. This feeling felt like fire, as if someone held a candle close to my face so I could feel the heat of the flame, right across the bridge of my nose, my cheeks and the tips of my ears.

"Stop laughing at him, Alice. He's blushing." Sadie said, looking at me worriedly.

Alice immediately stopped laughing, trying to be respectful, "I'm sorry! It's just that what you said isn't what I normally hear. But thank you for the promise."

I shrugged, "I don't normally offer that. At all."

"Aw, then it's a high honor!" she teased, winking at me.

I gruffly muttered something under my breath, looking away so she wouldn't see the blush on my face again. I bet I looked ridiculous. I used to be something feared! Where did all that go?!

Sadie seemed to save my hide, because she quickly finished her breakfast, cleaned her plate and then tugged me over to the television.

"Sadie, you're a greedy little girl." Alice gently scolded, putting on her jacket to go back and work a shift at the bookstore.

"I am not! I just want my friend sitting next to me when we watch a movie. You can have him when you get home." Sadie stuck out a childish tongue at her, and I couldn't help but chuckle.

Her sister sighed tiredly, before looking at me with those adorable eyes of hers, "You don't mind, do you? I was going to call a babysitter-"

"No, it's fine," I waved away her excuse, "you go earn that fat paycheck. I'll be here forced to watch Barbie movies."

"Ha!" Alice laughed, slamming a beanie over her hair, "I taught her better taste. Enjoy some good ol' Disney classics."

Now, normally I would never succumb to a children themed movie. I honestly dreaded the thought of Snow White or Little Mermaid, but Sadie ended up wanting to watch some movie called the Lion King, followed by the second movie and then...a one in a half? That's a strange title. Movies can't be cut in half. Odd. There's so much I need to know about the mortal world than I thought. But quite honestly I enjoyed it somewhat, the idea of lions acting like it's a battle of the land and throne. Immediately I recognized this relation to another great piece of work written by Shakespeare, Hamlet. I knew this entire movie was based off of that play, so I was impressed.

Halfway through watching a scene of two lions tumbling down a hill during some song, Sadie turned to me and asked a very blunt question.

"Do you like my sister?" she asked, and I could just barely see the corners of her mouth rotate upward into a disguised smile.

I nodded, "She's a nice person. I haven't met a nice person like her in a very long time-"

"I mean, do you like-like her?" Sadie asked again, and I could tell by her attitude she thought I was dumb.

Alright, maybe I was a little bit ignorant. I pointed out that just because she added the same word in front of the original doesn't make it any more important. She groaned and flopped onto her back, landing right onto the cushions that fell off the couch.

"Pitch!" she exclaimed, "Do you have a crush on my sister or not?!"

I stammered, "W-what?! Who do you think you are of accusing me of such-!"

Sadie leaned back up and her expression was almost amusing. She was imitating the same look Alice used as if to say, 'no nonsense.' I sucked in air through my teeth and looked back to the screen to see some baboon talking to Simba. Hopefully my blush would look like a reflection of the screen or something.

"I don't." I muttered, "Aren't you kind of young to ask something like that?"

Sadie smiled, excited, "It's fun to talk about! Come on, I'm a girl. Besides, why do you always blush when she says something nice and you compliment her a lot and I always catch you staring at her and you follow her around and-!"

"Would you kindly shut your mouth!?" I snapped, causing her to immediately silence herself, her eyes wide that I was ticked off. I sighed, and then turned back to the screen, "Alright, so I do. What does it matter anyways?"

Sadie immediately brightened at that. She shot up like a lightning bolt and jumped all around, completely ignoring the movie she wanted to watch in the first place. Her hands were flying everywhere and she did so many dance moves with one burst of energy, I thought she was having a spasm that needed to be checked out at the hospital. She finally did one final whoop in the air before plopping back down onto her knees, leaning a bit too close to my face as if I were a specimen at a zoo.

"What are you gonna do? Flowers? I think you should do flowers!" Sadie dreamily sighed, "it's the most romantic thing a-!"

"I'm not doing any of that."

She stopped. It's as if my statement shattered her fantasies like broken shards of mosaic glass. But instead of getting angry about it, she gave me a curious look. "Why? Is it because you don't have any money?"

I shook my head, not really wanting to tell her why I know I'll never approach her.

"Think about it, Sadie. A spirit, who to everyone else, is invisible. You want me to be with your sister?" I asked, giving her a look that a teacher most likely would give to question the judgement of a student.

Sadie merely nodded excitedly, "Yeah!"

I sighed once more, running a hand through my hair from the stress that was slowly building up in both my chest and my head. How can this girl not get it? Spirits and mortals can't be like that. They never can. How was I to explain all this to a nine year old? I looked up at her, and noticed how she genuinely looked concerned.

"Your sister would hate me. It just...wouldn't work, okay?" I leaned against the foot of the couch once more and glued my eyes to the screen. End of discussion.

Wrong. I should have known Sadie wanted to talk more.

"How do you know? You've done nothing wrong." she said, but was surprised at how I shook my head.

"Sadie...I'm a terrible being. I killed my own family, I tried destroying the Guardians, I almost succeeded in gaining total control over the world, I threatened the life of a child and I almost killed Sandman. You think your sister would find any redemption in that?" I looked at her.

As I suspected. She was horrified. She looked heartbroken, that I was a killer in the past. She looked down at her bare toes, sadly wiggling them to distract herself for a second. She must have thought for a while, because she looked back up at me with a determined glare and said, "Yeah, you deserve forgiveness."

"You're just saying that." I rolled my eyes, but Sadie shook her head furiously.

"I'm not! Sandy told me everything. He said you were under control of evil magic when you killed people in the past, so it technically doesn't count."

"Sadie!" I shouted, angry, "I killed my own wife and the king and queen of the Constellation I lived in and I murdered countless others to gain total dominance of the universe!"

Sadie's lower lip started to tremble, and her eyes were becoming glassy. I sighed, leaning up to face her, "You need to understand that. Life isn't...life isn't just a fairytale. Call me a hypocrite because I'm literally the walking proof of it, but bad guys are never forgiven. Bad guys never get a happy ending. And...and I'm a bad guy."

Sadie's tears stopped when I said that. She looked down at her lap, her hands folded perfectly as if she was contemplating the words I said to her. I truly felt guilty I just told her the most horrifying things that happened in my life. That wasn't something I should just throw onto a child, especially one who has suffered with loss like she has.

But then she opened her hands, and inside was the stone Sandy gave me. It was a bright pink, like the shade of the lightest rose one could find. When I picked it up in my hand, there was a warmth to it that felt as if it was a living object. I could almost feel a faint pulse in the stone. I looked up at Sadie, who timidly smiled.

"You're not evil, Pitch. I know you're not. Because if you were, Sandy wouldn't have given you a second chance. If you were, you wouldn't be here. It wasn't your fault that many people died, you were being controlled. It wasn't fair. But now you can make it better...and stop wasting time." Sadie said, pointing to the rock and then to me.

I flipped over the stone, noticing how the color of light pink was on both sides. It still radiated a warmth that was inviting. I finally smirked, and a harmless chuckle escaped my throat.

"You know, little one…you're wiser than you look."

Sadie shrugged her shoulders, smiling a little bit brighter than before, "Mommy taught me that. She always believed people were good inside. Daddy taught me also that forgiveness is important, and that grudges are not worth it…" she trailed off, trying to recollect any memories of them.

I smiled, and touched her cheek reassuringly. She looked up, trying her best grin to hide her sadness that they were gone.

"You're one of the bravest kids I've ever met, Sadie. You keep on honoring your parents like that. You'll be very happy if you do." I promised her, and tapped her nose to make her smile.

She giggled and hugged me, and this time I didn't flinch at the touch like I used to. I patted her back and smiled brightly, gladly welcoming the feeling of being something close to the fatherly figure once more. I missed that parental feeling. I miss being a father…

Sadie drew back and said casually, "So are you gonna kiss my sister or not?"

[himindovermadi-blog]

in the sprit of sexuality

“We’re all free spirits here, ain’t no one gone judge you” is what he told me when he blocked the door the first time I tried to leave. My face scrunched up in confusion as I thought to myself, “Nigga that is not what I am worried about right now.”

...

Sexuality has always been sacred to me. I discovered mine young. I played with it until i thought it was evil. I promised myself I’d save my first kiss for marriage. But, I’m not sure if i lost my virginity to my first girlfriend or my first boyfriend. In college, I turned to sex when I was insecure, bored, or lonely. I went celibate when I realized my life was a mess, I broke celibacy for an asshole that couldn’t tell me I was beautiful. I believed a lot of lies about what relationships were supposed to be. I fell in love. Maybe for the first time, maybe the third. When we broke up I went numb.

I found consolation in one of my oldest friends.

The two of us hadn’t spoken in months,  in those few months our lifestyles had become increasingly stratified and it was hard for us to agree on almost anything. At one point she had been a mentor to me. Now, we were learning to just be cordial again. And, despite our growing differences, I still trusted her more than almost anyone on the planet. So when she invited me to a hotel party, I assumed I'd be safe and we would stick together, just like we always did.

After the breakup I was intent on retaining some celibacy, my heart hadn’t even begun to process the thought of losing someone I cared so much about. But the idea of reviving one of my most favorite relationships with this friend comforted me greatly. When we arrived to party at the hotel room to much less than what I expected, I should’ve felt tricked. Instead, I laughed. I knew myself. I told everyone no. Firmly. I was celibate. But at the same time, I knew in my heart it wouldn’t matter. I knew in that hotel (motel?) room I would have to discover something incredibly new about myself, and even though my willpower was strong, it was to be no match for my curiosity.

It started with a shot of cognac. Then a cigarette, one blunt in rotation, then two, and half a bean google later told me was ecstasy. Things began to slow down and my hands started to shake. I felt the energy in the room deepen, all of us…connecting. My heart told me to let go and enjoy, but my brain kept thinking of the gunshots I heard outside the room earlier. And the two fully loaded magazines next to the bed, and the red shirt and hat the man in front of me wore proudly. The baby furniture next to the bed and all the doors broken off their hinges. People can be incredibly persuasive while under the influence. And I’m not sure I can blame it all on the influence. I gave in. I wanted to leave, I tried to leave, twice, but again and again I gave in after encouraging words. “I’m showing you my whole body, babe, why won’t you show me yours? You’re my best friend and this is the only way I know how to show love to you, and if you leave, we might never speak again.”

Her words didn’t matter as much to me. I had heard her stories before, and she knew exactly how to get inside my head. But, I think I gave in because I knew I couldn’t leave without it. Without finding out exactly how deep and how far I could go. My entire body was divided in half. Logic told me to run, not walk to my car, speed away and never look back. My intuition begged me to stay, and enjoy the fate that was always meant for me. After all, sexuality was about experiences, right? Taking a journey through the unknown, finding pleasure in the most unlikely places… right? After all I was never opposed to experiences like this. I begged my boyfriend for experiences like this. Why deny my body an experience I had once so desperately wanted in the past. If these were the circumstances under which my pleasure came, how could I deny them?

…

It still doesn’t make much sense to me. I feel like in another dimension I stayed, the whole time, and loved every moment. Maybe I felt sick after. Maybe I went home and sobbed and could never see myself in the same way again. Maybe we just rolled another blunt and watched cartoons for a while. I got home around 11 that night. My parents were asleep. The ecstasy kept me up for another few hours, turning over and over in my bed. On my left side I convinced myself it was my destiny to ruin all my hopes and dreams and start selling my body. I was known to switch up for no reason. When I flipped over to my right side I knew I had been sexually assaulted, by my best friend. I should be angry, furious! In the political climate we live in, how did I let this shit happen to me?!

However, in truth, I don’t feel angry. After seven months I hardly remember what they looked like. I never spoke to my friend again after that night. In the car on the way home she kept trying to tell me she didn’t set me up. The next day she sent me incredibly long messages about how I chickened out and abandoned her while we were high. She told me she was better than me for wanting to stay. She told me I was a weak bitch, and part of me believed her. I went to go see two therapists that week. One of whom (white) called himself an honorary nigga. I laughed harder after that session than I had in months.

After that incident, I ended up taking a film class where we watched this Luis Buñuel film, Belle de Jour, about a French woman with vivid fantasies of working in a brothel. In his film, Buñuel doesn’t shy from sexuality and approaches it with a deeply intrusive yet completely objective approach. I was shocked by how seamlessly he moved between assault and pleasure. I went from being re-traumatized to intrigued to appreciative. Often times with sexuality, our experiences are not black and white. We love and hate some parts, we love and hate the same part. They are all different shades of gray— oh my god, I get the book title. Sexuality traverses the entire spectrum of our emotions and sometimes does it all in one take. Maybe sexuality is just this powerful force to be explored and respected, ultimately neutral on its own.

[the-jaundiced-onlooker-blog]

Top 5 Worst games of 2016 from my experience.

Of all the years of me playing video games, this year I spent more time collecting classics rather than trying new games. I played not too many games that came out this year, and four of them you’ll be hearing about. There is one more game that I’ll admit I haven’t played but it deserves its place on this list despite that, you’ll know which one I mean. Another thing to get out of the way, I haven’t played No Man’s Sky, so you won’t see me talk about that.

Star Fox Zero (Played on Wii U) I’m not too big of a Star Fox fan, but this game did look like a lot of fun. Despite everyone telling me it’s just a lazy remake of Star Fox 64, I wouldn’t mind since I never played 64. So why is this game on the list? Because of the God-Awful controls. Fun Fact: I don’t like Splatoon because I hate having to rotate the Wii U gamepad to aim your weapon, so when a game does that on a bigger scale, it results in hand cramps. I should be happy they didn’t port this game to the 3DS since another game I played with controls like that already gave me hand cramps on a bigger scale. Controls may not be the only thing in a Video Game, but if you screw it up this badly, you make the good aspects not desirable by players.

To Ash (Played on PC) Steam opened up the floodgates to a sea of random games this year, quite a lot of them are RPG maker games. Personally I have nothing against RPG maker games since I usually enjoy these games. But this game I quite frankly got really bored of really quickly. The idea and battle system is pretty unique for what it is but it needs a few tweaks. The enemy placement sucks out quite a lot of enjoyment and is one of the few moments where I wish they did the random enemy encounter system instead. And the stock music is just ordinary, no twist or creative uses, stock music. the There are worse RPG Maker games out there, Originally I was going to put Final Quest on this list instead of this game, but that game was a dollar, this was $5. There are good RPG maker games out there, if you want to play a good one, search up Forum Fantasy, that game is hilarious and it is free.

The Division (Played on PS4) Ubisoft, I’m noticing a trend here with your marketing of new IPs. True this game isn’t really that bad, everything of this game I have seen done better in other games that came before. If you like the following experiences, check out these games instead.

* Hide Behind Wall mechanics against enemy players - Grand Theft Auto Online and any Uncharted game. * Shooter MMO with various bullet sponge enemies - Destiny * A boss battle against a Helicopter - Metal Gear Solid: Peace Walker * Random Loot from long Missions - Destiny * A vast world you can experience with a party of online Players - Every MMO ever made * New weapons where the only stat that matters is BP - Destiny

You know what, scratch all this. If there are things you like about The Division, Destiny already did it and that game is cheaper and more functional too. Actually I’ve noticed a design pattern here. Apparently the Division was supposed to be Ubisoft’s answer to Destiny, its the Call of Duty plague all over again. So what’s unique about this game, the rogue mechanic. And how poorly implemented it was. If you go rogue, your location is broadcast to everyone and it becomes near impossible to survive. So there you go, a poor man’s Destiny, which is a third person shooter, with a mechanic that doesn’t do very much. I pass. Also, WHY CAN ONLY ONE PLAYER IN THE ENTIRE SERVER USE THAT BLOODY TERMINAL AT A TIME?

Mighty No. 9 (Played on PS4) Oooooooooooohhhh. This… Flipping… Game… I was a believer of crowdfunding. The idea of people gathering to fund a project that executive don’t care about intrigued me. It’s why I sponsor some of my favorite YouTube creators using Patreon. And it is why I gave up $5 to this game. I got the game off of Gamefly, I sent it back in the same day I ordered it. And then I cried. And no, I am not saying that joke. There are games that are worse than this on a mechanical level but those games didn’t have a rounded $4,000,000 budget from crowdfunding, and a publisher at the same time. It also didn’t help that this game looks nothing like how it did when it was first announced. It looked worse and worse each time we got a new trailer and I’m seriously questioning where’d the money go. The cutscenes (if you can call them that) are just text boxes between still characters. Fighting games from the 90s had better cutscenes than this, and they had a much lower budget for christ’s sake. Add marketing that turns away most of the customers they try to attract, cliched music if you choose to listen to the standard audio, and horrendously placed instant kill obstacles, and you get a game that will crush your trust of Kickstarter. I’ll stick to Mega Man fan hacks for now.

Solibrain: Knight of Darkness (Never played but I need to bring this up) Oh my god. How do games like this still exist in today’s world? With it’s biggest feature being “Stunning 3D Graphics” and Cameos from the main player model of Tera online, Music from Ori and the Blind Forrest, text font from Zelda, and a shield from Skyrim. But the worst offense in my opinion is taking someone else’s art from Deviantart without giving credit and marketing it as official game art. Great, now I’m making connections to The Slaughtering Grounds. One look at this game and you’d think it was another PC asset flip squeezed through Steam Greenlight in exchange for game keys. But it was released on PlayStation Network, 60 people downloaded and played this game before it was pulled. So what could an average player expect from downloading this “Epic Adventure” with “Stunning 3D Graphics?” “Open Exploration” through desolate and atrophy inducing environments as cobbled together assets from games you’d rather be playing having a “duel” with generic enemies that die after a soft blow from your blunt sword. Accompanied by your standard quota of day one bugs and glitches. I can think of better ways to spend “8+ Hours of Play.”

I never played this game unlike the others on this list but I am still baffled by the existence of this game. This asset flip came out on PlayStation 4, people need to be cautious of Asset Flips on consoles now, NOWHERE IS SAFE!

(Note: The quotation marks are used to point out specific text from it’s YouTube Trailer)