#i imagine that this event is in sixth grade

[asurrogateblog]

Cannibals, Pirates, and PhDs: How Did I Get Here?

I mentioned in some tags earlier that I’ve only actually been a real fan of Pink Floyd for under a year, and that the confluence of events that led up to it is pretty absurd. Some interest seemed to be taken in this, so I though I’d elaborate.

I didn’t know how to shorten this timeline and have it make any sense, so it’s... long. But idk, I think it’s pretty funny. If you’re nosy like I am this is for you.

My Backstory Timeline:

early childhood: my parents essentially mainline me and my little sister with The Beatles. I know almost no songs written past the 70’s until at least sixth grade. I develop a childhood crush on Paul McCartney, a joke that the universe really decides to play the long game on.

2014: my dad calls me over one night, and gravely tells me he’s been waiting to share something until I’m old enough. I brace myself to be told about sex or secret half-siblings. Instead, he tells me I need to listen to The Wall. Irritated at the idea of wasting an hour and half of my night, I nevertheless comply and go up to my room and put it on. I do not come back from this, clearly having inherited some sort of generational curse.

Around the same time, I am also secretly watching Hannibal every time my parents send me upstairs because Game of Thrones is “too gory”. This will trigger three important things: an interest in psychology, a love of horror media, and a classical music phase will train my attention span to last well past the three minute mark.

2014-2023: Over the intervening years, I become a casual fan of Pink Floyd, but make a deliberate point not to learn anything about the band. I like being able to imagine my own meanings for the songs. Also, I am motivated against this by a childhood memory of being deeply frightening by a picture of old Paul McCartney (LOL). I do not want that to ever happen again, so no learning.

Cut to April of 2023: I am finishing up my first year of my PhD program studying media psychology. I am in a bad place mentally, and am going through another horror movie phase to fill the hole. As a result, I get very into American Psycho. The main character, Patrick Bateman, is a fan of superficial 80’s pop music, particularly Genesis. I decide to start listening to Genesis to see if I agree with his tastes. While researching “best Genesis albums”, I come across The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway. I listen to it, and am blown away. I had no idea that the Phil Collins band made music like that. This sends me down the prog-rock rabbit hole. I still won't learn any lore.

Summer of 2023: MEANWHILE, I am also going through another pirate phase. I have a fairly encyclopedic knowledge of 18th century piracy (and am still quite active in the Black Sails fan community). Around this time, I get really obsessed with this one random guy named Dennis McCarthy who was hanged in 1718.

I decide to work poor Dennis into a science fiction story I’ve been working on. The premise is essentially that the universe is an abandoned simulation, and a ‘glitch in the matrix’ starts to, among other things, bring people from the wrong time periods back to life. The format of the story is vaguely monster-of-the-week, in which the characters have to solve various problems caused by mistakes in the code. I think, “hey, you know what would be perfect for this? that fanfic I wrote about The Wall in high school.” Said fic (which that stupid fucking beatles movie stole from me) is about a world in which Pink Floyd never existed, but a wannabe rock-star discovers a box full of their records and decides to copy them. While he is touring his plagiarized version of The Wall, he realizes that the events of the album are starting to happen to him in real life. By working this concept into my new story, I go through another one of my periodical The Wall phases. It's in full swing when fall rolls around.

September of 2023: This semester, I take a grad-level narrative theory class in the English department. I decide it would be helpful to follow along with a specific example, so I choose The Wall. Using the terminology I am learning in the class, I start to realize that The Wall is…. incredibly narratologically fucked up. To help orient me, I watch the bootleg concert recordings, and the trick with the surrogate band sends me so out of my mind that I decide I must break my rule about never learning band lore.

This is where the two plot-lines converge. I don’t remember which came first, but around this same time, I think to myself “hey, if Genesis was hiding such an incredible album under the 80’s pop, what must Pink Floyd be hiding?” On that whim, I put on Piper at the Gates of Dawn, which equally sends me so out of my mind that I decide I must break my rule about never learning band lore. I needed to know what the fuck happened to get them from Piper to The Wall.

September-November: In the two months between the onset of this and finally making another sideblog, I dedicate all of my free time to learning as much about Pink Floyd as humanely possible (and writing a 20 page essay for that narrative theory class). As you can imagine, this is a lot to unpack all at once for someone who didn’t even know who Roger or Syd or any of the rest of them were. Luckily, I am over-educated enough to be a very fast learner. Aside from the band lore itself, I of course also fall in love with the rest of Pink Floyd's discography musically-speaking. Having this interest to latch onto genuinely pulls me out of my depression.

Cut to February 2024: I am really enjoying myself, and want to keep this going as long as possible, but I am starting to scrape the bottom of the barrel on Pink Floyd lore. I decide I need to feed the fire by supplementing with lore from another band. The Beatles seem to have a strong fan presence on tumblr, why not revisit a childhood favorite? The universe laughs at my expense.

That about brings us up to date. I have gone through so much character development over the last eight months, it’s crazy. Pink Floyd is definitely one of those things that is less of a “phase” and more of a permanent part of my mindscape. Weirdly enough, since I am studying media psychology, all of this has also been really good for my career? I never took an interest in -real- media figures (as opposed to fictional characters) before, and I feel like I have a much clearer sense of things now. It's definitely influenced my research, so whatever domino effect this has on my future is bound to get even funnier.

Anyway, that’s my backstory!

[catofadifferentcolor]

The Silmarillion

And thou, Melkor, shalt see that no theme may be played that hath not its uttermost source in me, nor can any alter the music in my despite. For he that attempteth this shall prove but mine instrument in the devising of things more wonderful, which he himself hath not imagined.

I first read The Hobbit in sixth grade. It had long been one of my mother's favorites, and the fact she delayed so long in giving it to me to read was almost certainly so I could appreciate it fully the first time I read it.

I very clearly remember reading The Lord of the Rings the year after, but can't quite put my finger on when I first read The Silmarillion. It must have been early in HS, perhaps even in eighth grade, but I have no clear memory of the event. Which is odd because in many ways I like The Silmarillion best of all Tolkien's works.

Do I have to keep family trees handy to keep track of all the names? Yes. But does it speak to the deep-seated need in me to read and create fiction that feels as real - or more real - than life? Yes. A million times yes.

The Ainulindalë is a piece of world-building so beautiful and perfect that I'm not entirely sure I can conceive anymore a world being created in myth or fiction that isn't sung into existence. I'm horrible with lyrics and instruments, but would spend every hour of every day surrounded by music if I could and I feel the Music of the Ainur in a way I can't fully describe.

Even if I have very strong feelings about how, if everything has it's "utmost source" in Eru Ilúvatar and all has been imagined and perceived by him, then even Melkor's rebellion is part of his design. Therefore evil is part of the godhead as much as good, and that morality is impossible in paradise, and that doing good is meaningless unless the possibility to do evil is present.

I also get strong echos of gnosticism from the Ainulindalë that I doubt Tolkien intended, staunch catholic that he was, but *shrug*.

The Valaquenta is also fascinating, if primarily for how Tolkien chose to divide, assign, and pair the powers. (Though I ask: how can gods have sex and/or gender before the ability to take physical form exists? If Elves are closer to the Valar than any other, does this mean their concept of sex and/or gender always reflects the body that they are born with? Or their body changes to reflect their spirit? Or that I'm reading too much into things?)

The Quenta Silmarillion is, of course, a masterpiece. Entirely too many names for one person to keep straight and almost impossible to understand without a map and an elvish dictionary at hand - and yet a masterpiece. There's much to be said about the sheer amount of work and thought that went into every page, but then I don't get to scream about how extra it is Fëanor burst into flame rather than die of his injuries, or how maybe he whole point of Morgoth isn't evil can speak fair words and still be evil or evil can be defeated but without Morgoth to strive against, the works of the elves and Valar are meaningless, or wonder if it's possible for elves to suffer from inbreeding, because the family trees of the important elves are so interwoven as to make me concerned.

Also, am I the only one who finds Melian and Thingol's love story disturbing? Especially as the whole man stumbles across a woman in the woods and falls in love with her instantly is the archetype for true love in LotR. Setting aside the fact that he was a king who should have had more care for his duties, there's something bizarre about love arising from two people standing and staring at each other silently for years beyond measure. That's not love to me. You can't have love without knowing something about a person - and that involves talking and time.

That said, I did not go into this reread expecting to come out shipping Fingon and Maedhros, but here I am. (Call it any kind of love you wish, but Fingon deciding to strike out and save his cousin on his own the moment he learns what happened to him is love. Foolhardy, perhaps, but love. Better than the we stare at each other without ever saying a word, forsaking all duties, and rarely listen to each other when we are married trope that all of the canon ships seem to fall into.)

The story of Beren and Luthien is entirely too extra, as always. I love it. Finrod's rap battle with Sauron before dying in the dungeons of the castle he built is epic. Luthien in general is epic as well, though I wonder if all of Middle Earth might not have been better served if, instead of stealing a Simaril, Beren had bothered to stab Morgoth while he was sleeping instead. (I'm torn between being glad the pair found each other and found happiness, and thinking they went about things incredibly selfishly. As much as I love the idea of sacrificing everything for love, the reality is people have duties and responsibilities and abandoning those is rarely noble.)

Fingolfin's duel with Morgoth is just as epic. It's brave and foolish and exactly the sort of thing I'd expect someone in his situation to do, even if tactically it probably is the worst thing he could do.

And don't even get me started on Fingon's death. Maedhros tried so hard to unify the people against their common foe, but there was too much hate between them and ultimately he was betrayed... and a part of me can't help but wonder if his father just hadn't burned the ships, there would have been enough trust between them to win the day. The Oath really kept coming back to bite them, but it seems like even when they tried to fight against it they failed. So that they achieved as much good as they did despite it is really quite something. (Maedhros' death and Maglor's choice to wander the coast forever hit me right in the feels.)

I've also strong feelings about Turin - mainly the dude wasn't doomed by the narrative, he doomed himself and the narrative only stepped up when he ran out of things to destroy on his own - and Maeglin - in that I got a Tom Riddle vibe from him, and can't help but wonder if his cousin hadn't been suspicious of him from day one if things wouldn't have ended better for all of Gondolin. And Haleth for the 3 pages she shows up is A+; no notes, keep doing what you do.

The whole story of Numenor was brilliant. The whole story of Ar-Pharazôn is so very human that it burns, because Sauron really didn't have to reach hard to twist things his way. Is leading a war against the gods insanely arrogant? Perhaps, but it's so very understandable. And the way all the rest of the Second and Third age is tacked on to the end, with the evens of LotR covered briefly in 2.5 pages? Such a power move.

...frankly the influences of Tolkien's experience in WWI drips from the pages. A helpless, hopeless - maybe even pointless - war. Death - valiant and brave, desperate and gasping - is everywhere, even the best people inadvertently fall to evil in grief or greed, and hope is rarely futile, though often a long time in bearing fruit.

All in all: I love the book, even if keeping The Atlas of Middle-Earth and some printed family trees on hand is a must. I'm still not sure I believe the Simarils were worth all the trouble, but there is something to be said about fighting against an impossible evil. Perhaps it was foolhardy, but at least they fought. The Valar didn't even bother to do that until their backs were against the wall. It's inspirational and depressing and perfect in a way that so many things which try to hit the largest possible target audience rarely are.

Is it a perfect book? No. I've serious questions about some of the grand romances being grand or romantic. And I could probably write an essay on how uncomfortable I am with white and light and beauty being tied to goodness while "evil" races are dark and ugly - and often evil for no reason other than Morgoth got to them first. And yet it is a brilliant book, entirely worthy of standing beside or even replacing some RL mythologies, and I will definitely reread in the future. 5 out of 5 stars.

[cultofdionysusnet]

⅃M - ɘdiꙅ qi|Ꮈ ɘʜƚ ᴎo u ɘɘꙄ

Imagine a world in which all your favorite tropes have been turned topsy turvy. Where once the bad boy only likes you is now the nice guy only hates you. You are confused but play along because everyone loves a good trope, right? Come play in our new event where everything is reversed and have a giggle while you do so.

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊Masterlist: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊First Submission by Jackie @mint-yooxgi: That Kids, Is How I Met Your Father (Seonghwa, Ateez) Prompt Chosen~ Accidentally kidnapping a mafia boss

Summary: You seem to have the most rotten luck when it comes to chatting up strangers... and asking them for help...

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊Second Submission by Anya @anyamaris: Twisted Fate (Soobin, Txt) Prompt Chosen~ soulmates who are fated to kill each other

Summary: A character in your writing calls to you and you can't help but wish him into reality.

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊Third Submission by Daaeun @daddyfordaeddy: Do it like me (Hongjoong, Ateez) Prompt Chosen~ good guy/ bad girl

Summary: You want to have some fun with Hongjoong in the (almost) empty library

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊Forth Submission by Jasper @starlitmark: What They Don't See (Seonghwa, Ateez) Prompt Chosen~ no one believes they're dating

Summary: Sooner or later, your friend will have to admit that you and Seonghwa are dating… most likely later, considering they still don’t believe you.

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊Fifth Submission by Holy @holybibly: Too Fucking Hot to Deal (Wooyoung, Ateez) Prompt Chosen~ too hot to cuddle

Summary: When the summer heat hits the city, all you want to do is lie around under the air conditioning and do nothing. But your step-brother's best friend is showing you a whole new way to beat the hell out of the heat. Too hot to cuddle, but great to fuck.

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊Sixth Submission by Topaz @sanjoongie: Grumpily Ever After (Hongjoong, Ateez) Prompt Chosen~ true hate's kiss

Summary: when you're cursed with the hanahaki curse, your only discourse is to search out King Jongho and to get a kiss from him to cure yourself. But when a certain master of spies sticks his nose in your business, life is suddenly a lot more harder

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊Seventh Submission by Queenie @wooyoungqueen: True Hate Kiss (I.N, Stray Kids) Prompt Chose~ true hate's kiss

Summary: I.N popular boy in the academy everyone feared him but one night he was turned into a toad, due to a young witch practicing her magic  until Lee Know saw and picked up I.N finding out who turned him into a toad. A witch appeared saying only a hate kiss will break the curse. Not the kiss of love but a hate kiss of his mortal enemy. 

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊Eighth Submission by Rie @pyeonghongrie Anything You Could Do, I Could Do Better (Ateez, Hongjoong) Prompt Chose~ Reverse Academic Rivals

Summary: You and your academic rival do what academic rivals do, trying to one-up each other in grades. But the thing is, both of you are teachers.

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊Ninth Submission by Orion @nebulousbrainsoup Romantically (Stray Kids, Jisung) Prompt Chose~ Impulse Marriage

Summary: After your most recent subpar date, you're ready to swear off dating altogether. So, it seems, is your roommate. When you throw out a half-joking suggestion, the afternoon takes a surprising turn for the better.

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊Tenth Submission by Bro @bro-atz what we do to boys who are on the run (Ateez, Mingi) Prompt Chose- accidentally kidnapping a mafia boss

Summary: you just so happened to kidnap the wrong man, and you chose the worst possible one to kidnap.

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊Eleventh Submission by Sar @kpop-stories-21 Down In Flames (Ateez, Mingi) Prompt Chose- soulmates who are fated to kill each other

Summary: The wielders of Light and Dark magyk have been at war for countless years. Many skilled Mages on both sides have fallen to the ages-old conflict. But now, a cruel twist of fate could spell a terrible end for both sides.

[mysterious-animated-skulls]

I like to imagine that Vivi navigates around people disbelieving in the supernatural. She believes even before she has concrete proof - the cave, Mystery, Shiromori, Lewis, etc. - and has no interest in arguing. People will believe what they want to believe.

Which doesn't annoy her any less, however.

Applying this to crossovers can be very funny. Let's take Detective Conan for example. The titular Conan doesn't believe in ghosts. Yes, he has some good instincts which I can accept.

But he's also got a death radar. And 'bad things are happening' radar. Conan has the argument on his side that bad things tend to happen. But with how he homes in on the location and the exact moment?

That's definitely a sixth sense, not investigative work or instincts.

And just the way his luck works, he and associated civilians regularly encountering murders and other crimes. But no, Conan claims it's nothing special.

Vivi would side-eye Conan so much for that. She knows by this point that a toxin reverted a 16-years-old teenager by ten years to a grade schooler. She has investigative knowledge coupled with an untainted perception of him and knowing stranger things have happened. Apparently to him, however, science is enough to explain even that.

But eeh, not her problem. If he thinks her silly or naive for her belief in the supernatural, not her problem. She's here for visiting her family and enjoying a vacation. Hot springs, haunted sites, and hot food are calling her name!

If there's anything she's judging Conan for, it's what he's doing to Ran and everybody else around him. But especially Ran. He has been lying to her for months and deceived her several times, to "protect" her. Made her doubt her own mind, when she should know what danger he and SHE is in.

Vivi has a visceral, hateful reaction to discovering that secret.

(She's still struggling with the consequences of Lewis' magic altering her memories. People indirectly lied to her about him, which was understandable because any memory of him used to hurt her. But they still lied. And Mystery hid an important secret with the intention to protect her, only for that secret to blow up in their faces.)

She understands why Conan is keeping that secret. She would be more sympathetic if not for how many people that are not Ran know it by now.

Some of the ghosts following Conan claim that he has connections to U.S.A. secret services. Some of them have been helping him maintain the ruse that he's not Kudo Shinichi (deceiving people included). They're hunting for the same organization.

First, what the fuck?

Second, no chancing to get the kid's deeper attention. He's curious. Vivi approves of that in a detective, but not here, not from him.

Okay, she's biased. Who can blame her?

She mentions the events of the Cave, around the cover story she's developed. She leans into her love for the supernatural to have people dismiss her. She can't do anything if Conan wants to investigate the Mystery Skulls, but she'll definitely make it more difficult. She'll also make fun of him the entire time.

Of course, it's at this point that a murdered pins their deed on Vivi.

Said murdered happens to push all of her issues and she tears verbally into them. (And maybe with her bat.) If said rant also indirectly calls out Conan and everybody covering for him?

Well, only she knows.

[vonclosen]

yknow i’ve always had a kind of funny relationship with the “only time” video of 9/11 bc when i was little, my parents would play enya for me when i went to sleep. and that included only time. and when 9/11 happened they didn’t like, stop, obviously because that was my night time music and most 3 year olds don’t have a lot of social awareness for major events happening in their country when it’s not immediately apparent. so anyways fast forward to sixth grade and imagine my surprise as i watch the twin towers get absolutely decimated while my childhood sleepytime music plays. insane. why did that choose that song.

[vera-yaps]

🥀🖤Zero Day Headcanons🖤🥀

*i dont condone nor romanticize them or their actions i just love the movie!*

🖤🥀Cal tries to get andre to listen to Pavement, Andre calls him a fag for it but the next time he’s out with his parents at the mall, he just may swing by that one record store, the one that smells like rubber and use some of his pizza place paycheck to get one of their albums—the same one Cal showed him. he’d never admit it though.

🖤🥀They are so fucking homophobic/misogynistic im sorry yall😭Like andre i’d imagine more outwardly than cal, to me andre’s the type to say someth like a date🍇/aids joke or some shit and if Rachel’s in vicinity, she’d side eye cal to say something but of course the fucker doesnt. But if it’s just rachel and cal i feel like he may slip up and make some off color remarks but over all wouldnt call women bitches/etc the way andre would (and literally does in the movie)

🖤🥀To me (i dont think this is a very hot take) their part of new stratford is very conservative. it’s not like gun toting bible thumpers conservative but the area is relatively small and spreads fast—When Cal got caught smoking weed it wasnt scandalous but you did hear people saying that pam and steve’s son a few blocks down got busted hanging with druggies or something.

🖤🥀It also makes the queer interpretation more realistic to me. if we’re looking at it from that angle, those two are repressed and they are repressed bad. Like i dont have any particular sexuality headcanons for either of them simply bc they never got to officially figure it out. those feelings were so there for each other. Flat out. they just never got the chance to figure out what their identities were.

🥀🖤that being said my god those two were so pathetic for each other.

🥀🖤They met 1994 in sixth grade civics class

🥀🖤the teacher paired them for an ice breaker activity and they just sorta never left each other

🥀🖤honestly i feel like they developed feelings for each other on a subconscious level way closer to the events of Zero Day

🥀🖤Andre just couldn’t get Cal out of his head

🥀🖤like mf was simpin

🥀🖤Andre never found the need to make genuine friends. he was involved with the science club, the track team, he contributed to the school newspaper, and he was good at what he did, don’t get it twisted.

🥀🖤Like people paint andre to be super outwardly hateful and openly bullying his peers. but like to an extent i think he was liked. not necessarily popular and not as well recieved as cal, but like according to the website they both had relatively extensive-ish friendgroups

🥀🖤but the only person he’s ever considered a close person to him was cal, so he figured it was just that.

🥀🖤having a super close best friend makes you think about him all the time, makes you memorize his band shirts and typical outfits, makes you get all pink when he pays any kind of overt attention to you whatsoever. nothing out of the ordinary.

🥀🖤As for Cal I feel like he starts feeling that way alot sooner than andre does, but hes just as if not more repressed than he is.

🥀🖤Like i could go on about how cal is horrifically mischaracterized by the fandom but thats another post for another day. but like ppl think he’d be extremely open and okay with his sexuality/be a sassy twink? which like tbh i dont see at all

🥀🖤this dude comes from a religious background in the late 90’s/early aughts. like blud would be so repressed its not even funny

🥀🖤he just doesnt feel like anybody else could understand the kind of hate he had under wraps

🥀🖤But andre did.

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

JR: I want to start with kindness. So much of your writing is centered around it, including how many of us struggle with it. Why is kindness important to you?

GS: One of the first images I received of Jesus was this idea of somebody who was so aware of where he was and so selfless that he could intuit what was needed in a given situation to make it better. When I was younger, it hit me that that would be a superpower if I could do that.

Then I got drafted into doing my daughter's sixth grade graduation speech. And I thought, Well, what do I really know as an old fart? It was not much, actually. Except when I scanned back over my life, I had a couple of regrets. They almost all had to do with not being kind enough, which for me often meant being preoccupied with something else or being anxious or being too insecure to step up and do what somewhere in my body I knew was right.

I shared that with the sixth graders, and a few years later gave a version of that to the Syracuse group. At that point, I wouldn't have said that I was that interested in kindness. But you make a speech like that and it gets attention. Suddenly you're The Kindness Person.

For me, it's the practice of trying to believe that the person on the other side is just as real as you are. You happen to be seeing things through these eyes. But theoretically, you could flip around and see them through the other person's eyes, and it would be the same universe.

That has a lot of moral implications, but it also has aesthetic implications. Meaning that story is like a snow globe that you can walk around and go, “Oh, if I imagined these events from this point of view, it would look like this. If I change the perspective, it looks like that.” In the end, the holographic view of the story would be infused with total compassion because you'd know every angle and they would all seem completely reasonable.

JR: Speaking of the snow globe: So many of your characters are trying to be and do good. And it’s really complicated. What feels like doing good in one moment can change in the next based on something as simple as the character walks into a different room. Or we move into another character’s equally convincing POV that opposes or contradicts the one we were just immersed in. Is good something concrete and definable? Is there an Ultimate Truth to life?

GS: When you say, “Here's the situation,” and the reader goes, “Oh, yeah, I get it.” And then you switch, whether it's in that perspective or in another one, there's that moment of disorientation where the reader goes, “Okay, I thought there was just one truth. Now there's at least two. Might there be even more?” This is something I really love about Chekhov: you keep waiting for him to weigh in, to put his finger on the scales, but he doesn't. He's really good at making eight or four or whatever different equally weighted scales.

The ultimate moral work of fiction is to show us how quickly and facilely we judge. Then, if it's a good one, the story teaches you that you can keep several ideas going at once. You can even have several simultaneous moral judgments going at once. To me, that's the highest form of it....

GS:

Kindness doesn't mean niceness. Ultimately, I think it means realism. I always use the example of somebody goes into a coffee shop, and the barista has been crying. Okay, what's the kind thing to do? Well, we don't actually know, because I didn't give you enough information. Even when you're standing there, you don't have enough information. Then it becomes a referendum on how might one decide? And that has something to do with what's going on in your mind before you walk into a coffee shop. If you're thinking I'm such a great, generous teacher of kindness, and then that person is the crying, you’re going to leap in whether you should or not.

I think there's a natural beneficence that rises in us, but the problem is, we don't always know the truth of that situation. A lot of what we think is the truth is our mind supplying some bullshit and we react to that rather than the actual situation. So to be kind might be exactly equal to being so quiet minded that you see clearly, and then your natural goodness will just rise up. But that's all theory.

JR: So beautifully put. One of the biggest complications is that one crying barista might want her tears acknowledged, and the other one might want them ignored.

GS: That’s exactly right. I was walking through O'Hare a couple months ago, and I saw a young woman coming the other way just weeping. I thought, I could either be the obnoxious old guy interfering in a private moment. Or she might be on the very edge where somebody's got to say something to her. I couldn't tell.

That’s where I think it’s good to look at your preset. Why do I want to rush over to her and reassure her? We each have a sort of ambient preset – for me, it’s a mild saviour complex – that might interfere with what the actual moment is telling us. In other words, I was in a particular place when I saw her. And maybe that was a good impulse. Or maybe it wasn't. It’s literally that beautiful phrase, my heart went out to her. So that's an ongoing truth--and that's just somebody walking by in an airport. But what to DO about it? That’s the question. So this leads us to the question of awareness, and of how fully the dataset that is “this moment” is coming through to us.

https://janeratcliffe.substack.com/.../the-kindness...

[thanks Rebecca Solnit]

[bookaddict24-7]

Reviews of the Week!

Books I’ve read so far in 2023!

Friend me on Goodreads here to follow my more up to date reading journey for the year!

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76. The Haunted Mask by R.L. Stine--⭐️⭐️⭐️

A fun little spooky read for kids who are sick and tired of always being the butt of every joke. THE HAUNTED MASK was one of those episodes of GOOSEBUMPS that I remember really being creeped out by back in the day.

As I read this book, I could imagine the scenes from that episode as the MC started to realize how dire her situation was.

These books may not be award winners, but I do enjoy that they have life lessons thrown in there with the creeptastic fun!

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77. Different Kinds of Fruit by Kyle Lukoff--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

DIFFERENT KINDS OF FRUIT was such a pure joy to read. Yes, there were instances where I thought the story was going to go one way, but it went in a direction that genuinely had me saying "whattttt" out loud.

I had a mother come into the bookstore I work at about a year ago looking for a specific kind of book. She told me that her middle grade daughter had come out to her and she was looking for sapphic books. She was surprised and overjoyed when she saw that there was a steadily growing collection of sapphic titles in the middle grade section. Her reaction and the fact that her daughter will be able to read a book with characters she can relate to is why I love seeing books like DIFFERENT KINDS OF FRUIT on our bookshelves.

This gem of a book follows a young girl as she learns who she is as she befriends the new student in her small town school. Her and her small class face several levels of discrimination and opposition when one of the parents vehemently fights against the "threat" of an LGBTQ+ event the kids want to put on and the progressive suggestions from the teacher regarding their sixth grade curriculum. Not only is this incredibly disheartening, it's painfully timely.

I loved the relationships in this, not just the friendship between the mc and her new friend. The parental relationships were incredible--sometimes even raw. There was just so much heart behind this book and I think it's a shame that it hasn't been hyped up more (if not for the representation, but for the relationships and connections alone.)

I think another important aspect of this book was the MC's journey to understanding who she is and who she wants to be. I wish younger me had a book with a character like her, because she was so honest and aware of what was happening around her. She fought alongside what she believed to be right and I think that while that is very clearly the sign of an adult writing a middle grade character, a younger reader may see her actions as that of a person that they might want to be like when they encounter similar or other levels of discrimination and abuse of power (adults wise).

This book offers a lot and I loved how educational it was and how it presented situations where it's okay to want to learn about a topic previously unknown to you, and how it might look when you see the different generations of the LGBTQ+ community and appreciating the different struggles and blockades the various generations faced.

I highly encourage you add this one to your TBR, you won't regret it!

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78. When it All Syncs Up by Maya Ameyaw--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

I received a copy via the publisher because I was the panel host for an event with the author. This did not affect my review at all.

WHEN IT ALL SYNCS UP was a beautiful portrayal of a young Black dancer who not only faces the difficult challenge of being a fantastically gifted dancer, but also the racism from her co-dancers, and the stresses of looking the "perfect" part and achieving it in a very dangerous way.

Aisha, the main character, is a girl who is living on the literal edge of her mental health. She decides she needs a change in her life when she is passed over another opportunity because of how she looks, and when a certain numbness crawls over her as the mounting stress threatens to overwhelm her. As a result, her new life change has her confronting some of the ghosts in her past, a best friend who wears his happy mask very well until he doesn't, and a gifted musician who may be the biggest support Aisha didn't know she needed.

I loved this one. From the descriptions of the gorgeous dances, to the emotional depth of all of these characters, I felt like I was watching Aisha dance through her character growth on the stage that was her book. I deeply enjoyed it, including the incredibly flawed and at-times dangerous relationships she has with a parent.

I think this book will be perfect for the teen bipoc readers who are either in dance themselves, or in an artistic field that has always catered to white people. I think it will also be a super important read for those with mental health concerns that want to see characters they might be able to relate to. I think this book is a beautiful reminder that you aren't as alone as you think and that sometimes, when done in a safe way, you just have to let yourself feel your emotions and the pain you're bottling inside.

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79. The Werewolf of Fever Swamp by R.L. Stine--⭐️⭐️⭐️

I'm trying to read the GOOSEBUMPS I've collected so far and this one is probably one of my favourites so far. I enjoyed the little twists and that ending! This one also felt more atmospheric and other books I've read in this series.

It was a simple read, but it was fun!

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80. The Sunbearer Trials by Aiden Thomas--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

If I were to simplify this, I would say that THE SUNBEARER TRIALS is like an LGBTQ+ HUNGER GAMES. If I weren't going to simplify it, I would say that this book is:

Incredible. This book is an adventure filled romp of a good ass time. There's tension, mystery, danger, and friendship so strong that it'll put hair on your chest. I'm kidding, but seriously, the MC's relationship with his best friend was so freaking pure. Even though they were put in a situation where one of them could die, they didn't even THINK about screwing the other over. It was such a pure thing that it was honestly one of my favourite things in this book.

Another thing was the tension between the MC and his ex-friend/obvious love interest. I love how Thomas handled their relationship and the slow build up of the trust that was broken years before. Watching them rebuild that connection was a joy, even if it was full of moments where I wanted to strangle one or the other for being so oblivious. I also appreciated the realistic idea of how one relationship is treated alongside this budding rebuild of an old and broken relationship.

Full of some pretty cool moments, a badass MC who is strong af in character, and a really neat world full of Spanish words that had my Latina heart giggling with joy, THE SUNBEARER TRIALS is a great adventure for those who already loved CEMETERY BOYS. Jump in and enjoy! I immediately need the sequel.....

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81. Ghost 19 by Simone St. James--⭐️⭐️.5

I really enjoyed other works by this author but was surprised to find that this one was just...okay? I don't know if it's because it's so short, or if it started in such a chaotic way that it didn't have the most likely intended effect of making me feel intrigued. Instead, it left me feeling confused and disoriented (although in writing this review, perhaps that was the intention?)

I did enjoy the atmospheric tension of horror and the heartbreaking ending, but I think I just wish this was longer. I would have loved to see the build up of terror in more than just a bite sized portion.

Also, this is set in the past, so some of the decisions this mc has made in her life is seen as morally questionable. This, I think, makes her character incredibly unreliable--and I actually LOVE that, but again, not enough of a build up for us to question her reliability.

Read this if you want a bite-sized bit of terror or if you need a quick read in October!

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Have you read any of these books? Let me know your thoughts!

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Happy reading!

[maddie-grove]

I really want to reread Trial by Journal by Kate Klise (2001), a middle-grade scrapbook novel about a sixth grader who is made to serve as a juror in a sequestered murder trial where the victim is her missing-presumed-dead classmate (because the State of Missouri has passed a law saying that trials for crimes concerning a child victim need to have a child juror), for the following reasons:

As a kid, I was like “okay, sure, obviously that law would probably not be passed but it’s possible.” And now, as an adult and a lawyer, I’m like could you IMAGINE.

The book is whimsical in a lot of ways—almost everyone has punny animal-based names, and there are plot points such as “the heroine befriends a flamboyant reclusive former Old Hollywood star” and “art fraud involving a gorilla”—but the premise is that a child has apparently been murdered and his family/friends/community are devastated, and also that the main suspect is not getting a fair trial because he is desperately poor and mentally disabled. In my memory, Klise pulled it off, but that’s a wild combo.

I’m really interested to see how the current events of the 1990s/very early 2000s influenced the book. Rhett Tyle is obviously kind of pre-politics Trump, right?

[fastfur07]

Ham Sandwich, Pt. 2

This is for one mutual. I channeled all my grossness into this piece, please enjoy it.

Soft, safe vore, semi-willing prey, foodplay (I suppose).

“How are you feeling?”

I slump into a couch, its military-grade foam not doing much for my back. With regard to how I’m feeling, there are a lot of things I’d like to say, but I hold my tongue, because I’m talking to an organiser and they might have a microphone somewhere. 

I’ve just spent the last ten minutes throwing up all eighty-six matzo balls I ate to place sixth in the featherweight division of the National Speed-eating Championships. Only the top three from each division go through to the International, but I knew I wasn’t going to get there. I never wanted to. Of course I want to eventually - speed eating feels like my life’s purpose - but it’s going to take a few more years before I’m ready to compete at that level. I pushed myself too hard.

“What time is it?” I groan, dodging the organiser’s question.

“12:40.”

My already angry stomach lurches again. “I– I have to go,” I cough, slowly getting to my feet and dashing down the hall. The heavyweight division begins at one o’clock. And he’s going to be in it.

I last saw Jeremiah when I arrived this morning. It had been a long journey into the city, and when I finally arrived at the hotel where the competition was going to be held, he was standing outside, almost like he was waiting for me. He winked when we made eye contact, and I hurried through the doors. I've managed to avoid him since then.

I despise him. He’s rude, he’s self-absorbed, and he ate me alive and got away with it. Sure, he did cough me up later, but I feared for my life. If he’s not a rival, I don’t know what is.

That’s why I have to see him stumble today. There has to be someone bigger and more shameless than Jeremiah in the heavyweights. He needs to know how it feels to be in my position. 

But I’m not going to let him see me. That would be more embarrassment than my weakened stomach can take.

---

It’s seven minutes to one, and I finally arrive at the indoor sports centre on the eighth floor of the hotel. I feel a twinge of envy, seeing how the place has been decked out: I and the rest of the featherweights had been crammed unceremoniously into the food court a few floors below. Just because we’re smaller, they think they can spare any expense? Oh well, perhaps one of those plastic chairs will collapse. That’d make me laugh, at least.

It shouldn’t be hard to hide from Jeremiah, considering the size of both me and the room. Even so, I creep up to the back row and crouch down in my seat. He’s at table number nine, looking as smug as ever, and now I realise I’ve never actually seen him eat. I’ve always been distracted. This could also be a chance for me to learn his strategy.

The food of choice for this event: pizza, cut into quarters. A cheer erupts from the stands as it’s wheeled in on trolleys and distributed around the tables. If I wasn’t feeling sick still, I’d be cheering for pizza too. Referees take their places behind competitors. Scoreboards blink to life on screens. I glance at Jeremiah - is he looking at me? I shrink back again. The crowd hushes. There’s a long pause. Then a single chime sounds from the speakers, and the contest is underway.

I won’t mince words - Jeremiah is a beast. He starts off by stacking slices and cramming them in his mouth two at a time, swallowing them easily. He seems so relaxed, like he’s not even competing. Like this is just how he normally eats pizza.

I can’t take my eyes off him. Something about his technique has me transfixed. He tries taking three slices at a time, and it doesn’t look like he’s struggling with that either. I try to look at anyone else, but he has me held. Just like he held me back in the stadium lounge, just before lifting me to his hungry jaws. 

Remembering being eaten is not helping me keep my composure. I can’t help but imagine myself in the place of those pizzas, my heart pounding harder with each one that disappears. Now he rolls one up and forces it in whole, and I swear I can see it making a bulge in his neck as he gulps it down. This is ridiculous; how is he so calm?! I think my face is going red, and I bury it in my hands, but even then I can hear the disgusting sounds of his gluttony. And the anxiety is creeping up on me that he might be planning to have me for dessert. 

Then, the finishing chime cuts through the noise, and I’m released. I sit up and look around. No one took notice, thank goodness. Then I look at the scoreboards, and my jaw hits the floor.

First place, Jeremiah Denver, with 72 slices.

Jeremiah stands up, the crowd roaring their approval. He won. I can’t believe it. Even though we weren’t directly competing, I still feel as crushed as I had back in the stadium. Someone approaches him with a microphone: great, another chance for him to be gross.

“Congratulations, Mr. Denver!” they say. “I think I speak for everyone here when I say, please tell us your secret!”

“Well, I’m not going to let up that easily,” he laughs, “but while you’re here, I’d like to put in a good word for Ham Lanolin, who you may have seen competing in the featherweights earlier today. He’s been a great inspiration for me.”

I jolt upwards as he says my name. Surely he doesn’t know I’m here.

“Ham, I know you’re watching this. Come see me after, we have lots to catch up on.” Jeremiah looks into a camera, his face looming over me from the screens. He grins, and licks his lips.

That’s too much for me to take. I get to my feet and half-run, half-stumble out of the room as Jeremiah shakes hands with the other heavyweights. He is planning to eat me again! I bolt for the elevator: I have to get out of here.

---

Within a few minutes I’ve shut myself into my allocated room and collapsed onto a bed. I just need to collect my things, and then I'll escape. I'm throwing my satchel over my shoulder when I hear a knock at the door. I freeze up.

"Go away," I strain.

"Mr. Lanolin?" says a voice that can only belong to an organiser. "You forgot your trophy."

I didn't know they gave out trophies for sixth place, but I suppose I need something to feel good about myself right about now. I pry my aching body off the bed, unlock the door, and slide it open - and standing in front of me is Jeremiah.

He's in the room before I can close the door. He wolf-and-seven-kids-ed me; how did I fall for that? I backpedal, bump into the bed, and scurry to the far wall. "Stay away from me! What do you want?"

He hands me a small trophy in the shape of a matzo ball. I retch, but was I wrong? Maybe he doesn't have any other reason to be here. Maybe he's even being friendly. "T-thanks," I manage, slipping it into my satchel.

Jeremiah sits down next to me. The bed frame bends, causing me to roll towards him. This gives him the opportunity to put a bulky arm around me, drawing me even closer. From this point of view he could be mistaken for a landmass.

"So how've you been, Ham?"

I'm a hair’s breadth from his belly, a small strip of which is poking out from beneath his tracksuit. It's giving off a bubbling sound that’s all too familiar, deep and volatile, quickening my pulse when it was just starting to slow down. 

"I, well, uh–" I fumble with my words. I try to push away, but his body is too soft; my hands just press in and I can't put any distance between us. Jeremiah laughs. "Nice going earlier today. Good to see you eating well."

"Thanks…" I mumble. "Congrats on winning. You were-- really, I mean, that was really something…"

"Aw, yeah, it was a bit of a challenge." He slaps his pizza-filled gut with his other hand, prompting a gurgle that sends vibrations through me. “I just wish we’d gone a little longer, though, I was just starting to get full.”

Oh my god, he’s not even full.

If I had any doubt about what he’s trying to do, it’s gone now. I know I can’t escape him; he’s probably honed his predatory instincts to the point that he could snatch me out of the air no matter what direction I run. I attempt to quell my fears, inhale the smell of pizza coming off him, and realise that I can at least go in on my own terms.

“L–” I begin, and a lump forms in my throat immediately. “Look, Jeremiah.”

“Hmm?”

“I can’t take it anymore.” It’s taking more effort to force out the words than it was to force in the food. “You’ve been hovering over me and keeping me on edge all day. I know what you’re going to do, but I just can’t stand not knowing when it’s gonna happen! So… can you just get it over with and… and eat me?”

Jeremiah cocks his head, playing dumb. “Eat you? You thought I was gonna eat you again? Well, aren’t you a little paranoid. Sure, if you insist.” 

The grin returns to his face as his giant hand scoops me up, and I do my best not to have a heart attack. I'm hoisted above him as he sizes me up, licking his lips again, and opens his vast mouth. I stare down into the abyss of his throat, hot breath washing over me, and feel like I'm about to be dropped into an active volcano. The impatient bubbling coming from within only adds to that image. Then I'm lowered, the pinkness getting larger until it's all I can see, and met by a slick tongue that wets my clothes almost immediately. I slide down it, leaning back to avoid the row of glistening teeth rushing past me, and feel my ankles be gripped by folds of muscle. Jeremiah's breath surrounds me now, a pungent mixture of something dull and fishy, something sharp and acidic, and pizza. Soon that stench is going to include a little taste of me. 

As my world goes dark and saliva soaks me to the core, I remind myself that I'm doing this the easy way, of my own volition, and that it was going to happen eventually.

---

I land into a slop of half-digested pizza, shuddering at the texture. I'm about to feel around for a wall when the walls find me instead, squishing me from all sides as Jeremiah looses a thunderous burp. I pout: he must have been saving that one up just for me. 

It's taking all my effort to stay upright, but I can’t sink down or I might go under. “Are you happy now?” I call, craning my neck.

“Sure, are you?” chuckles Jeremiah. He rises from the bed, his footsteps making me wobble up and down. “By the way, do you want a ride home? I think you might need it.”

I grit my teeth. Is it any wonder I hate this guy? He’s never satisfied. But I would appreciate a ride home: the public transport is hell at the moment. Not that it matters what I say. 

I press my back into the fleshy wall. I’ll get him for this eventually, but for now I can’t shake the feeling that this might be a tolerable experience - if it wasn’t so hot and dark and humid and noisy and acrid and, you know, crowded… 

The end

[triviareads]

On Culture, Diaspora, and Kantara

I watched Kantara (2022) over Thanksgiving after hearing about it for weeks from my family and friends, and I haven't been able to stop thinking about it since. It's a film that is particularly meaningful to me because my mother's side of the family hails from the region it was set in, Namely, Dakshina Kannada or the old South Canara in the state of Karnataka, India. This is where where bhoota kola is still practiced to this day.

The truth was, despite this movie being set in the land of my ancestors, I could relate very little on a physical level: These were rural villagers with minimal education living in a system of near-feudalism. I am.. not. Even the language was unfamiliar. My Kannada vocabulary can get me by when it comes to day-to-day activities, and it is insufficient if I want to consume Kannada media. In addition, because the dialect (or the accent) was true to the region, it made it more difficult for me to comprehend it. Neither my mother nor grandmother speak with the accent characteristic to the area (although they can if they want to communicate with locals), and even my father, who is not from the area but still from Karnataka, had to rely on subtitles.

There was also a matter of the culture itself. The thing about the aspects of the Dakshina Kannada culture shown in this film (kambala, boota kola) is that you'd only really be exposed to it if you lived in the area, or someone took the effort to purposefully educate you. That is because it is more of a folk culture. While I can say I am familiar with another local folk art, yakshagana (a form of dance-drama), that is because I grew up with stories of my great-grandfather, a noted yakshagana artist who brought his troop to the United States to tour. In addition, the practice of bhoota kola is not quite a part of the Hindu tradition I was raised in, specifically the Kannada Madhwa Brahmin tradition. I've read that bhoota kola and the notion of daivas is likely is a tradition practiced in the region long before Hinduism arrived.

To hear my mother matter-of-factly say that kambala (Buffalo races) and cock fights and bhoota kola occurred in her coastal village was startling. I suppose the reason she never mention it before was because she never actively went to kambalas (women from "good" families didn't go to events where there were drunk men; so she only saw the processions and parades before the actual event). As for the actual practice of bhoota kola, my grandmother admitted that when she was in around sixth grade, she snuck out of her house in the night to watch the bhoota kola. The old ancestral home in Bramhavara where she grew up was large enough for no one to notice the comings and goings of one girl. At a friend's house, she witnessed the ritual dance, and at some point, an offering of a live rooster was made to the daiva. The rooster's head was promptly snapped off its body. Eventually, my grandmother grew scared, and ran back home.

Regardless of how much I related to the villagers themselves, by the end of the film, I felt like I had a deeper understanding of my own cultural roots not only because of the film itself, but because of the greater context my family members were able to provide. But I also felt a certain amount of sadness. The thing is, I don't live where these rituals are practiced. In my lifetime, I have seen the Bramhavara house demolished, and relatives move away from their ancestral villages. My own parents moved across continents. I don't have the connection to the land that I imagine my ancestors did. At best, I feel fondness and an attachment to where I grew up, but there is no holiness in that, and a part of me wonders if I am missing out on something. I know migration is a natural part of human history, and perhaps this is the truth for any member of any diaspora, but still... I can't help but wonder.

When I finished watching Kantara, I came away entertained, thoughtful, and moved in equal measure. I felt a renewal of faith in a time I sorely needed it, not only in the classical sense, but all those holy protectors tied to the land.

[tomwambsmilk]

I was three years old when 9/11 happened and I wasn’t exactly following world events at the time so obviously when I was very little I had no awareness of what it was or what had happened. But I was homeschooled and EXTREMELY sheltered until grade 6 (like, I first learned what Google was in the sixth grade in 2008, I had no access to the internet, we didn’t watch the news, the only way I knew anything about the world was through random nonfiction kids library books my parents vetted). I started public school for the first time in Grade 6, and idk why but 9/11 didn’t come up that year. But the next year, on the anniversary of 9/11, one of the other teachers came in to talk to us about it and the scope of the tragedy etc etc I don’t remember too many details. Except. EXCEPT. He never once mentioned what 9/11 actually was. He just assumed everybody obviously knew. He did not mention planes explicitly, I think he only mentioned the world trade centre once, he mostly talked about Scale and Tragedy and everyone around me was nodding and I already got bullied for other things I was sheltered about so I didn’t want to raise my hand and go “Hey what is that. Like, what happened. What is 9/11.” I didn’t even realize 9/11 was a reference to the date, I thought it was a title of some sort?? Like 7/11. Like oh, there used to also be a 9/11 but then something happened to the world trade centre (which I still didn’t know what that was but I imagined it as a really big mall)

I don’t think I ACTUALLY learned what 9/11 was until Osama bin Laden died when I was in the 8th grade and I said I thought it was in poor taste everyone was celebrating this random guy’s death and my friends went “??????? Okay but he did 9/11?????” And I was like okay?? I don’t think closing a mall is a heinous enough crime to celebrate his death but whatever. And that’s when someone finally told me

[missravenhead]

I'm too poor to even afford to apply to UCLA... But I wrote the 4 required essays needed because for more than 2 years my naive-broke ass thought MAYBE I'd get a chance or a magical scholarship someday.... Which obviously I didn't.... Anyways.... Here are the essays for if anyone needs a little inspiration maybe... Although I'm pretty sure you are absolutely capable by yourself...

Every person has a creative side, and it can be expressed in many ways: problem solving, original and innovative thinking, and artistically, to name a few. Describe how you express your creative side.

I was probably in sixth grade when my language teacher told me to write more. My young self thought it was because the essay I wrote on my visit to the hills wasn't good enough. But I later found out she really just enjoyed reading my essays. When I was little, my parents involved me in multiple activities like music, dance, recitation, etc. While I may not actively be bad at any of them, what actually stood out and ended up being almost half of who I am today wasn't any of the things my guardians expected it to be. It was way into my teen years, when I realized my words on paper could express who I truly am way better than my voice. I've always been an avid reader. My Maa made sure literature was introduced into my life at a tender age. Growing up with books and living each day in a completely new world pushed me into a universe of fiction and imagination. During the pandemic in 2020-2021, when the entire human race was forced into complete lockdown, except our respected frontline workers obviously, I unknowingly hit the cannon event and joined Wattpad. It may sound clicheut I got to know and learn about a lot of authors who are actually really good at what they do and realized I too am capable of putting together my ideas and passion into one piece. Writing on that platform felt especially good when people began to actually reach out to me to share their feelings about my stories. It's safe to say, my readers' enthusiasm and hilarious comments are basically what keeps me going. The more I wrote, my works started getting bolder and began to touch stronger and controversial topics. I looked at my own articles and stories as an outsider and realized they are way more brazen than I ever only dreamt of being and everything I want to be remembered for.

What would you say is your greatest talent or skill? How have you developed and demonstrated that talent over time?

Does good humor count as a great skill? I hope it does, since cracking jokes has been my coping mechanism for a good while now. Being one of a thousand other victims of bullying on this planet, throughout elementary school years has left an invisible but strong impact on my extroverted soul. Maybe because of that phase of my life, involving people and making sure no one feels out of place comes so naturally to me. I mean, a little laugh could go a long way. Right? Also, sometimes it feels good being able to laugh at my own crisis in life, to laugh at myself. The silent girl in the corner of the class, or the shy aunt, or maybe the new boy at school, I always craved them to laugh, even at my own expense. It's okay even if none of them is my friend; I hope they hide their faces trying not to express that they find me funny.

I once started writing a blog series about all the causes my generation stands proudly for, such as, queer rights, sexual abuse, child harassment, anti-misogyny, anti-patriarchy, mental health awareness, etc. It continued for a little over a year, during which I realized how it's easier to reach a greater mass of readers and people by simply letting my instinctive thoughts win and open up my questionable sense of humor to flow with the body of the blog.

It's going to sound twisted but my best friend, Aditee and I had almost half an hour laughing session right after I literally had to stop her from killing herself. I can't say I can save people's lives by making them laugh, but I guess it might give them a tiny little reason to stay alive a little longer and actually get the therapy most of us, today, need. To be honest, I believe life would be way boring without someone to laugh with at all the questionable decisions we sometimes make.

Please describe how you have prepared for your intended major, including your readiness to succeed in your upper-division courses once you enroll at the university.

Nature and her inhabitants have always been of great interest to me since a really young age. Hence, taking up Biological Science in high school was a no brainer. To prepare myself, I took up the Zoology Major Course, Applied Entomology and Botany Minor courses in college. Research is a huge part of pursuing one's dreams. I was kept company by books beyond our dedicated syllabus, like: TELL ME WHY, NATURE, NAT GEO, etc. and the marine life and animal behavior has always been my favorite parts of the encyclopedia. There are always updates and new theories sprouting up every day, which we can't find in textbooks.

I never miss an opportunity to participate in field work and excursions to get hands-on experience with Mother Nature herself. The guide at the aquarium, near where I live, was kind enough to let me spend an entire day with him just so I could be with the fishes and aquatic animals. To be honest, in my opinion, the jellyfish and the tuatara are the most intriguing animals of aquatic and terrestrial habitats respectively. I first came to know about the existence of the later species while reading an adventure novel by Debashis Bandyopadhyay. I guess if I'm given the freedom, I can talk about tuatara, the third eyed wild lizard of New Zealand all day. I even chose to speak about them at our school's science exhibition in 8th grade. They are basically a living fossil, who hasn't evolved at all in over 250 million years. Aren't the wild lizards absolutely fascinating?

I almost drove the HOD of our Zoology department in college crazy, before she finally made an exception and let me join the senior students as a research intern.

I've gone out of my way to be utterly open to criticism and improvements to gain my dream place as a major in the University of California campus. I intend on giving my best, when I finally join the Bruins.

Beyond what has already been shared in your application, what do you believe makes you a strong candidate for admissions to the University of California?

"We show off our different scarlet letters, trust me, mine is better." - Taylor Swift.

I'm incredibly open to change and constructive criticism. I stand strongly for justice to all and being a published author, I am willing to use the power I've been blessed with to reach more people and make sure their voice reaches out even more. When I start in the UC, I plan to eagerly commit to making our already marvelous campus an even better and friendly place for foreign students like me and many more.

I believe in being my own self and encouraging everyone around me to be their own selves. I believe in my femininity. It's something I'm willing to cherish, nurture and thrive in. I always have and forever will keep influencing fellow women to unmask their femininity, as it's completely possible to show one's strength through softness, be powerful wearing a dress, and overall conquer our way through life with this rare asset. I hope to deliver this message to the world that feminism and women empowerment does not, in fact, mean to be a man or do a 'man's work'. Feminism, to me, is a religion which provides men and women with equal rights without having to change who I am.

In the 21st century, social media is an amazing platform to build communities and use as a mode of spreading awareness in an affordable way. Wildlife scientist and zoologist, Delia Owens' book 'WHERE THE CRAWDADS SING' inspired me immensely with her rich love and observation of nature and its habits. I know there are enough communities and social media groups already spreading scientific awareness for the preservation of animals and wildlife, still I was hoping to start something new, something different, when I finally join my fellow Bruins.

[naradluffy]

Day 1/30: 10 random things fact about you

I love reading non fiction after I got married. i wonder why. It seems I am becoming an adult? I can't imagine something anymore, so, fiction book is hard to be empathized anymore.

I have traveled to Japan in 2015 with only 500 USD (include the plane, hotels, food, transport).

In 2006, my sister was the one who chose Computer Science for my major and I was willing to study because I wanted to create an adventure game. Now it is 2024. I don't chase that dream anymore.

I have a collection of One Piece physical comics from 1-60.

I played volley ball when I was in sixth grade.

I played drum when I was in college and had two performances. We covered some rock bands.

I tried 5 KM running event twice. I can't imagine it now.

My favorite book right now is Atomic Habit. In the past, I also loved some fiction books like Sophie's World, Harry Potter, Indonesian literatures, and Manga.

I've traveled to Yogyakarta for the first time with my sister. She was late and need to run for the train. After arriving, we ride motorcycle at 5 pm to go to Magelang (2-3 hours away, because we didn't know it is far away). The travel was so scary because the street lamp was not available in some streets. It was a scary experiment!

I love web design a lot! And writing.

[ledenews]

Bridgeport Students Committed to Avoiding Drugs

Students at Bridgeport Exempted Village School District have taken to heart the message of staying clean. Members of the Belmont County Schools Staying Clean Club lined up at the concession stand for a chicken sandwich lunch April 3. The club aims to prevent drug use among the youth of Belmont County through outreach and incentives in the schools. The club also drug tests members. It operates under the juvenile court and Belmont County Juvenile and Probate Judge Al Davies. Guidance Counselor Vicki Falcone said more than 80 Bridgeport High School students – over half – participate in the Staying Clean Club. Middle School Principal Anne Haverty Lawson said 118 out of her 160 sixth through eighth graders are also members. The lunches were provided by the Hall of Fame Café. The cost was $10 each. Students also got an ice cream treat afterward from Jack’s Snacks. Falcone said such rewards are made possible through funds raised by events such as the Belmont County Schools Staying Clean Car, Bike and Truck Show. “We couldn’t do this without the generous donations of our community,” Falcone said. She added the club has benefitted school districts across the county. “I’m not sure there’s another county that has a program like this,” she said. “With the direction of Belmont County Juvenile Court, Judge Davies and their support, this program would not be the great success it is today.” David Carter, probation officer with the Belmont County Juvenile Court and secretary and treasurer of the club, said the Mental Health and Recovery Board of Belmont Harrison and Monroe Counties has also provided grants for catered lunches in all of Belmont County’s schools. He said Bridgeport students have been enthusiastic. “It’s going really good at Bridgeport. We tested them three times this year. Their numbers I think go up every year,” Carter said. “Roughly half the high school kids that are eligible to join have joined, which is definitely very impressive, and of the middle school I’d say we’re over half.” Carter complimented the outreach efforts of Haverty Lawson in encouraging students to join. He said the club is proving effective. “We definitely are seeing less drug and alcohol cases in juvenile court. I think that’s a trend we’ve seen for the last several years and it continues,” he said. “We’re not looking to funnel cases to juvenile court,” Carter said. “We rarely have a positive screen result, but if we do the parents are notified, that’s it. Charges aren’t filed. The school isn’t notified, resource officers aren’t notified. It goes to the parents and however the family decides to deal with that is up to them.” Falcone agreed that the purpose of the program was not to “catch” students who are using drugs, but to provide positive reinforcement to stay clean as part of a preventative effort. “It gives them a reason if they go off to parties and if they’re around something they might get involved in they can say: ‘I can’t. I might get drug tested.’ It kind of gives them an easy out,” she said. Haverty Lawson said club membership arms students against peer pressure. “Having raised couple of boys myself, I always wanted my boys to have a manner of saying ‘no’ to people asking them to do things they knew were not right,” she said. “I think the Staying Clean Club would have been great for my boys. “I think the peer pressure is amped up to degrees I oftentimes can’t imagine, and I think it is an excellent manner in which our kids have the ability to say: ‘No.’” She said this helps students avoid other habits such as vaping and smoking. She added seventh and eighth grade participants receive free passes to all athletic events. “If you make positive choices, you will have a positive outcome,” she said. Bridgeport High School Principal Jack Fisher is also supportive of his high school students who have joined the club. "I am very proud of our students in the Staying Clean Club, both high school and middle school students. It's great for our kids to be a part of this group and I'm also very appreciative to the juvenile courts and Hall of Fame catering for providing lunch to our students. It's really great." Alexander, sixth grader, has been a member of the Staying Clean Club for one year. He said he enjoys the activities and is listening to the encouragement to stay off drugs. “It’s an opportunity for me to do something,” he said. “I like it.” Eighth grader Myzhara also believes in the club’s message. “I think it’s important to be sober and not get involved in those things, because they do have negative consequences. They can affect your health and people around you,” she said. “From you being sober and not getting into drugs or alcohol or making better decisions.” She recommends other students participate in the club and spoke about fun activities such as a trip to a bowling alley. During fall, the Bridgeport students joined those from across the county to listen to motivational speaker Derek Clark at the Capitol Theatre in Wheeling. Myzhara said students can encounter challenging situations. “If you’re around people who do those kind of things, you shouldn’t judge them. You never know what’s going on with a person. Unless they’re pushing you and peer pressuring you to do that stuff, get away from that,” she said, reflecting on the difficulty of watching someone harm themselves. “You can’t really change somebody’s decision about that. They have to do it themselves. They have to want to get off of it.” Additional information about the club can be found at belmontcountyssc.org. Read the full article

[crystal-in-nagasaki]

a new, even smaller school

As some of the senior ALTs finished up their contracts and headed home in August and the new ALTs were rolling into town, our coordinators shuffled some of the ALT school assignments around to accommodate the changes. Since two of the leaving ALTs had cars and none of the new ALTs could drive yet, some of the farther schools had to be given to the senior ALTs with cars (aka me.) So in addition to my junior high school, big elementary school, and small mountain school, I was given one more school, the smallest in the whole district.

While my other small school has just about 30 students spread between 6 grades, my new school has just 19. There are two students in first grade, two students in second grade, four students in third grade, four students in fourth grade, six students in fifth grade and just one student in sixth grade. Like my other school, the classes are usually combined for instruction, so grades one and two, three and four, and five and six are combined. That means there are only three homeroom teachers, so with myself, other support teachers, and administrators, the total staff in the school numbers about 11 people. Teachers at bigger schools often have drinking parties together, starting with 50-60 people and then breaking up into smaller groups to go to other bars for after parties, but the one drinking party I attended at my new small school was just a single table in a pub of about 8 people. It was really cozy and allowed me to befriend my colleagues a lot easier.

Life at my new school is pretty much the same as my other small school. All of the students are energetic and friendly, and since there's so few of them, it was easy to learn all of their names and interests quickly. One interesting thing about this school is that the students eat lunch together in one room instead of the classrooms since there are so few students. This way all of the students and teachers can chat and eat lunch together like a big family every day.

Being the smallest school in the district, it's also the farthest from town. It takes me about thirty minutes to drive there from my apartment, and about half of that trip is through a big valley between the mountains, passing by a huge dam called Kayaze Dam. Almost all of the students live far from town and the school, so many of them take the public bus to school and others are driven by family members.

It's very quiet and peaceful at this mountain school, and the view is beautiful. Most of the time when I ask my students to tell me the weather, no one can answer the question because they can't see the sky out the windows because of the lush greenery of the mountains in the foreground. Here's some pictures I took of the view from the teacher's room and from directly behind the school:

Lastly, this school is really special because all of the students play taiko drums! The school has its own set of over twenty drums, and a specialist comes in every week to work with the students. They often perform at community and school events like sports day and ALT visit day.

As you can imagine, I was very excited to see that I had this hobby in common with them, and got to practice with them once. But I was so surprised to find how skilled the students are, even those in lower elementary! I couldn't keep up with them. But I'm lucky that their practice day is the same as my visit day, so I get to listen to them practice each week.

Unfortunately I will only be at this school for one year since my contract will end this August, but I'm so grateful to work with such sweet kids in such a unique environment. I already have such a close bond with them and am sad to have to say goodbye in a few months.

Anyway, I'm glad to share my experiences with my new school here. I hope you enjoyed hearing a bit about it! Thanks for reading <3