#i have no idea who took this photo and i have been scouring the internet reverse image search tagged photos you name it.....nothing

[stfrancisprayer]

HAAAAAAAAARK!!! hark triton, HARK!! DEXTER FLETCHER photographed in 2024

[btsgotjams27]

things you don't know | jjk

summary: it’s been seven years since you last saw the boy that broke your heart. after moving back home, you try everything you can to avoid seeing him around town, but destiny has a wicked way of doing the opposite.

✨ title: things you don't know | one shot ✨ pairing: jungkook x f!reader | ✨ rating: M/17+ ✨ genre/au: angst | ex best friends!au | ✨ word count: 4.3k ✨ warnings: language, drinking, light kisses, miscommunication, reader jokes about unaliving her other best friend, mentions of throwing up ✨ prompt: “i thought i’d never see you again” ✨ a/n: heyoooo. so this is loosely based off a friendship i had in high school and in case you're wondering (irl) i haven't seen this man in over 17 years (oh gawd i'm old). anyway, thank you to @shina913 for being my beta.

✨ mini-series masterlist ✨

You were a fool to believe nothing could tear you and your best friend apart. Just like in the movies you'd watch for hours, you realized you were not the main character; he was. You were only part of the supporting cast, the best friend–not the one he wanted. Someone else had been occupying his mind, his thoughts, and you guessed you weren't privy to know all of him.

You wondered if you became the villain in his story. Were you the other woman? How could you have known if he never told you? He was your best friend. The one you shared everything with–your hopes, dreams, and even the dumbest little details of your life.

And maybe you expected too much. Maybe you had built a world of sunshine and rainbows and believed no storms could ever weather through. Maybe you cared too much, thinking he felt the same.

But at long last, you had become the girl jealous of Josie–the person who took away your best friend.

The city you lived in had grown vastly the last time you were here. Multiple lanes were added to the highways, and fields of land were cleared out for new homes, shops, and restaurants to try. Though the only thing on your mind was not bumping into him.

His was the only face you didn't want to run into in a city that felt familiar and unfamiliar. It felt silly. You're a grown woman with a car and an apartment–had bills to pay, and running into one person shouldn't haunt you as it did.

You might have done some detective work, going through old high school friends lists on Facebook and Instagram, lurking to see if he would show up. But as you suspected, he didn't exist on social media, so your chances of seeing him increased in your weird little mind.

The old hangout places were on your no-go list. Remember, you're trying to avoid him. He has not been on your mind every waking second, minute and hour. You weren't wondering how he was doing or if he was okay. He didn't deserve to occupy your mind, take all your energy.

But if you were to bump into him, you had a monologue ready to tell him how he had fucked up your mind, spiked all your insecurities, and hoped he and his stupid little girlfriend lived unhappily ever after. He deserved that, at least.

"Did you see Lillie's Instagram post? The one where a bunch of them were out celebrating Josie's birthday?" Lana asked, sipping on her iced vanilla latte. Lana was another high school best friend who didn't stomp all over your heart.

And regarding Lillie's post, it was hard not to see it when everyone you knew was tagged. Some things never change, you guessed. The same circle of friends, the same drama, the same gossip, but then again, you were sitting with one of your oldest friends.

"Yeah, I saw it."

And you also noticed how Jungkook wasn't in any photos. After doing your detective research and scouring through the internet. He was a ghost, not even showing up in tagged photos. You were hoping to get a glimpse of him in the background, but you hadn't seen a picture of him in years, so you had no idea if he had grown into that big 'ol nose of his or if he had gotten those piercings and tattoos he's always wanted. There was no trace of this man, not even in Josie's pictures.

Last you heard, they were still together, and you always rolled your eyes hard, remembering what Jeon Jungkook did to you. Didn't even have the fucking balls to say it to your face, but in a letter instead.

You suspected it was all Josie's fault. Probably afraid you'd steal him away, or he'd prefer to hang out with you. And you understood, he wasn't your boyfriend or anything, just a friend. Ex-best friend, that is. So you supposed any girl that did like Jungkook would be intimidated by your friendship.

"Have you seen Jungkook at all?"

Lana knew what went down–dropping you like a fly, like you didn't exist. She had teased you like a madwoman because you were crushing hard on his friend, Jimin, and somehow ended up befriending Jungkook.

"Nope," you said flatly.

"So, you know how we always talk about Jungkook being untraceable? I think I found him," she said, pulling out her phone.

Your jaw clenched before huffing out a breath. Lana liked to poke the bear when it came to Jungkook. You knew it wasn't intentional, and there was a part that held onto those painful memories because you weren't over what he did to you. Countless nights of questions and if you could've done anything to save your friendship. Wondering what you did wrong and why he picked Josie instead of you. You thought he had feelings and just didn’t want to act on it.

Lana slid the phone over, her two fingers zooming in on a brightened photo. "It's definitely Jungkook," she pointed to a figure in the background.

You narrowed your eyes as she moved the photo around. Your heart skipped a beat. You'd recognize that nose anywhere. It was him. He wasn't a ghost. There was actual evidence that he existed.

"I searched for more photos, but nothing else came up."

You chuckled. "Of course not. Jeon Jungkook doesn't exist on social media. It was never his thing anyway. It was always Josie who liked the attention."

"As a couple, they make no sense to me. What does he see in her anyway?" Lana pondered, sucking up the last of her latte.

Josie was popular and pretty and did every extracurricular activity known to man. Jungkook was quite the opposite: introverted, kept to himself, played games day and night, yet somehow they still ended up together.

"I don't know. Maybe she has a great personality or something," you answered.

She had everything and could’ve had anyone in the senior class, and something always bothered you about their relationship. You just couldn’t put your finger on it.

Lana could see your despair and decided to change the subject. "What are you doing tonight? Jimin is having a small party and was super excited when I told him you moved back."

You narrowed your eyes, your lips thinned. "What are we? In high school again?"

"Come on, babe. It'll be just like old times. I'll even pick you up. I know you hate driving."

It's only been a week since you've moved back. You didn't even know where all of your cute clothes were. "I have nothing to wear." It was the best excuse you could come up with at the moment.

"I got you. Don't worry about it!"

Fuck—you should've opted for a different excuse.

"I thought you said this was a small party," you said, wearing a dress that was barely covering your ass. You'd get Lana back for putting you in the tightest dress.

"Trust me, this is small." Lana hooked her arm with yours, dragging you to the kitchen, where Jimin poured several soju bottles and sodas into a pitcher. It was quite the concoction.

“How can he afford this place?” you whispered as you stared at the fancy marbled island and large commercial refrigerator.

Lana shrugged. “I don’t think he lives by himself. Probably has roommates or something.”

"Ladies! You're here!" Jimin squealed, setting down the soju bottle. He hugged Lana before greeting you warmly. "Oh—it's so good to see you!" He wrapped his arms around you, moving you from side to side, digging his chin into your shoulder.

"It's good to see you too, Jimin. You're, um, still quite the host." His parties were all the rage in high school, and now that you look back, you're unsure what you saw in Jimin. He was a good guy, a great dancer, but he partied too much for your taste. Maybe you were shallow and just liked him for his looks.

"I have a reputation to uphold." He wiggled his eyebrows, handing you a shot glass. "I call this little drink 'Soju Sunrise.'" He held his glass, waiting for you to clink it against his.

"Here goes nothing." The glasses clack together, and the mixed liquids go down your throat as smooth as silk. Surprisingly, the cocktail is rather tasty, and you hold out your glass for another round.

"Yes! That's my girl!"

After multiple rounds of Jimin's Soju Sunrise, your body loosened up along with your tongue, being quite the chatterbox to everyone hanging around. The alcohol coursing through your veins made catching up with old friends less dull. Though you wish you could've had a sign plastered to you stating your job, why you were back, and what you've been up to. It would've made your life simpler.

As you exited the bathroom, Lana immediately pulled you into an empty bedroom, closing the door behind her.

"What the fuck, Lana?"

"He's here!" she exclaimed out of breath.

"Who?" Confusion sets on your face.

“He-who-must-not-be-named!”

"Voldemort?" You raised a brow, pouting your lips together.

She struck your head. You scowled, rubbing the spot. Still confused, you think back to the crowded room.

A lightbulb finally goes off. You blame the Soju Sunrise for making you an airhead. "You've got to be kidding me."

"She's here too."

Oh, how you'd rather be clawing your eyes out right now. It would hurt less than facing Jungkook and Josie after all these years.

You had your little monologue prepared and ready to go, but you didn't think you'd have to recite it. Did you even remember what you wanted to say?

You looked around the room and sprinted when you saw a window. Your hands fumbled with the lock, but it was too hard to open.

"What are you doing?" Lana asked, her eyebrows knitted together, watching you struggle.

"I'm gonna climb out the window." It was the only sensible thing to do.

"You're so fucking dramatic."

"It's the only way to avoid them."

Lana grabbed your arms and made you look at her. "You are a grown-ass woman. Put on your big girl panties and walk out that door with your head held high."

"But I don't wanna," you pout. "And I'm wearing granny panties." You lowered your head, staring at your dress, picturing the blush-colored panties with a little bow on the front.

"Granny panties with this dress?"

"What? I couldn't find other ones and I like full coverage." Curse you for not unpacking like you should've been doing.

"Would've been better if you went commando."

"Lana! I have some dignity."

"Do you, though? You won't even leave this room and face the one person who broke your heart."

"Thanks, Lana," you said flatly.

"You're welcome!" she smiled, shaking your body. "Come on. You can do this. I believe in you." You rolled your eyes, staring blankly at her. She scanned you from head to toe, then back up to your chest. "Sweetie, we gotta make sure your tits are stunning." She dragged down the top of the dress, ensuring the swells of your breasts were peeking through.

"Lana, I'm not trying to seduce the guy." Okay—maybe you developed a crush on him, but it's not like you were going to make a move, he had a girlfriend for fuck’s sake.

"Yeah, who cares? We're trying to make Josie jealous."

"This is so high school," you comment, digging through your purse for your lipstick.

"Your point is?" Lana blinked.

You huffed. Okay—fine. If this were the only time you'd see Jeon Jungkook and Kim Josie, then fuck it. You could pretend everything was great for five minutes. Your hand went underneath your dress, tugging off your granny panties and tossing them on the ground.

"Holy shit—going commando too?" Lana squealed and clapped excitedly.

Hiking your dress up just a smidge, you were ready to smile and lie through whatever this dreaded conversation would bring up, probably old feelings of hurt and regret.

You hooked your arm through Lana's, with your shoulders back and head held high. This was it. After all this time, you would face the son-of-a-bitch who broke your heart and the cruel witch who took him away.

You had class—at least, you hoped you did. So, you'd play it cool, be calm and collected. Pretend like you had your shit together.

That is until you turned the corner and immediately spotted them snuggled up in the corner. Josie looked like a lovesick puppy all over him. Jungkook, not so much.

You clutched Lana's arm tighter and came to a halt. You repeated your short monologue in your brain from the bedroom to the living room, but it was as if your mind had wiped everything and your brain's connectors were short-circuiting.

Your eyes glistened as you watched the two. Josie sat on his lap, arms wrapped around his neck, kissing him. Your lower lip quivered, and your stomach sank. You weren't sure if you needed to hurl because of them or because of the soju. Perhaps both.

Jungkook pulled away from her grasp, seemingly annoyed by her show of affection. As soon as he turned away from her, his eyes landed on you.

You flashed a small smile and a wave of your hand. Who knew seeing Jungkook would make you feel the complete opposite of the narrative you had created? In your head, he was a heartless best friend who left you for a wicked witch, but here he was in the flesh and was just that big-nosed, doe-eyed boy whom you shared everything with. You missed him so much and wanted to catch up on life like no time had passed.

Lana turned to you. "Hey, what happened to the bad bitch persona? Aren't you gonna tell him off?"

"I'm so stupid, Lana. I can't do this." So much anger had been building up within the last seven years, but underneath that anger was just a girl who was heartbroken.

Lana nudged you in the ribs. You two watched as he pushed Josie off his lap, causing her to frown. You attempted to let go, but she pulled you in as Jungkook beelined toward you.

"Oh, my god! Jeon Jungkook in the flesh?" Lana said in a dramatic tone. "You do exist! I can't believe it. Well, I'm going to find myself another drink! Have fun catching up with your bestie!" She punched Jungkook's shoulder hard, and he scowled and flinched, massaging the spot.

You pressed your lips together, unsure what to say to him. It's been seven years since you last saw him. Once you graduated from high school, you were out of each other's hair. You were off to college a few hours away, and he stayed in town to attend a local university.

Jungkook cut off all forms of communication. It was like your friendship ceased to exist, which hurt you the most. The last thing you received from him was a measly little letter explaining that he was with Josie and that she didn't want you coming in between their relationship.

You couldn't understand why Jungkook couldn't just talk to you. Josie was never mentioned in conversations, nor did you see him with her, so it felt out of left field. If Jungkook told you he liked someone, you'd never stand in the way of his happiness. You thought he knew you better than that, but maybe you were wrong. Maybe you didn't know each other at all.

"I thought I'd never see you again," Jungkook said, the corners of his mouth curving into a warm smile.

You only paid attention to the glow-up Jungkook had. He did get the lip piercings he wanted, along with the tattoos. You could see them peeking through underneath his gray hoodie hanging off his shoulder. The white tank top defined his taut chest, letting you know he liked to work out. His damp hair curled in all the right places against the nape of his neck and his forehead. The silver chain adorning his neck looked pretty enough to tug on.

"You look great, by the way," Jungkook added, breaking you out of your daze.

"Oh, thanks. So do you." You manage to squeak out finally; then you remember how provocative you looked in your dress compared to sweet, innocent, looking Josie in her pink floral sundress, who was making their way toward you.

"Jungkook, can we please get a drink?" Josie whined, giving you the once over before latching onto Jungkook like the leech she was.

"You remember—"

Josie interrupted, "Yeah–don't remind me. Can we go?"

Josie stormed off toward the kitchen, leaving you and Jungkook behind. Did he have any say in their relationship, or did she tug him around like a puppy on a short leash?

You're stunned but not surprised by her remark. Once a bitch, always a bitch.

Turning your attention back to him, you realize you have nothing to say. The scars from this friendship were carved deeply into your heart; not even the monologue you rehearsed could dissipate the pain he caused.

"I—I gotta go," you said, taking off toward the bedroom because you couldn't fucking leave your underwear on a random stranger's floor. You had to save whatever dignity you had left.

"Wait—" He tried to grab your attention and followed you, walking through the hallway toward a room. He watched you go from one end of the room to the other, searching for something. "What are you doing in my room?"

You straighten your posture, slowly turning to him. "This is your room?"

"Yeah, Jimin and I share this place along with another friend.”

Oh, now you were going to fucking kill Lana. She knew. She must have! That's why she wanted to bring you here. And out of all the rooms, you had to pick Jeon Jungkook’s to leave your underwear in?

"Great," you said in exasperation. You turned back around in search of your panties. "Where the fuck is it?" It could only be in so many places.

"Where's what?"

You got down on your hands and knees, tugging your dress down, looking underneath the bed for your granny panties. "Nothing," you grumbled. "Fuck it. Forget it." You stood, walking past Jungkook. He could have your underwear as a keepsake, you suppose.

"Hey—" He gripped your arm. "Come on. This is how you greet me after all this time?"

You scoffed, glaring at him. "You're fucking kidding me, right? You're lucky I'm even speaking to you. You don't even deserve that."

He lets go of your arm. "We kind of ended on a sour note, but it wasn't my fault."

He couldn't see it, but smoke was fuming from your ears, and you wished your death glare could burn through him and maybe even through Josie. How fucking dare he put all the blame on you? And for what exactly? You might add that you did nothing but be his friend, and he ghosted you like you meant nothing to him.

"So it's my fault?" You assumed he was placing the blame on you. "How is it my fault? Please enlighten me, Jungkook."

He quieted down, cowering his head.

"You showed up holding hands with Josie, then proceeded to not talk to me like a human being and instead wrote me a fucking letter like the coward you are. A letter, for fucks sake. You could've had the common decency to say it to my face."

You walked out of language class, and there they were, hand in hand as you idly watched from behind. And he didn’t even hand you the letter. He had stuffed it in your locker.

Your words took him aback. His recount of how everything went down was different from yours. "I'm sorry," he said. His eyes flicked to yours before looking away.

"Well, it's too fucking late for apologies."

Jungkook called out to you, and you didn't look back, storming away from him. You passed by Lana, telling her you were leaving and that you'd talk to her later.

You ran out the front door, stopping at the sidewalk's edge, remembering that Lana drove. "Fuck," you grumbled, pulling out your phone to grab an Uber.

You were stupid to think Jeon Jungkook wouldn't affect you after all these years. Maybe it's because you haven't dealt with feeling abandoned by him. Maybe you wished you did more for your friendship. Whatever the reason, you knew moving back wasn't a good idea because you’d have to deal with this.

"Hey!" Jungkook called out. You looked over your shoulder and continued walking. He ran in front of you to grab your attention. "Can you talk to me?" he asked, stuffing his hands in the pocket of his hoodie.

"Why don't you fucking write me a letter? Since you're so good at that," you mocked as you shuffled around him. He was a shitty writer who could barely pass Creative Writing without your help.

"That's not fair."

You scoffed, stopping in your tracks to turn back to him. "Run back to your little girlfriend. Don’t you have to get her approval first before talking to me?"

"She's not my girlfriend."

You tut. "Yeah–okay." That was hard to believe, considering she was all over him.

"She's not. We haven't been together for a while now," Jungkook explained.

"You looked pretty cozy earlier."

Jungkook looks at the ground, kicking around an invisible rock. "It's complicated."

"That's great, Jungkook, but I really don't want to hear about your relationship problems. Good luck with Josie and in life. You two deserve each other." You pulled out your phone to see if the Uber was arriving.

Crossing your arms, you walked back toward Jimin's place. You wish you pinned the pick-up location somewhere else, but you'd have to endure his presence longer.

Jungkook followed, giving you some space, stopping when you did. His eyes raked over you. His dimple appeared and disappeared as he licked his lips and chewed on the inside of his cheek.

"When you got your acceptance letter to college, and you decided you were leaving, you didn't bother to ask about what I thought," he said, hands still in his pocket, staring at the ground. Your eyes flickered to him before looking away. He softly chuckled, "I thought to myself, what would I do without my best friend? I had nothing going for me, didn't even know what I wanted to do—still don't know what I want to do. And as much as you make me out to be the bad guy in your story, there are a lot of things you don't know."

You turned away from him as your eyes began to well up. You didn't want to cry before him, rehashing things from so long ago. You let out a shaky breath, trying to contain your emotions.

"Why didn't you say anything?" you asked, using the back of your hand to wipe away the snot threatening to fall.

He shrugged. "I don't know. I would never want to keep you from something that made you happy," he admitted.

You were always open with each other, so you're unsure why this one thing made it seem like he couldn't be honest with you.

"Tell me one thing."

Jungkook hummed.

"Why didn't you tell me about Josie?" It was the one question that lingered since you received his letter.

His lips thinned. "Honestly?" You nodded. "It all happened so quickly. Jimin was throwing a party that night when you told me about going off to college, and I was in my head, overthinking everything. And Josie was there, being sweet and comforting me, and I don't know what came over me. I just kissed her to make myself feel better. Then, the next day at school, she took my hand and told everyone we were together."

"So, let me get this straight? I told you I'm going off to college. You get upset, kiss Josie because you were mad about me leaving, and then end up in a relationship with her?"

"Well, when you put it that way, it sounds ridiculous."

You turned to him, hitting him across the chest several times. He held his hands up to block you. "Because Jeon Jungkook, it is ridiculous! God–you're such—a—" you groaned. "Do you know how much you hurt me? We could've avoided all this if you had just talked to me. Life could've been different for us. You could've come with me, and then we could've been together."

"Together?" He stared at you with his starry brown eyes.

"Yes, you dummy! I liked you, if you couldn't tell. I was going to tell you, but then you and Josie happened, and well, you know how the rest of the story goes."

You closed your eyes and let out a long-awaited breath. It felt like a weight was lifted off your shoulders, getting all this out in the open. You weren't expecting Jungkook to do anything to make you feel better, but at least he could hear what you wanted to say after all these years.

Your uber pulled up and you opened the door, holding onto it as you looked at Jungkook. A glimpse of the boy you once knew still lingered in his eyes. If you could go back and do it all over again, you would've fought harder for him, fought for what the two of you had. It was too precious of a friendship to let go just like that. Unfortunately, life didn't work that way.

There were no forms of time travel or alternate dimensions where the two of you could've lived happily ever after, and there were only the choices you made here and now.

"Bye, Jungkook."

✨ read part two | read part three ✨

[mikeywayarchive]

Interview transcript under the cut:

WALK THIS WAY!

WHEN MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE SPLIT UP LAST YEAR, MILLIONS OF FANS MOURNED. BUT NONE MORE SO THAN MIKEY WAY. HE TELLS MARK SUTHERLAND HOW, AFTER 12 MONTHS OF SOUL-SEARCHING, HE'S FINALLY READY TO MOVE ON WITH HIS NEW BAND, ELECTRIC CENTURY....

PHOTOS: ANDREW LIPOVSKY

March 2013. As the world reeled from My Chemical Romance's split, one man sat in his house, remembering the good times.

He thought of the great gigs MCR played at places such as Madison Square Garden and Reading Festival, and sought out Youtube footage of those shows. He recalled their trips to exotic locations such as Vietnam, and scoured the internet for photographs. And he listened to their music, marvelling at the anthems that shaped a generation of outsiders into an all-conquering movement.

All around the world, fans were doing much the same. But this man was no distraught MRmy foot soldier: he was the band's bass player, Mikey Way. And he was finding the split as hard to cope with as anyone.

"I was going through it," admits Mikey, a year on. "It was sad, like the passing of a family member. But, over time, I got great joy and pleasure from reflecting. I was able to truly put on some songs and be like, 'Wow, we really did something. We cracked the heavens.'" Thankfully, the Mikey we meet today is no battered and bitter ex-band member. He has a new musical project - Electric Century, formed with his old friend, David Debiak - that he can't wait for the world to hear. But, more importantly, he has a new attitude.

"With MCR, we were so busy," he says, a dry cough the only hint of nerves. "I was never able to stop and smell the roses, or evaluate myself completely. That's what this past year was all about. I was able to dig deep inside myself and become the man I always wanted to be. I'm not that pissed-off kid in nerd glasses standing at the back anymore. I'm confident in myself; I'm confident in my ability. Things are different."

Things could have been even more different if Mikey and David had formed a band on the first day they met. They nearly did; Mikey had become a fan of David's band, Sleep Station, after being introduced to their music via David's brother, Marc, who worked in the office of local indie record label Eyeball Records.

"I fell in love," says Mikey. "I was like, This dude has a voice of gold, melodies you wish you wrote and songs that speak to your soul.'" When the pair eventually met at a barbecue, they instantly bonded over their love of 1980s British synthpop miserablism. At the time, David was looking for a bass player, so he asked Mikey if he'd be interested.

"He said, Well, I can't right now 'cause I just started this band with my brother...'" laughs David. "Needless to say, it was a good choice!" Nonetheless, the idea that they should work together refused to go away. Both bands shared a rehearsal space and signed to Eyeball, playing local shows together. And, even as Mikey's "band with his brother" turned into the biggest thing to come out of New Jersey since Bon Jovi's hair, Mikey was determined that, one day, the pair would collaborate.

The Electric Century concept was formulated one drunken night in a bar on David's birthday. New Order's Bizarre Love Triangle came on the jukebox, and Mikey told him: "We have to do this; we have to make this music that we both share so much interest in."

Even at the peak of MCR mania, the idea persisted. When Mikey was working on what turned out to be MCR's swan song, 2010's Danger Days: The True Lives Of The Fabulous Killjoys, the pair got as far as bouncing ideas around during Mikey's downtime. But, as soon as the MCR machine cranked back into gear; Mikey didn't have any downtime.

So, in the end, it took the demise of My Chem to make Electric Century happen, 12-odd years after they first discussed forming a band. Mikey says he came up with the name even earlier, in his seventh grade science class, when the phrase was used to illustrate the impact electricity had on 20th century life. "The name is about new beginnings and change in general," says Mikey. And change is what Mikey needed in the aftermath of MCR's split. He was determined to keep making music, so he wrote songs and practiced bass and guitar every day. All he needed was an outlet. So he decided to give David a call.

Their early sessions together may not have been particularly productive - one weeklong stint in Los Angeles resulted in precisely zero songs being written, while Mikey jokes they "ate pancakes for three months straight" - but still proved invaluable in building their understanding. Mikey goes so far as to compare their songwriting relationship to the one he had with his brother, Gerard, in MCR. "I lucked out on both occasions," he says, with his slightly goofy laugh.

But the music they were producing was very different to the music he made with Gerard. Mikey ditched bass in favour of playing guitar (ex-Stars In Stereo man Justin Siegel plays bass on the album), but says Electric Century's music is as much inspired by Depeche Mode, New Order and the Britpop of Suede and Pulp as it is by punk rock.

"My mantra's always been, 'Never go backwards, always go forwards,'" explains Mikey. "This is something I've always wanted to do. I mean, I wanted to do MCR, but it was like my brain being split in half. I wanted to do MCR, I want to do Electric Century, but they should never live at the same time."

And so the album's been taking shape at a studio in upstate New York, with producer D. James Goodwin. It's still a work-in-progress, but songs are coming thick and fast, written in partnership by Mikey and David, with the former perhaps shaping more of the music and the latter coming up with the lion's share of the lyrics. Again, Mikey likens the songwriting process to MCR, where "we were all in front of a woodpile throwing matches and whoever got the biggest flame, the best idea stuck". For now, David is handling vocals, although Mikey may realise his ambition to sing lead on some songs.

What's notable is how Mikey talks with unbridled enthusiasm about the possibilities opening up before him. So the album doesn't have a title yet, nor do they have a label, but Mikey hopes to get it out for late summer. Live gigs should come before then, and the UK is high on their list of priority destinations.

For now, all we have to go on is I Lied, which debuted online in February. It's not clear yet how typical of EC's album it might be ("It's part of the kaleidoscope," says Mikey, obliquely), but what is certain is that, behind its uplifting electronica, David's lyrics deal with addiction and loss - something Mikey can't help but relate to.

"It screams to me," he says. "For more than half my life, I was addicted to substances. It's very much a song about the struggle to come out the other end. It's something I always struggle with and, even in recovery, you never forget. It's an important part of you, but it's all about losing yourself and then finding yourself again.”And, whatever's happening elsewhere in Mikey's life, creatively he believes he's found himself again in Electric Century.

"The only rules are, there are no rules," he grins. "It's liberating. When MCR was really exploding, I wasn't mentally in the place I wanted to be. I was always dealing with inner demons, uncomfortable in my own skin and unsure of myself. I don't feel like that person anymore. I've grown volumes and I'm ready to take on the world again."

Back in March 2013, however, Mikey felt like the world was taking him on. And, frankly, the world was winning. In January of that year, it had been said - via the modern methods of a shit-stirring, rapidly-deleted Tumbir account and a (possibly hacked) Instagram account - that Mikey had started a relationship with a model and MCR fan called Sarah Cantergiani, while still married to his wife, Alicia. Those weighing in amid the online furore included Gerard Way's wife, Lindsey, a close friend of Alicia's.

So, when the MCR split was announced mere weeks later, anyone looking for a convenient scapegoat found it in Mikey. He eventually issued a statement insisting that both his marriage and the band were over before his new relationship started, and that the Tumbir account was set up by "a friend of my ex" to make him and his new girlfriend "look like horrible people.”

He's still with Sarah and doesn't want to rake over the specifics of what went on, but does stress their relationship "was blamed for the break-up of the band, which was the farthest thing from the truth.”

"They jumped the gun," he says today of his detractors. "It was a timing thing - it all coincided. It made [the end of MCR] extremely difficult, but what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. It made me realise a lot of things about myself and other people. And it made me value love and friendship."

And the friendships he values the most remain those with his former bandmates. He still talks to them regularly and declares himself "super-pumped" about their various new ventures. In return, Gerard, Ray Toro and Frank lero have been "really supportive and excited" about Electric Century, with Gerard offering tips on coping with the limelight to his more fragile brother.

"We've been giving each other advice since we were in the womb," laughs Mikey. "We try to keep things unbusinesslike when we talk, but we'll give each other pointers all the time. When MCR really exploded, l'd applaud him every day. I don't know how he did it. He had everything coming at him and he handled it perfectly." Mikey, by his own admission, has not always dealt with the stresses of 21st century rock stardom so calmly (he had a breakdown during the recording of 2006's The Black Parade). But he hopes the fans that followed MCR's every move will also be interested in Electric Century. He expected "a backlash" when I Lied was unveiled, but says he hasn't "seen anything negative, which is insane in the era of the hater.”

"That pissed-off, hurt kid that's inside of all of us that we were singing to," he says. "They're all coming out the other end, so it's cool to continue the ride with them." But can Electric Century compete with the "milestone-driven" MCR in success terms?

"That's up to the world to decide," says Mikey. "It'll be successful internally and creatively to me. [Whether] it's successful in the other respect is up to the fates. I know we're going to connect with people." And, for those still hung up on his former band, Mikey has a clear message.

"We reached the end of the road," he shrugs. "You never want to overstay your welcome and overextend yourself, and we put the perfect amount into the world. We even put a nice bow on it with Fake Your Death. We said everything we needed to say, and it's a beautiful way to end it." And though he'll never forget those days - even if he may need the odd reminder ("There's some stuff where I'm like, 'Did that even happen, or did I dream that?' he laughs) - he's finally shutting down his computer, coming out of the bedroom and embracing the future, and he hopes the MCRmy will do the same.

The Black Parade is dead. Long live the Electric Century.

ELECTRIC CENTURY'S DEBUT SINGLE, I LIED, IS AVAILABLE NOW, SEE FACEBOOK.COM/ELECTRICCENTURY

SONGS OF THE CENTURY

TAKE A TOUR AROUND

ELECTRIC CENTURY'S

FORTHCOMING MATERIAL...

• RIGHT THERE

Mikey: "It has a brooding, Joy Division intro - really drudging and dismal - that leads into a cascading, optimistic chorus."

David: "Mikey started playing and I was like, 'Don't stop - just keep playing it over and over again.' I wrote the lyrics and the chorus and we recorded it the next day."

• HEY LACEY

Mikey: "It sounds completely massive to me in every which way. It’s got a lot of heart.”

David: "It's a song about a guy who has another woman involved in his life other than the person he's with. I guess he's speaking to her in the song."

• LET YOU GET AWAY

Mikey: "The chorus goes: ‘Baby I was crazy to let you get away’."

David: "There's a cool underlying Phil Spector aspect to the song - that's what we're aiming for. I said to Mikey, 'If you listen to this and I Lied, it doesn't sound like they belong together.'"

Mikey: "We'll make it fit. Longing, loss, love... anything that falls into those brackets, we'll fit in."

• ALIVE

Mikey: "This is a really incredible song. It's the one I listen to on repeat and sing in my head all day. It has this vocal melody - one of those real inner tear-jerkers."

Meet the

OTHER GUY...

DON'T KNOW DAVID DEBIAK?

HERE'S A CRASH COURSE IN MIKEY'S NEW BANDMATE

HE'S ALREADY IN TWO BANDS: SLEEP STATION AND NEW LONDON FIRE

David says: "I'm focusing my attention on Electric Century right now. For us to make the record we want to make, we've got to give this 100 per cent."

EVERY RECORD HE MAKES IS DIFFERENT

David says: "The last album I made had a very folk-driven, political influence. The one before that was completely different. Everything I've done is just how I'm feeling at the moment. I just go with my gut and whatever comes out, comes out."

HE CAN BE A BIT MISERABLE

David says: "I've always made music that comes from the heart. If I could describe the body of work at all, I'd say it was bipolar: it's never always going to be up and it's never always going to be down."

HE AND MIKEY HAVE A GREAT RELATIONSHIP

David says: "When two people happen to be as close as we are as friends, but are also on the same page musically, it's just so much easier. The lines of communication don't get blurred."

HE'S VERY PROLIFIC, RELEASING EIGHT ALBUMS SINCE 2000

David says: "Music isn't something I want to do. I have to do this. It's like breathing to me."

Kerrang Issue no 1510, March 29 2014

[fanfic-me-up]

Insecure s/o with short hair || Headcanons

This is a lovely request! Thank you for the awesome idea @bitweird1​

I can relate to this so hard that I wrote Midoriya’s based on my experience with a haircut that went wrong. I cried with my mom in the car for like half an hour 😂 

I hope you like it! I’m sure you look lovely with your haircut 💖

Midoriya Izuku

He’s very supportive of you changing your hairstyle! 

Will listen to you ramble as you scroll through hair inspiration pics.

“You’ll look beautiful either way, Y/N.”

He’ll take you to the salon and wait while you get your haircut. He’s the No. 1 pro-hero, but he’ll always make time for his girl. 

Oh no, did you really ask for it that short?

Your hair painfully stays put no matter how you ruffle it. 

It’s just hair, it’ll grow back. You repeat, but that doesn’t stop the lump in your throat from surfacing.

Izuku drops the magazine he’s holding to stand, his eyes roaming your face with a sense of wonder.

“Wow, Y/N, you look…”

“I know.” You look down to hide the tears welling up. It’s bad enough you hate your hair, but you can’t stand the thought of Izuku hating it too.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Izuku brushes your hair behind your ear, but it’s so short that it falls back in your face again. 

The tears threaten to fall and you don’t want to make a scene so you grab Izuku’s hand and drag him to the car.

You ramble about how bulky your head looks and how you won’t be able to style your hair anymore like you used to.

And poor Izuku looking like a confused puppy bc you look freaking gorgeous?

“Okay please slow down, babe, I have no idea what you’re talking about, it looks great!” 

“I’m bald, ‘Zuku, it doesn’t get worse than this!” 

“Would it make you feel better if I showed you the pictures my mom took when I cut and dyed my hair like All Might’s?” 

You sniffle, “…maybe”

Okay, you know you’re being over-dramatic, but it’s gonna take a while for your hair to grow back and you’re dreading the whole awkward phase where your hair is neither short nor long.

Izuku makes it his personal mission to make you feel comfortable in your own skin again. we all know this boy doesn’t know when to quit

He will put his research skills to the test, scouring the internet for ways to make your hair grow faster and different hairstyles to try.

Be prepared to experiment!

Izuku is gonna raid the pantry, combining different ingredients to make hair masks!

 If it doesn’t work, he will jot it down in his notebook dedicated to you and move on to the next combination.

Spa night will become a regular thing!

Thanks to Izuku’s big brain and hardwork, your hair grows back in no time!

But you kinda miss your short hair bc spa night was bonding time for you and Izuku.

He surprises you when he comes in with a sheet mask on his face and hands you one of your own.

Just because your hair grew back doesn’t mean spa night is over!

Todoroki Shouto

You decided to take the plunge and get a pixie cut!

All the girls compliment you when you walk in.

“Girl, you look hot!” Mina gushes.

“I’m so jealous! I wish I could pull off a pixie cut like you!” Ochako says.

You blush and thank them for their kind words.

Todoroki stops in his tracks at the sight of you.

Will he love it? Will he hate it?

“Beautiful.” 

That one word sends your heart for a loop. 

But your confidence is shattered when you and Todoroki go out the next day and two guys on the street make some rude comments.

“Which one of ya’s the dude?”

“Nah, man they’re both dudes!” 

They hold their stomachs, laughing at their sad excuse of a joke.

Your hand grips Todoroki’s tight, scared that if you let go you might have a breakdown right here in the middle of the street. He gives your hand a reassuring squeeze before setting his gaze on the two jerks. 

“Say that one more time.” 

His eyes narrow as he conjures unforgiving shards of ice from his right side.

The two guys run away in fear.

Since that incident, you feel the overwhelming urge to throw a cap on and hide the hair you were once so confident in.

You ask Todoroki when you’re checking your hair out in the mirror if he prefers you with short or long hair. 

“I prefer you.” 

Todoroki is clueless about how to address the situation. He misses your confident persona and your carefree smile.

The whole week you feel like someone’s watching you; following you to class - and you must be going crazy because you swear you see camera flashes. How creepy if someone’s taking pictures of you... 👀

You walk to your dorm after class, prepared to watch movies all weekend, when you spot a photo album sitting on your bed.

What the heck is a photo album doing on your bed?

You flip through it to find photos of you. They must’ve been taken from a distance and would explain the weird feelings and camera flashes. 

“So I wasn’t imagining it…”

You see yourself smiling with Mina and Ochako in the lounge, laughing with Kirishima and Kaminari during lunch, and you smirking when you landed the winning blow during a training exercise with Bakugou. 

“You like it?” 

You jump and turn to find Todoroki watching you intently. 

Oh thank god. You were kinda scared there was a serial killer after you.

“Um… I appreciate the gesture? But… why?”

“To show you how pretty you look.” 

Todoroki flips through the pages and shows you the different pictures, pointing out what he likes about each one.

“There’s no reason for you to be insecure, Y/N, look at you, you’re beautiful.” 

You’re touched at the effort Todoroki put into proving how much he adored you, even if the execution was a bit weird. 

“Thank you, Shouto, I… I needed this.” You wrap your hands around his neck and peck his lips.

“You’re welcome, Y/N.”

“But we do need to talk about you taking pictures of me like a stalker.” 

Todoroki cocks his head like taking pictures from a distance without your consent never occurred to him. You shake your head and smile at his cluelessness. 

You pull him down for another kiss and when he runs his fingers through your hair; it brings a smile to your lips.

Kirishima Eijirou

You’re not one to back down from a dare.

“You’re gonna regret it,” Kirishima says.

“Bet!”

Yeah… you regretted it the moment you looked in the mirror, Kaminari’s reflection looking sheepish with a pair of scissors in his hand. Tufts of hair, your hair that was just on your head a moment ago, now on the floor.

You know those scenes in movies where someone screams and each shot zooms further and further out until they’re screaming so loud it can be heard from outer space? Yeah, that’s basically what happens.

Everyone rushes down wondering who the hell got murdered in the middle of the night. 

Bakugou calls you an idiot, Midoriya gives you words of encouragement, and Aizawa-sensei is just… done. 

Kirishima will 100% help you style your hair. He knows more about hair than all your girlfriends combined. 

He even convinces you to dye your hair bc why not at this point. But you’re not sure since you’ve never dyed your hair.

“Do you trust me?”

Well, you can’t argue with that.

Oh and if anyone tries to come for you about your hair, you bet Kiri will shut that down real quick. He’s not taking shit from anyone, especially when it comes to you.

Kiri loves to leave you little notes every morning with positive quotes like “Remember to smile!” or “You can do it!” They’re cheesy, but it gives you a confidence boost needed to get through the day.

This boy knows more about dealing with one’s self-image than anyone. He will be there for you every step of the way. If you need to rant, he will listen. If you need to cry, he’ll offer his shoulder. If you need encouragement, he’ll whisper sweet nothings into your ear until you believe it.

He’ll play with your hair and you let him style your hair for fun with gel until it's spiky like his. 

It makes you realize that it’s only hair and it’ll grow back. May as well have some good laughs so you have a fun story to tell later in life 😊

[all-theimaginess]

“Precious Gift”

Prompt: It is Pietro and Wanda’s birthday and your gift to them (other than one for each) is a photo album with pictures of their parents.

AN: This imagine came out a lot shorter than I meant it to, but I hope that you all like it.

A/N: In an effort to have all of my fics in one blog, I am going through and reposting old works from my previous blog which I will more than likely delete after this.

Warnings: None

It was the day that you were excited for; Wanda and Pietro’s birthday. You were really proud of the gifts that you had gotten them. You and the rest of the Avengers were sitting in the living room around a table that was full of presents. Pietro and Wanda looked astonished by the sheer amount of presents. Time had slowly ticked by before they were to the presents that you had gotten them. You had gotten Pietro the first three Harry Potter books since you two had been talking about them and Pietro told you that he was interested in trying them. For Wanda, you got her a really cute sweater that you thought that she would love and a couple of other things since you wanted the twins gifts to be somewhat equal, but there was one that you were anxious for them to open.

They had no idea that you had been gathering pictures for weeks. You hoped that they liked it. The moment of truth had arrived. Both of the twins were smiling and laughing when they opened the present that was marked for both of them. They froze almost immediately. Your eyes widened. ‘Oh my God they hate it.’ You think. Pietro lifted the album out of the box and opened it.

You watched intensely as they looked at it and flipped the pages. Their eyes were filling with tears. Pietro was the first to look up. “(Y/N)… You did all this?” You nod, speechless. He rises from the couch and walks over to hug you. The hug is warm and full of love. “Thank you.” He whispers in your ear. When you and Pietro parted, Wanda was standing behind him prepared to give you another thank you hug.

Soon they were back on the couch and wiping tears from their eyes. “How did you get some of these photos?” Wanda asked, the book still in her lap.

“I started looking a little while ago. Some of the pictures were pretty easy to find, and for the others I needed a bit of help. I scoured the internet and I even went on a couple of private missions…” You trailed off for a moment. “I just wanted to do something nice for you guys on your birthday.” You smile at them.

“Leave it to (Y/N) to hit it out of the park.” Tony said, taking a sip of his bourbon. The others seemed to nod in agreement.

“So, who wants cake?” Steve asked as he stood up. Responses were mixed because of the large dinner they had had prior.

Pietro and Wanda took this chance to bring you over to sit on the couch with them. The three of you talked and looked at the photo album for a little while. Everyone seemed to be having a good time. It was times like these that this group of people really felt like your family and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[boldly-ho]

Another Life - Chapter 2

Pairing: Vladislav x Reader

Fandom: What We Do in the Shadows

Word Count: 1318

Chapter Summary: You move in.

A/N: This is a short one, sorry. It doesn’t really fit in the next chapter, though, so I figured I’d post it as it’s own chapter. Cross-posted to AO3 under the same name.

You kicked the door shut behind you, grimacing as it slammed audibly. Whoops. Hopefully you hadn’t woken any of the guys. Too late to stress about it, now. You carried your last box up to your room, simultaneously relieved that they were finally all in there and disappointed that you now had to unpack them. It wasn’t as if you had an excess of possessions. In fact, you didn’t have that much; you couldn’t. Most of the places you’d lived weren’t blessed with an abundance of space. Still, though, you imagined it would take you a few hours to unpack. You debated for a moment only taking out the essentials, before stamping that disastrous idea down. If you didn’t unpack everything tonight, you wouldn’t do it for months.

Unpacking, of course, was a nightmare. It seemed even more tedious given that most of your boxes had only been packed this morning. The largest obstacle was probably the closet space, or lack thereof, more accurately. There was no closet at all, something you failed to notice on your tour of the house. Instead, there was a wardrobe against the wall. It was like the world’s most infuriating game of Tetris, ending with a pile of clothes and shoes guaranteed to fall on you when you next opened that door.

“Knock knock!” The words were accompanied by an actual knock on your door frame. Viago poked his head in.

You pulled open the door for him. “Hi, Viago. I didn’t wake you did I?”

“Not at all. I get up at six.”

“Is it already six?” You looked behind you at the window, only now realizing the sun had set. “I spent that whole time organizing the wardrobe. That’s disheartening.”

“Do you need some help?” he offered.

“That’s sweet, but no. I’m just complaining.”

“If you’re sure. Petyr is probably going to sleep in tonight, but Vladislav, Deacon, and I are going into town. Do you need anything?”

“No, thank you. I’m just going to power through the rest of these boxes and head to bed.”

“Alright then. We might not see you until tomorrow evening. We usually get home pretty late. We’ll keep the noise down.”

“Thanks.”

Viago left, and you heard the three talking downstairs as they made their way out the door.

You wondered if this was going to be the norm here. A handful of roommates you never saw. There were certainly worse living situations. You and Dawn had become close, but that was merely coincidence. You had never been the type of person who had to be best friends with her flatmates. Being the only diurnal person in the house had its perks. You’d only share five or six waking hours with your flatmates. It would be almost like having the house to yourself. You enjoyed your privacy. This might actually be nice.

~

All pictures saved to your phone in the last year were pretty generic. A few mirror selfies. Mostly at clubs. A few celebrity photos saved from the internet. Quite a few inanimate objects. Delicious looking meals. Trees and flowers at the park. The photo of the moon you had on your lockscreen. But there were no pictures of anyone else. There were no pictures of you with anyone else. And there were no pictures taken in the place you had been living. You had thousands of photos in your camera roll. But for some reason, you had only saved 46 pictures over the last year.

Furthermore, there were no new contacts in your phone. You’d gone through each number one by one. You had known all of these people a year ago.

You’d scoured social media. You hadn’t posted much this past year, and what you had posted did nothing to inform you of what you’d actually been up to. A thorough search online revealed that you had no friends named Vlad or Vladimir or anything similar. None of your friends had friends with that name.

What the hell?

~

God, you were an idiot.

You had severely underestimated how long it would take to finish unpacking. It was now almost two in the morning. You were parched. The last time you had anything to drink was before you left Dawn’s. You dragged yourself down the stairs and into the kitchen, rummaging through three cabinets before finding the glasses. The glass was filled three times from the tap before your thirst was sated. No longer feeling quite so dehydrated, you were able to focus on your ravenous stomach. Maybe you could steal a bit of food from your flatmates ? Just one time.

The refrigerator had quite a few decades on you. The moment you opened it, however, the outside of it seemed comparatively flawless. Not only was there no food, although, really, how could four grown men not have any food between them? But, the smell that came from the empty fridge was sickening. Almost like rotten meat. Though, it wasn’t entirely empty, you noticed. There was a single decanter of what looked liked red wine on the top shelf. You sighed and closed the door, making a mental note to buy a box of baking soda for the fridge when you went grocery shopping.

You rummaged through the cabinets, still intent on thievery, but found nothing aside from assorted china. You sighed in exasperation. Men. Of course they only ate takeout.

Well, when in Rome.

You took out your phone, looking up the nearest pizza joint open at this ungodly hour and ordering your go to. Estimated delivery in 45 minutes. Maybe you’d end up being as nocturnal as your flatmates after all. The burning behind your eyes and heaviness of your lids suggested otherwise.

You sat at the kitchen table, scrolling on your phone, waiting for your food to arrive…

“Did you order a pizza?”

You woke suddenly, whipping your head up, your forehead sore from where it had been resting against the table. “What?”

“There is a pizza. From on the doorstep.” The man standing in the kitchen spoke in a European accent. He had messy brown hair and was wearing clothes that seemed fairly outdated, including a black and red military jacket that had seen better days.

“Oh. Yeah, sorry. I must have fallen asleep. Good thing I tipped online, huh?” you offered jokingly.

He didn’t react. “The pizza is cold.” He set the box on the table in front of you.

“Yeah. I must’ve been asleep for a while.” You wiped your eyes, mildly embarrassed by the makeup that transferred to your fingers. “I’m Y/N. You must be, uh…” You felt dumb for beginning the sentence that way. You had no clue which flatmate he was supposed to be.

“I am Deacon.” Again, no smile. You were beginning to think this guy didn’t much care for you.

“Deacon. Hi. Nice to meet you.”

He nodded in response. That was something at least.

You opened the box and took a bite of the cool pizza. “Would you like some?” you asked, mouth full.

Deacon grimaced. “Uh, no, thank you.”

Whether he wasn’t a fan of the pizza or of your poor manners, you couldn’t tell. Possibly both. You shrugged, taking another bite. “So are the other guys back, too?”

“Yes. They are in bed. It’s almost sunrise.”

Oh, crap. You’d been asleep for a while then. You decided to migrate up to bed and try to salvage a few hours of restful shut eye. You shut the pizza box, shoving the entire thing into the smelly fridge.

“Thanks for bringing in the pizza for me,” you called to Deacon as he exited the kitchen.

He didn’t acknowledge your thanks, but did tersely remind you to remain quiet during the day.

Whelp. 25% of your new flatmates didn’t care for you, 25% were friendly towards you, and 50% may or may not actually exist. Not horrible statistics, all given.

[ilikeoldchangke]

Destroying my sister in law’s reputation

This has to be one of the most horrible thing I have done in my life and I would surely go to hell for it.

The idea of doing something like this just hit me out of the blue one day many years back and it has been festering in my brain for the longest time. At first I just wondered if it can be done at all, then slowly as the thought takes root inside my head, it became an infatuation.

Back in 2009 when I was dating my wife, I was introduced to Mandy, her sister. I’ve had the hots for my girlfriend’s sister before but never in such intensity. Mandy really brought out the monster inside me.

My girlfriend Melody then was a hottie too with the figure and brains to match but there is just something about Mandy that attracts me to her.

She is not only the splitting image of her sister, there is this sweet and innocent side to her that makes you want to dote on and pamper her.

You know sometimes you hear people say hey, so and so look like the younger version of a celebrity. A little more cute, a little more sweet. Mandy is just like a younger version of my wife.

Seeing Mandy is like taking a trip back in time.

Constantly.

Even till this very day when I look at my sister in law, I would be reminded of the times I spent with my wife when she was younger.

Melody and Mandy have an age gap of 5 years.

When I got to know Melody as a colleague at work, Mandy was still a JC student.

Looking at her in her JC uniforms, I can picture my wife in that exact same age, dressed exactly in that manner coming home after a day in school. That pair of slim legs and her ankle socks that are barely visible as she walks along the road, cradling her bag in hand looking all innocent and sweet.

That image alone made me attempt to recreate the scene no less than 10 times with Melody.

I’m sure this is something many couples do.

Getting their partners to put on their old school uniforms and pretend they are back in school. As for me, I would pretend I’m the one dishing out disciplinary action to her.

In bed of course.

I could picture myself fucking a younger version of my wife whenever I think about Mandy.

I’m sure if given the chance, you would surely want to be able to do a younger, wilder version of your partner.

Mandy got hotter and prettier as with each passing year.

I literally watch her blossom form a sweet young thing into the hot girl she is today. She got a little taller.

Her breast got a little more full.

There’s more bounce in her buttocks when she walks.

Her lips looked more kissable.

Even the smallest action of her brushing her hair behind her ears would sometimes give me an erection.

Mandy has no lack of followers and fans on her social media sites. She’s not a attention seeking whore or anything but there are occasions she does a bit of modelling for some of her entrepreneur friends.

I shall not waste time by going into detail the kind of fantasies I have of Mandy.

Every conceivable thought and fetish that has to do with your girlfriend sister back then, I have imagined it in my head. I pictured it in my mind and wanked off countless times.

Living in the same household was a added bonus. I live together with my in laws in a Jumbo flat in Woodlands. It’s huge and there’s more than enough space for everyone. Me and my wife’s room is right beside Mandy’s.

We share the same bathroom.

Right by the entrance into the bathroom along the wide corridor sits 3 baskets.

Laundry baskets. One for each of us.

Each time I had to force myself not to look when I see Mandy come home from school or from work as she grew older. The bundle of semi wet clothes with her worn panty and bra entangled into the mix just join the rest of her worn stuff in the basket.

Just think of all the things I can do with Mandy’s clothes. Her lingerie, her sports attire, her socks and heels. It’s a candy shop for a horny adult with a fetish.

I have access to so many things. As long as no one is at home of course.

I had access to Mandy’s laptop as well. She’s not exactly savvy with IT stuff and to be honest, I think she knows her phone better than she knows her computer.

Isn’t this the way things are now with the young people these days ?

I know her login password and ID, I setup the WIFI for the family and I even helped to configure her access to the network printer at home. The best thing I did was help her configure her phone to upload and backup her photos onto the backup drive shared among the family.

Every photo, every selfie. Every wasapp image file and videos.

Once she’s connected to WIFI, it gets backup and I get access.

It’s like stalking on a whole new level.

My relationship with Mandy cannot be better. She looked up to me as a older brother of sort, which really amplified how bastard I am when I do something like this to her.

Through sheer manipulation and the power of association and materials from the internet, I was able to destroy her reputation, wreck her relationship and drove her to the brink of a mental breakdown.

I live by a simple motto.

If I want to do something, I go all the way and this is definitely something that I went all out in terms of the money, time and resources I spent but it was all well worth it in the end.

How far did I go you ask ?

Mandy took down all her social media profile, her boyfriend left her. She quit her job.

When she makes eye contact with another man along the street, she tells me the look haunts her.

It made her question whether they saw the scandal that was floating around the internet.

The fake scandal that I created.

One that her boyfriend and everyone around her believed.

Mandy would shut herself in her room most of the time. Right at her most vulnerable moment, I would be her light at the end of the tunnel.

To lend her a shoulder when I most needed it.

So how did I do it ?

By being the absolute bastard of course.

By absolute, I really meant downright despicable.

The length I went to shock even myself as I did it.

First I need to discredit her and for her boyfriend Yogi to find out about it. Not about the discrediting of course. I wanted Yogi to find out about the personality I created about Mandy.

To paint Mandy in a different light to the people around her.

I plan to do that with the internet.

As a well-behaved goody two shoe, there are things that you would never imagine someone like her doing. I want to create the impression that she is doing something behind everybody’s back.

I don’t need her to be in the picture explicitly doing what want.

I just needed to plan the idea in people’s head and it’s not hard to do that. Given that her boyfriend is also visits the popular sex forums online, it would be a matter of time before he chance upon the charade I created.

For a start, I plan to make use of her own wardrobe against her. Yes, her clothes. Imagine one day coming across the picture of a girl exposing her breast, or her legs wearing the same set of clothes your wife or girlfriend wore to work that day.

Would that not make your heart skip a beat immediately even though no face was shown ?

First, I would need to find someone to play the role of Mandy.

Now it’s impossible to find someone who looks like my sister in law to play the role, I don’t need someone to look like Mandy, I just need someone who feels like Mandy.

Let me explain.

My sister in law has average height and weight.

Not fat, not thin, not too tall.

Just nice.

At 1.6m and 46kg with a proportional body, it’s not hard to find a girl with these stats in Singapore. The challenge is finding someone who is willing to do what I want her to do.

I started by scouring freelance modelling website.

I dropped countless messages and mails but no one seemed interested. I even posted classified ads on free sites and forums, looking for girls of similar stats.

The excuse I gave was for a personal project and that I am willing to pay for a simple photoshoot. However, since I’m not a registered photographer with any portfolio to show for it, it’s natural to expect the lack of replies.

I offered a good deal for about an hour’s work, no hanky panky.

No touching of the model’s body and we will be doing the shoot in public spaces in day time. That should give some assurance to the girls that I’m really not interested din violating them physically.

No face shots. Just the body.

I only needed to use their body, or rather, images of it.

After a 2 months search, I finally got a hit.

Charmaine.

The story here is simple.

She needed money for her school fees and chanced upon my ad. My instructions to her were simple.

Put on a set of clothes that I will be providing, and take some pictures, and I’m willing to pay her 200 for an hour’s work. It worked out easier than I expected.

We met up at a café, she asked for a 50% downpayment and I gave it to her.

I handed her the set of clothes I borrowed from my sister in law’s wardrobe.

Now, selecting the clothes is an art. There are so many, so which one do I choose ?

Well, I went through her photos and social media feeds, I found a few photos which I think Mandy looked pretty good.

She was wearing a short sleeveless white dress with black stripes. The hem of the skirt ends several inches above her knees such that as she walked, you would get this lively bounce that almost gave you a peak of her panty.

Instead of a cardigan, she had a faded denim long sleeve top she wore as a jacket. It’s loose, flowly and it covered up the good figure she has.

Shoes is a simple pair of sneakers that is plain light grey in colour.

I picked the same blue backpack she was using in that set of photos and stuffed all the clothes I borrowed into the bag.

These are the stuff I want Charmaine to wear.

Charmaine : The clothes are in here ?

James : yes… just a dress and a jacket of sort. The shoes I think…… let me see…

I took a glance of her feet and told her it might be a little tight but since we are just doing a quick shot, the discomfort should only be for a while.

Charmaine nodded and went into the ladies.

5 minutes later, she emerged in the same set of clothes Mandy wore in one of her Instagram photos.

I tried to picture Charmaine without her face and I tried hard to stop myself from nodding my head.

Looking at just her body, I think she can easily pass of as Mandy.

Charmaine  : like this ??

James : yes… looking good…

I appraised Charmaine’s body and I could tell she was a little uncomfortable.

Charmaine : errrr…. So what now ?

I smiled and told her to follow me.

Charmaine : Where are we going ??

James : relax…. Just across the road. … the HDB estate…

Charmaine : take the pictures there ??

James : Yes…. Don’t worry… just taking some pictures….

As we crossed the road to the housing estate , Charmaine looked nervous. She kept looking around the vicinity.

James : Don’t worry… it’s really just taking photos….

Charmaine : Do you mind if I ask why are you….. ermm… why are you…. Doing this ??

I gave her a reassuring smile and told her that I just wanted some photos for my collection.

James : and ermm… you know… I’m single…. And my friends sometimes tease me I got no girlfriend….

Charmaine : huh ?? ….

James : So… I just want to take some photos…. For my own collection…. And some shots to prove to them I am attached…. Not a gay or something….

Charmaine : oh…. Ermmmmmm… that is so weird….

James : haha… I’m paying you for it… don’t worry….

I could tell she still looked unconvinced but I don’t care.

I just needed her body for a while and hopefully if I can convince her how easy it is to earn this quick buck, I could continue using her body for the other parts of my plan.

James : Alright…. Over here….

Charmaine : here ??

James : Yes… let’s go up….

We entered the lift and I hit the highest floor.

We came out on the 16th floor and I took a quick look around.

It’s a weekday afternoon, most of the people are out at work. I gestured to the corridor and we went to the staircase at the end of it.

James : here is good.

Charmaine looked around and nodded at me nervously, staring intently at the phone I was holding in my hand.

James : relax….

Charmaine : What do I have to do ??

James : haha… not much…. Not much…. climb up the staircase…. Slowly…

I brought up my phone and took the first couple of shots before appraising it on the small LCD screen of a old phone of mine.

I smiled as I looked at the photo.

Just like Mandy……. Just like Mandy….

………………………………………………………................................................

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[psychofactz]

Why We All Need Time Unplugged

“Life is what happens while we’re busy worrying about everything we need to change or accomplish. Slow down, get mindful, and try to enjoy the moment. This moment is your life.” ~Lori Deschene

Technology is everywhere today, integrated into our lives from the moment we wake up and check our email to the twenty minutes we spend checking our Twitter feed before falling asleep.

From smartphones and tablets to Fitbits and multi-display work computers, it’s hard to use technology mindfully, and most of us spend a great deal of time throughout the day looking at screens.

Choosing to unplug, disconnect, and put down our devices is a deliberate decision. For me, the decision to unplug came as I was preparing to set off for a year and a half of traveling around New Zealand.

The Problem

I had just left a job where I spent most of my day emailing, updating social media, and scouring the Internet for websites that would be useful contacts for my company. I would get home from the office and eat something while simultaneously scrolling through my personal Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and email accounts. The barrage of information was endless. I would often end the day red-eyed and battling a headache.

I realized I didn’t actually know how to relax and unplug, and I also realized I didn’t know what a huge toll the excessive screen time was taking on me until I stopped the flow. It took a few weeks, but slowly the constant need to check feeds and update statuses faded, and I spent a great deal more time actually, well, doing things in the world—without posting about it.

Deciding to Unplug

Since I was embarking on a new chapter in my life, it seemed like a good time to try something new and try to not let technology take over my life. I was afraid of missing out on the experiences I would have while traveling because I was too busy trying to take the perfect photo or craft the perfect post instead of just being there and enjoying the moment.

I sold my smartphone, canceled my cell phone service, deleted my social media accounts, and asked all my friends and family for their mailing addresses so I could send postcards and letters instead of emails and tweets. I went cold turkey and all-in.

While resistant at first, most people close to me were supportive of this change in the long run, although I did get the occasional, “How will I ever contact you if you’re not on Facebook?!” I figured the people who mattered would find a way to stay in touch, Facebook or no Facebook.

My partner and I decided that while traveling, we would share one iPad mini we’d use to post monthly blog posts about our travels, and all other devices would stay at home. No phones, no nothing.

Technology’s Impact on Behavior

The effects of technology on our thought patterns and behaviors aren’t great. The presence of technology seems to give us a free pass to be rude and unmindful in group situations (i.e. texting during dinner), or to flake out on our friends. It also changes the way we interact with others, including our children, when doing an activity together, like reading.

“Electronic readers seem to change the types of conversations that parents and children have over a story,” according to KinderCare Learning Centers. “With e-readers, we adults tend to be more prescriptive when talking—push this, swipe that—and less conversational…”

For all the talk about technology connecting people around the world, it certainly does its share of creating disconnection, too. I strongly believe we would all be happier if we spent more time face-to-face and less time face-to-screen.

Together but Apart

I recently moved into a new house, and it took a few weeks for my Internet to get hooked up. There was a very noticeable shift in my behavior and that of my roommates once we were online.

Before the Internet, we all interacted with each other when we were in common spaces, playing games and talking about our days. With the Internet, we were more likely to be in our own rooms, procrastinating and wasting time.

Of course, we still interacted and still have frequent game nights together, but often the presence of a smartphone or laptop changes the entire vibe of an evening. I long for the days when we were unplugged and connecting more deeply.

Physical Reasons to Unplug

In addition to emotional and behavioral patterns, the physical costs of excessive screen time are great. Vision and eye problems like dry eye syndrome can be exacerbated by too much screen time, while headaches and back problems are common among people who sit in front of computers all day. Lack of exercise due to too much sitting in front of computers directly leads to obesity and other health issues.

Somehow, these ailments don’t seem to stop us. We’d rather end up at rehab camps for tech addicts than set down our devices. Do we really want to be chained to the Internet and at the beck and call of each notification that lights up our smartphone?

A Different Way

It’s unrealistic to banish technology from our lives completely. But we can take steps to unplug from certain networks or devices, or to designate a no-tech period in the day that’s screen-free. For me, finding that balance is key.

Once I returned home from my travels, I found myself wanting to connect to all the social media networks I had abandoned. I wanted to share travel photos and stories and see what friends had been doing while I was gone. I felt torn between this urge to scroll and post and the desire to stick to my commitment to trying to be a more mindful user of technology.

So I made some compromises. I waited a year before getting back on Facebook (and have since found it significantly less interesting) and I use a flip phone (I know, I know—living in the Stone Age) instead of a smartphone. I know I have to make it easy for myself to not get sucked into the social media/internet vortex.

One technique I also like to use is list-making. Have you ever gotten online to do one simple thing and then found yourself staring blankly at your computer an hour later, having no idea what you set out to do in the first place? I like to make a specific list of what I need to accomplish online and stick it in front of my laptop where I can see it. That way I’m reminded of my goal and purpose for opening my computer.

Finding individual solutions is the key to success, whether you need to get outside and completely away from technology, or you simply need some productivity tools to keep you on task so you can be done with your work sooner. Either way, everyone can benefit from unplugging from time to time. Our health depends on it.

[kootenaygoon]

So,

The Nelson Star office was located right downtown, half a block off Baker Street, in a quaint little brick building at the top of the Stores to Shores development. It was within a short walking distance of my house, though I still drove most of the time, and right above a coffeeshop called Sidewinders that I haunted every day. Next door was a small park that desperately needed some attention, with a concrete staircase leading through a shaded forest slope strewn with garbage and scrub bushes. 

The newsroom was on the second floor and was smaller than your average bedroom, which meant I was in ultra-close proximity with Calvin and the two other reporters. Downstairs was the advertising department, our front desk lady Cheryl and the publisher, Sharon Carpenter. One half of a power duo in town, Sharon worked closely with her husband Cam, who was the regional publisher. They were fiercely career-driven, well-connected socially and politically, and had recently become intimately involved in the local soccer league — which meant I was going to end up writing many, many stories about soccer.

Before the Star was born, there had been a century-old institution in town: the Nelson Daily News. Beloved throughout the Kootenays, it had crumpled under its own weight — though most people felt Black Press was to blame. The Carpenters helped finagle the deal to purchase and rename it, a move that left long-lingering resentments in the community. It was about thirty pages an issue, twice weekly, with a regular supplement called the West Kootenay Advertiser and a monthly arts publication called Vurb. When I first picked it up I noticed there were an alarming number of photos with people smiling self-righteously behind big cheques — we called them grip n’ grins — and some of the submitted copy was embarrassing, but there was also an eclectic smorgasbord of different things to read about. 

As I flipped through the pages I felt myself getting giddy over the prospect of doing things in a new way. I wanted to bring my literary sensibilities into even the simplest of stories, and stamp my personality proud on the page.

Because I was hoping to create a sustainable future at the Star, I knew I had to make an effort to get along with Calvin. The real problem between Cass and Calvin, I figured, was they had incompatible personalities. Maybe it was a gender thing. It only took a day or two before I had a pretty good read on the guy, though: he was desperate to please, always making vaguely inappropriate Dad jokes, and operated in a near-constant state of panic mode. His ambition was to put in a couple of years as an editor out in the booneys, then leap-frog up to a similar post in the Lower Mainland. Calvin had come over from the Abbotsford News, and he couldn’t have been more out of place in the Kootenays. He had a round face, small glasses and a neat silver goatee. His right-wing politics matched nicely with the Carpenters’, and he was a big fan of Dooley, but I couldn’t believe the editor of a Nelson newspaper could routinely be heard murmuring “fucking hippies” and questioning whether climate change is really that big of a deal. He wore Chicago Blackhawks shirts nearly every single day, ate fast food at his desk, and often wrote his editorials in the mad-scramble final moments of production day. 

He was going through a tough period in his life, routinely commuting across the province to visit family, and I knew Nelson didn’t feel like home to him. Eventually I decided he was a dude, doing his best, just like everybody else.

My favourite piece of Calvin advice had to do with job titles. He didn’t believe they should ever be capitalized, a stance which had gotten him into trouble with the public in the past.

“This one guy got so mad at me, told me ‘I’m the president of the company, you have to capitalize my title’,” Calvin said, after putting the paper to bed. He grinned, remembering.

“There just happened to be a garbage man walking by the window and I said ‘he’s the garbage man, you’re the president. I don’t capitalize his job title, why would I capitalize yours?’”

Just before I was hired the Star picked up Tamara Hynd, a world-traveling adventurer a few years older than me. She was a tall and slender brunette, with kind eyes, and an ultra-healthy lifestyle that contrasted dramatically with Calvin’s. Her journalistic instincts were on-point, and I was awed by her ability to shoulder her way into situations to get the story. She started mostly reporting on the school board — there was a teacher’s strike going on — but she also got intimately involved in the Nelson Commons project, a condo development downtown that was struggling to find buyers. She cultivated relationships quickly, was professional to a fault and fearless when it came time to bull into new surroundings. She would eventually be the first person on scene during a deadly shooting incident in Slocan, she traveled by herself to cover the Shambhala Music Festival, and she became a regular on the slopes of Whitewater Ski Resort. She knew how to do the job in ways that I was still learning, and she was entirely modest about it. Sometimes I felt sorry for her, the only woman among three dudes, but she always held her own. 

Then there was Greg Nesteroff. During our drive, Cass had called him her favourite person in Nelson, and I quickly learned why. Mild-mannered and polite, he was like a character from a different time. He was easily the most respected name on our masthead, and was also well-known as a local radio personality. At first I had scoffed at some of the prose being produced at the paper, but Greg’s stories were gorgeously rendered and book-ready. He wrote historical features about characters people had never heard of, illustrated with incredible black and white photos, while also covering some of our most pressing crime stories. By the time I arrived he’d already won a number of newspaper prizes for his work, and the plaques were proudly displayed down at the front desk.

One thing I decided to do, right on my first day, was create a new personal Facebook page. I didn’t want my friends at home inundated with Nelson news, and I wanted a professional account that I could connect with any contact without worrying about them glimpsing too much of my personal life. I’d learned about social media marketing through my internship the year previous, and I was keen to mobilize those skills. I searched “Nelson, BC” and then added every organization, every business and every group I could find — effectively turning my newsfeed into a list of story ideas. I was aggressive about adding friends. My plan was to funnel all my content through my newly created Tumblr, Kootenay Goon, so I would have a digital archive of my work. 

When I checked out the Star’s Facebook page, I found it barely active and seriously lacking in photos. The Twitter account was even worse. I made it a personal goal to make sure every story of mine was posted on social media, something that wasn’t currently happening in any organized way under Calvin. He was too busy with laying out the print issues while playing catch-up with his editorial duties to really give much thought to the paper’s online presence. If somebody was going to bring the Star into the 21st century, it wasn’t going to be him.

When it came to divvying up the stories, it became clear that the primary hole I was there to fill was in arts reporting. Greg had crime and city hall covered, Tamara was all over the school board, and there was a summer intern helping Calvin with the sports stuff — he himself covered all the Nelson Leafs games. I eventually learned that the arts section was routinely comprised of press releases, published exactly as submitted, that often featured the same photos being used for that organization’s advertisements. The second half of the paper was often devoid of real bylines, with the phrase “Submitted” splattered all over the page, and all these institutions in town had gotten used to funnelling their content into the paper free of any editorial interference. Annoyingly enough, that relationship was symbiotic — there was no way we’d be able to fill the whole 30 pages otherwise. I figured the more stories I wrote for the arts section, the more we could elbow out this embarrassing content and elevate our game.

Calvin gave me the task of laying out the entertainment page, a chore I quickly grew to loathe, though it introduced me to many of the organizations I would come to rely on for leads — Selkirk College, Oxygen Art Centre, the Capitol, the Civic, On the Road Management, Spiritbar and the Royal. It was often the last thing I did on production day, scouring my e-mail and the internet for details on upcoming events. I quickly figured out that the larger I laid out the picture, the less work I would have to do filling the columns. While I poured my soul into my writing and reporting, this part of the job meant nothing to me. I knew that nearly nobody was turning to the hard-copy newspaper to figure out what was going on around town, while meanwhile there were a number of online calendars that were far superior. The entertainment page was a relic of the print past, and I was interested in the digital future.

One columnist who stood out to me right away was Anne DeGrace, from the Nelson Public Library. She was in nearly every issue, and she always seemed to have some cutesy or experimental element to her prose. The woman obviously knew her way around a sentence. I would later learn that she had been a single mother who had come to Nelson decades earlier, eventually starting a bookstore called Packrat Annie’s and authoring a series of novels. She was one of the masterminds behind ArtWalk, a yearly collaboration between artists and the business community, and she was an organizer for the Elephant Mountain Literary Festival. A powerhouse. Calvin recommended that I meet her in person and I did, at Oso Negro coffeeshop a few blocks from our office. She seemed a little wary of me, perhaps because I was planning to edge in on her literary niche, but happy to share her expertise. She told me stories about the Nelson Daily News before it died, and about how editor Rob Wall was the only one to successfully make the transition to the Star. According to her, people were still getting used to the new paper in town. There was animosity, for sure. She told me no matter what kind of journalist I was or what kind of work I did, I would be perceived as working for “The Man”. And in a community like Nelson, constructed on an ethos of default defiance and grassroots activism, that was tantamount to being the enemy. She sipped her coffee.

“Now you can’t say I didn’t warn you.”

The Kootenay Goon

[hellzyeahthewebwieldingavenger]

Have you ever gone on the Spider-Man ride at Universal?

Have I ever gone on the Amazing Adventures of Spider-Man ride at Universal’s Islands of Adventure theme park in Florida?

That thing that I have a 2001 photo of near my bed and have had it there since 2001?

Er...only like 8 times!

Sit down and let me spin you a tale.

Long before there was a Spider-Man movie, long before I knew there was GOING to be one, I found out about the ride at like age 9-10.

It then became my life’s dream to go on that ride. And I do mean dream because I lived in England and my family at the time were living with my grandparents home as we slowly built our new house, a feat that took 2 years so we didn’t have the cash to spare on a big holiday like that.

One of the most crushing childhood memories I have is when there were vague discussions of a holiday to Florida with our closest family friends. But that fell through and I had to live with almost  getting to go on that ride. I eagerly scoured our family friends’ holiday photos for a mere glimpse of the Spider-Man ride but nothing!

Remember this was the late 1990s/early 2000s, there was no Youtube and your internet connection was a joke, even if I knew how to use it.

But by the Summer of 2001 we’d finished our new home and moved out. And we finally decided to go to Florida with our family friends...and two other groups of family friends for a two-week mega vacation hitting all the Disney and Universal parks and other tourist attractions (which for us included a bona fide American ‘mall’).

I enjoyed Disney’s MGM studios and Animal Kingdom, but I was waiting for the day we’d hit up Islands of Adventure. 

And then the day finally came and I was sure something was going to go wrong and get in my way.

First it was the lines to get into the park.

Then it was being confronted by some admittedly well meaning actors portraying Boris and Natasha from Rocky and Bullwinkle, trying to engage me in conversation when I just. Wanted. To. Get. To. Spider-Man!

And when I finally arrived at SUPER HERO ISLAND it seemed insane. For some reason in my child’s mind the idea of a theme park where every corner you looked and built into the street itself you’d see Disney characters, made sense.

But to see that for my heroes, the Marvel characters just didn’t seem real. Remember this was 2001, the Marvel Universe wasn’t as well known to the public (especially not in England). So whilst I  had of course learned about it from all the 90s Marvel cartoons, no one else I knew could instantly recognize like Doctor Doom.

But here I was seeing Jim Lee inspired art of him, Storm, the Hulk and a gigantic Bagley image of Spider-Man in front of THE Daily Bugle!

But alas...the Spider-Man line was immense. 

So we got a fast pass and arranged it to come back later and in the meantime I got to be traumatized by the Jurassic Park water drop ride. I was in the front seat age 10 with a T-rex approaching me and then...the ride stopped. Technical difficulties. In fact MOST rides that summer were having technical difficulties.

So we were stuck a T-rex looming over us. Unnoticed by me everyone else on the ride seemed to take a grip and bow their heads. I didn’t get why until it was too late and my eyes sharply turned from the T-rex to the like 60 foot high sheer drop as the ride came down with a splash.

Far less traumatic was getting a photo and autographs with the various superheroes and villains who showed up at Marvel’s Super Hero Island. Of course I got to meet the real Spider-Man...and my mother asked how Mary jane was.

His reply:

You’d have to ask Peter Parker about that

Fucking A.

Anyway, finally, finally, finally we got in the fast pass line for the ride. Which still wasn’t THAT fast but still we weren’t baking alive in the summer heat. And as a bonus I got to take in the surroundings of the Daily Bugle and the 1994 inspired animated shorts made for the ride explaining the whole story behind it (including my first ever look at Scream, a brand new symbiote I’d never even known about!).

Then we got to the ride. It was thrilling, the best feeling of my life. I was on an adventure with my hero Spider-Man! And we were all falling through the roof tops, spinning around and then...

We are sorry to inform you we are experiencing technical difficlties

The ride just stopped DEAD. 

In hindsight I suppose it was all too appropriate.

I wanted to experience what it was like to be Spider-Man and now I was going through some typical Parker luck!

A few minutes elapsed before we all yelled because a literal burst of flame exploded nearby us, the ride had started again.

It finished up and I don’t think I’d ever been happier in my life.

But I was about to be because due to the technical difficulties...we got to go again without lining up!

Whilst my family, friends and family friends in attendance enjoyed the ride well enough (except for my friend’s Dad, he’s always had chronic back pains) they all knew this day, this moment, was for me!

And it wasn’t quite over yet.

As we walked down the corridor towards the gift shop we saw...the Green Goblin!

It was a lifesized statue standing just besides the doorway to the gift shop, presumably set up so people could get photos with him.

Well, he was my favourite villain so I had to. I stood beside the statue and posed when...he came to life!

It was one of the actors who’d accompanied the heroes on their periodic arrivals to the Super Hero Island for photos and autographs.

Somehow this was less traumatic than the Jurassic Park ride. I asked for his autograph and he obliged, plunking his pumpkin bomb bean bag onto my head to free up his hands.

Fucking awesome.

And this didn’t even cover the gift shop itself.

I’d never seen so much Spider-Man STUFF in the same place at the same time. I got myself a Green Goblin action figure from the now defunct (but fondly remembered by Marvel Toy historians) Spider-Man Classics line of toys and picked up my very, very first trade paperback (before I even knew that’s what it was!)

Spider-Man’s greatest Villains

It was an eclectic collection of single issues (and one annual) spotlighting an individual villain. Doc Ock, Mysterio, Kingpin, Electro, Hobgoblin, Vulture and mah boys Carnage and Venom (drawn by McFarlane himself, in my first exposure to his work, it left a major impression!)

Being a child f the 1990s and specifically the 1994 cartoon (which was the most recent and influential adaptation at the time, merchandise for it abounding in the store) Venom and Carnage were among my absolute favourite...things in life basically.

I wasn’t alone because just about every Spider-Fan my age loved them too. Hence why getting toys based on them proved elusive for me. And Spider-Man’s bad ass super mega ultra cool black costume even moreso. I’d long resigned myself that getting that toy was just a pipe dream and I’d missed my window for it long ago...Less than 15 minutes after leaving the gift shop my Dad got me this:

There were at least two other stores around the area of the Spider-Man ride and one of them sold toys and other collectibles.

Not only did I fulfill another childhood dream of having a black costume Spider-Man, but the toy even came with a SYMBIOTE toy too! And it was super posable, unlike all my other toys, including my Spider-Man ones.

AND...it came with a reprint of ASM #252, the debut of the black costume itself by DeFalco and Frenz and starring Black Cat too. An all round awesome issue and one of the first classic Spider-Man stories I ever got to read.*

The other of the two nearby stores was what an older me would call a relatively modest LCS, as it wasn’t that big of a store and sold ONLY comics and trades.

But you have to understand, 10 year old me had NEVER been inside an LCS. The idea that so many comics could be in the same place and that a store JUST selling them could exist was akin to the Cave of Wonders from Aladdin, something that could only ever exist, not just in America (the land where Spider-Man and all those other characters I loved, were from) but specifically there on Super Hero Island.

The rest of the day was pretty fun. 

My friend somehow coerced her mother and mine to go on the Incredible Hulk roller coaster which I believe at the time was the tallest roller coaster in America, with this savage twist in the middle of it and a net to catch keys and other falling items.

We went on the Popeye ride, one of those rubber dingy rides that is supposed to splash you a lot and...I do not know if I’ve ever felt more wet in my life.

All in all it was a good day and I vividly remember being in one of the restaurants on the boulevard leading up to the theme park (a Three Supremes themed place for some reason, with wax statues of the band nearby our table) just pouring over my new toys, my new comics and my experience.

Best day of my life up until then!

Hell the ‘after party’ when we finally got back to England was awesome too. My beloved grandmother had bought me the latest issue of Astonishing Spider-Man that I wasn’t able to pick up whilst I was away. Who was the villain of the story? 

Carnage!...Also Silver Surfer was there and he was pretty cool too.

It wasn’t the last time I went on the ride though.

My family and family friends made it an annual tradition between about 2002-2008 to spend the Christmas holidays in America and every year up until 2006 we spent some time in Orlando, meaning I got to check out the Spider-Man ride at least once every year and pick up a new trade and a bona fide original American comic book (not a reprint!) off the stands.**

So to answer your question definitively, yes I have indeed gone on the Spider-Man ride at Universal. I’ve done so many times and the ride and location are incredibly special to me.

*When I say classic I mean anything from before like 1995 because the stories I’d been reading in my UK reprint magazine, Astonishing Spider-Man, were all from 1995-1998, except for when they specifically spotlighted an older comic and referred to it as a classic. To me a classic was anything with ‘older art’.

**This experience led to me getting one of my favourite stories ever, Revenge of the Green Goblin, the second JMS trade with the 9/11 issue and Aunt May and Peter’s conversation, and also Kraven’s Last Hunt and Spider-Man Torment.

I fondly remember reading KLH whilst walking between rides and shows in Islands of Adventure and Universal Studios, I even remember I was reading part 2 or 3 at like a Wild West show at the latter after dark and somehow this added to the atmosphere of the story.

Torment was a different experience. I’d seen the cover, I knew and loved McFarlane’s art and the story turned out to be a sequel to KLH to my delight. But I had a really bad stomach bug during that particular vacation and Torment helped me get through it. Half because it was a Spider-Man story I loved reading and half because the pain of my bug led me to relate to Peter’s pain in that story.

[bd60mma]

The Pursuit of Nothingness

The last time I posted musings about my life and my personal insights on depression and anxiety was over a year ago. Few people saw it and even fewer read it, but one individual took the time to message me and tell me that it helped them with their own situation. For that, I am thankful that I was able to help someone else, and sharing part of my story was worth it.

I’m not really sure that any help or inspiration can come from this post, and unlike my last one I have no key takeaways I want to illustrate to people, but I feel like writing a follow up to it anyway, if nothing else as something for me to do while I’m currently bored. Perhaps someone will read this and feel better about their own life, or they’ll gain some additional insight into depression. Perhaps one day after I’m gone people will find this and look to analyze my life, trying to figure out what went wrong or who I really was. Or, more likely, it will fade into obscurity in the far reaches of the internet, as most blog posts tend to do. In any case, if you’re reading this it must mean something to you, no matter how little, so perhaps that’s purpose enough.

I’ll try not to get too bogged down in the details, but if you’ve read anything from me in the past you’ll know I’m a descriptive and detailed writer who isn’t great at summarizing, so continue reading at your own peril. 

A lot has happened since that last post; I officially graduated university, I found my first full-time job, I somehow managed to find a girlfriend (for a while), I bought my first car, I made a close best friend...yet here I am, reminded of a thought now drilled into my mind through experience and constant disappointment:

It can and will always get worse.

There’s a common saying that’s meant more in an optimistic fashion that you’ve probably heard multiple times in your life - “It could always be worse”. It’s generally meant to inspire optimism by pointing out that no matter how bad you feel, be thankful that things aren’t worse. This can be extended to thinking about other people as well that have it worse off than you, something many parents will try and teach their children about. But in my experience, that phrase has turned out quite literal.

Let’s start somewhat chronologically from my last post - shortly after writing it, I officially graduated from the university I had been going to for roughly five years (since I came out of high school). I received a Bachelor’s of Computer Information Systems degree and became the first in my close family to graduate from university (my sister attended but didn’t finish her program). To most people, that would seem like a pretty big accomplishment, especially for someone who always hated school, as it meant I no longer had to step foot in a school ever again. Not for me, however.

I had always hated school, a sentiment that grew from my social anxiety and my general inability to make real friends or act like the person I really am (at least while I was growing up). I disliked the way the majority of classes were taught by teachers, with an emphasis on “grades” which inspired obedience rather than free thought and learning. University was slightly less hated by me than high school, if only because I didn’t have to deal with as many social problems and instead was left alone for the most part. Of course this had both good and bad connotations - other than a few classes which forced people into groups or shudder required presentations, I was able to simply attend class and leave without being forced into many social interactions; however, because of this I ended up making no friends and no real connections through five years of schooling. Of course when I did try and be more social I ended up failing and still didn’t get anywhere with people, but at least I didn’t really know anyone there and therefore didn’t have to worry much about what people thought about me. 

When I graduated from high school, I didn’t go to prom, I didn’t attend the graduation ceremony, I didn’t even take graduation photos at the school. I just wanted out, as much as I may have wished I could participate in those things without being miserable and incredibly anxious throughout. In university, it was more indifference - I didn’t know anyone else who would be graduating that semester, I didn’t even know anyone at the school beyond awkward classroom small talk, so this time I didn’t have anyone bugging me to go to these events or asking me why I didn’t want to. Graduating itself really wasn’t a big deal to me, it was simply something I felt I had to do in order to find a decent job (as I’m far from a physical labourer and don’t have the connections to find a career suitable for me without schooling). If anything, I viewed graduating as more of a failure than a success.

I didn’t want to live anymore, I didn’t want to be there, and I didn’t want to have to continue going through life. In my mind I had hoped I’d be long gone by then, and I wouldn’t actually see myself graduating. Instead, here I was, finishing my schooling and moving on to the next step in life, moving past what were supposed to be some of the “best” years of my life. While it felt good to make my parents and family proud of me, to me graduating didn’t mean much and was just another thing I was sleepwalking my way through. I received good grades (I never received anything below a B) throughout yet in the end felt that I had barely learned anything, at least not that was applicable outside of school. Nevertheless, I received my degree in the mail (since I didn’t attend the ceremony) and that was that.

I took some time before I started looking for a full time job, and even took a couple of weeks off of my part-time job working as a web developer (I had been working there for about 4 years and it was entirely virtual, meaning I worked from my computer at home and (mostly) made my own hours), basically the only time I had bothered to take time off during my time there. Instead of partying or going out with friends or taking a trip somewhere, my celebrations consisted of me staying at home, mostly playing Xbox and watching movies. I also bought a 4K TV for myself with money my grandparents gave me for a graduation gift, so there was that too.

After my “celebrations” was the job hunt - first I needed to buy some dress clothes, since the only items in my wardrobe were t-shirts, hoodies, jeans, and shorts. Luckily my sister helped me pick out some nice pants and polo shirts, as I had no idea what I was looking for and shopping isn’t exactly my forte. Then I scoured online job sites and LinkedIn, hoping to find something that was local - finding something that didn’t require several years experience was difficult, and finding something that wasn’t in Vancouver (an hour’s drive if traffic wasn’t terrible) was even harder. Luckily, after over a month of nothing, I was contacted by a recruiter to fill a programmer position for a local company. I had my first interview at the recruiting company’s office, and felt like a dunce in my “fancy” clothes, but apparently did quite well in the interview, after which they had me fill out several questionnaires. I was then signed by the recruitment company, who basically promised that they would find a full-time position for me. The owner of the recruitment company actually asked me to wait while he finished up a call, then brought me into his office and said he thought I was perfect for a local position they had just been hired to fill, gave me pointers and set up an interview with the company.

It was all a bit nerve wracking and confusing but I went to the interview with two employees of the hiring company and the recruitment company owner who did a lot of the talking for me. The job was for a health-care application company whose office was about ten minutes away from home, and the people there seemed extremely laid back and casual (no dress code, people brought in their dogs, etc.) and I ended up being hired for a programming position. I was extremely nervous but also happy that I had found a job, and would start in two weeks after I had given notice to my old job. 

Starting at the new job was quite scary for me, as I had never worked in an office (I was used to working virtually, and only ever had to deal with people online or occasionally by phone). The first day I had a severe panic attack in the middle of sitting with my new boss to go over setting up my development environment on my laptop, though luckily I was able to hide it well enough and I don’t think he noticed as he was basically looking at the screen the entire time. I had only had one severe panic attack before, but I’ve had more recently; they’re usually different depending on the person, but for me, I turn very pale, get extremely hot and sweat all over, feel sick to my stomach (though I don’t throw up), I get very dizzy and have difficulty focusing on anything, I feel extremely weak (just walking or even moving is taxing) and my chest hurts, as if I’m about to have a heart attack - a lot of people actually mistake their first panic attack for a heart attack. Unlike most, when I get one of these panic attacks I actually hope it is a heart attack, and try to hide it as best as I can not just to avoid being embarrassed, but also to avoid getting help as long as possible if it happened to actually be a heart attack.

Anyways, it was a bit overwhelming at first, but my boss knew that it was a lot of information to take in so helped whenever I had a question and was very understanding that it would take a while to get used to. The other employees (it’s a small office that we share with a graphics company, a total of around 10 people combined) all seemed friendly, and I liked the job along with the freedom of getting to work some hours at home, plus they provided an extremely powerful laptop to work on so I was happy with it.

As I was getting just used to the new job, my birthday came and went as I turned 23. I hadn’t much cared for my birthday in the last few years - it’s always nice to get gifts and have your family appreciate you, but to me it was just another year passing by, another year of being miserable and failing to accomplish or move toward what I really wanted in life.

And then something completely unexpected happened - I found someone. 

I had been on Tinder along with several other dating apps for years and never actually met anyone (no surprise, most of the people on it are gross anyway) and had pretty much given up hope of matching with anyone who actually cared to talk. I had tried all sorts of different things to try and get to talk to people, but in the end it always came down to girls “ghosting” me if they ever matched or responded at all (depending on the app). The few times I did get a match on Tinder it was either a bot account (every few months there seemed to be a new wave of bots, and until you saw duplicates of the same bio they were easily mistaken for a real account) or it was an accidental swipe by them (I can only assume, as they would un-match virtually as soon as they matched). But one day I did match with someone, and in their bio they mentioned their love of videogames, something that I love too, so I tried a super cheesy videogame pick up line, and to my surprise, it worked.

She actually responded and conversed for more than a few replies, something that was super rare for me to experience on these apps. We had a lot in common and hit it off immediately, and being quite a text-y person (as you can probably tell by the fact I’m writing such a lengthy post on Tumblr) it was really cool to actually find someone who responded quickly and carried on a real conversation. In close to five years of using dating apps I had talked to just a handful of people that actually had a normal conversation for more than a few minutes, and none seemed overly interested in me and ghosted me before long. For about a week we constantly texted each other throughout the day - luckily, texting on the job was fine at my new work so long as I got work done. 

Soon enough conversation moved to actually going out and meeting each other, which I honestly didn’t think would ever really happen - just the fact that she kept talking and seemed interested in meeting me was kind of surreal, given it hadn’t really happened before in many years of trying. She essentially asked me if I’d like to go on a date, and as nervous as that made me, there was no way I could turn down a chance like that. 

Here I was, 23 years old, and about to go on my first ever date. Frankly it was the first time I’d ever even be meeting someone outside of a classroom/work or family setting, and certainly the first time meeting a girl one-on-one. To say that my social anxiety was through the roof is a bit of an understatement, but at the same time, I was also excited and for the first time in a long time I had something I had almost forgotten about - hope. 

I broke the news first to my mom - I had always done my best to skirt around talks about girls with my family, as I always felt uncomfortable and it’s always embarrassing when you don’t even get to talk to the opposite sex yet get asked about dating and stuff like that. When I told my mom I’d be going out on the weekend and I told her it was for a date, I think she was as shocked as I was - happy, but shocked. I basically let her tell my dad to save me more discomfort - telling one of them was more than enough for me.

We decided to first meet at the theatre by her house (she lived in a town right by where I live, about a 15-minute drive from my place) and we’d talk first then watch a movie, and after we’d go for dinner. So, I put on some nice clothes (good thing I had gotten nice shirts for work recently!) and nervously made the trip. I made it to the theatre a bit early (if anxiety is good for one thing, it’s never allowing yourself be late) and being the middle of August during a bit of a heat wave, it was around 30 degrees. I was boiling, awkwardly waiting in the foyer of the theatre, sweatily clutching a pair of tickets to The Hitman’s Bodyguard, staring at my phone in my best attempt to look inconspicuous. Finally it was time and she texted me that she just pulled up, and a few moments later I saw her through the doorway. 

I thought she was pretty in her pictures, but seeing her in person I found her even more beautiful. We nervously said “hey” and she immediately gave me a big hug. It was the first time I’d ever gotten a hug from a girl (not including family of course) and at first I was surprised, but then it just seemed like most of my nervous energy just melted away. We stood there hugging in the theatre lobby for what must have been thirty seconds, talking to each other about how nervous and hot we were. She was 19 and said she hadn’t been on a proper date before (although she did have 2 boyfriends in the past, so I didn’t really understand that) and had anxiety too, and hated the heat as I always have so we had that much in common. We took a seat at a table in the lobby and talked for a while; it was nice to actually talk to her in person, even if I was awkward and anxious. 

After a while we got some drinks and popcorn to share and went in to watch the movie, and later on I asked if she wanted to hold my hand (I’m well aware of the fact that asking is weird but I was nervous so cut me some slack) which she thought was cute. That’s two things already off my bucket list - get a hug and hold hands with a beautiful girl. Later on she rested her head on my shoulder and all I could think was that this was the best movie ever. The movie itself was only decent, nothing special, but I would remember the experience forever.

After that, we went for sushi and had a great time talking, having gotten more comfortable with each other. Later on we went to a nearby Starbucks just to talk in the shade; it wasn’t until they closed at ten that I drove her home. She gave me the biggest hug ever before I left, and at the time it ended up being the best day of my life - it actually felt like someone out there liked me and liked spending time with me, and felt the same way about me as I felt about them. When I got home my mom asked a million questions (especially since I had been gone so long) and for once after doing something social I didn’t feel like it was a waste of time or that I had embarrassed myself.

We kept talking and went out several more times, becoming more comfortable and open with each other, as I would assume anyone does when going out with someone. I even got to experience my first kiss, which was scary as hell. But for the first time in as long as I could remember, I went to bed at night happy, looking forward to the next day; I woke up in the morning with energy, excited to text her and for the next opportunity to see her. 

For the first time in my life, I felt like I actually _belonged _somewhere, that I finally found the place where I fit in the world, somewhere I could actually be comfortable and happy. Even when we went out for dinner in a crowded restaurant, it was like no one else was there - my anxiety was virtually non-existent, my depression was gone, it was a completely surreal feeling. I had always yearned to find someone to spend my time with, to share myself with, to be comfortable with, and I had _finally _found it. It was like life finally made sense to me, someone had finally given me a chance and it turned out I made for a great boyfriend.

I met her mom, and her two sisters; her mom seemed especially happy about her going out with me, as her prior two boyfriends had apparently been “losers” and verbally abusive toward her, so she was particularly happy about the fact that I had graduated from university and had a job and plans for the future. She met my parents as well, and I introduced her to watching fights by showing her clips and GIFs off of Twitter (she loved seeing knockouts) which she got into. We watched UFC 215 at my house with my parents; it wasn’t the best card but we still had fun, and then we went to see the movie IT in a VIP theatre, where the seats are extra comfy and paired in twos and the staff serves you food before the movie starts, which was really fun.

During this time, since I had started my new job I was using my dad’s car a lot (which he was fine with since he drives his work truck during the week) but now that I was seeing my girlfriend (still feels weird to type even now) on the weekends too I knew I’d have to get my own car to be able to do so whenever I wanted, and I had already been looking for a while. I had more than enough saved for a large down payment and I ended up buying a new 2017 Mitsubishi Lancer, with nice rims and a free 10-year extended warranty which I was quite happy with.

After a few weeks of going out we spent an entire day together, going out for lunch and hanging out before I took her to the drive-in theatre - about a half-hour from where I live there’s an old fashioned drive-in that shows multiple movies in a night and you get the audio through your car radio. I used to go with my parents and sister when I was a kid, or sometimes just my dad and I, and she had never been to a drive-in so we made it a date. We smuggled in tons of candy and chocolate from a dollar store and watched two movies together in my new car before going back to her place late at night. I had always dreamt of being able to sleep with someone (as in actually sleep next to them) and I was so happy to be able to. It was and still remains probably the best day of my life. Just getting to sleep next to someone that I cared for and loved spending time with, someone who I felt cared about me and liked spending time with me, was surreal.

I’ve always had trouble falling asleep, since I was a kid; it would usually take me hours to get to sleep, even if I was exhausted. I had been taking a supplement called ZMA that helped me sleep for the past couple of years, and would help me get to sleep within around 15 minutes. But now? I didn’t take anything and after a few minutes cuddling I was sleeping like a baby. By the time I woke up from her alarm the next day, I hadn’t even gotten a full 8 hours of sleep (which I normally need and am still tired after) and yet I think I got the best sleep of my life. Getting to cuddle in the morning with something other than a pillow was like a dream come true.

A few days later, after I had been over at her house watching TV and playing games with her, on the way home at night I had a random thought while driving; if I died tonight I could finally die happy.

It was a fleeting thought as I was driving down the road, something that popped into my head, a slight urge to plough my car into the median (something I often thought but for opposite reasons). I hadn’t thought about suicide since I met her; it was like I was a different person, devoid of my normal depression and anxiety. It was if I was suddenly just normal.

I used to always think of killing myself as a way to end my misery, to no longer have to suffer; and here I was, happy as could be, and the opposite thought occurred, if only for a moment. I could finally die happy. 

It was a passing thought - there was no way I was going to die now that I’d finally found someone, and everything was going perfectly - for once in my life, I was happy. But that thought would come back to haunt me later, not as something that negatively impacted me, but of something I regretted not acting on.

We hadn’t been together for a full month at this point. She had just gotten a tattoo on her calf (she had a couple of tattoos already) and the day after she said she wasn’t feeling great, partly due to her leg being sore. We had planned to hang out at her place that night and that didn’t change, so I went over hoping to cheer her up and make her feel better; I brought her a drink that she liked, gave her a massage while she played her favourite game. I knew something was wrong and it started feeling like she didn’t want me there, but she said she wasn’t feeling good so I figured that was it and maybe she just wanted space. She still kissed me goodbye and gave me a big hug, and texted me the next morning like usual. She had to drive her mom to pick up her truck from repairs and then do some running around in the afternoon so we didn’t talk much that day, but I already knew that she was busy so didn’t think anything of it.

It was a Friday and I had a long and frustrating day at work, but left a bit early to drive to my car dealership (about half an hour away) to install an interior lighting kit that I had gotten thrown in with the deal but it wasn’t in stock when I had bought the car. So there I was and while I was waiting in the lobby, I drafted a letter to her on my phone. I had wanted to tell her how much she meant to me and how much I cared about her; I already did say things like that but since she wasn’t feeling good I figured it would let her know how much I cared and that I’d always be there to help or to try and make things better. By the time the lights were installed (which didn’t work the way I assumed and were kind of a waste), it was about five o’clock and thus rush-hour on the freeway, which I got stuck in. It took about an hour and a half to get home and I just wanted to relax and talk to my girlfriend after a long day.

And then I got home and saw a few long texts from her. She essentially stated she wanted to just be friends and wanted to take time to focus on herself, as she had been in relationships for the last few years without taking a break. She pretty much gave the tired old “it’s not you, it’s me” speech and broke up with me. Via text.

I didn’t even know what to think. Not only did it feel like I was being blindsided, as everything was going so well, but she didn’t even say this to my face or at least through a phone call. I texted back trying to make sense of it all, and wound up just talking in circles with her. One of her reasons was literally that she felt I was “touching” her too much, like with cuddling and holding her hand; despite the fact that she initiated that as well and regularly commented about how she liked that about me, and now all of a sudden she didn’t like it and that was reason to dump me without talking about it. And this came just a couple of days after she had texted me and started talking about sex, wondering why I hadn’t and I quote “tried anything” on her - as if she knew nothing about me and who I am. She had essentially wanted more “touching” and now holding her hand was a big issue?

It didn’t make any sense to me, nor did her answers when I pressed her as to why. I was devastated. I had a full on breakdown. Most people have a really tough time with their first breakup, even if they didn’t go out with the person for long - for me, not only was I upset at being dumped, it felt as if my one chance had been taken away from me, and I had no idea why. 

I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t eat. But I texted my now ex to ask if she would at least talk to me in person to hopefully set things straight, which just turned into another fight as she didn’t seem to understand why I was upset at all. But she agreed and so I drove over, thinking of all the things I was going to say. By the time she came out and sat in the car to talk, my mind went blank. I had managed to wipe my tears and stop crying before she came out, but now that I was sitting there with her, I felt like I didn’t even know her. She gave the same lame excuses along with “I don’t know”s and I just shook my head in annoyance and disbelief before I said goodbye and she went back inside. 

She had said she wanted to still be friends but I knew that being friends when I felt something more for her would just be torturing myself for no good reason...but at the same time I had never felt a connection like that with anyone, and I felt like we were so good together I just didn’t understand how it could be over, without me doing anything wrong (she even said herself that I didn’t do anything wrong). Even my parents, who I normally avoided talking about these kinds of things with (especially since being in a relationship was foreign to me, and prior to that when talking about girls I hadn’t even really talked to any, so it was just awkward and uncomfortable) both told me they were there for me and it just seemed like she didn’t want to be with me for whatever reason, and trying to be friends with her would just be making it harder for me.

Deep down I knew they were right; I knew that if she actually wanted to be with me at all, she would still be with me without issue, and if she truly cared she would have communicated properly and wouldn’t have broken up with me by text. But in my misery (luckily my new job was very relaxed and I could work from home, and at the time I was doing testing, very repetitive and simple work, so I said I was sick and worked from home that week, and barely actually worked but did enough that nobody knew) I pushed reality away and instead convinced myself that if we were just friends for a while she would come to her senses and see value in me.

And so we went for coffee and talked, and agreed to just be friends and that’s it for now; it at least made me feel a bit better, to the extent that I could actually eat something and have enough energy to get out of bed for once in nearly a week. And then the cycle began again - we continued to talk almost like we had before, and we continued to hang out - basically the only difference was now I didn’t get to hold her hand or cuddle or kiss her goodbye, but it still felt like there was definitely something more there, and I know I wasn’t just being crazy - I’m used to people not liking me, to people not being interested in me, and that simply wasn’t the case; she gave very clear signals that she liked me, that I know, not just on my own feeling but even by describing things objectively to other people that actually know about this stuff. 

And so stupidly I continued seeing her, and things were pretty much the same; I’d always bring her one of her favourite drinks, I’d surprise her on her breaks at work (which was like a 20-minute drive for me each way just to see her for a maximum of half an hour, but I didn’t care), we went for dinner (and of course I paid for everything, because I’ve always wanted to be able to take someone out and do things with someone), we even went to a big mall near Vancouver (about an hour away) to walk around and go to different little stores there, which I’d normally hate but I enjoyed because it was with her, and I even bought her a couple little things she liked. 

Her birthday was coming up, less than a month after we had broken up; I had already gotten her several little things, including hand-made pins I had found online from her favourite game Bioshock (she loved things like that) that I had mailed to her along with a nice letter since she had mentioned how much she liked getting things in the mail - I had sent her half of the pins I bought, and planned to give her the rest for her birthday. I had planned to take her to “Fright Night” at Playland (an amusement park in Vancouver, Playland had a special Halloween themed event every October where all month long each night you could go to the park, where they had Halloween decorations and haunted houses etc. set up) - she loved amusement parks and Halloween, and hadn’t been to Fright Nights (nor had I) so I figured it was a great plan. I had already told her (prior to breaking up) that I wanted to take her to it, since tickets were for a certain day it had to be planned to fit our schedules; but since I had gotten her other things (including a cool Monopoly collector’s edition of another of her favourite games, Fallout, and several other things that she loved) and given that we were no longer dating, I figured it might not be a good idea, not to mention it was also expensive. 

So I told her maybe it wasn’t the best idea to go out for Fright Night together, but I said I still had gifts for her. She didn’t seem to understand why I said it wasn’t a good idea idea and no longer wanted to (because apparently breaking up with someone shouldn’t change anything?), but said that was fine. I visited her on her birthday and gave her her gifts, which she seemed to genuinely love, and said that it was so nice because people had never really given her gifts - even her family didn’t do much for birthdays and didn’t celebrate much for Christmas either, so she seemed to genuinely appreciate someone who cared and gave her thoughtful gifts. We went out for ice cream at Dairy Queen, and that was when I decided that maybe Fright Night would still be fun to go to, and asked if she’d still like to go and we could find a time that worked, as it was still on for another week or two. Instead, she was going to see her dad the one morning so the night I suggested wouldn’t work; multiple others would have but she said not to bother and essentially got mad at me because I had suggested it and insinuated it was my fault for not wanting to go.

I had just showered her with gifts, taken her out for ice cream, and was seemingly the only person in her life that had cared to give her anything for her birthday that year and yet when I offered something additional she was angry at me for changing my mind on something, and seemed bitter that she wouldn’t get to go (even though I was literally offering to take her). Again confused, we simply moved on and talked about other things. 

Less than a week after her birthday, she came out to my house (which was weird as she didn’t enjoy driving for anything longer than a few minutes, and hadn’t driven to my place before, it was always me going to hers or taking her to my house) and we went out for a nice dinner. We had a great time and then at home I introduced her to the new Doom; she liked metal music and Doom has that kind of soundtrack, plus is insanely violent and fun and she liked that sort of game so I figured it would be fun to play, and sure enough she loved it. We had fun playing but at one point when talking about games she outright called me a dork, and not in a usual playful manner; I quipped “you’re a dork too, I thought you said dorkiness was cute” and she simply replied that “yeah well that was before”. I didn’t even reply, I was just confused as to how something that before someone liked, was all of a sudden a bad thing and used as an insult; she legitimately was insulting me. I didn’t understand but just ignored it and continued enjoying what was a nice night. That ended up being the last time I ever saw her. 

By Halloween, we were still talking regularly throughout the day via text, but she seemed not as interested in talking; nevertheless we still texted, and I mentioned since we were both at home not doing anything, maybe we could hang out and watch a scary movie or something for Halloween. She started talking about how she wanted to go out and go to a bar or something (which was weird, she had never really enjoyed that sort of thing from what she had said in the past, and like me didn’t exactly have many friends to do that with, nor did she drink much and of course I never have) and seemed annoyed that I wasn’t interested, so we didn’t meet up. Then over the next few days, I had texted her a few times and she read my texts but never responded - that was really odd, as she always responded when she got my messages, as did I to hers. When I asked if everything was alright she essentially told me to stop messaging her and said she wanted a break from talking to me. I asked how I was supposed to magically know that if she didn’t at least tell me and she basically said well I’m telling you now so f- off.

So I did, and we didn’t talk for several more days. I sent her one message after almost a week had gone by and asked if everything was going okay, and got no response. I had a bad feeling, and just from my gut instinct decided to look on Tinder - I still had my account and even had it on my phone, though I was hidden and she was my only match, but I kept it because I wanted to keep our old messages (I had even showed her that before, so not like I was secretly using Tinder or something while going out with her). I looked on her profile and sure enough, it had been updated since we had gone out, with one picture being taken just days ago on her profile (I knew that because it was from a concert she went to with her mom on her birthday). And that was what finally broke my self-imposed illusion that this girl actually gave a shit about me at all.

Deep down I knew her excuses for breaking up were bullshit, and that if she wanted to be with me, she would be. She had told me about her prior two relationships, one which had lasted about six months and one about 4 years throughout school; both apparently would treat her like shit, but she always stayed, and her own mother said she was always attracted to the “bad boys” who were losers and not worth being around, which was why her mom was so happy when she had met me. But apparently that was her type; after all, here I was treating her like a princess, being nothing but good to her and yet I wasn’t worthy of a chance or even being told the truth. I confronted her and was angry, leaving several messages, and even still she had the nerve to lie, saying she was just looking for friends (in her own words from talking before, nobody on Tinder is there for friends, only either a relationship or hookups and girls that say otherwise are lying) and then said it was suspicious that I was even looking at Tinder, as if it was me who was untrustworthy. 

We got into a big fight and finally I knew that anything with her was done; I wasn’t going to be lied to anymore and I wasn’t going to let someone use me and treat me like an asshole anymore. It went back to the break up and she said she didn’t give me a chance because she felt I wasn’t worth it. She said I put too much effort in (I had never heard of that, normally it’s not putting in enough effort, and too much effort seems like a very simple thing to address with _communication) _and would text her too much which she found clingy - again, something she never had said before or told me about, and she _always _replied and started conversations just as much as I did - it takes two to talk after all. I was very clear from the beginning that I found communication to be important, and made it clear that because of my social anxiety (something she supposedly understood as she also had anxiety) I had trouble sometimes reading social ques so if she wanted me to do something or didn’t like something, all she had to do was mention it and it wouldn’t be a big issue. From the get go I was very reasonable and responsive; if she told me she didn’t like something she never had to tell me again, quite literally, yet she was blaming me for things that if they were actually a problem, simply telling me would have fixed it, but instead she said nothing then resented me for it. 

Despite calling me all manners of things, to which I said she was sociopathic, because of the amount of vitriol she had towards someone who in her own words did nothing wrong towards her and how she refused to take any responsibility whatsoever for anything she did, as if it was my fault I couldn’t read her mind. Full disclosure - I called her a bitch when I saw her profile on Tinder. I even had the stupidity to apologize for that (not like she apologized for calling me way worse things). Then she had the nerve to call me verbally abusive - I wasn’t the one telling her to go to hell, or calling her all manner of names in every single message, but somehow I was the verbally abusive one. I told her that she legitimately needs help and hope she tries to get it and said goodbye, to which she said she hopes my mental illness (she knew I was depressed and had social anxiety, I had even let her read my last post about it, and ironically she also had depression and anxiety problems) eats me alive and that I’ll die alone because I’d never find anyone else.  

I couldn’t believe I had been so wrong about someone. I felt like an absolute moron for believing so strongly in someone who ended up being everything I thought she wasn’t, everything she said she wasn’t. I couldn’t believe someone I would have done anything for could resent me so much, and all this despite me having truly not done anything wrong toward her, even in her own words. All I had ever wanted was a chance, and when I finally (thought) I had one, I never really did in the first place. 

I am not perfect, and I am not going to say I was, but I was a great boyfriend and person to her. Normally I can look back at situations and find a million things I’ve done wrong or want to do better, but this time, I really couldn’t. Maybe I shared too much at times, maybe I did talk a bit too much, maybe I was trying a bit too hard, but I know that I treated her right, I know that I did everything I could, I know that I was more than generous and caring toward her, and I didn’t deserve to be treated how I was. I went above and beyond, and looking back, she really didn’t reciprocate - I didn’t ask or expect for all that much, but she never went out of her way for me once while I bent over backwards for her and was always there to help with whatever she needed at the drop of a hat.

Funnily enough, I had posted something on Instagram about what I was going through - I didn’t go into specifics, I didn’t tag her or have her name anywhere, and I never really used Instagram but we talked through the app often, and I had something like 10 followers - the only people I know on it in real life are my mom and sister. She had already deleted me on it, and there was nothing derogatory, nor anything that wasn’t true or simply how I felt, yet she texted me telling me to remove it. She seemed more upset that I would post something about the situation than about anything that happened or anything she did, which let me know just how vain she was - especially since she was never mentioned by name or anything specific, and literally no one she knew could even see it (the only people I knew on there that could were my mom and sister, who already knew what happened anyway). 

Ironically if I had wanted to post a picture of us or her I couldn’t have anyway - we never took one. Although I’ve always hated pictures of myself, it upset me after we broke up that after about a month of dating I didn’t have a single picture of her or us together. In fact the only thing I had from over two months of knowing her (dating then attempting to be friends) was a little keychain she had made for me that said “MMA” in a circular disc with some splotches of colour behind it. She liked making little trinkets and keychains from plaster and resin molds, and a few weeks into going out she gave me one. Although I liked it at the time and thought it was sweet, looking back, I had showered her with gifts and spent way more money on her than I should have, and all she had ever given me was a little keychain which she made tons of and was making a batch for herself anyway. I threw it out; I’d rather now have nothing to remember her by.

About a month after I stopped talking to her, I made the mistake of looking at her Instagram (who can honestly say they’ve never done something similar?) and was surprised to already see a picture of some other guy on her Instagram, along with lewd comments back and forth with this person on the picture. She must have really gone out of her way to hide her true self when around me, and at least I can take some solace in the fact that things never went any further than a kiss with her. It wasn’t long after I saw her profile pop back up on Tinder, so who knows how many guys she’s gone through since - can’t say I care about her at all anymore, and maybe she’s found her true calling as a slut, who knows.

Anyway, back to my story.

And so just like that my life was back to normal. No one to really talk to, nowhere I felt I belonged, my hopes dashed and my illusions of finding someone who truly cared about me shattered. Another week I stayed home from work, barely achieving anything, barely eating, sleeping most of the night and day, not bothering to leave the house. Normally I was a master of hiding my misery, but now my parents were genuinely concerned about me, something I hated. Just like that I was back to where I was before I had met her, now even worse, more miserable than ever.

I don’t have many major regrets in life - I have many little ones, things I should have done or shouldn’t have as a kid, minor mistakes I’ve made, and I felt now that meeting her was a mistake. I can’t say that I _regret _my actions, at least not of meeting and going out with her, because there was no way I could have known it would turn out this way or she would be something completely different than what she presented herself as. I thought I had a chance and opportunity to find what I’ve always wanted, and I can’t fault myself for going after that. I regret not sticking to my initial instincts and logic and not cutting off contact with her after she broke up with me, but I also understand why it was so impossible for me to do, because I couldn’t just accept defeat and not try my hardest to keep what I felt was special. 

My biggest regret though was not listening to the voice in my head, that one night driving home from her house. That voice that told me I could finally die happy, right here and now. Somehow, my subconscious seemed to know things weren’t going to last, and for a fleeting moment which was effectively suppressed, it told me that my chance was right then. I could have simply died that night, and would never know depression again. I could have died happy; even if it was bullshit, my happiness was real, and it could have been the last thing I felt, never having to wake myself up to the nightmare that is the rest of my life. That is a regret I will likely have for the rest of my life, as (hopefully) short or as long as it may be. 

Oddly enough, I had managed to find a friend from all of this; someone who I had previously talked to months before, that seemed nice and caring and to be genuinely a good person. We had effectively “friend-zoned” each other (even though we hadn’t met, we had just talked through a dating app) already, mainly because I’ve never been a big fan of kids and her whole life revolved around them, but that didn’t mean we couldn’t be friends. Unfortunately through a series of oddities (mostly revolving around texts not going through on her old phone, which she later even showed me) we hadn’t talked in a long time and I thought she had ghosted me. One day I had asked her opinion and thoughts on my situation shortly after breaking up with my girlfriend, as she was the only other girl I knew and I wasn’t overly comfortable talking with my parents about it, and I thought she could help me understand things - unfortunately, you can only understand so much about an illogical person.

But through all this we had become friends, and started talking more. She started to help me after I was no longer talking to my ex, and soon we were talking every day. We became best friends, and she still is my best friend to this day; we talk all the time about our lives and help each other get through things, and occasionally meet up to talk in person over coffee (well she has coffee, I have nothing or drink water because I’m weird and hate coffee). So at least I had one good thing going for me in the last year.

After a while, I summoned the courage (mostly at the behest of my best friend) to get back on all the dating apps. It was more of the same of course, but shortly before Christmas, one girl responded to me and quickly seemed interested in meeting me. We hadn’t actually talked much but she said she preferred talking face-to-face rather than through text, which was kind of weird for me (especially since everyone texts nowadays) but I figured I couldn’t say no when someone was actually interested in meeting me. So I decided to take the chance, even though I didn’t know a whole lot about her - I did know she was at least a real person, as she sent me a picture on Snapchat to prove it (I’m sure as hell not getting cat-fished by anyone). 

So I went on a date with this girl, and it went awry pretty much immediately. Despite looking gorgeous in her pictures, and even in the Snapchat one she sent me, she looked quite a bit less appealing in person - it was clearly the same person, but somehow at the same time looked incredibly different. It’s hard to describe properly, but it was as if she had a much better looking sister who was in the pictures, to put it lightly. I still don’t know how she did it, because as far as I know other than Snapchat filters you can’t edit a timed picture through Snapchat, but it was quite off-putting to see someone who didn’t look like their pictures, even if it was seemingly the right person.

Nevertheless, we had dinner together and I felt like I did a pretty good job trying to converse, but it was incredibly awkward. You know the first few minutes of meeting someone, where everything is kind of awkward and you don’t know what to say? It was like that the entire time, because I was asking questions and trying to get her to talk, but she wasn’t being very talkative...something that is incredibly odd given it’s normally me who is more awkward and not very good at speaking to people. We also didn’t have really anything in common, and by the way she talked it would appear she was an alcoholic, which was kind of awkward considering that I have never and will never drink (something she couldn’t seem to get over and kept mentioning). It was not enjoyable but I still did my best and was a gentleman, I paid for dinner and after she seemed to want to do something so we decided to walk around the little mall that was right across from where we had dinner. I didn’t want to but I didn’t want to seem rude and tried to make the best of it, but on the way it just became clear we really didn’t have much in common. By the time we circled back I was counting the seconds to when I’d get to drive home, she gave me a hug and said we should go out again some time...I politely said “Sure” while in the back of my head I screamed “NO” and wondered if she was being serious. I called my best friend and described the date to her (she found it hysterical, though she kept saying sorry I also found it quite funny just how awkward and poorly it went) and helped me with what I’d text to the girl to politely let her down - I didn’t really know how someone could think that went well, but maybe I was more charming than I would have thought possible given the awkwardness of the date. 

She had texted me thanking me for the date and said she had a great time (again I found it odd as to how she could have enjoyed what I found to be thoroughly uncomfortable and awkward the entire time) and I kindly sent her a nice message which essentially boiled down to the fact I didn’t feel we had much in common but had a nice time and wished her luck. 

And that was the last girl I talked to for a while, back to the depths of being ignored on stupid dating apps. Or so I thought - at my job, I worked with only a few other people, one of which is a woman (she isn’t a programmer, basically she’s a project manager). On a new project, I had started working on some website development that needed to be done quickly, and since I had lots of experience from my prior job with web development, they had me take over for the few weeks of work that were needed rather than outsourcing it. This other employee was now working more with me, and I found her to be nice, though a bit weird; she, along with my boss, were the ones that hired me for the company, and prior to this I hadn’t really talked to her besides saying hey in the morning or saying bye when leaving the office, and for a few little things like setting up my employee benefits and such. She is older than me, being in her early thirties, has two kids and is married, and seemed nice enough though.

For the project she would text me through Google Hangouts (that’s how we tend to communicate for this job, and you can get it on your phone or in a browser), and she is someone who works late - she would always come in much later in the mornings, but would stay up late working instead - so I didn’t think much of it when she’d text me later in the evening about work, as that’s when she normally worked. She started asking more about me, and I assumed it was because I was still the “new guy”, and everyone else in the office seemed to know quite a bit about each other so I assumed that was her way of getting to know me. It wasn’t long before she was starting to text me later in the evening and no longer about work, asking me my favourite music and what games I like, etcetera. It started feeling odd to me, and talking with my best friend she joked (at least I thought she was joking) that it meant she liked me. I didn’t think that could be the case, as girls liking me has never really been a thing as you can probably tell, and this one was married with kids, so I figured she was just being friendly and was a little weird.

Well, then it got really weird. She is really into music and several of the musicians/bands she was talking about I had never heard of, so now she was sending me Youtube videos of the songs. I listened to a few seconds of each but didn’t like them, and just found it annoying but she’s essentially my boss so I couldn’t exactly say to stop messaging me, and that’s when things turned weirder. She said that she likes to talk through music and that she was sending me a message through the songs...I didn’t get it, from looking at the titles of them and I didn’t want to sit through the entire songs so I said I didn’t understand, then she said she’d make it more obvious for me...and sent me a song that even I could figure out the message of - it was a song pretty explicitly about sex, and then I realized my friend was right and now I was more uncomfortable than you could imagine. I immediately texted back, cautiously, asking “Uhm I thought you are married?” to which she basically explained her husband is an alcoholic and she’s staying because of the kids, but likes me and I’m “her type” (which is kind of odd, considering she smokes, drinks, seems to be a party person, etc.)...meanwhile I was frantically texting my bestie to ask what in the fuck to say. 

I then went to the fact that I’ve never wanted kids and politely stated that I wouldn’t want to be involved with someone who is married and has kids, and wouldn’t be ready to deal with that either, even stating I’ve only had the one girlfriend and it was only for a month, so I’d never be ready to be involved with that kind of thing. Not taking the hint, she then said it didn’t have to be complicated and basically stated it would just be for sex, to which I had to basically explain my views on sex and why I wouldn’t be okay with that, to someone who is essentially my boss. Being that I work with her, I couldn’t exactly say that I find what she’s saying disgusting and morally despicable, so that was my best option. She basically said she found that sweet and that it was okay, and said not to worry she wouldn’t be awkward or anything and that it was fine just to be friends, so at least that part was over...or so I thought.

To put it bluntly, while she isn’t unattractive, I find her to be quite gross; she’s married and willing to cheat on her spouse (regardless of excuses or circumstances, if those are even true), wants to hook up with someone she doesn’t even know that well, doesn’t seem to like her kids all that much, and on top of all that smokes cigarettes, which I find pretty gross. And of course, the whole “I won’t be awkward” thing was a lie. She was very awkward from then on, calling me into her office for help even when it was for things that before she would have just texted me for and take only a few seconds to help with. She was coming over to my desk and getting super close to me; when a coworker had a few of us over at his desk to show us something she kept brushing up against me; one time when going into her office I literally saw her pull down her shirt to expose her cleavage right before I came in; and another time she seemingly dropped a pen (why she had a pen on her to come see something on my computer, without paper in sight, I have no idea) by my desk that looked pretty clearly to be on purpose then literally turned away from me and bent over right in front of me, as if that was totally appropriate. I finally had to tell her that I was uncomfortable with her when she was starting to talk about personal things again on Hangouts, and kindly asked that we keep it strictly professional. This was during/just after New Year’s at this point, and she stopped texting me about personal things, but was still being awkward and suggestive toward me at work. I was so uncomfortable at work when she was there (luckily she would work from home quite a bit so that wasn’t every day) that I was considering quitting outright, despite loving everything else about the job. 

My boss and this coworker had been friends for years from work, and she had been with the company for a long time, meanwhile I was someone who hadn’t even been there six months, so if I told someone about it, it would be awkward and uncomfortable as hell for me and probably cause tension in the office. Even though I took screenshots for proof of what she had been sending me just in case, if she said she stopped and it was just the awkwardness around me there’s not a whole lot they could do without seeing it themselves and it would just be hearsay (and given her seniority, if they were going to get rid of someone because of it, it would be me). So here I felt trapped, and she was making the job that I liked dreadful for me. Luckily, I just kept ignoring her and she finally seemed to take the hint, and at that point I was legitimately starting to look for other jobs online. She stopped and the project we had been working on was finally complete (perfect timing) so I was back to working with my boss directly, rather than on a project she was working on, so the problem slowly faded away.

The cruel irony was not lost on me however; here I was, trying as best I could to find someone that liked me for who I am and that enjoyed my company, trying everything I could to find someone willing to give me a chance, and here is a woman that is genuinely interested in me, yet for things I wouldn’t do and who is someone I find morally disgusting. At least I could say a girl honestly liked me I suppose?

A few months later I started talking to someone else online, and we hit it off. She was very text-y like me and we talked all day, had things in common, and was pretty inexperienced like me but was someone who (seemed) to have good morals and be a reasonable and funny person. We even talked on the phone multiple times (I’ve never been good at or enjoyed talking on the phone and am almost as awkward on the phone as I am in person, even though it doesn’t make me nearly as anxious) and I not only enjoyed talking to her but didn’t seem to be overly awkward on the phone either with her, which was a minor miracle in itself.

I asked her out on a date and she accepted - we made plans to go for lunch and then go to a local amusement park by my house (not one with rides or anything, but they have mini-golf, arcade games, batting cages, go carts, etc.). I was going to pick her up first (she lived about 20 minutes away from me) as she liked going for drives, so we could talk and get used to each other before doing anything - then as things got closer, all the plans started to change. First, she said she wanted to see her friend (who lived near me) after our date, so she’d meet me for lunch instead of me picking her up, which I was fine with. We picked a restaurant that she liked, and that was the plan. Then the day before when we were talking about what time we’d meet, she then started saying how she wanted to go to her little cousin’s (I think it was a cousin, can’t quite remember now) hockey game before coming out, and it wouldn’t be over until the afternoon, and with her meeting her friend after, she wouldn’t have lots of time, so she just wanted to do lunch and nothing after. Although it was making me much more anxious (I’m already nervous enough meeting someone, but when plans aren’t set and I don’t know what exactly is happening it makes things much worse) I was accommodating and said that was okay. 

Then the morning of, still not knowing exactly when she’d be coming, I got ready and texted her trying to figure it out, when she basically said she didn’t want to go for lunch when first meeting me (I don’t know why she couldn’t have said so earlier or right away) and even after me trying to explain it wasn’t a big deal, she basically said she’d rather not come out anymore at all. At this point I was getting very frustrated and anxious and didn’t understand, and asked why she’d agree to go on a date if she clearly didn’t want to go, and she basically said she did she’d rather just meet up and talk and not do anything else. I again said that was fine, and she could just let me know where and when to meet me. Then she said she wanted to come pick me up and just drive around or stop at a coffee shop - I didn’t really like this idea, I’m used to being the driver and it felt weird being picked up by a girl on a first “date” but she insisted so I said fine. Eventually she said she was on her way and picked me up, and we ended up going to the amusement park and just sitting outside to talk. It felt awkward but as we started talking more it wasn’t so bad. Of course she had to run so we didn’t talk for very long, and I was back home within an hour. It wasn’t a date, it was just like a quick meeting she seemed like she had been dragged to, and purposely sandwiched between other things that were hastily planned so that she had good reason to escape quickly.

We kept messaging and it didn’t take long for her to say she wanted to be friends but nothing more, as she didn’t “feel” it. At this point I was quite annoyed - she had been flirting with me and seemed extremely interested, accepted a date then basically butchered it and had suddenly lost interest. I called her out on it, saying that she had clearly already decided before even meeting me and I was tired of the same old bullshit from people, making excuses instead of just being honest. She admitted that she got anxious and that was why she kept changing the plans, yet I had already told her about my anxiety and she had explained she had some problems with anxiety as well, and instead of just being honest she made things way worse. She apologized for that and then went into the “it’s not you, it’s me” excuse of saying that her ex-boyfriend moved back into town recently and she still thinks she has feelings for him, and that’s why - despite the fact she had said they had dated and she ended up dumping him because she didn’t have feelings for him and that he ended up being pushy, and this was a few years prior. I was fed up and told her exactly how I felt - that she was making more excuses and changing her story instead of being honest, and she was fucking with me in a vain attempt of being nice rather than being truthful, and said I didn’t want to talk to her any more. 

She of course said she was being honest and said I was being immature and she was sorry about changing the plans and all but that I should understand because I have anxiety too. So then, going a little too far, I sent her the link to my previous Tumblr post and said she had no idea what I know or how I felt...the one detailing my anxiety and depression...and said goodbye.

A few minutes later she kept calling me (I ignored them and said I don’t like talking on the phone so stop it, which was true and she knew that) and then she said she was crying and didn’t know and felt so bad. I had just meant to show that to say I didn’t understand anxiety and was being immature was silly, I hadn’t meant to upset her or anything like that, though I can understand how it would upset someone to read something like my post. We talked a bit and she said she really wanted to be friends and I said I’d need time to think about it which she respected, but I knew with how I felt it was just going to end up biting me in the ass.

I talked it over with my best friend and she said I should give it a chance to be friends with her as she could clearly tell I really liked talking to her and it made me happy, but I knew it would just end up with me being hurt as she wouldn’t have feelings for me. After a few days however, and not talking to her during this time, I of course just had to change my mind and try. I told her that I would be her friend and keep talking to her, but I might not really be able to actually see her or hang out, which she accepted and understood.

And so it started again, and it didn’t take long for her to start getting flirty and suggesting she had feelings for me (and it wasn’t just me thinking that, I showed my best friend some of the texts and she thought it was pretty clear too). A week or two later she even came by my house before going to her friend’s (she basically called me a while before and asked if I’d want to hang out, which was kind of out of nowhere but I said yes anyway) and she came in and we played Rocket League together. We had a lot of fun even though she didn’t stay very long, and she gave me a hug when she left. She was clearly giving out mixed signals with the way she was talking to me, and I asked her about it later that night and she said she still just wanted to be friends. I told her that if that’s the case she has to stop with the mixed signals, it wasn’t fair at all and if she didn’t stop I couldn’t talk to her anymore. She seemed to understand, apologized and promised she wouldn’t do it anymore.

It didn’t take long for that to change again, and a few days later she basically invited me to watch a movie with her at her place. By then I had already gotten my hopes up again, because how could I not? She was clearly interested in me, or at least blatantly conveying that, and we talked all day and enjoyed having our conversations. 

And then it fell apart again. I asked her about it and she said she just wanted to be friends, nothing more. I confronted her about how she could say that when she’s been flirting with me and clearly suggesting something more and keeps doing it even after promising not to, and she even acknowledged doing that and apologized. I told her I couldn’t do this anymore, she clearly didn’t understand how hard it is for me with these kinds of things, to which she started pleading with me to still be friends, saying how she loved talking to me and how important I was to her - which again made no sense to me, because if I was this important, and she clearly had feelings for me, why was I not good enough for anything more?

She eventually admitted that she was talking to someone else too and though she has feelings for me, she liked this other guy more. She even stated that I was “perfect for her” but somehow that wasn’t good enough. I had even said how I feel about people who go out with multiple people at once or string people along while talking to someone else, which she had agreed with, and yet here she was doing it. I told her that I didn’t deserve to just be some second choice and that I was done talking to her. She kept apologizing and pleading with me (again confusing as to how I was so important to her if I was just the backup option) and eventually I gave her a choice - either she goes on a real date with me and gives me an actual chance, or I’m done talking to her - those were the two options. She said “fine” and that she’d go on a date, and I clarified that meant she had to stop talking to whoever it was she was talking to, and then that date was off the table. I told her that she made her choice then and to stop contacting me. She again pleaded and I made it clear she had the two options, those were the only ones she had and I was being more than fair, and shouldn’t even be giving her yet another chance. She said she wanted to think about it and so I said to go ahead.

After a few days she went back home to visit her family (she grew up and lived several hours north and only moved near me recently, with most of her family still being up north) and then texted me saying that the whole drive she was thinking hard about things. She basically said that she’s lived her whole life in a small town, is in a city now (compared to the small town she came from at least) and wants to explore life, wants to go on dates that turn out horribly, wants to meet new people, and so on and so forth. I didn’t really get how being in a relationship would somehow hinder exploring life (rather I believe it would enhance it) and why on earth someone would _want _to go on dates that turned out badly I’ll never know. The more she talked the more it sounded like another “it’s not you it’s me” speech. She again kept going on about still wanting to be friends, and after more questions she finally admitted that “although she was probably making a mistake” she still liked this other person more and that was a big factor in her decision. 

Even when she was supposedly being sincere and open, she couldn’t respect me enough to tell me the whole truth unless it was forced out of her. By this point I had enough and finally stuck to my guns and told her I didn’t want to talk to her again, and that was that. She was possibly the most insincere person I have ever met.

After this, any hope I had was pretty much dead. I still tried to talk to new people, but even on the rare occasion I received a reply or two, gone was any excitement or hope that maybe someone was interested in at least talking to me. It was just an inevitability that I would be “ghosted” and now when it happened, it was no longer even disappointing - it was just expected and didn’t make any difference. 

A few months later and I found another girl that was actually replying, and although in my head I was indifferent (I still talked the same as always, and through text I’m more than capable of interesting conversation, in my opinion at least) she seemed extremely interested and was as text-y as I am - rather than short replies as most people text, she would send lengthy paragraphs and even a full screen of text at once, something that I appreciated and reciprocated with long texts of my own (as you can probably tell, I’m a very descriptive writer). After a while I felt some of that hope return - she seemed eager to meet me, loved videogames almost as much as I do, and had a lot of things in common with me. I eventually said “fuck it” and asked her on a date, and she happily said yes. She had said she wasn’t feeling good over the prior few days, so when I asked I said after she felt better, therefore we didn’t have any actual plan in place yet. 

We continued talking, then all of a sudden she stopped even looking at my texts - I had sent one to continue the conversation we were having, and after a day of seeing she hadn’t read it, I sent her another asking if everything was alright. A few more days passed, and again no response, my messages still left unread. One more message and a week passed without response, so I figured once again I had been ghosted. I was frustrated and annoyed - she basically got my hopes up again only to leave me in the dust with no explanation or even a goodbye. 

After just over a week she finally responded and said sorry, saying that she had some “stuff to figure out” and she didn’t mean to ignore me. I told her that it was okay but explained (and we had already naturally talked about how important communication is to both of us) that I have a problem with a lack of communication - if she was going through something she could always talk to me and I would help as best I could or if she needed space that was fine too, but just ignoring me for a week with no explanation just causes me to worry and think the worst and isn’t fair. She seemed to understand and kept apologizing, and we went back to talking like normal. Then later that night, I had figured she had gone to bed as she hadn’t replied in a few hours, only to look (we were talking on Snapchat, as using text messages can sometimes be spotty where I live) and see that she had blocked me. 

No explanation, no goodbye, right after apologizing and then acting like everything was all good again, we went back to having a nice conversation, and all of a sudden I was blocked. She hadn’t even read my last response so it couldn’t have even been something I said. And that was the last time I got my hopes up.

Any hope I had for finding someone was thoroughly killed at this point. Over five years of my life, trying everything I could to find someone, taking other people’s advice on how to start conversations and make myself more presentable, getting my best friend to help me, trying everything I could think of just to try and find someone that liked me for who I am, yet here I am, still alone and without anything to show for it.

I turned 24 in the summer, and like the last few birthdays, it was just another miserable day I didn’t look forward to. All I had ever wanted in life was to find someone that I could share myself with, could spend my time with and love, and that actually liked me back. Unfortunately, that’s not something that can be bought or gifted, and no amount of help would seemingly allow that to happen for me either. 

I had looked forward to my birthday dinner with my best friend - earlier in the year I took her out for sushi for her birthday, and for mine we were going to go to a local restaurant that she really liked but I had never been to. She was and is the only person in my life besides my close family that actually cares about me and likes who I am, and we didn’t see each other much in the last couple months as she had been really busy (she always has a million things going on, polar opposite of me). So she invited me when it fit in her schedule, and on the day of, just a few hours before, she cancelled. 

For the last while before that when she made plans (she always picked the time/day as her schedule was always hectic, which was fine with me) to go for coffee or hang out, something would always pop up and she would end up cancelling. I’d like to think I’m a pretty understanding person - I know she has a full schedule and things come up, but after it happened many times in a row, it was starting to become annoying - she would pick the time and day, and a few hours before she would cancel, and not always have a decent explanation why. I knew that she didn’t do that with other people, and it started to get frustrating especially given how anxious I get just leaving the house, and then to have plans constantly cancelled just made it even more stressful. I said as much and she kept apologizing and we didn’t see each other for quite a while until she made plans for my birthday. Since she was really into birthdays and was excited I figured at least for the hour or two she booked in her schedule to go to dinner with me for my birthday she’d make it a priority this time.

Then of course, a few hours before, she messaged me about how the carpet wasn’t right (her and her boyfriend were moving in to a house and were redoing a room) and that she had to be the one to fix it - the story sounded flimsy at best, especially since her boyfriend could have handled things or we could have just gone a bit later or something after she picked the new one, but nope, she was going to be busy until late that night so that was that. I was extremely disappointed and told her not to bother making plans with me anymore because every single time she just cancels last minute; she kept apologizing and saying she was such a horrible friend and making it into her bashing herself for it, but I was mad and didn’t want to hear it anymore and told her to stop. The best friend I’ve ever had, who always talked about how important I was in her life and talked to me every day, and yet I felt like I wasn’t even important enough to take an hour out of her day to see me for my birthday. 

We continued talking later and I just ignored it, and it basically just went away - we didn’t meet up to hang out for coffee until over a month later. Since then it’s just kind of gone back to normal, every once in a while we’ll go talk for a while in person, and we no longer plan anything much in advance so at least I don’t have to deal with plans being scrapped, which is nice. 

In terms of the rest of my life, I’m still working and like my job, and am saving up to buy an apartment (it’s ridiculously expensive in my area nowadays, even for small and old places). I spend my time watching fights, playing videogames, and that’s about it. I still have dating apps, but I no longer even bother trying to converse with people - I still have a funny and honest PowerPoint presentation I put together to describe myself (and it’s pretty clever if I do say so myself, I have gotten many compliments on it - even if those people aren’t actually interested, they like my PowerPoint) but now I basically use the apps as my version of people-watching since I don’t get out much. I’ll send sarcastic and snarky comments to people based on stuff from their profile for fun, and that’s about it. 

Last week I took some vacation time from work since I had extra days saved that don’t roll over into the new work year. I was happy that I got both Forza Horizon 4 and Assassin’s Creed Odyssey in the same week, and both games are incredible. I played the hell out of both and thoroughly enjoyed them, yet I was still not happy. I sent tons of Snapchat stories to my best friend talking about the games, especially Forza which looks downright ridiculous in 4K (undoubtedly annoying the hell out of her, but she never complained) and bugged my parents talking about it. I always feel the need to tell people close to me about stuff going on or things that I really like, but none of that fills the gaping void in my life, wishing I had someone to really share my life with and to share in theirs. It’s something I can never seem to stop thinking about and wishing for, even when I know that it’s something I’ll likely never have.

At this point, I am resigned to knowing that I’ll always be alone. No matter how hard I try, no matter how many times I pick myself back up and try again, no matter how much I think someone may actually like me, it makes no difference. I think I’m a good person; I’m far from perfect, but I always try to do the right thing, to do right by other people, and no matter what I adhere to my own moral code, even if it’s inconvenient to do so (something that seems to be a hard concept for a lot of people to grasp nowadays). I’m confident in things I know and things I am good at; I know that I’m intelligent, I’m funny and have a wide range of humour, I’m reasonable and logical, I’m responsible and mature (especially for my age), I’m loyal to a fault, I’m passionate about the things I believe in and enjoy, I’m honest and open, and I’m a caring and compassionate person. But in the end, it doesn’t seem to ever make any difference.

For some reason, it’s never enough. I don’t know if people just see me as not being good enough, or just being unattractive (which I am, but I can objectively say I’ve seen much less attractive people that have no trouble finding people), or just don’t like my personality. It always seems to come down to me just being unlikable, though I rarely get to know exactly why anyone feels that way. The only thing that has ever made me happy, and the only thing that seems to help me with my depression, is the thing I can never actually have, or even get a real chance at trying to acquire. 

And so I go through life one day at a time - I wake up wishing I hadn’t, I go to sleep wishing it was the last time I ever have to fall asleep. I’m stuck in my own purgatory, unable to pull myself out. The best option I have is to simply fade into nothingness and escape to the cold embrace of death, where happiness is no longer even a thought, but neither is depression or loneliness. It is simply nothing - no thoughts, no memories, no dreams, nothing - and that has been a much more enticing existence (or lack thereof) than my own for many years.

But I am chained to life, for I couldn’t bring it upon myself to transfer parts of my own misery on to the few people in my life that I love and that love me. Though in the logical sense my passing wouldn’t make much difference at all to the world, I know my family and my best friend would be devastated to lose their loved one. I see death differently than most because of who I am - for someone who is miserable, for someone who _wants _to die, it is a release; there is no more suffering, no more pain, no more loneliness, no more longing. Though that person may no longer be in your life, they no longer have to be miserable, they no longer have anything bad happen to them, they no longer have to worry about a thing. 

I don’t like to talk much about “deserving” something, at least not when it comes to myself. Life rarely gives people what they deserve, and therefore “deserving” anything in life means very little. I’m not someone who feels entitled to much, and I’m not sure that I deserve to be happy - I’ve seen far greater people than I fail to be happy with their lives, but I’ve also seen far worse who couldn’t be happier. Life is just the way it is, and I’m not sure anyone can rightly judge themselves on what exactly they deserve, but I do think I deserve one thing - death.

I don’t feel I deserve to die because I am a bad person (which I don’t think I am), or because I’ve done something wrong, or even because anyone else wants me dead. No, I deserve to die because that is what I want, that is what I feel is my best option, and because I feel that I am a decent person. I don’t feel that I should have to continue to be miserable and hate life anymore. I’m exhausted and have no more hope left to run on.

Yet here I am, continuing on with my never-ending march toward insanity, dreaming of finally reaching my goal at the end of my pursuit of nothingness.

With my penchant for irony I’ll probably live to be one hundred, but I can take at least some solace in the fact that eventually, somehow, I will be granted my final wish - nothingness.

[ahainesmajortwo2021]

ANIMATION FILM - DEVELOPMENT

(LONG POST)

After my tutorial I knew that I had to find a way to incorporate all the work I had previously done with my drawings and animation so I went back and looked at the works I had done, considering them now alongside the rotoscope animation I had. I wanted to find a way to bring these animations together and also consider how this could work with sound. I decided to go back to my dads original archive of scanned documents and images that he had given me at the very beginning of the project. I looked through these all again and came across this image...

I then started to think about how a ‘cassette’ could offer a way of structuring and bringing together my drawings. As we discussed in my tutorial I wanted to make this edit more... raw... less ‘clean cut’. This idea of a visual and sonic collage really stood out to me and I felt like the idea of looking through my dad’s cassettes could really work to bring this all together. 

From here I then considered that a timelapse/colour animation of just my dad and another of just Dave would work as a way of ‘introducing’ them and their roles. i went back to procreate and re made another two time lapse drawings which I then developed further into two colour animations.

original photo

The first drawing I completed of my dad. To create the smooth time-lapse drawings I first have to do one full drawing which I can then open as a new image, lower the opacity all the way down and then redraw over the top - this is how I am able to create the smooth visual of the drawing coming together. This took around 3 hours to complete. I then went on to recreate the colour animation in the same style as my previous. I decided with both of these images to exclude some detail from the original image as I wanted these to be simpler and the focus to really be on the people. I also wanted the final image of them together with ALL the detail, to stand out from these. 

This was my first version - I actually realised after putting it into the sequence that my original animation was much lighter and more textured - and typically - less neat ! Also the hair and skin was animated too which I hadn’t done here so I went back and re animated the colour.

This was my second attempt - much better !

original photo

Here is the line drawing I completed for the picture of Dave. This image had a lot more detail originally - all the brick work from the viaduct, and also my dad was stood in the background so I decided to not include him in the drawing and to simplify the detail. Again this took around 3 hours to complete and then also create the time lapse video. From here I created the colour animation.

Again - this was my first attempt - same situation as the first one of my dad. I later went back and re did it. 

Again - much better!

As this picture was black and white i decided to use my imagination for the colour. i spoke to my dad and found out the shoes Dave was wearing were actually bowling shoes - so for these I did the colours accurately. All in all I spent the best part of a day developing these animations - it was easier in some ways this time as I already knew the style and processes that I needed to do so it was very much just a case of executing them. Though it did take a lot of time I think these really helped to bring my film together.

From here I started putting together my animations in premiere , initially experimenting with different music and speeds of the time-lapse. I went back and did A LOT of listening through again of the hundreds of songs and IDEA tracks from my dads archive. I was doing this while drawing my two animations (above) as this definitely helped when it came to putting them into premiere and thinking about the sound overall. I listened to an earlier version of ‘seventh floor’ , one of my dads more finalised songs that i am quite familiar with. And it stood out to me for the clarity of the vocals and simplicity of the production (quite contrasted to the final version that I know). I decided to try this alongside the time lapse of my dad and decided to time it only as long as the initial instrumental - prior to the vocals beginning. This is when it begun to come together. I was considering how the time-lapse of dad could transition into the one of Dave and I thought back to the cassette tapes and decided to use the sounds almost as sonic punctuation to the images. I used the sound of the cassette being re-wound alongside the time-lapse image being reversed at a faster speed - this then brought the image back to the white screen and allowed me to bring in the next image of Dave. I synced this with the start of the vocals and created the same sequence style again with the next section of the song. I felt that this logically lead into the final DETAILED drawing of the two of them in the studio which could come in alongside the final version of Seventh Floor in all its loud and full glory. 

In a way my images and drawings were reflecting the process of the song making, and the use of the cassette sounds really helped synchronise and gel these elements together. I then decided to play around with animated titles. I really loved the written titles in the film I had previously looked at ‘My Dead Dad’s Porno Tapes - so I wanted to re-create something similar in my own style. I think these really added another element and visual texture to the film, and worked really well. I then went in and incorporated the full colour animations too as the ‘climax’ of each time-lapse drawing.  

As the final drawing is much more detailed and overall a much fuller image - I decided to make this time-lapse slightly longer - also being with the final version of seventh floor I wanted for this song to remain for a longer time too. I then played around with the -re-winding / fast-forwarding again as a way of bringing in my full colour animation - also it acts as a way to slightly subvert the expectation -  by this time the re-winding element has become established so it is to be expected it will repeat this again, instead the re-wind doesn't quite finish before it fast forwards back in. 

At this stage I still felt that it wasn't quite ‘together’ as I wanted it, I felt the cassette sounds worked really well as structural /punctuation to the images, but  as it stood I currently just had sections of white screen splitting up each section of the animation (bar the titles for dad and dave). I initially considered another rotoscope animation of a cassette being loaded into a player.. I spent some time scouring the internet for a suitable video clip.. eventually settling on one which I begun to animate in procreate. However as I was doing this I felt it would just be far too time consuming at this stage and actually the clip just didn't feel right in the overall film. I then re considered again that I was being too literal in this sense and actually just a visual of the cassette with the titles for each song on would work a lot better and help to tie together the sound of the cassette. I removed the titles as I had made them for the songs and created new animations for these sections. 

I also feel that these animations really help to tie in my original rotoscope piano animation, but they still retain this ‘collage’ feel to the overall film. 

FURTHER DEVELOPMENT OF THE DRUM MACHINE ROTOSCOPE ANIMATION:

After putting together the rest of the film around my original rotoscope I decided to re-visit the colour image I did of the drum machine and actually decided to place it over the line drawing instead within the animation. I felt that with the colour in the other three animations, adding this would help tie them all together. I had also really wanted to include this colour image as it was another one I had done that had taken some time and I was really happy with the outcome (even though you can't really see it for very long in the animation). 

I also decided to play around with the words slightly. My original intention had been for the screen to be ‘split’ as it were, between dad and Dave - the bottom half is the music (dad), and the top half are the words and vocals (Dave). After watching the animation back with a friend she questioned who it was ‘laughing’ so this is what lead me to moving the ‘*laughter*’ to the lower half and playing a bit more with that placement - which I think actually works a lot better.

(END OF POST)

[the-tru-story]

My Paternal Grandpa’s Genealogy Book (族譜)

How I attempted to find my family’s naming convention (字輩詩) and instead traced my lineage back to Huangdi (2711-2598 BCE).

I can explain...but where do I start?

My paternal grandpa, DaDa (爹爹), adopted a son to take care of his aging father in China, as DaDa’s mother migrated down to Vietnam with him. How they got all the way down to Cần Thơ from Taipu (大埔), I may never know. I’m not sure when the adoption happened, but this uncle of mine is significantly older than my dad, and now has great grand children. My great-grandfather also had a second wife, as many men did at the time, who also cared for him. My dad calls her 細奶 (Sei Nei).

Photos of my dad’s Sei Nei, Nei Nei (grandma), and DaDa (grandpa) in my grandpa’s ancestral home, which was also his childhood home. My immediate family also had my great grandparents’ photos framed up in our house for most of my life.

I visited this adopted uncle of mine some years ago in China. During this trip, my relatives said that we can discover our roots here, and emphasized all the attractions and accommodations for visiting members of the Taipu/Hakka diaspora from around the world. I made sure to ask my parents to ask them about our genealogy book or 族譜 (chuk pu). Many East Asian and Vietnamese clans have this genealogy book but I had never seen one for myself prior to this trip to China. When my mom asked 大舅 (Tai Kiu) and 姐公 (Jia Gong) about it, they said it was all on a computer and brushed it off as something old and uninteresting. Good job, Four Olds Campaign.

Just before making the trip to Taipu, I visited my great uncle (舅公 Kiu Gong) who is a retired professor and came from a prestigious family. Despite his Alzheimer’s and me trying to hide my tears while seeing him so fragile, he lit up when we asked about his genealogy book and promptly shuffled to his bedroom to grab it, cautiously carrying the heavy book into the living room. This book was no simple feat. My great uncle served on the book’s editing board, and it was as huge as an encyclopedia, red and hardcover. From what I remember, the pages were entirely in color, and I was pleasantly surprised to find detailed descriptions of the latter generations of women.

My dad’s paternal side on the other hand had a more modest looking book, printed in the late 90s. No pictures, no color, and unsurprisingly, no women. Still, I took a photo of every single page. My uncle said he would arrange to make a copy for us and we insisted that the pictures would be enough. At this point, even his quiet grandson pleaded for him to let us be. Traditional Chinese folks don’t take no for an answer. They eventually copied some pertinent pages of the book, and mailed it over to us. When my mom and dad went back to visit them recently, they provided a new full color edition of the book, which my uncle was an advisor for.

The book has a number of significant errors and omissions related to my family, which is not abnormal for a genealogy book, I presume. My distant uncle (related to my paternal grandma, so he also came from a prominent family) had collaborated with his siblings to put together a book honoring his parents, and he gave me a page of corrections to handwrite in the book.

Back to looking for my family’s naming convention. When my family and I visited Taipu, my mom asked what would be the next generation’s 輩數 (boi shu), or generation name. My brother’s is 明, my dad and uncle’s is 克, and my grandpa’s is 德. They said the generational names had been written in the family’s ancestral hall, located in my grandpa’s home village. Unfortunately, some years ago, they did not put out a fire after praying and making offerings to ancestors, so the hall burned significantly and the boi shu was gone.

So being who I am, I obviously could not accept this as an answer and wondered if another person within our clan had memorized my family’s generation name poem (世輩詩). How’s it possible that no one had memorized the poem? Each character in the poem is a new generation name, and of course, the poem even rhymes so that it’s easy to remember. 

I examined the extended family tree in our genealogy book, just to see if I could somehow “discover” a rhyming pattern based on each generation’s boi shu. Oddly, while members of my grandpa and great grandpa’s generations used their same respective generation names for the most part, my dad and brother’s generations did not. They varied immensely, but usually siblings at least carried the same generation name. I’ve also scoured the internet for poems that contained 德克明 in that order but came up with nothing. So that’s the most recent status of this little project.

The Zhang clan’s earliest ancestors, between the first and 68th generation. Based on the genealogy book, I’m part of the Zhang clan’s 162nd generation. Zhang Hui, grandson to Huangdi, was the legendary inventor of the bow and arrow, and the progenitor of the Zhang lineage.

Oh, and because I saw that Ming Tsai could date his family lineage back to Huangdi (the Yellow Emperor, and the legendary ancestor of all Chinese people), I decided to check our genealogy book again to see if I could trace my ancestry as well. Turns out that I can, all the way back to Huangdi. Since it’s all already in print, I won’t explain too much of it, but here are a few interesting things from the book, combined with some research online:

Hua Sun is considered the earliest ancestor, or the 始祖, of all Hakka people surnamed Zhang. Originally from Ninghua, Fujian, Zhang Hua Sun migrated to Shanghang, Fujian and had 18 sons and 108 grandsons. I have no idea what this means but he was regarded as Yinjiangzhen’s (situated in today’s Guangdong) earliest ancestor.

Zhang Hua Sun’s son Zhang Xiang Yun is buried in Xianshi Village, Yongding, Fujian.

I may not have found my immediate family’s naming convention, but Hua Sun’s generation name poem is printed in the book. Yun comes after Hua. All of Hua Sun’s sons have Yun as the second character of their names. After that, the generation name is used as the first character again, and then the next name is used as the second character. Not sure if this is related to 昭穆, a concept I’m still trying to figure out.

Another forefather who is considered an “earliest ancestor” is Hua Sun’s great great great grandson, Zuo Cheng, who is buried in Guye, Taipu. More than 15 generations of Zhang Zuo Cheng’s descendents stayed in Taipu, so this may be why he is regarded as a 始祖. His descendants did not follow Hua Sun’s naming convention.

My ancestors from the Southern Song Dynasty apparently lived to be over 90 years old.

Anyway, that was a lot. I have more name-related stories for another post.

[stone-man-warrior]

October 28, 2020: 2:53 pm:

Rantings from my suspended Twitter account today:

Green credentials.

Lots of text!

Long 'one liners', no period.

The Brits at Ruk are famous for their economy of language use. These tweets are out of normal contextual form for them, highly suspicious activity from Reuters UK, as per usual.

I think someone should send Reuters UK a gaint size box of periods.

I'll bet they are superstitious about the periods.

Send Reuters a truckload of periods, then, wait to see what they do with them.

Trump Quote of the day:

"If it isn't big, you don't have to vote for me" Big Text in Bullhead Arizona.

Fun Mystery fact, the kind that no one talks about, and, there are no existing photos to show online:

Bullhead Arizona, on the Colorado River, and, just about one or two miles down river from the Laughlin casino's, there are enormous statues.

Ten of them as I recall, five on each side of the river, in pairs that are opposite each other on the banks of the Colorado. The statue pairs are arranged about one quarter mile apart from one another.

At least one set of them has a tunnel beneath the river, enter the statue, to enter the tunnel, to get from Nevada to Arizona, and vice-verse.

Rumor has it, that the Mormons in Hollywood put the statues there.

The statues can be described best as "Flying Monkeys" from Wizard of Oz movie fame.

You could also say they are Gargoyles.

Flying Monkey's was the first thing I thought of as I floated my boat between them, thinking "WT actual F is that?".

Very creepy to see them. They are about fifty feet tall, are not small, are big. Online, there is a few photos of a small rendition of the same thing out on the river walk at one of the casinos, but, that one is only ten or twelve feet tall, and there is only one there at the casino. These other Flying Monkeys are big, and there are at least eight, I remember ten. It was 1991-1994 ish.

No one ever talks about them. If you scour the internet, you can find two or three written eye witness accounts of the existence of the giant Flying Monkeys of the Colorado, but you won't find any photos.

I drove to one of them, there were people inside of it. It turned out to be a bad idea to go look at the Flying Monkeys there, I don't remember why it was a bad idea. I do remember that I only stayed long enough to get of my car, I didn't go near the statue because of the people who came out of it when I got there.

Arizona Terror: There is a lot of it.

One thing I think should be of concern, is that in Arizona, it's a crime to be crazy. All they have to do is have some asshole say that you have a mental disorder, if that happens, the police can lock you up.

The truth about mental conditions and the way they relate to terror, is that it's a "brain disorder", and that means it's a "knowledge disorder", and that means that the person "knows too much", is locked up so they won't tell anyone what they know.

In Oregon, the same kind of thing is dealt with by making sure the person in question is harassed and menaced daily, and, is kept confined in their homes, until they can be lured into commuting a crime by retaliation for such daily menacing. BTW, Menacing is a serious crime. It's a lot more than a boy who bothers Mr. Wilson. Also, such persons are issued special "Smart Meters" on their power meters. I have three of them at my house. One on each of my three power drops from the transformer.

The Smart Meters have cameras on them, they look just like the ones on an iPhone.

The Smart Meters don't need a meter reader to come see usage, they broadcast the actual usage, as the usage occurs, live, all day, and all night, constant monitoring of power consumption.

It's a big deal.

Privacy encroachment into your home.

The meters and the software that runs them, and reads them, can learn over time about individual electronic items that are in use by virtue of the amperage drawn at the meter. The terrorist know when the laundry is running, that means they know you will be in the laundry room, live at the time. They know that the laundry is making some noise, useful to cover other noises as they come into the house to attack. They know if you are likely to be in the shower, naked, unarmed and vulnerable by a combination of lights drawing amps, and the water heater turning on with those lights.

It's a big deal, bad idea to have a Smart Meter that broadcasts live, all day.

Silver Creek Rd in Bullhead: Some of the most unbelievable things have been seen there, near the HWY95 intersection, and up the hill from there.

Once, there was an ambulance in front of me as I was driving down the hill on Silver Creek. The ambulance stopped about one quarter mile from the hwy 95, up the hill. Someone got out of that back of the ambulance, and so did the driver. The one in the back sat in a wheel chair, but did not seem as though he was confined to it.

A wheel chair, on Silver Creek... it's a very steep hill, descends into the busy Hwy 95 intersection.

The man in the wheel chair took off down the hill.... about fifty mph is my guess. He went through the intersection, which is a blind intersection for most of the traffic.

On the other side of hwy 95 was a ramp, and beyond that was an inflatable stunt movie bag, a giant air pillow.

The man hit the ramp, and flew into the air, and into that inflatable bag. Traffic continued to flow.

I went on my way. I got to a restaurant called Black Bear Restaurant. There was a four wheel drive limousine next to me in traffic there by the restaurant. The limousine exploded.Into bits.

Traffic continued to flow. As if it happens every day. There is a small hospital at the top of Silver Creek Road. In around 1991, I needed to take my son to an Emergency doctor, we went there, and were turned away.

"Are you French?"

No

"You don't speak French?"

No, my boy needs a doctor not a language class.

"We can't treat the boy, he is not French" That happened there. Later, another time at the same hospital, there was a live rock band playing in the place where the cafeteria used to be. It had been converted to a sound recording studio complete with live stage and isolation booths, records in frames on the walls, and down the hall were people in hospital beds, doctors doing radiology readings on backlit wall mounted light board, nurses going room to room, and reception staff all doing reception front office work, while that band was playing in the cafeteria/recording studio.

That happened. I think it was 2008 ish.

Knowing what I know now, and seeing what I saw then, and other things, it's clear to me that the place had been converted into a SAG practice area for hospital takeovers. What I was seeing was a practice for takeover. The band, might have been there to mimic pressure, so that that the actors in the beds, the nurses, the fake doctors and everyone involved could show that they can do what they need to do while under pressure. The band in the hospital playing loud, echoed and was unpleasant sound quality in there. The people all behaved as if there was no band playing.

Titanic Terror. The boat goes down, the band keeps playing on deck.

The same kind of thing happened in Grants Pass when the whole town was transformed into a practice for the hospital takeover in Las Vegas, when Concert 91 happened. No one has exposed the truth yet, that the hospitals in Vegas were overtaken by a combination of Canadian terror army, and Screen Actor Guild entertainers. The hospitals were ambushed by five hundred fake gunshot victims.

In Grants Pass in the week before that, the whole town, everything was a practice stage. The new construction of the Hampton Bay Suites at I-5 exit 58 was the place where the enormous sound system was tested, and practiced to mimic the sound of gunfire. That fake gunfire could be heard along the freeway all the way to Walmart and AM/PM.

The people at Am/Pm  were playing role of hotel check-in clerks as people brought store items to the counter. I was asked if I wanted to upgrade my room to a suite, when I just wanted some tobacco and a iced coffee. At the Fred Meyer inside the store, it was converted to a casino gaming floor practice area. The Fred Meyer employees dresses in Vegas Cocktail waitress outfits, with trays, saying their lines. Instead of cocktails on the trays, they used flan, Mexican pudding, in cups.

There is a meat cooler where chicken and pork is kept, it's about the size and shape of a craps table. There were people there in the Fred Meyer meat department throwing dice into the cooler, and there were gaming dealers dressed for the part, every one saying their lines.

None of the people knew anything about the game of craps. They were faking it, and doing a bad job of faking it.

The jewelry department was fitted with a "Wheel of Fortune" game, people around it saying their lines.

lots more, no one is interested in truth to hear any of it.

When Donald Trump says: "There must be law and order" he is really saying "there must be lawn order" and that translates to "there must be coup de gras order" He will follow that up, with the marching orders. 

3:02 pm.

[shot-through-the-hart]

Are Pine Needles a Flower? Chapter Two

Chapter Summary: Unofficially official wedding planners, an arguably nonexistent package deal, and rules that were made to be broken.

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four

Roxy Morton had been furiously scouring the internet for about two hours straight, now.

The recent events that had occurred were stellar, spectacular, amazing, fabulous, and about fifty other words that meant the exact same thing. Ah, that sounded almost sarcastic. It wasn’t meant sarcastically, truly, it was wonderful that James had finally proposed to Cecil… but the date they were planning it for was eight months from now, and Roxy had quickly taken up the role as an unofficially official wedding planner.

One of the websites she’d found had a convenient checklist for what she’d need to do to plan the wedding and when it should all happen. She did have to modify it slightly, since the website assumed that James and Cecil were a heterosexual couple who were significantly less extra and had a longer engagement length of sixteen months, but it still worked as a base plan.

Roxy sighed and pressed her eyes shut. She’d probably passed the point of no return a while back, and continuing would do nothing for her, but still she argued with the side of herself that wanted to take a break for a bit. Pausing would only waste time, she only had a few months! Opening up her Skype tab, she decided to go with something that could technically count as both.

Eggsy picked up on the second ring, as usual. “Hey Rox,” he said, as the video buffered.

Roxy took a sip of her glass of water. After a long pause and a deep breath, she said, “Eggsy, help me. James proposed to Cecil – fucking finally – and now I’m stuck as their wedding planner, and I have been researching for too long to be helpful at all.”

“And… You want me to help how? Can’t save ya from your own determination.” A half-joking smile played with Eggsy’s lip as he said it.

“You’ve done the photography for weddings before, right? I’ve been searching for photographers and I can’t find anyone local,” Roxy said.

“I have done, yeah. This your way of askin’ your best mate to do you a solid and be the photographer for a wedding you’re planning? ‘Cause it ain’t exactly a good idea, Rox, I ain’t a professional by any means here.”

“Please, Eggsy.” It came out closer to begging than Roxy meant it, with the desperation in her voice punctuating the end of the sentence as an afterthought.

“I mean, if you’re sure, I’ll do it, but I can’t recommend it in good conscience. You’ll end up with the least competent photographer.” Eggsy smirked, clearly finding his self-deprecation to be the height of humor.

“Thank you! I owe you one, that’s going to make the search so much easier! Now I need to think about a caterer, a florist, figure out the music-”

“Hey, calm down with the planning. You got time, Roxy. You’re gonna burn yourself out.” Eggsy advised, as Roxy took a deep breath to calm her mind currently racing with the tasks still needing undertaking in the to-do list. After an idle pause, Eggsy appeared to realize something, and continued with, “Wait, wait, you said you still need a florist?”

Roxy nodded, raising an eyebrow as a way of signaling Eggsy to continue with whatever train of thought he was following at the moment.

“Check out Blue Moon Blooms, the flower shop across the street from my studio. Run by this bloke called Merlin, he’s this bald angry Scottish guy who does some damn good flower arrangements. I do the photos for his social media, I’d know. I think that he and I are a bit of a package deal, like if you got me for the wedding, you gotta hire him too.”

“Are you actually a package deal, or are you just exaggerating?” She heavily suspected it was the latter, but she offered Eggsy the benefit of the doubt.

“We are!” Eggsy said, mock-offended by her having to ask. She chuckled a bit.

“You so are not,” Roxy said through a grin as Eggsy feigned an even more offended look. She cut through the banter and continued slightly more seriously with, “I will check the place out, though, in case you’re on to something.”

She picked up her glass of water, making a mental note… until she remembered something and put the glass down. “Hold on a minute, did you say his name was Merlin? You know a man named Merlin? It isn’t a moniker or anything?”

“I- I ain’t sure actually,” Eggsy said, more than a little confused at the situation. “I’m pretty sure it is, but I’m too intimidated to ask him 'bout it.”

Roxy would take that as an answer. “Alright then,” she said. After a second, one of the actual reasons she’d called Eggsy popped into her head, so she changed the topic.

“I wanted to say, by the way, your no-matchmaking rule is absolutely still in effect.” He opened his mouth, maybe in protest, or maybe to ask why she still thought he was such a meddler, but she cut him off before he could say anything. “No, Eggsy, I know you. I know you’re gonna find some excuse to match up one of James’s party with some friend of yours, but it never ends well!”

“Name one time it didn’t end well,” Eggsy said, scoffing.

“Charlie was so much of a prick that he was practically a porcupine, and Amelia was a fucking lesbian, Eggsy! You’re not good at meddling, the rule is not going away,” Roxy countered, deadpan expression on her face.

Eggsy’s face flushed at the mention of it, embarrassed. “In my defense, Rox, I didn’t know that! Besides, some of your rules are meant to be broken.”

“No matchmaking, Eggsy. I know this wedding is going to make you want to, but no.”

[diarrheaworldstarhiphop]

Twice a day since the beginning of the Trump administration, a special folder is prepared for the president. The first document is prepared around 9:30 a.m. and the follow-up, around 4:30 p.m. Former Chief of Staff Reince Priebus and former Press Secretary Sean Spicer both wanted the privilege of delivering the 20-to-25-page packet to President Trump personally, White House sources say.

These sensitive papers, described to VICE News by three current and former White House officials, don’t contain top-secret intelligence or updates on legislative initiatives. Instead, the folders are filled with screenshots of positive cable news chyrons (those lower-third headlines and crawls), admiring tweets, transcripts of fawning TV interviews, praise-filled news stories, and sometimes just pictures of Trump on TV looking powerful.

One White House official said the only feedback the White House communications shop, which prepares the folder, has ever gotten in all these months is: “It needs to be more fucking positive.” That’s why some in the White House ruefully refer to the packet as “the propaganda document.”

The process of assembling the folder begins at the Republican National Committee’s “war room,” which has expanded from 4 to 10 people since the GOP won the White House. A war room — both parties have one regardless of who’s in the White House — is often tasked with monitoring local and national news, cable television, social media, digital media, and print media to see how the party, its candidates or their opponents are being perceived.

Beginning at 6 a.m. every weekday — the early start is a longtime war room tradition — three staffers arrive at the RNC to begin monitoring the morning shows on CNN, MSNBC, and Fox News as they scour the internet and newspapers. Every 30 minutes or so, the staffers send the White House Communications Office an email with chyron screenshots, tweets, news stories, and interview transcripts.

White House staffers then cull the information, send out clips to other officials, and push favorable headlines to a list of journalists. But they also pick out the most positive bits to give to the president. On days when there aren’t enough positive chyrons, communications staffers will ask the RNC staffers for flattering photos of the president.

“Maybe it’s good for the country that the president is in a good mood in the morning,” one former RNC official said.

Contacted by VICE News, Spicer disputed the nature of the folder. “While I won’t comment on materials we share with the president, this is not accurate on several levels,” he said in an email. Asked what about the story was inaccurate, Spicer did not respond.

Of course, every White House monitors media coverage to see how they’re being covered, and the RNC may have decided more staff was needed after the party won the White House. As the political media environment has become faster-moving and more frenzied, the efforts to follow it have also become more robust. The Obama White House usually had at least one very caffeinated point person and two others dedicated to watching Twitter, online publications, print media, and cable news, and then compile relevant clips and send them around to White House aides.

But the production of a folder with just positive news — and the use of the RNC to help produce it — seemed abnormal to former White House officials. “If we had prepared such a digest for Obama, he would have roared with laughter,” said David Axelrod, the senior adviser to Barack Obama during his first two years in the White House. “His was a reality-based presidency.”

“The RNC is always going to work to defend the White House, the administration, and its members of Congress, and our war room’s efforts help capture and drive how our team can echo that defense,” said RNC spokeswoman Lindsay Jancek.

Another current White House official said that the idea for the twice-daily ego boost came from Priebus and Spicer, who competed to deliver the folder and be the bearer of the good news. “Priebus and Spicer weren’t in a good position, and they wanted to show they could provide positive coverage,” the official said. “It was self-preservation.”

In the two-plus weeks following the departure of both Spicer and Priebus, White House officials say, the document has been produced less frequently and more typically after public events, such as Trump’s recent speech at the National Boy Scouts Jamboree in West Virginia. It’s unclear what will change, if anything, once a new White House communications director is appointed to replace the briefly tenured Anthony Scaramucci.

It’s not the first recorded instance of Trump welcoming excessive flattery.  

He frequently cites or thanks cable television hosts like Sean Hannity, Lou Dobbs, and the hosts of “Fox & Friends” who cover his presidency more favorably.

And at a broadcasted Cabinet meeting in June, Trump listened contentedly as the vice president, his chief of staff, and nearly all of the 15 Cabinet secretaries heaped praise on him. Priebus took that opportunity to tell Trump: “On behalf of the entire senior staff around you, Mr. President, we thank you for the opportunity and the blessing that you’ve given us to serve your agenda and the American people.”