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bastillewolf · 4 years

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The Grand Tranquility Hotel (XV)

Pairing: Alex Turner/Reader

Summary: An eccentric hotel owner and an inquisitive writer find solace in each other when they both seemed to be at the edge of rock bottom.

Notes: Sorry this chapter took so long. I must have rewritten it about 5 times before I felt completely satisfied with it. Furthermore, thank you for all of your wonderful birthday wishes, it gave me a lot of joy reading them during times like these. I hope you’re all doing well and I hope to keep you entertained with more Alex Turner content in the (very) near future.

I’d advise you to listen to ‘The Linden Tree’ from the Grand Budapest Hotel soundtrack for the final ‘scene’. It somehow felt very fitting to me, as I’ve used most of this soundtrack while writing this story. The movie had lightly inspired me to make it.

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list.

@edgythought @iwannabemorethanme @he4rtbre4khotel @juga-42 @alexbandguy86 @imagine-that-505

Chapter XV - Tranquility Base Hotel & Casino (Pt. III)

“You’re both idiots,” she huffed under her breath, as she rinsed the bloodied washcloth in the previously stark white sink. She didn’t bother to wipe away the splatters, since she’d had to rinse it ten times before that because Matt’s nose wouldn’t stop bleeding.

They had taken their mess to the kitchens, away from prying eyes, when a picture had almost been taken by one of the paparazzi that had been sneakily investigating them. Word must have gotten around that the writer of The Grand Tranquility Hotel was visiting the new estate and seen with the owner himself.

As she cleaned the remaining grime off of Matt’s cheeks and chin, she wasn’t being as careful as she usually would be. She was pissed off, and all the men did was cast their eyes downwards and shoot her regretful looks from time to time. Even if they did still feel resentment towards each other, they were very careful not to show it in her presence.

“You know, it’s not just your reputation you’re damaging,” she added, walking over towards the hotel owner’s messy features, “I’m an accomplished writer now. If you can’t behave properly, I’ll have to write another book and lie myself out of this. I’d rather not write a fake autobiography.”

“You mean an addition to the already existing one?” Alex muttered.

She raised a brow, the washcloth momentarily wavering over the bruised cheek she’d been tending to. The injuries to his face were less severe, and she was very much considering making them worse.

“You better watch your mouth, mate,” Matt growled.

“Or what? Are you going to hit me again?” Alex challenged.

Jamie was quick to hold Matt back when he tried to get out of his chair, while Nick took a hesitant step towards Alex, in case he was about to try something. But the hotel owner remained seated on the kitchen countertop, rubbing his temples tiredly.

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” she sighed, “And I advise you to double check the personnel you’ve hired, as they clearly can’t keep their mouths shut.”

“It’s the paparazzi; they’re always here, even when we do keep an eye out for them. And my clerk is very trustworthy, he just needs some more training,” Alex told her defiantly.

“Just some training?! He was drawing squiggles in your guest book when we arrived, Al!”

“Matt, I do need you to shut up,” she snapped, “You’re letting your anger make you as spiteful as a ten-year-old. Go cool off.”

The man in question huffed, shaking Jamie’s hand off of his shoulder before making his way towards the door.

“Yes, go cool off, Matt, lest you try to beat someone up again.”

Her eyes met his in a desperate attempt to ask him to let it go, which wouldn’t have worked had it been the Matt from when they left the hotel together. The Matt now, however, was more calculated and reserved; though his tendency to use his fists as the main solution still lingers there. She had thought it gone by now, yet the circumstances had indefinitely proven her wrong.

The door slammed behind him with a finality, and she returned her annoyed gaze to Alex, clearly disappointed with the way he’s treating her best friend. Nick left shortly after, mumbling about what idiots they were being, to go search for Matt. Jamie didn’t stick around for too long either, evidently feeling awkward staying in the brooding tension that hung around them.

She silently continued to care for his split lip, peering up at his eyes ever so often, which seemed darker and more distant than usual.

“What did you mean by that?” she murmured.

“Mean by what?” he asked.

“You know what.”

He gave her a look, “You mean your fake tales about my perfect hotel?”

“I never wrote anything but the truth, Alex. I simply left out the lesser parts.”

He hummed, clearly not persuaded by her words. He was being stubborn, and he was very aware of it, yet she decided it would be better to continue the conversation rather than let unspoken words hang in the air for the remainder of her stay.

She fumbled with the stained cloth in her hands. “Did you read it?”

He met her eyes with a lifted brow, as if trying to decide whether or not to respond. “Of course, I read it,” he eventually admitted.

“Then you should know I didn’t fabricate anything. It wasn’t some publicity stunt I was trying to pull off, Alex. Naturally, I wanted to give your hotel the credit it deserved, but I wasn’t going to lie while doing so. That’s not who I wish to be.”

“Yet you left out all that I did to you. You could have ruined me. Why didn’t you?” He sounded almost desperate, now.

“I think you know why.”

She felt his hot breath waft over her lips. His face was suddenly so much closer to hers, making her inhale sharply. He smelled just as she remembered, like expensive cologne and cigarettes. He’d been smoking more.

“It’s not right, Alex.”

“Why not?” he whispered. His orbs had dilated significantly, and only wavered from hers to look at her licking her lips.

“Because you still despise me for what I’ve done.”

She ran her hand over his cheek, before stepping out of his embrace. She left the room without sparing him another glance, leaving him to his never-ending train of thoughts.

Nick hadn’t been able to get much out of Matt, and saying it disappointed him was the understatement of the century. He had chased him around the hotel for a bit until they reached the doors to the gardens, where Matt was now taking photographs with his aged camera. Nick knew he needed to give Matt more time, yet his patience was running low. He had played the waiting game for long enough.

So, when Miles had arrived at the front desk asking for Alex, he had given him a relentless glare that made the mayor’s eyebrows shoot up so far they were almost closing in on his hairline. Only he could make this look as comical, and Nick felt his steadfastness waver around his friend. “Alex is a bit busy at the moment, I’m sure he’ll seek you out once he has the time.”

It was a lazy lie, which Miles obviously saw through, because all he replied with was an “ah” while his curious eyes trailed towards the guest book and skimmed over a familiar set of names. “I see,” he continued, “Very busy indeed…”

Before the clerk could say any more, the mayor was already trailing off towards the elevator, appearing deep in thought.

“I’ve always found the mayor such an odd man,” said the young man next to him.

Nick sighed. “Shut up, Mark.”

She was surprised to hear a knock on her door. Not because she was deathly scared of knocks on doors, but because she wasn’t really sure who was still on speaking terms with her right now. If anything, she had expected to have been left alone for quite a while, with Matt needing time to brood and sulk and the others to decide whether to finally kick her out or not.

She hadn’t been sure what to expect when she opened the door, but it most certainly hadn’t been Miles Kane’s warm smile.

He really didn’t want to have this conversation. And he’d really rather be anywhere else. Yet, here he was, in the gardens of his own hotel – if he could even call it a garden compared to his other property; the city didn’t allow much room for greenery – seeking out the man who had beat him up not hours before.

“Come to take another blow at me, then?” Matt asked. He had his camera raised; his right eye squinted shut to take a good look inside the lens. He stood facing the small pond that was outside; one of the very few hidden gems of the hotel.

“Wouldn’t want to ruin your pretty face any more than I already did,” Alex tried.

Matt huffed in response. They were both testing the waters here. “As if. You barely touched me last time.”

“Oh, really? You want to swap jumpers and make another move? I recall your timing being off. Those drumming classes haven’t done much for you, have they?”

They both snickered, a sense of familiarity washing over them like they were back in old Sheffield, when they had nothing more to worry about than homework and bickering over how to snog a girl.

“Not much to see around here, eh?” Matt asked, lowering his camera to run his eyes over the rest of the reasonably-sized plot.

“We were more concerned about the interior of the hotel.” Alex had his brow raised.

“Real shame. Not much space to keep horses and such.”

The inquiry was there, and Alex quickly picked up on it. “Mardy is being properly looked after, Matt. She’s doing fine.”

The man grumbled a bit under his breath about how ‘fine’ wasn’t good enough which the hotel owner decidedly ignored.

“I’m not here to bestow any more grief upon you, Matt. I’m here because we have a shared interest that I wanted to talk to you about.”

“A shared interest?” Matt repeated blankly.

“I…” Alex exhaled sharply. “I hope you’re happy together. I really do. And that’s all I’ve ever wanted for both of you in the end; happiness. I’m glad you’ve found it together.”

Matt’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Alex, we’re not together.”

“... You’re not?”

“Is that what that whole ordeal was about?”

Alex had a difficult time processing this new information being thrown at him, and could barely hide the glee that was bubbling up in his chest. He was interrupted, however, by Nick running towards them. He couldn’t recall him ever running so fast for anything in his life.

“I think we have a problem,” Nick gasped, “Miles is here.”

“I’m happy to hear you didn’t lose your job,” she gave him a genuine smile as he poured her a fresh cup of tea and added in some milk.

“Me too, if I’m honest. Spending so much time on the hotel made me realize how much I actually liked doing it and how much I was missing it. I can only be glad people were still willing to vote for me. Guess my good looks pay off after all.” He winked at her, making her roll her eyes.

“I’m sure they voted for you because they were reminded of the goodness in you when you made that apology on the tele.”

“You watched that?” He asked.

“Of course, I did. Wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”

The twinkle in his eyes seemed to diminish as he cast them downwards. He fumbled with the cup, his fingers making circular motions over the ceramic. “I’m not really sure I’m all that deserving of their praise. Not to mention, yours.”

“Miles-“

“I’m really sorry for what I did. I never meant to cause any of this. I really wanted to do right by Alex, because he’d been hurt by so many people before and I didn’t want to see it happen again and yet… When I showed him that notebook I think I only really did more harm than good. I know those words were never meant to be read by anyone else and that Alex would have been doing so much better had I just…” He let go of a shuddering breath.

She moved her hand to rest on his forearm in comfort, unable to bring about any form of resentment for the man. She met his eyes. “I know. You were only ever trying to protect him. I can only thank you for that. What happened between me and Alex would have happened either way, whether or not you showed him what I wrote. Neither of us were in the right state of mind back then.”

He gave her a watery yet relieved look, and nodded in understanding. He wrapped his arms around her. “I just hope he’ll get it into that stubborn noggin of his soon that he’s never going to find anyone better than you.”

She laughed against his shoulder quietly, “Me too.”

When Miles finally left the room, it was nearing dinner time, so he was planning on heading straight down to the hall. He didn’t get much further than the lobby, though.

“Relax, Al,” he told the frantic hotel owner, “All we did was talk it out. Seems like you took the more violent approach.” Miles eyed his injuries carefully, as Alex avoided his gaze.

“Where is she?” Matt asked.

“In her room, last I checked. Why?”

“Alex has another stupid idea.”

She was about ready to head downstairs for dinner when Matt burst through the door. He gave her a quick look up and down, shaking his head in disapproval as he did so. “Oh no, you’re not wearing that. Put on something fancy.”

“Excuse me?” she asked incredulously, placing her hands on her hips.

“You heard me,” he said, “I’m taking you to dinner. Now come on, hurry up.”

She wasn’t able to protest as he’d already disappeared back out the door. “This day just won’t end, will it?” she muttered.

Now her mother should have seen her. Though perhaps all she would’ve done is complain about how she wasn’t married yet instead of taking a look at her state of dress. She was honestly quite proud of the work she’d put up, even going as far as to wear heels with it.

She took a gamble that she was supposed to meet Matt in the lobby when he didn’t appear to be waiting in the hallway outside, and a part of her expected him to already be sitting in the hall eating his fill of chicken wings. But he was nowhere to be found, not even at their usual table.

“Miss,” a voice stopped her as she was about to sit. It was Nick. “I’ve reserved a different table for you tonight. If you’ll follow me, please.”

“No.”

Nick gave her an annoyed look.

“Stop being difficult.”

“You like it when I’m difficult.”

The first thing that filled her senses were the bright rays of lights hanging around the garden, and only when she’d taken in the starry night’s sky was when she noticed a record playing softly in the distance. Nick led her to a clearing near a pond hid behind a few bulky bushes, where she found a table and two seats waiting for her.

“Please, don’t be too difficult on him,” Nick whispered, before taking off again.

His footsteps on the soft grass made her turn back around.

God, he was wearing that same suit from all those years ago. And he still looked damn good in it.

“Would you care to join me for dinner?”

She blinked at him.

“You actually want me to?”

“Yes,” he said, and she could tell he meant it.

He was busy pulling out her chair for her when someone rounded the corner.

“You’re still not ready?” Matt asked, his arms carrying what appeared to be a set of menus slumping against his chest in annoyance. “I’m never doing this again.”

“I recall you volunteering to be our waiter this time, Matthew. This was of your own volition.”

“Wait a minute,” she turned to glance back at the man in question, “You volunteered to be our waiter? What happened? I wasn’t absent for too long, last I checked.”

Matt rolled his eyes, before gesturing towards Alex. “You think I was just going to leave you alone with him? We compromised.”

“You suggested it,” Alex said.

“It doesn’t matter anymore. Are you ready to order now, or should I take my outstanding services elsewhere?”

“Why did you set all of this up?” she couldn’t help but ask. After Matt had run off to escape their incessant teasing about him maybe actually enjoying waitering, they had only managed to make some small talk. But of course, ‘how are you’s and ‘fine’s aren’t enough to form an entire conversation during dinner.

He gazed up at her, and he looked tired. No longer did she feel captivated by the boyish charm in his gaze; this time, she was completely entranced by the mature and graceful man that sat before her.

“I don’t despise you for what you did, love,” he murmured. “I did when it happened, but the moment you left, I knew I’d made the biggest mistake in the entire world.”

Of course, he’d made the biggest mistake. She felt her heart drop to her stomach.

He had realized that he should have rid of her long before that. That she was nothing but a bother in his perfect grandeur life.

“I never should have let you go.”

She was awaiting his rage, thinking this was the calm before the storm. That he would snap at her or insult her again. But, he didn’t.

For once in his life, Alexander Turner didn’t get defensive. He didn’t storm off, nor make a scene. He simply started talking, like it was the most regular thing for him to do. As if he had always done it, as unnatural as it may have seemed.

Her bottom lip started trembling, her exhaustion fuelling her already tensed emotions. “Then why did you never call? Why did you never pick up the phone? You said you always would if I called you.”

“I didn’t think you’d ever want to see me again after all the things I said to you, after how I lashed out on you.”

“But you could’ve at least tried,” she reasoned.

He nodded, running a tired hand through his hair before it landed on hers and squeezed it lightly. “I didn’t try because I knew you’d be better off without any of this.”

He gestured vaguely towards the looming hotel behind them. “This hotel… It was out of the money from the back of my pocket. The risk was far higher than I thought it would be, and as we were signing the official papers, all I could hear were your warnings being whispered in my ear over and over again.

The opening didn’t go without loss. We barely got any visitors in the first few months, and I was certain that that was going to be it. That it was all over. All I’d worked for, down the drain, because I’d taken one last pathetic gamble to get to the place I’d always wanted to be.

And then you came, a bright light shining over all that was bad, publishing a book about the grandeur Tranquility Hotel, with nothing but praise and comforting words.”

He narrowed his eyes at her for a fraction. “Of course, I read your book. And I only felt the guilt and shame that had been haunting me during all that time you were gone.

You deserve so much more than what I can give you, writer. You have talent, a big heart and the stubbornness of a swine and I love that. You’ve proven more than enough times that you can take care of yourself. It made me realize how much I was holding you back from your full potential after you left.”

“Alex-“

“I was not in the right set of mind, and I can’t say I am now. I’m not very patient, I have a bad temper and I can be cruel when I want to be. You saw the way I reacted when I came to the conclusion you and Matt were a thing. I haven’t changed. Not one bit. Me wanting you to be my girl again is the most selfish thing I could ask for, which is why I won’t.”

Her vision was blurry, and a lump had formed in her throat that felt so heavy it could drop back down to crush her heart in a beat. “You’re not selfish, Alex. I wrote that book for you. It was my last attempt to find some solace after all that had happened. I’m only glad to hear it worked out so well for you and the business, I would’ve hated to see your legacy go to waste.”

But if that’s how you feel, I’m asking you- I’m begging you, be selfish. Be selfish for and with me, because I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

A tear solemnly ran down the length of her cheek, which was swept away by Alex’ gentle caress. He captured her lips with his, and took her chin in between her fingers. It was soft and sweet; though felt as dramatic as the finale of an Italian opera, for his decision was made.

He loved her, and she loved him, and all was right in the world.

She ran her thumb over his straining knuckles. “And please don’t worry about any of the boys, Al. They love you and care for you, even Matt. Even when you don’t make the best decisions, they’re there for you, because that’s what family does.”

“Family that needs to sock you in the jaw from time to time,” Matt himself added, as he set their plates of food in front of them.

Alex clasped his shoulder, a brotherly look exchanged between them once more.

And so, the rest of the night was spent exchanging long awaited kisses and glances, until the plates were licked clean, wine glasses empty, and clothes strewn across the grassy yard behind conveniently placed bushes under the night’s sky.

The end.

#Alex Turner x Reader #Arctic Monkeys #Matt Helders #Jamie Cook #TLSP #Miles Kane #Nick O'Malley #The Last Shadow Puppets #AM #TBHC #Tranquility Base Hotel & Casino #Wpsiatwin #Humbug #Suck It And See #Fanfic #Romance #Alex Turner

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nyrator · 4 years

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another long vent post about depression/anxiety

extremely depressed tonight

first made the mistake of driving myself to the grocery store at 6pm, first I had to try scraping the ice off the windshield with nothing but a broom and bare hands, then driving itself was nightmareish, the car feels like a death trap to me, very loose and sloppy compared to my last car, so loud and uncomfortable with no audible music to calm my nerves. My eyes have worsened to the point where I can’t see anything at night- glare takes up my whole vision, even with anti-glare shades. I was driving well below the speed limit the entire time and still almost hit three pedestrians who were all recklessly out on the roads in all black for whatever reason. My nerves are completely shot from it, my chest feels like I’m in a vice and can’t breathe, my eyes are wide open and hunched over the steering wheel, and my body feels both like I’m about to wet myself at any moment and that I’m too stiff/tense/frozen to function as a human at all, it’s that fight-or-flight response at its extreme. Meanwhile, my skin must be weak- my knuckles bleed when driving, and my wrists bled just from carrying in bags of groceries.

then getting home and just dealing with personal drama of someone I know who is so depressed and self destructive and too smart to reason with, who refuses/is unable to seek professional help, who just doesn’t understand or just can’t help venting to me nonstop, no matter how much I beg them not to over and over- their life is so terrible that suicide seems like the only option to them, and I don’t want them to do so, but I can’t keep suffering like this either and I feel like the only thing preventing them from doing so, as poor a job as I do as a human being anyway. But I can’t help them if they can’t help themselves, even if they were just ate a bit better, or just had a journal or someone anonymous they could talk to, but it seems inescapable and impossible to change anything and all we do is argue over it until I snap at them to leave me alone. That person is probably reading this right now and probably hating it, but I doubt anyone on this site even knows who they are.

Tuesday morning, I couldn’t sleep at all from anxiety- it was so severe and inescapable, I laid in bed for four hours feeling like I was dying until I was finally able to sleep for two hours. I can’t seem to stay asleep longer than two hours anymore. Was supposed to hang out with friends that day, but between lack of sleep, depression, and my absolute terror at driving in a snowstorm, I ended up just staying home.

Anxiety has gotten so bad again. I know a lot of how the mechanics work behind it, I know a lot of pains are from tension and lack of breathing. But my old coping mechanisms don’t work anymore. I can focus on breathing for several minutes straight and then fall right back into suffocating. Music, counting things, meditating, none of it helps anymore.

One way to describe the feeling of anxiety- it’s kind of like when you fall asleep on your arm, and you feel all the blood rushing back into it and that tingling sensation. Imagine that, maybe a bit less, but throughout your entire body (especially chest), your body is stiff and not numb, and your entire body is vibrating or shivering/shaking or something.

I still spend 16+ hours laying in bed every single day. When I got home from shopping, the walking around (and the stress of driving) was enough to send me straight to bed, I was so tired and weak. It’s probably why I don’t sleep properly, I’m half awake in bed all the time, what need is there for sleep

I have mail I haven’t opened, taxes I still have to do, messes to clean, and don’t care for any of it. Can’t even talk about some things I’ve been doing to myself out of spite or general depression, the way I’ve been abusing. I promise to try not to do anything too crazy or directly harmful, but even then I worry about slipping up- I tried one thing I shouldn’t talk about, which wasn’t too serious, but still seriously concerning how easy it was to try doing

still haven’t contacted a therapist, my fear of calling someone is so strong I can’t overcome it, especially not after just waking up. Talked to some friends, some agree that I should, at least one thinks it’s a waste of time and money- up to $125 per session to just get a glorified phone call thanks to covid restrictions. I just don’t see the point if I’m still stuck in my apartment at my computer, especially if I have an internet addiction already.

The lack of doing anything is driving me insane, I think. I’ve played four single player games in 2020- ACNH, KH MoM, Panel de Pon, and Picross. In terms of things watched on my own, probably just Japan Sinks and whatever else was on Netflix the few months I had it. Don’t feel motivated to play or watch anything anymore, nothing seems interesting, and mostly just do things with friends if at all

Even ACNH, the game I play the most, I barely do anything in it- mostly just get new items from stores, that’s it. My island decorating has come to a hard halt, mostly because I barely have any furniture I’d like to embellish it with, and mainly because I have no ideas to layout most of it

I want to create, but don’t have the energy to make anything at all. Rotten Nyan is still my current goal, but anxiety has made it next to impossible to work on. I’ve tried several times the past few weeks, all met with failure- the anxiety’s too much, half the time I don’t even know what’s causing it, but my body just gets too tense and cramped without even doing anything, and I just can’t breathe at all while working on it.

Thought about making an omake comic for it, then realized what a terrible idea it was, and how hard it is to draw comics in general. Or anything in general. Wrote down the entire comic while laying in bed one day, went to draw it, was unable to, tried making it a yonkoma, gave up, and felt sick thinking of all the gross things in it that I just made a vent description of Middle Lave and just posted that to the RN tumblr instead.

I can’t think of any ideas, I feel like my art has regressed- I’ve taken more shortcuts for the sake of my hands tensing so fast from anxiety, and I’ve gotten decent at drawing middle Lave I feel, but anything besides a character standing is impossible for me- any environments or character interactions that I’d love to do just feel impossible, let alone my inability to write good ones. Anything I try to think of writing-wise always ends up the same gross content that burned into my memories that I just can’t feel comfortable talking about much at all, nor do I think it’s content people want to see at all.

There’s a lot of detailed kind of art I’d like to do. I kind of want to loosen my restrictions on myself and just draw whatever suffering I feel like, maybe once I use the RN twitter more I might get a little more courage to do so. I see many artists draw detailed scenes in single images, and no matter how hard I try, I just can’t capture that feeling.

Part of me feels torn about it being an autobiography for people to relate to, and being a suffering experience for people to find some weird enjoyment out of. I feel like I’ve lost sight of what it was originally meant to be and now just enjoy “bullying” Middle Lave half the time I guess, but unfortunately for me, bullying makes me feel like vomiting and is hard to draw consistently- maybe I’m too nice. I don’t know, I’m just rambling at this point. The comic is still laid out and just meant to explore the life of Lave, but it’s just so hard to work on.

In terms of other things, I have no idea what to do

Vtuber/streaming? Hate my voice, can’t focus on learning what I need for it in terms of rigging and texturing models. I only know the basics of making 3D things and nothing else.

Console art? I already designed all the ones I’m mainly interested in, but like I mentioned before, can’t think of any character interactions at all that I feel like drawing.

Making a game? I know 2k3 well enough to make anything in it event-wise, though never got over my map failings, and I can’t commit to anything long-term. Godot or another program, or programming in general? Good luck.

I just want to make something, work on a project without losing steam or letting anxiety prevent me from learning. Can’t focus on anything long enough to learn it- Japanese, making a game, programming, a new hobby, anything. I just don’t have the drive to do anything and will give up anything I even try to start, so what’s the point in even trying anything. I have books I haven’t read that I’ve been meaning to read for years, and still don’t have an ounce of energy to want to even organize them on their shelf, let alone open it

At the very least, I got my first big commission (second one ever), designing an OC for someone, and it’s going well, though tonight I’ve lost steam to finish it, and I hope I can get it back tomorrow to try to finalize it.

I’ve mentioned it before, but I really wish I just had someone guide me with art- I miss doing those 30 day challenge kind of things, or “send a number/emoji” kind of asks for OCs, but tumblr’s so inactive that I don’t see them on my dash anymore, and don’t know how to even look for them, especially not on sites like twitter these days. Though, the problem is, no one knows exactly what I like, and I feel awful letting people down if they ask for something I don’t want to draw

I can’t focus on exercise long term, and I’m so out of practice that exhaustion is too strong to beat. I’ve been trying to walk up and down on a step stool for exercise to get me back into basic movement, but even that’s too tiring. Want to do it while watching something, then I realize, I don’t watch anything at all, not even youtube, just an occasional artist stream that I mainly chat with rather than watch

I feel like I’m going to collapse if I turn or move too suddenly, and my eyes are absolutely terrible- glasses are okay, but without them I’m completely blind now- not just blind, but it’s like my eyes see at two different angles sometimes, like one is slanted or something, very disorientating.

It’s 7:30AM, and no desire to sleep at all. Terrified of laying in bed and letting anxiety take over me again. Part of me wants to become completely nocturnal and just avoid everyone during the day and just respond to messages in the AM hours, just wake up at midnight each day and avoid dealing with people. Go to sleep when everyone starts to get active and just isolate myself entirely from society.

I feel like I exist with no purpose whatsoever, and it’s driving me insane- not that life is meant to have a purpose, but I could at least be doing something more than laying in bed all day every day for a year

#text stuffs #nyrants

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halothenthehorns · 4 years

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THE ROGUE BLUDGER

Clh left me a comment about how they felt about how I portrayed House Elf's, and Sirius' attitude on the matter during the second book. First things first, I've never read JK's opinion on the matter, so if someone would point me to a sight where I could read that I will enjoy it as much as any other HP related thing. Mostly though, I don't see how Sirius' reaction is too far from how Ron acts. I don't mean for Sirius to come across hating the whole species, and his reasons for hating Dobby were pretty justified. You guys have yet to see him around any other elf. Plus the bit where he said his parents hurt Kreacher I don't find too out there, it's not unreasonable to think Sirius has seen them do that to Kreacher for one reason or another. I'll go more into details on this during the fourth book, just felt like addressing that now.

HPHPHP

Remus was happy to read the next chapter, wanting dearly to see if Hermione could pull off such an advanced potion, and ignoring Sirius and James protest as they complained they still didn't get to have their 'Smarts Debate.' Honestly, Hermione would win that easily anyways.

The narration begins by talking about Lockhart's classes, explaining that he hadn't done anything with live animals since the disastrous pixie incident.

"Thank Merlin," Remus huffed, "or something far worse could happen."

Apparently all he had been doing was reading from his books,

"So basically torture sessions, of unrealistic proportions," James summarized.

and acting out the most action packed parts for the class. He always called on Harry to work as his second for these,

"Why?" All five of them groaned.

and Harry had no choice but to do as told. So far he'd played several embarrassing parts,

"Dumb, dumber, and dumbest," Sirius huffed, the more he heard about this guy the more annoying it got!

and today he was being instructed on how to act as a werewolf.

"Did you at least do the thing properly," James asked, while grinning over at Remus who refused to look up, "you know, spout random facts, be a horrible liar-"

"Have a really bad habit for turning red in the face," Sirius added on.

"Knock it off," Remus snapped, still without looking up. Harry and Lily could see why, since the little of his face they could see had long since turned bright red at his friends teasing. Remus knew he would never understand why his friends joked about something like this, it was a serious problem that shouldn't be taken lightly, but he had never stopped them with any real force either. Their joking simply meant they liked him enough to mess with him, something he had never thought possible in his younger years.

Still chuckling at their antics, Harry corrected them, "No, I had 'turned' into an actual werewolf at the time, fur and fangs and stuff."

Remus gave Harry a puzzled look and then read on a bit curiously.

Harry would have refused to do it, if he hadn't had a reason for keeping on Lockhart's good side.

"Did you try refusing to do it the other three times?" Lily asked.

"Yes," Harry muttered, it hadn't worked any of those times though because then Lockhart had launched into a detailed account, reading word for word. Harry had decided to do it simply to make the man shut up. At least playing those dumb roles had made the process go by quicker.

The teacher was currently instructing Harry to give a good long howl, while Lockhart went on about how despite whether the students believe it or not, he'd slammed the werewolf to the floor,

"Actually, I don't believe that," James said, quirking a brow. Had this man ever even seen a fully grown werewolf? They weren't the kind of thing you could 'slam' into the ground without getting your head bit off.

and had used only one hand to hold him down,

"Definitely don't believe that," Sirius cackled.

while pulling out his wand with the other and performing the Homorphus Charm.

"What good would that do?" James asked, "That's a charm used to restore Transfigured objects back to their original form. It's most common use is on Animagus' when they get stuck for some

reason. It wouldn't work on a werewolf though."

"Why do you know that?" Lily asked, noting his 'most common use' mostly.

"We had to learn it," Sirius shrugged, "for all the times we screwed up our Animagus practice. Came in handy a few times afterwards as well."

Then he told Harry to start moaning, as if in pain, and how the werewolf had shrunk back down to its human form.

"And people believed that," Lily scoffed in disgust. "If it was that easy, werewolves wouldn't even be classified as dangerous. They'd be a class three!"

Harry looked puzzled, not understanding the classification thing, but then Remus said bitterly, "I wish it was that easy," and then kept reading before anyone could comment.

Ending his tale with how he'd saved the village from monthly attacks!

"Really, I want to know how his books are sold without being found in the fictional section," James demanded. "People can't really believe he did that!"

Harry shrugged, he had no answer for that, but he certainly didn't believe it.

The class was dismissed and Lockhart took to his feet,

"Wait, he actually slammed you to the ground!" Remus asked, not having interpreted that from his prattling.

Harry nodded, saying, "more like he pushed me, then he waved his wand in my face a lot, but he didn't let the 'crowd' lose full sight of him, he stayed on his knees in front of the desk. I fell back behind the desk, happily out of the way. Only time I can remember not being afraid of someone's wand in my face." He finished grinning wickedly.

and told them their homework was to write a poem of his defeat of the Werewolf. He'd give a signed copy of his autobiography to the best one.

All five of them looked disgusted that this was even counted as a homework assignment, let alone the horrid prize.

Harry wasn't pleased, but he stuck around after class along with his friends, Hermione clutching a piece of paper.

"Oh," James said, "so when Ron said the teacher would have to be really thick, he meant literally."

"Here I thought they were going to try and pull one over on McGonagall," Sirius sounded as surprised as his friend, "now all they have to do is just walk up to him, give him a cheap

compliment, and they'll be done with it."

"I'm kind of disappointed," Remus sighed, "I wanted to see them pull something on McGonagall to."

"That was the most useful thing Lockhart did all year," Harry laughed.

Hermione was blushing and stuttering the whole time she asked him to sign for the book, stating she wanted it for some extra research.

Lily sighed in both disappointment and disgust, saying, "really? She's still star struck?"

"This is the girl that's about to do a sixth year potion?" James asked in disbelief.

Harry shrugged, he had no defense for his friend since he and Ron had seen him as a fraud on the first day.

Lockhart just praised her for having read his book, asking if she'd liked that one the best? Hermione agreed, saying he was very creative indeed when he'd used a tea strainer to catch a ghoul.

"What on earth?" Remus spluttered in disbelief.

"Doesn't Ron have a ghoul in his attic?" James asked, "I think I'd like to borrow that."

"It might not be there yet," Lily reminded them, not necessarily knocking the idea.

"I'd really like to hear that full story," Sirius said eagerly, "if the wizard populace fell for that, maybe I could use it next time I go to the Leaky Cauldron."

Remus snorted in disgust, not doubting his friend would do this one bit.

Lockhart pulled out a huge peacock quill to sign for the note, and misread Ron's look of disgust as one of admiration.

"If it's anything like your look," James said to Harry, "then he's even dafter than I thought, and that's saying something."

Harry broke out of his shock at the remembered peacock quill and chuckled at his dad.

He signed away on the book, then turned to Harry and offered him private lessons as he remembered the first game was to be tomorrow.

"Oh come on!" James and Sirius groaned, not believing for one second that match would get pushed off for two or even three more chapters!

"My Quidditch match was awful," James groaned, "I want another go at reading."

"I haven't gotten one at all," Sirius muttered, sulking.

"How do you keep getting the good chapters!" James demanded.

"Just lucky I guess," he grinned.

Then he boasted that he'd been a Seeker for his house team as well,

"Was he really?" Harry asked in disbelief, not believing much of anything from him anymore.

"If he was," Sirius shrugged, "it wasn't while we were there."

"He'd be ah, a fifth year I think," James said, "so if we just so happened to pop by, we could find out."

saying how he could have played professionally,

"Still doubt that," James scoffed.

but would rather he spend his life fighting against the Dark.

"By entertaining them on their long dreary travels with my absurd stories," Remus kept going as if reading that.

Sirius choked and snatched the book away, then smacked his friend with it saying, "Jerk, don't give me false hope that man grew a brain."

Remus took it back, grinning like a fool before really reading.

He told Harry that he'd be glad to give Harry some pointers, he was always happy to help out less able players.

"Less able my arse!" James howled, "Harry could go and play for England now if he damn well pleased."

"Really James," Lily huffed, "I'm not disagreeing with you, Harry is good, but don't encourage him to drop out of school."

James scowl didn't lessen one bit.

Harry gave some non-articulate answer back as he followed after his friends, Ron was griping that the man hadn't even glanced at the book he was signing for.

"Prat," all five of them muttered.

Concluding that he was brainless. Hermione tried to argue back, saying he was anything but!

"First time Hermione's ever been wrong I think," Lily said sadly.

Harry phased them out as they went down to the library and came across the librarian, Madam Pince, who reminded Harry of an unfriendly vulture.

"I am forever turning to you whenever I want to describe someone," Sirius cackled.

She was clearly suspicious of why they would want this book as she tried to take the note away from Hermione, but she clung to it and mentioned how she'd like to keep the paper.

Lily face palmed, muttering something in disgust under her breath.

The boys simply looked more annoyed by Hermione.

Ron convinced her to give it up, reminding her they could get another signature just as easily, as Lockhart would probably sign anything that stood still too long.

"I believe that," James nodded.

Pince eyed the paper with suspicion, clearly looking for a forgery,

"She can," Remus sighed, "I knew a Ravenclaw who mirror imaged Flitwick's signature once, and when Pince did that, she saw it somehow. Kid had detention for a week straight."

"I wonder if that's some kind of magical ability, or..." Lily trailed off, now looking like she wanted to go up there and ask herself.

"Well, we're planning a trip up to the school, you can ask her then," James said.

but the note worked as she came back several minutes later

"Wow, even she doesn't know where every bloody book is in there. Either that, or she had to go all the way in the back," James laughed.

with their requested book. Hermione took it and stowed it away, and the three exited trying to look as unsuspicious as possible.

"You gotten any better at that?" Remus asked, "because the last time you tried that, Snape took away a book."

Harry shrugged and said, "well, no one took that book away, we made it all the way to Myrtle's bathroom anyways."

The trio headed down to Myrtle's bathroom and began scanning through the book, coming across some truly terrible things.

"Why do potions like that exist?" Harry asked in disgust.

"The one about being turned inside out doesn't have a practical use," Lily shrugged, "it's a threat potion more than anything, sometimes given as punishment for a short period of time."

"The ministry is barmy," Sirius muttered, but Lily was ignoring him, and continuing, "the other about the extra limbs sounds like a transformation potion, though since you didn't say the name of it I can only guess at what she could have been turning into."

Harry nodded, slightly agreeing with Sirius.

Hermione found the potion she was looking for, and went looking through the ingredients she would need. There were illustrations of the effects the potion would have,

"Pleasant," Remus shuddered, knowing very well how painful transforming could be.

and Harry really hoped the looks of pain on those people were being exaggerated.

"Nope," Lily said, "it is not a pleasant process at all."

Harry didn't look very pleased about this.

Hermione mentioned how this was the most complex potion she'd ever seen.

"Well duh," James laughed, "it's a sixth year potion!"

Listing off several of the ingredients that were going to be very hard to come by.

"I hadn't thought of that," Lily agreed, having mostly thought of the act, "where did she plan on getting the ingredients."

"I don't think you're going to like the answer," Harry said nervously, he only had a feeling after all, but it wasn't a good one.

One part mentioning some of the person they were going to change into. Ron seemed particularly grossed out by this, claiming he didn't want to put anything of Crabbe's in him, but Hermione ignored the outburst.

"Err, what did she mean?" Harry asked.

"It doesn't have to be toenails," Lily said quickly, as Harry looked a little queasy at the thought, "hair is most commonly used, but any bit of them like that will do."

Harry still looked a little green, but nodded all the same.

Then Ron pointed out that they weren't getting this stuff from the student's cupboards, they'd have to steal it from Snape himself.

All four adults spluttered in disbelief, though the boys for a completely different reason then Lily.

"That's brilliant!" Sirius cackled, James and Remus nodding right along. It was high time that slimeball knew what it felt like to get his stuff taken. Hell they wouldn't be surprised if Snape hadn't stolen from Slughorn to make some of his potions in school.

Lily on the other hand practically screeched, "You're going to steal from a teacher!"

"Mum-" Harry began, but Lily cut him off saying, "No. Last year you bent the rules around a few times, and nearly got killed. Now, you are breaking them in half, and for what? Because you think that Malfoy did it? Even if he was, and he blabs it to your face, what would you do? Go to Dumbledore without proof? Harry no, this is one thing I will not approve of. That's even assuming a second year can make the Polyjuice Potion correctly, without the lot of you being poisoned or, or worse or..." she stuttered off as she realized Harry was looking beseechingly at her, and the other boys were giving her pitting looks.

Lily sighed deeply, took several deep breaths then continued in far calmer tones, "I'm sorry."

Harry smiled at once, clearly holding no grudge. Lily continued, "It's just, I hate that you feel you have to do all of these things. I wish you had someone there who would tell you these things. I wish..." she trailed off, then put another stern look on her face and finished, "but I did mean it. I disapprove. I do acknowledge though that these are things that have already happened, so I promise I won't yell again." Then she paused, hesitated for a moment, and added, "about this particular thing."

Causing all of her boys to burst out laughing, James saying, "I love your fiery temper." She smiled weakly at them, before waving Remus on. He had to get his breath back a bit, but did indeed still read.

Hermione lost her temper at him, snapping that if they were going to act like babies about this,

"Ooh," Sirius said, going a little wide eyed, "Hermione daring the other's into doing this."

"It was her idea in the first place," Remus reminded him.

"What's gotten into her this year?" James asked, bemused.

"She's a muggle-born," Lily said in exasperation, "of course she'd be the most worried about this."

All four boys turned to her in shock, then blushed slightly. They hadn't forgotten exactly, but Hermione was just so smart it was a little easy to forget.

that she could go put this right back! Ron quickly said that he had no problems with the plan, and Hermione returned to the book. Harry asked how long it would take for the potion to happen,

"Not going to answer that Lily," James asked.

"No," Lily said, "I want to see if Hermione knows first. It'll make me feel better."

Hermione estimated about a month.

Lily nodded, looking a might bit better. Had Hermione tried to rush the potion by any shorter amount of time, she would have been even more worried.

Ron was not pleased with that, stating dozens of people could be hurt by then, but when Hermione glared at him all over again, Ron agreed it was the best they could do.

"Ron's gotten much better at that," Sirius chuckled.

Then Ron turned to Harry and told him it would be far easier on everyone if Harry just knocked Malfoy off his broom tomorrow. The next day came up bright and early, the whole of the Gryffindor team at breakfast not looking very happy.

"It's normal to be nervous before any game," James said bracingly, he still had no doubt in his mind Harry and his team would do brilliantly.

Wood convinced them all to go into the locker room for a pep talk before the game, starting by pointing out that Slytherin had better brooms,

"Chipper as always," Remus laughed lightly.

but his team had better people on their brooms!

"Excellent sentiment though," Sirius beamed.

Pointing out that they had trained harder, in all the weathers, with George muttering in agreement that he hadn't been dry for months.

All five of them laughed at that.

Then Wood turned on Harry, telling him the match would come down to him,

"Ouch," Remus winced, "does he pressure you before every match?"

"Seems like," Harry shrugged, "but I don't mind."

to prove that it took more than a rich father to make it in this game.

'Which he should have anyways' James thought, knowing that wasn't anything of use, but he still wanted to be there for Harry in some way more than a vault.

Finishing with Harry had to get the Snitch, or die trying.

Lily sighed in trepidation, that didn't make her feel any better. She also dearly wanted to comment that this boy took a game far too serious, but didn't want to elicit a joke from Sirius, or even get snapped at for saying this.

She had no idea the boys might have agreed with her in that moment.

Spirits raised, the team went onto the field, and at a blow of the whistle, the fourteen players began.

The three boys looked very excited to hear this. They felt like it had been ages since they got to hear about a good game, which didn't involve worrying about Harry dying in the middle of the

match.

Lily still looked wary, Harry's track record in this game hadn't been that good, but she was willing to relax and hear about this.

Harry was the only one looking on edge. They put this down to the pressure he must be feeling, not knowing why Harry would be rubbing his right arm for some reason.

The Chasers began in earnest while Harry began flying around looking for his ball, when a voice called out calling Harry Scarhead.

"Scarhead," Sirius snorted, "I didn't think his insults could actually get worse."

Malfoy chose that moment to shoot past Harry, clearly showing off the speed of his superior model.

"Most likely," Remus grumbled.

Harry chose not to respond as a Bludger came pelting towards his head, and he had to either duck or get his head knocked off.

Lily shivered in disgust, hating that mental image.

George managed a quick praise to Harry for pulling that off while smashing the Bludger away and sending it towards the opposing team, but the black ball swerved in midair, and came pelting straight back towards Harry.

Remus voice grew very confused at the end of that.

"What?" Sirius asked, sure he had heard wrong.

"Err," James began, but he couldn't think of anything to say really.

"I've got a bad feeling about this," Harry sighed, rubbing his right arm.

Lily went a little bug eyed, but Remus now read on quickly, knowing by now Harry's bad feelings were usually not wrong.

Harry moved to avoid it, and this time George swung out with his full strength, knocking the ball off course. The Bludger was back again at once.

"One game!" James cried in fury. "I want one bloody Quidditch game that doesn't make me hate the whole bloody sport!"

"Why. Are. You. Being. Chased. By. A. Bludger." Sirius said slowly and distinctly, like he was trying to stop himself from yelling like James.

"I, I've no idea," Harry said miserably, very much wondering the same thing.

Lily put her face in her hands, wanting dearly to cover her ears as well so she didn't have to hear this.

Remus said, "Okay, I officially hate getting Quidditch chapters. Next time Sirius, I'm just going to give it to you anyways."

Sirius didn't look any kind of happy as his friend began in a wobbling voice, the horrid mental image of Sirius being bludgeoned the most prominent thing in his mind.

This time Harry chose to fly away in earnest, wondering why on earth the Bludger was still tailing him. The point of that ball was to go after all of the players, why was it so focused on him? Harry made a path and spotted Fred, and was able to swerve around him as Fred took his turn and pelted the ball with his bat.

"Thank Merlin for the twins," Sirius sighed, "they seemed to have noticed the problem already."

"Had enough practice," James muttered darkly.

Fred's triumph was short lived, as the Bludger continued going after Harry who chose to fly off again.

"Who could tamper with a thing like that?" Lily moaned, her face still in her hands. "I know those are very powerfully charmed. It would take some real magic to pull this stunt off!"

"Thinking it was Lockhart?" Remus asked weakly, "Are we still wondering if he's faking it? I kind of gave up on that after the 'werewolf' incident."

"No, he's still an idiot in my book until proven otherwise," Sirius sighed miserably, "and there's no way Malfoy, or any student for that matter, could be powerful enough to do this."

Stumped and with no leads who could do this, Remus forced himself to continue.

The weather wasn't helping, as thick raindrops started pelting Harry's glasses.

"You didn't put a Repelling charm on them?" James asked distractedly. "That's like the only charm any player's allowed to use, exclusive to the face only of course. Otherwise the rain will blind you."

"No," Harry said, no one had shown him how to do that, perhaps Wood thought he knew how to anyways.

The commentary was continuing below, as Lee announced Slytherin in the lead.

"Well that's just peachy!" Sirius groaned, not even having wondered about the game anymore now that Harry was in real danger of getting hurt. Again!

Harry became all the more frustrated as he realized the Slytherin's brooms were clearly outmatched his own teams. Fred and George were trying their best to help, constantly circling around Harry and taking turns swinging at the cannonball like object, but Harry reflected he'd never find the Snitch as he couldn't see around their flailing arms.

"I don't care," Lily yelped, "you're much safer being surrounded by them!"

The boys nodded in firm agreement, Remus asking, "why hasn't anyone called a timeout yet? Clearly something's wrong."

Harry sighed in defeat, knowing full well no one called this particular game off.

Fred managed to point out that someone had tampered with the Bludger

"Then why wasn't the game canceled," Lily ground out in frustration.

"Because Quidditch isn't canceled, not for anything," James sighed, for once in his life wishing the opposite.

"But it's obvious something's wrong-" Lily still tried, but was cut off by Sirius reminding, "Same was true of Harry's first game and that broom, and no one called it off then, even if they'd been given the chance. Quidditch just isn't cancelled Lily."

She sighed in disappointment, but stopped arguing the point in favor of hearing how Harry survived this.

in between smacking the ball away from Harry's head again. His twin somehow managed to call a timeout at the same time as stopping the Bludger from an impending attack.

"Props for multitasking," Harry laughed, but he was the only one who did.

The message came through, and the Gryffindors got a quick break as Harry and the two Weasleys made it to the ground while still having to avoid the rogue Bludger.

"Did it follow you onto the ground?" James asked.

"No," Harry said, "but it circled around me, like some bird in the air."

All four of them shivered, hating that mental image, and still unable to come up with a person who could do this.

Wood took the opportunity to begin yelling at the twins, pointing out they were losing,

"That's what he's concerned about!" James yelped.

"I'm really starting to dislike this kid," Sirius growled.

"He didn't notice," Harry said quickly, not liking that mean look that was flickering across their faces.

demanding to know where they'd been as the Slytherins had used the other Bludger to knockout Angelina.

"Saving my son's life," Lily hissed, only slightly forgiving the comment because of what Harry said.

The twins protested they'd been above, saving Harry's head! They quickly explained that something must be wrong with the Bludger, and Harry glanced over to see their timeout was already almost over.

"Did anyone else notice?" Remus asked.

"Not really," Harry sighed, "I think they noticed a bit more after this time out, but no one stops this game."

All of them looked beyond angry.

Harry then told his captain to tell the twins to leave him alone, let him handle the messed up ball on his own, making the crack he wouldn't catch it unless it flew up his sleeve.

"Really!" Sirius yelped, "That's your plan! At least let them pretend to do their job!"

Harry shook his head furiously saying, "No, I could handle it. I did handle it! Mostly," he finished lamely at their astounded looks.

"Harry," James said weakly, "a game isn't worth your head being knocked off."

"I know-" Harry tried to butt in, but Lily interrupted first, "If you do, then why are you so insistent about this?"

"I don't want our team to lose another match." Harry said furiously. "I didn't get a chance at the tournament last year, and if we called a time off it would be over for us again! I handled this just fine and," he sucked in a deep breath as he said with confidence, "I won us the match." Finishing

with a horrible wince of pain for having dared to tempt his memories.

The four of them exchanged unhappy looks, but finally admitted there was nothing for it. If he said he could handle it, who were they to argue?

"Least it would be impressive if you pulled off a Plumpton Pass," Sirius muttered without any real emphasis. All of them knew they weren't going to be happy until this nightmare of a game was over.

Fred snapped that Harry was being an idiot, that Bludger was going to come away with his head.

Remus winced as he read that, not liking that mental image repeated.

The rest of the team tried to protest as well, and George then turned on Wood and told him this was his fault! He'd been the one to tell Harry get the Snitch or die trying, and Harry had taken that too literally!

Sirius pursed his lips, dearly wishing to agree, but knowing it might offend Harry. If the determined look on his face was any indication, he made a good call.

Wood relented, and told Harry he could have it his way. Turning to the twins and telling them to leave Harry be for this game.

James muttered mutinously, knowing full well as team captain himself once, he would never have made that call!

The game resumed, and Harry had to resort to some pretty out there methods of avoiding the weighted ball. As it was heavier then Harry, it couldn't turn as easily, so despite the laughing crowd, Harry managed a couple of goofy spins to keep it away from him for the most part.

"I do not see how this is funny!" Lily snapped in disgust.

he knew he must look very stupid,

"At least you're dodging, who cares how it looks," Sirius muttered.

and he couldn't hover for more than a second for fear of getting hit, which he was reminded of every time his hair was gusted as the Bludger missed again.

All four of them shuddered in disgust again, knowing that wasn't going to get any better no matter how many times it was said.

Malfoy of course took the opportunity to mock Harry, saying he looked like he was training for the ballet,

Sirius was far too keyed up to make a comment on that lame joke.

but Harry hardly cared when he noticed what was hovering above the blondes head. While Malfoy sat there laughing at Harry, Harry had spotted the Snitch.

James smiled meanly, feeling a slight bit better at this jerk who was more than likely going to get his comeuppance, and a face full of Bludger if Harry went for it.

Malfoy clearly hadn't seen it himself he was too busy mocking Harry,

"So we were right," James said, trying vainly to change the subject to happier topics, "he's a

rubbish player."

"I'll bet Harry never loses a match against him," Sirius agreed.

and Harry remained frozen in place as he feared if he went for it Malfoy might notice and grab it first. SMACK!

Remus choked, bug eyed as he spat that out.

Harry was rubbing his right arm in remembered pain and said, "It hurt, I'm not going to say it didn't, but it's just a break. Nothing worse than that."

They nodded, taking a deep breath Remus kept going.

Harry had hovered one moment too long, the Bludger had finally landed a hit, and smashed into Harry's elbow.

'I don't think I want Harry on the Quidditch team anymore' Lily thought sadly, though decided to keep that to herself since she thought the boys might get mad at her.

Actually, the other three boys did agree. Harry didn't seem able to go a single game without something life threatening happening, it made him too easy of a target apparently.

Harry's vision nearly blacked out right then from the pain of a broken arm, but his determination won out even as the Bludger came back around for another hit this time going for his face again,

"It didn't hit," Harry reassured at once, when they all looked ashen.

only one thought firmly seared into his brain, get the Snitch.

"Credit for determination anyways," James sighed.

Ignoring his throbbing limb, Harry steered his broom one handed and went for Malfoy, who froze up in fear as he seemed to think Harry was moving to attack him.

"Not a bad idea," Sirius nodded, using this as a distraction from the idea of Harry's arm dangling useless at his side.

Malfoy flew away, and Harry's free hand closed around the tiny golden ball. Now he was left holding onto his broom with nothing but his knees.

Remus stopped here to shake his head in wonder at his cub. "You can now tell people you can catch a Snitch with one arm tied behind your back," he told him.

Sirius smacked him, hard.

"Ouch, what! You two can makes jokes, but I can't!"

"No," Sirius shrugged, "I just really wanted a reason to smack you back for all the times you've done it to me. Taking away my joke was just a good excuse."

Lily smiled indulgently at them, almost envious of their ability to joke around while being equally as worried. Everyone coped in their own way she supposed.

Now there was nothing stopping Harry's broom from going towards the muddy ground below, which Harry never felt as blackness continued coloring his vision.

"How did that work out for you?" Lily asked uneasily.

"I think I lost conscious for a few seconds," Harry shrugged, "I wake back up and it's still raining on me anyways."

Lily nodded, slightly content with that.

Suddenly there was mud all around him, and Harry was only vaguely aware that he still had the Snitch in hand as he waved it around and claimed that they'd won, before passing out.

"I'm going to laugh if that was all just a dream," James chuckled, his son never ceased to amuse him.

"He's had some vivid dreams before," Sirius agreed.

"Hopefully he'll wake up with a teacher over him, waiting to heal his arm," Lily grumbled, still unpleased with the whole scenario even if her son came away perfectly fine.

Harry came back to quick enough, rain still falling on his face, and gleaming teeth above him.

"Oh no," Remus groaned, planting his forehead against the book in genuine pain at what could possibly happen next.

"I didn't mean him!" Lily yelped, "I meant McGonagall!"

"Next time when you're hoping for something, be name specific," James grumbled.

Harry's very first words were 'not him!' The guy just laughed, saying Harry had no idea what he was saying.

"He knows exactly what he's saying," Sirius growled.

"You never seem to though," Remus huffed.

Sirius gave him a confused look, unsure if his friend was making a joke at him or Lockhart, but Remus wasn't going to answer.

It was Lockhart, standing amongst the crowd of Gryffindors as he soothed Harry that he was going to fix his arm.

"No!" All five of them yelped in real fear.

"That moron can't handle a pixie, I don't want to even think what would happen if he tried that!" Lily hissed.

"With any luck, a puff of smoke will escape," Sirius said, "then he'll make up some lame excuse, and prattle Harry's ear off up to the Hospital wing."

Harry was still rubbing his arm in remembrance, he had a bad feeling about this. He knew one thing, his arm stopped hurting after Lockhart's spell. It wasn't for a good reason though.

Harry tried to say he'd rather keep it as it was,

The three boys chuckled weakly.

but he was in so much pain he couldn't move away. He also heard the distinct noise of a camera going off, and shouted out that he didn't want a picture of this Colin!

"Why would you take a photo of that," Lily asked in disgust.

"Kid's going to make a great photographer one of these days," Remus smiled, "he's certainly not squeamish."

"That wasn't my point," Harry huffed.

Lockhart ignored all of this as he pulled out his wand, and Harry still tried to protest as he said he'd much rather go up to the hospital wing.

"Because he's a pompous, big headed, arrogant-" Sirius began, while Lily finally cut him off saying:

"Sirius, I'm sure you can keep going for a year, but I want to hear this."

Wood had been one of the onlookers this whole time, and chose now to pipe up and say that Harry really should get help from the professional, but then turned and praised Harry for his marvelous catch.

"I really hate agreeing with him," James grumbled, thinking Wood was too happy for the circumstances. You could be happy about winning after all of your players were healed up!

Harry spotted Fred and George a ways out, still fighting with the Bludger and trying to force it back into its crate, but the ball was still fighting back.

"Whoever cursed that thing, I'm going to curse them into oblivion," James vowed.

Harry wondered why his automatic reaction was to correct his Dad. Why would he want to defend whoever did this?

Lockhart was ready now, rolling back his green sleeves,

"Jeez, wonder which team he was supporting," Sirius said vaguely.

and pointing his wand at Harry. There was no more chance to stop him, as Harry began to feel an odd sensation from the tips of his fingers all the way to his shoulder.

"That's not the feeling you should have," Lily said, real fear creeping into her as she wondered what this inept idiot had done to her son.

"Wish it had said the spell he tried," Remus muttered, "because I'd like to use it on him."

"He said Brackium Emendo," Harry offered brightly, knowing full well Lockhart deserved whatever his family was thinking up, though still having an issue with remembering why.

"That's, actually a real spell," Lily said in surprise.

"So why isn't the feeling he's having the right one," James said uneasily.

Lily bit her lip before waving Remus on, trying to figure that out herself.

Harry got the odd sensation that his arm was being deflated.

"Well," Lily began again, thinking out loud now, "I know that if you don't have enough magical ability to perform a spell properly it often does the opposite effect. That's why you don't walk in trying to do seventh year spells," Lily explained that part for Harry's benefit, "so if this dolt hasn't built up enough of an ability to perform this spell correctly..." she trailed off, puzzling, "what would be the opposite of mending broken bones?"

"I don't want to find out," James sighed as Remus read on, now a little curious himself, and having an abundance of faith Madame Pomfrey could fix it if, most likely, Lockhart simply broke

the bone further. Then of course, he'd just have to hurt Lockhart all the more for prolonging Harry's pain.

Harry was to terrified to see what had been done to his arm even as the crowd around him gasped in shock and the mad clicking of a camera doubled up.

"That can't be a good sign," Sirius muttered.

His arm didn't hurt anymore,

Lily perked up in surprise, perhaps Harry just had a unique reaction to the spell?

nor did it feel remotely like his arm.

"Not a good sign at all," James agreed.

Lockhart tried to brush it off as Ron and Hermione approached, saying he'd done all he could and they could take him up to the Hospital now to tidy Harry up.

"Tidy him up?" Remus asked, "What does that even mean?"

"Fix his screw up," Harry muttered.

"You remember what happened?" James asked quickly.

"No," Harry sighed, knowing he wasn't going to be able to hold the memory until the book said it, "but I know it wasn't good."

Harry got unsteadily to his feet, feeling oddly off balance. Sucking in a big breath for fear of what he was going to find, Harry finally glanced down at his arm and nearly blacked out again.

"Did he remove your arm or something!" Lily yelped.

Harry opened and closed his mouth several times, but now that he seemed to actually remember what he saw, he didn't seem able to spit it out.

Remus read quickly now.

Hanging from his shoulder was a loose pile of flesh. His fingers wouldn't move, his wrist wouldn't turn, nothing was happening.

There was a muscle twitching in Sirius' jaw as he finally realized what had happened.

Remus looked like he really was going to pass out.

James and Lily refused to react until Remus flat out read.

Harry realized that Lockhart had not in fact fixed Harry's arm, he'd removed all of the bones in it.

"He's dead," James vowed. "He is officially a dead man. He-" he spluttered out, most likely to outraged to finish his sentence.

"What I find most interesting," Remus said threw gritted teeth, "is how he managed to switch those spells! You're supposed to stop making those kinds of mistakes at fourth year, at the latest!"

"What spell did he actually use?" Harry asked.

"It's called Ossio Dispersimus," James said, "only used in the most severe crisis, when the bones can't be mended for some reason or another, and you have to temporarily take them out."

"So they will grow back," Harry said eagerly, his family didn't seem that concerned about this.

"Oh yes," Lily said at once, "take a bit of Skele-Gro, and your bones will come right back."

Harry nodded, then still deciding he was curious, asked, "How would you switch spells like that?"

"It's a rookie mistake," James snorted, "but something that can happen when you start learning spells, and then counterspells. If you aren't concentrating on the spell you're intending to use, you can accidentally cause another spell to happen."

"I'm not surprised," Sirius huffed, "that idiot can't focus on anything but his reflection. He shouldn't be trying any spells!"

"Just proves his incompetence all the more," Harry shrugged, "not that anyone should have

needed it."

Still furious, but calmed slightly by the subsequent discussion, they were all willing to keep going without shouting death threats, for now.

Madam Pomfrey wasn't pleased. She was yelling at the lot of them for not taking Harry to her the moment this had happened, while tossing Harry some spare pj's and telling him he'd have to stay the night. Harry was relieved when she promised she could fix his arm though. Ron had to help him put his shirt on, trying to stuff the rubber mess into a sleeve.

"Ew," Sirius wrinkled up his nose at the mental image.

Ron was yelling at Hermione that how could she stick up for Lockhart now! Hermione pointed out that anyone could make a mistake,

"I've never heard of anyone doing that after the age of sixteen," Remus sniffed, "by that time, any idiot can master the concept of focusing on one spell at a time."

"Can't believe Hermione is still sticking up for him," Lily sighed.

and reminding that it didn't hurt Harry anymore. Harry huffed that it hardly felt like his arm either as it uselessly flopped around at his side.

"Gross," James grumbled.

Madam Pomfrey came back with a bottle of Skele-Gro, telling Harry to drink it up, and warning Harry that regrowing bones was a terrible process.

Now it was Harry's turn to wrinkle up his nose in disgust at the remembered taste of that.

"What did it taste like?" Sirius asked, he'd never known anyone who had to take it.

"Nothing you'd ever tasted before, or wanted again," Harry grumbled.

The Skele-Gro tasted terrible and left a foul taste as it went down Harry's throat. Madam Pomfrey began heading back to her office once he'd finished, muttering furiously about dangerous sports and inept teachers.

"The worst part is, I can't even argue with her this time," Remus sighed.

Ron tried to look on the bright side by pointing out the look that had been on Malfoy's face when they won the match. Hermione asked how on earth he could have done that to the Bludger, and Harry said they could just add it to their list of questions they'd ask when they took the Polyjuice Potion.

"Sorry Harry," Lily sighed, "I just don't see him being able to do that. Those Bludgers are charmed especially so that they can't be tampered with. No student should be able to get past that."

Harry nodded, agreeing with his mom's opinion even without the feeling's reinforcing that she was right.

Then he hoped it at least tasted better than the Skele-Gro.

"Sadly not," James wrinkled his nose in disgust, "I had to take some once, Auror training protocol and all, and it doesn't matter who you change into. The stuff is awful."

"Gee, thanks dad," Harry said.

The rest of the team showed up then with proper drinks and candies to celebrate Harry's victory, George praising Harry on his win as well and telling Harry how he'd seen the Slytherin Captain yelling at Malfoy for not grabbing at the Snitch right above his head.

"With any luck he'll get kicked off the team!" Sirius said brightly, finally finding something good about this match.

Madam Pomfrey came back around then, kicking every one of them out and saying how Harry needed rest. So Harry had nothing to distract himself from the burning pain that was beginning in his boneless arm.

"Her intentions are good, honestly," Remus sighed, "but if I'm ever told to rest again, I really will smack someone."

James and Sirius exchanged smiles, knowing full well they had never indulged in Pomfrey's rules. They had always used James cloak, and snuck down to see Remus, and they wondered if Ron

and Hermione would do the same.

Harry managed to fall into a fitful sleep, and woke several hours later. At first he thought he'd been awoken by the horrible pain in his arm that felt like he was growing his own splinters.

"Ouch," they all muttered, not liking that description one bit.

Then he realized there was someone on his bedside, patting a sponge against his forehead.

"Hermione?" James asked, sounding more confused than confident.

"Why would she be there?" Lily asked.

"Because these two knuckleheads were thinking Harry's friends would sneak in to see him," Remus offered, "but I think Hermione doing that is a little odd."

"I think it just proves all the more how much she likes Harry," Sirius snipped, giving Harry a look he didn't understand one bit. Of course Hermione liked him, they were friends.

Harry snapped for whoever to stop it, then he recognized Dobby.

"Dobby!" They yelped in surprise. "What's he doing there?" Remus added on.

"What's he doing there?" James repeated when Harry looked uneasily around the room, his dad's voice coming out between gritted teeth as he guessed what Harry was thinking now.

"Ah, why are you asking me," he finally said, "I've no idea."

All four of them grumbled a bit, having a really bad feeling about this. The last time Dobby had been around, it hadn't been very pleasant, and they were just as weary this time.

The house-elf was obviously distraught, watching Harry with tears leaking out of his eyes.

"Wait," Sirius said, "so does that mean, did Dobby have something to do with paralyzing Mrs. Norris?"

"What makes you think that?" James asked.

"He's trying to scare Harry into leaving, I'm wondering if he might have pulled that stunt to keep that going," Sirius shrugged.

"No," Remus said, going a little pale, "but you're on the right track, I think. What if Dobby was trying to scare Harry away from the school because he knew something like this might happen."

"A house-elf knew a cat would be paralyzed?" James asked in disbelief.

"It's not out of the realm of possibilities," Lily agreed with Remus.

"Well then who paralyzed the cat, and is making Harry hear a voice," Sirius asked, throwing his hands up in frustration. They were pretty well into this book by now, and still had no real suspect.

All five of them sighed, letting it go for now.

Dobby was scolding Harry for having come to school, how he was still in danger and why hadn't Harry just given up when he missed the train?

"Well, guess I was right," Remus sighed, not looking very happy.

"Yes, yes, that does tend to happen sometimes," Sirius scoffed.

"Now I just want to know if I was right about why he did," Remus huffed, ignoring Sirius so that he could read.

Harry pushed Dobby's hand, and the sponge, away as he heaved himself upright.

"That's kind of creepy," James muttered, finding it much less endearing than a girl that was a friend of Harry's.

"It's like he adopted Harry," Sirius nodded. "If Dobby didn't have a family of his own, and Harry was of age, Harry could possibly bind Dobby to his family line."

"Is that really how it works?" Lily asked.

"It's more complicated than just saying it," Sirius smirked at her, "but something along those lines."

Lily huffed, unable to decide if he was being sarcastic, and none of the boys were helping.

Harry demanded to know if Dobby had really been the one to block him and Ron!

"How?" Lily asked in disbelief, "Exactly how powerful are house-elves?"

"Very," Sirius said with a straight face, "they're probably the most powerful magical creature that exist, which is why they were enslaved by wizards so many years ago."

"How were they enslaved if they're so powerful?" Harry asked.

"That's a long, really ugly history on the wizard part," Remus said, "we'll try and explain that later."

Harry nodded in content for now.

Dobby agreed it was him. He'd been so stunned to hear that Harry had still made it to school he'd messed up on one of his chores and forced to iron his own hands.

Lily winced in sympathy for the poor thing all over again, though honestly thinking she was still annoyed at him being the cause of all of Harry's problems this year.

Dobby said he didn't care though, saying how he thought it was worth it because surely Harry didn't have another way to get to school.

"Also proves my earlier point," James nodded, "he clearly has no idea how things work if he thought the train was the only way to get to school."

Dobby had been so surprised to hear Harry was at Hogwarts he'd burnt his master's dinner, and received his worst ever thrashing.

Lily's lower lip quivered in real pain for this creature now, saying, "I feel like an arse. How are there not laws in place to prevent this kind of thing?"

"It's not your fault Lily," James said at once, "exactly how many people are involved in that type of thing, and none of them have said a word either."

"Besides," Sirius shrugged, "I doubt there's anything you could do. Pass as many laws as you like, house-elves belong to their owners. You can't control the way they're treated."

Lily fired up at once, snapping, "Like you can't control the way people treat animals, or their own children! There are laws to prevent that kind of abuse! You see house-elves as less than them!"

Sirius' superior look faltered for the first time. He disagreed with nearly every aspect of his parent's life, but the one thing he'd never had a problem with was their treatment of Kreacher. He was a vile thing, hateful and spiteful to the extreme, to him anyways. So whenever he saw him being punished, never bothering to learn the reasons, he'd had no problems. Never having met any other house-elves besides the ones at Hogwarts, who he'd given about as much attention as the ghosts into their free time outside of politely giving him food, he had no reason to think otherwise about the species as a whole.

Dobby certainly hadn't changed his mind so far, he was being an absolute arse trying to keep Harry out of school. Now, at Lily's words, he suddenly thought of Harry at Privet Drive again, no

one taking the time to care what happened to him. Harry had tried comparing his life to Dobby's and Sirius had scoffed at the idea, there couldn't be any similarities, right?

He shook off his feelings and snapped at Remus to keep going, ignoring the curious looks from everyone else at what exactly had him quiet for so long.

Harry was more exasperated than anything as he told Dobby he'd better get lost before he got both arms back, or he'd probably strangle Dobby himself. Dobby said he was used to death threats, he got them frequently enough at home, then he blew his nose on a bit of his pillowcase.

"Wow, I kind of forgive him," Remus said sadly, "this is just sad."

James and Lily both nodded, Sirius crossed his arms and said nothing. Surely the elf was just trying to get Harry to pity him.

Harry asked why Dobby even wore that, and Dobby said it was a mark of being a house-elf, not being allowed to wear clothes. Dobby could only be freed from his slavery if masters gave him clothes, and they were very careful never to pass Dobby so much as a sock.

Harry went a little cross eyed for a moment, hating that feeling of significance that was gone as soon as he tried to understand why.

Dobby changed the subject then, saying he'd been sure his Bludger,

"His Bludger!" Sirius roared, "he tried to break your head open!"

"Sirius, you said you wouldn't add him to your kill list," Harry said weakly, "whatever he did remember? Dobby's got the right intentions...I think."

This calmed the others, slightly. They were still angry, but they had promised not to take it out on Dobby. He must have a reason for this if Harry said so.

Sirius though, was still furious. He'd only agreed to that because he thought Dobby wouldn't make another appearance, that his worst thing he'd done was make Harry's life even more miserable at the Dursley's, more than enough reason to warrant his fury, but he had given Harry the benefit of the doubt in pitying the creature. Besides, it not being his house-elf, he couldn't do anything about it anyways. Now, he was determined to find out whose elf this was, and silently planning on doing something to the stupid little thing. Maybe not kill him, he'd keep that promise, but he would never take anything threatening his godson's life without taking revenge back.

and Harry cut him off in outrage, demanding to know why Dobby wanted him dead! Dobby corrected he didn't want to kill him,

Dobby corrected he didn't want to kill him,

"What did he think was going to happen when he aimed a weighted ball at your head?" Remus demanded.

"Err," Harry said lamely, he had no response for that.

he only wanted to save his life. Better to go home with an injury,

"So he intended to send you home limbless!" James yelped in disgust.

"I don't care what the elf thinks," Lily huffed, "if you couldn't be helped at the school, you would have been sent to Saint Mungo's, healed there, and then come back to school."

"Like Dad said," Harry shrugged, "Dobby doesn't know how this stuff works."

"That's getting old," James muttered.

then to remain at school. Harry snapped that Dobby needed to tell him why Harry was in such danger.

"If he answers that, I actually will forgive him," Remus huffed in agitation. Clearly Dobby knew something he wasn't telling.

Dobby moaned that he still couldn't, but it was dangerous here! Harry was too important to be lost that way, as he still stood for so much good. How his kind had been treated so much better since the fall of You-Know-Who. Something terrible was happening at school now though, and it involved He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

"Why would that be?" James asked curiously, "people would treat their house-elf's the same without Voldemort being around."

"More of Dobby not having a clue what's going on," Sirius muttered in disgust.

Lily gave him a scathing look. She had thought she'd seen, for just a moment, something pass across his face. Now it was gone, and he looked as surely as any other time elves were mentioned.

Now that the Chamber had been opened again, terrible things were set to happen.

"Once more?" James asked in surprise. "When was it opened before?"

"I've never heard of that," Sirius agreed.

"Wish we had," Remus sighed, "we might have gotten more clues where it is."

"Are you lot crazy?" Lily yelped in disgust, "the 'monster' that's supposedly in there doesn't bother you!"

"Nah," Sirius said, "that's probably just fake, to scare people away from finding it. Slytherin might have hide something really valuable there, and I want to know what."

"So here's hoping Harry might find it," James said, going bright eyed for a moment.

"I want to slap all of you," she sighed, rubbing at her own temple. Harry fought back the urge to agree with his mother.

Dobby froze up as he realized he'd said too much, and he picked up Harry's cup and began cracking himself over the head with it as he scolded himself.

"This elf is weird," James said, "I don't get why that was a secret."

"Well, since we didn't know about it, I'd say it isn't widely known," Sirius shrugged.

"Wonder what happened before," Remus said thoughtfully.

Harry quickly took the cup back and tried to argue that what did this have to do with him? He wasn't even muggle-born, why was he in danger?

"That's another good point," Lily nodded, "his statues, should protect him. Why is Dobby so freaked over Harry in particular?"

"No good reason," Harry sighed.

Dobby pleaded with Harry to stop asking questions, just to please leave. Harry refused, wanting to know who had opened it before, who had done it now? Dobby still insisted he couldn't say.

"So he knows then," Remus said, raising a brow in surprise.

"Geez, I really want to know who Dobby's owner is," Sirius said, ulterior motives aside, he just knew that this elf's owner would somehow be important for Dobby to be knowing all of this.

Dobby froze up then, and Harry heard why. Footsteps were headed up, and Dobby took the chance to disappear again. Harry quickly curled back up in his bed to feign sleep as the door opened.

"Probably for the best," Lily said sadly, "he clearly couldn't tell you anything, or if he let something slip out he beat the crap out of himself."

"Here's hoping he doesn't come back," Sirius muttered.

Dumbledore came in backwards, looking like he was carrying some stone figure by its feet,

Remus stopped right there, glancing up briefly at the others who all looked as scared as he felt.

"A statue," Lily whimpered, "like a human sized statue?"

Harry nodded dumbly, knowing full well he wasn't going to like what Remus was fixing to read.

"Please tell me it was Lockhart," Sirius said weakly.

Remus sucked in a deep breath before reading.

and McGonagall quickly followed with the head. They laid it gently on the nearest bed while McGonagall tore off to go and get Madam Pomfrey. She returned demanding to know what had happened, and Dumbledore explained that Minerva had found him on the stairs.

"Him?" Lily yelped.

"On the stairs?" James said with unease, "It wasn't Ron was it?"

"No," Harry said with confidence.

"Stop interrupting me," Remus huffed, "I want to know who it is."

The married couple went silent at the rebuke.

McGonagall said how she'd found some food next to him, and theorized he had probably been on his way up here to visit Harry.

All five of them shivered in disgust, hoping dearly McGonagall was wrong.

Harry took a chance and glanced over to see it was Colin.

"Bloody hell," Sirius groaned.

"That poor kid," Lily whispered.

"Who would attack him though?" Remus asked, running one hand through his hair in frustration, "everyone hates Mrs. Norris and Filch, but who has a grudge against a first year?"

"Maybe it's random?" James offered.

"Or it really is someone against muggle-borns," Sirius said, fidgeting a bit and hoping he was wrong.

"You still can't tell a muggle-born just by looking at them," James disagreed, "so unless someone knew Colin, that shouldn't matter."

"I still want to know how!" Remus asked when it appeared they still had no new leads on the first question. "The only thing that can petrify people like that is a gorgon. I refuse to believe one is getting in and out of that school without being noticed."

They all sighed as they realized, despite a new victim, they had no more answers than before, and in fact more questions.

"My question is, what's the point?" James grumbled, "this can't all just be to scare the students. There must be an endgame to this."

"Let us know if you figure it out," Harry said miserably.

He was as petrified as Mrs. Norris had been a look of great shock on his face, barely visible underneath the camera he was holding against his eye. McGonagall was muttering in relief that it was just lucky Dumbledore had been on his way to get something to drink.

"I thought Dumbledore said McGonagall found him on the stairs?" Sirius asked, trying to distract himself again, "what, did she really fear she couldn't handle whatever on her own."

"Would you want to handle this on your own?" Remus shuddered.

"Do gorgons eat people or something?" Harry asked.

"They're not known to," Remus shook his head, "they're not categorized as beasts anyways. They haven't been known to make any appearance at any congregation of our kind, so very little is known about their habits."

"They're found in Greece," Sirius added, "there's never even been a sighting of them here."

Dumbledore made to remove his camera, and McGonagall asked hopefully if Colin had somehow managed to get a picture of who'd done this to him.

"Now that's interesting," James said thoughtfully, "has anyone ever brought out muggle things to see what happens when a gorgon stairs at it?"

"Don't even think about it," Lily snapped at once, "I don't even want to think of you lot out there trying those kinds of stunts."

The boys all huffed in annoyance, Sirius saying, "I told you Lily would be a killjoy."

"Be nice," James said at once, "she just means she doesn't want to hear about it, because she wants to come. Isn't that right Lily Flower."

Lily looked to the ceiling, as if praying for patience, and Remus took that as his cue to keep going.

Harry felt like he was going to be sick again, but he was learning to control the feeling the more it went on. It wasn't a gorgon, his instincts were sure of this, but he refused to allow another memory to blast him again. They clearly scared his family, so he would just have to wait and see to find out

what it really was, and in the meantime, ask as many questions as it took to take his mind off this pain.

Dumbledore opened up the camera,

Lily was tempted to point out that under normal circumstances, that would have ruined the film, but this was a magically imbued camera so perhaps there were charms in place to protect this?

Either way she didn't know cameras that well, and didn't want to delay in pointing this out to the others.

but they all yelped in shock with black steam came jetting out of the back of the camera, and Harry could clearly smell melted plastic.

"Well that answers that question," Sirius said, a little disappointed.

"I'm surprised Colin would have still gotten petrified though," Remus said thoughtfully, "after all the only sure fire way to not be hurt by the gorgon's look is to only look at their reflection. I guess looking through a lens wouldn't count."

"Again, something more to test," James grinned.

Lily twitched, and James automatically flinched back like he thought she was going to slap him again. Lily instead smoothed some hair back from her face, exposing a vindictive smile.

McGonagall was stunned as she demanded of Dumbledore what on earth could have done this. Dumbledore simply answered that this confirmed the Chamber was in fact open again.

"How does he work that out?" Lily asked grumpily, more than sick of this whole school being so vague this year.

"I wonder," Remus pondered, having noted something about a monster within the Chamber earlier, it didn't really add up though...

"What are you thinking Moony?" James asked.

He shook himself and said, "let me finish this chapter, it's only a bit left, then I'll explain."

McGonagall asked who,

"That's what we want to know," Lily grumbled.

but Dumbledore corrected it wasn't a who they should be worried about, but how.

"Okay Remus, how?" James demanded.

HPHPHPHP

Actual favorite chapter of this book, I tell even though no one asked.

#Harry Potter #Lily Potter #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #James Potter #Reading the Books #fanfiction #HP #Chamber of Secrets

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liesonthefloordramatically · 5 years

Note

S H R I N E

Wow, you and @jojolightningfingers are apparently drift compatible, congratulations.

S. Are there any songs that heavily influenced your writing?

The majority of the stuff I wrote this year had either a writing playlist or a song! (Shrine AU didn’t other than this sonic experience, and I think that’s it.)

A song for each fic if you wanna explore some of their sonic landscape:

Buddhism fic

two points of a triangle

what happened before (will happen again)

string of beads to me

maybe I will talk to you

Contact

we’ll make our homes on the water

Most of the time it’s a “I’m writing a fic; what’s the correct background vibe?” kinda thing, but occasionally a song will spawn ideas or wind up shifting the mood of a fic in one direction or another.

H. How do you write? Paper, pen, computer? Music, no music?

Mostly on my computer in a Google Doc, but occasionally on my phone, also in a Google Doc. I tend to write in short bursts, which makes phone-typing manageable. Music, music, music always! I don’t function well with silence in general.

R. If you had to rewrite one of your stories from scratch, which one would it be? What would you do to it?

From this year or from all years?

From this year: I’m actually not sure that I’d rewrite anything I wrote this year? At least not from scratch. But it usually takes 6 months to a year for me to go from “nah this is pretty good” to “actually, this is garbage,” so ask me again next year.

From all years: I have such a horribly complicated relationship with “Once all of this is over,” because folks seem to really like it and I like some of the ideas in it but don’t actually care for 95% of the execution. The cheating answer is “I’d write linear time is fake instead” because that’s sort of what I actually did, but the less cheating answer is that I’d take a much lighter touch and develop a lot more of the relationships that are happening in the background. I wrote it while I was still in my “writing dialogue in fanfic is scary” phase, so there are a lot of aborted scenes gestured at rather than, you know, actual conversations.

I. What works were most important to you on a personal level this year?

hhhh, I feel like everything I write for Stone Ocean winds up feeling...weirdly personal. “string of beads to me,” especially, felt so personal that I almost didn’t post it. Part of it is that writing ace fic feels too intimate to me! Even if I’m writing about people very different than me! I tend to prefer having at least one level of separation when I’m writing fiction, so I write about themes that I feel strongly about, but tend not to like writing things that feel too close to autobiography. And yet...Stone Ocean. Every time. Oh well.

That said, most important to me is probably “maybe I will talk to you.” I put...so much blood and sweat and tears into that thing, and I’m so, so frickin’ proud of it. Depictions of complicated relationships between mentally ill and neurodivergent people are super important to me, so I’m glad I got to contribute to that genre.

N. Anything you were planning to write that never got written?

Given the speed at which I write, “planning on writing but haven’t finished yet” might mean “will be finished in the next few years.”

That said, I have a Bruno character study that I was sure I was going to finish sometime during the summer that has instead fallen hardcore into WIP hell. I want to finish it at some point because it’s a cool little concept but I also don’t know when that’ll be since I mostly feel a tremendous amount of anxiety whenever I open the document.

E. Write anything e-rated this year? ; ) What’s your target audience for any given story?

Nothing E-rated but did write my first M-rated fic! Almost all the fic I’ve written has been T-rated, mostly because I’m like “ehhhhh, this is probs...PG-13, right? It has some swears. That’s PG-13, right?”

#ask Queenie #parallelism palooza: the journey

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surveys-at-your-service · 5 years

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Survey #236

“so i asked you once, and i ask you again: where do your roots start, and where do your roots end?”

Do you wear a ring on your finger? Yeah, a Supernatural reference best friend one. Do you listen to your friends’ advice when they give it to you? I mean, it depends on the kind of advice and the seriousness of the issue. I'd say in most cases, yes. What’re you listening to right now? "Angel Eyes" by New Years Day ft. Chris Motionless. Have you ever thought about getting your nose pierced? It has been, twice. I don't think I'll do it again because my glasses are just in the way and they come out and get lost too easily. Is your last ex still someone you care about and do you still have romantic feelings for your ex? Yes to both. My feelings towards her haven't changed at all, we just made a heavily-discussed, hard, but wise decision for the time being. Are you someone’s best friend? Sara. What’s the biggest annoyance in your life right now? Annoyance, ummm... oh, easy. Being poor as dirt. That's only slightly under my skin, y'know? Have you spoken to your mother today? Yeah, I live with her. When was the last time you cried and why? PTSD. It's started to become relevant again, jOY to THe WOrlD!!!!!1!!!1!!!!! Is there someone who makes you instantly smile when you receive a message from them? I mean I don't always smile, but I consistently do get excited. If someone loved you right now, would you want them to tell you? *confused screaming* Do you like to cuddle? If I'm seriously romantically into you, yes. Is any part of you sad at all? I think that's always going to be a thing for me, somewhere down in there. Do you like seafood? Only shrimp, and even that I don't like in some forms. Do you have any of your exes as friends on Facebook? Yeah. Does more than one person like you? Idk. Do you ever worry that people might be talking about you behind your back? Always. Fuck, I think Sara's the only person I can count on to never. Do you call your partner ‘baby’? I hated it and never used it 'til Sara. I eventually did, and somehow, it felt okay and not disrespectful??? Idk if I'll use it again. What's the most boring guy’s name out there? Like, "Bob" or something. Do you know how to play Mahjong? Nope. Ever had a promise ring? No. What’s the biggest turn off in the opposite sex? Send me a dick pic and I will actually KICK you in the dick. Fun fact, even though I'm still bi, visually, penises gross me the fuck out and so I'd rather see someone's as little as possible, m'kay? Doing that is like a surefire way for me to decide "oh no bye boy." How often do you catch yourself daydreaming? A whole lot. This time last year, were you single? No. Who is someone you’ll always hate? The doctor that put me on a medication that put around 100 pounds on me and blamed it aaaaaall on me. :^) Do you know anyone with the same name as you? Yeah, just spelled differently. Who knows your biggest secret(s)? Sara. Do you ever read the threads on r/AskReddit? No. Are you currently stressed out about anything? You have no fucking idea. What’s your Instagram @? brittanymphotography or eldritch_obscura, depending on what kind of photography you're into. Don't have a personal one. Have you ever smoked a cigarette? No. Are you in love with anyone at the moment? It's so complicated. I think, but I also question the "in" love part. That and just "loving" are different to me. I want her, I want Jason, and here I am strictly monogamous. I barely understand what I feel romantically rn. If a friend called you to help hide a body, would you help or turn them in? UM fuck that I'm calling the cops. Have you ever had a crush on someone that, now as you look back, is completely embarrassing? Not really. How would you react if a friend started dating your ex? When "ex" is used singularly, I always assume you want The Ex. So, regardless of friend, that'd feel weird, but with certain people/levels of friendship, less so than others. If you were in an emergency, which friend would you call first? So not family? Uhhh, I don't know. It depends on the kind of emergency. Ever kissed someone who wasn’t single? No. Other than that "someone who wasn't single" being my partner. Are you single? if no who are you dating and for how long? Not right now, no. What kind of music do you listen to? Tons of different forms of metal, rock, indie, and I'm even into some electro stuff now. Do you have any YouTube videos of yourself? Thank the merciful lord, not anymore. What’s your fave YouTube video? BIIIIIIIIIHHHHHHHHHH the one featuring Dark in A Heist With Markiplier. I am not exaggerating my love of White Suit Dark. Use three words that best describe your best friend: Passionate, loyal, and resilient as a motherfucker. Now use three that best describe you: Also passionate, empathetic, and caring. List three things that describe your crush/love: Look I love someone but am also preoccupied with the idea of Jason coming back to me. It's not a "crush," it's being in love with a memory. I don't have a clue how to answer this rn. Is there someone in the family that no one really talks to? As far as extended family goes, yeah. Have you ever been romantically interested in a coworker? N/A What is the game you’re currently playing most often on your phone? None; I have no games on it because my phone has incredibly small memory. Same. Are you close to someone who is mentally unwell? Well, define "unwell." I have a load of friends and family with mental disorders, but calling them "mentally unwell" seems too severe. Do you have an opinion on adopting/purchasing a pet? Adopt, dude. There are so, SO many cats and dogs and I'm sure more that need a home, but you'd rather pay hundreds for a dog with likely some sort of health problem from extreme breeding than adopt an animal for a far cheaper price that ALREADY needs a family? Come on, now. Have you ever read any of your idols’ books/autobiographies? I read Ozzy's autobiography. Do you know anyone who is freaked out by cats? ???????????? no????????????? What name would you pick for yourself? Probably "Zoey." Do you enjoy going to live shows? Do concerts count? 'Cuz yeah. Who do you spend the most time with? My mom, I guess? She's the only one I live with, but she's like, never home because she works more than she breathes. What color do you wish your hair was? Natural hair, blonde. So much easier to dye, jc. Does any of the jewelry you wear have sentimental significance? The ring mentioned earlier, as well as the bracelet Sara also gave me. Who is your favorite drummer? Eh, no op Do you find musicians attractive? This is a dumb question... It depends on the musician??? If you could get any piercing, what would it be? I want a microdermal below/near the outer corner of my eye NOW. But I have glasses so it would totally ruin the purpose, ugh. Do you scream, yell, jump around and dance at shows or do you stand still? Just cheer, really. I wouldn't call it "screaming." I guess I can yell, too? Have you ever lost your voice from screaming so much? "No. I’ve had a sore throat." <<<< This. What’s your favorite color on the person you have feelings for? Both Sara and Jason, as well as like anyone, I love wearing black. Actually, Sara is super cute in light colors, like baby pink. Ugh talking about them at the same time feels fuckin weird. Who’s your favorite horror monster/killer? Alright, let's just say like, the "traditional" guys. I suppose Jason? His silence, totally casual pursuit, and mask creep me out, man. What kind of music do you prefer to listen to when driving? When I myself am driving, I don't want music on. I can't concentrate. Are you willing to board airplanes? I've gone up to see Sara like... three times within two years, I think? They don't scare me too much. I don't like takeoff, though. Too rocky and dizzying. Do looks really matter to you when it comes to friendship? ??????????? what?????????? the fuck??????????????? Do you accept friend requests from people you don’t know? Nope. I have to not only know you, but care more about you than like the average acquaintance of whatever. What is one of your best talents? Writing, I guess? Are/were you a rebellious youth or angsty teen? ha ha oh BOY Do you put your change in a jar for savings? No. How do you feel about transvestites? BITCH y'all great. I love you. Fuckin ROCK YA SHIT. Do you know anyone with a land line at their house? Yes, actually. Do you have any guilty pleasures? Certain kinds of daydreams. Have you been in a fist fight with someone you didn’t want to fight? I've never had a physical fight. Has anyone ever convinced you to do something you didn’t want to? Sure. Usually for my own benefit/growth, though. Are you a sensitive person? Yeah, quite a bit. Do you enjoy writing? Yep. Are you a germ-o-phobe? YEAH. Would you ever own a hairless rat, cat or dog? I would TOTALLY have a sphynx. There's this one breed of dog too and is furless on most places but does have some furry areas and are so ugly they're cute, and I once almost did adopt a hairless rat. So there's your answer. Do you prefer big, fluffy towels or normal sized/smaller towels? BIG FLUFF What is the image on your beach towel? Don't have one of those. Are you good with making eye contact? NO. I never know how long to maintain it and overthink it HEAVILY. I avoid it most of the time. What is your favorite book that was turned into a movie? Probably The Outsiders. I thought it did the book great justice. Do you like the movie or the book better? I don't remember either well enough. Do you watch porn? No. I don't want to watch some strangers bang each other. It's in no way arousing to me. What’s your favorite flavor of applesauce, if any? I guess just normal? Do you go to a firework show every 4th of July? Nah. Are you diabetic? No. Are you allergic to gluten? No. I don't think I'd survive. Are you lactose intolerant? No. Do you live with your parents? Just my mom. Parents are divorced and Mom had full custody, and my two sisters are proper adults that can survive without their mommy. :^) How much experience do you have written down on your resume, approximately? NOT A LOT!!!!!!!! I only count like, one damn job that was valid/lasted a couple months, but only because I very rarely worked. I also only include my previous online college, and should I create a resume now, obviously the one I currently attend. What’s your favorite song to dance to? I do not dance, my friend. What do you think of your parents? Both of them are great. Mom is the reason I'm (in the big picture) healthy, even alive. I WOULD be dead, died a long time ago, if it was not for that woman. Saved my life again and again and again, been there for me through both the same old shit and new madness. I'mma stop here before I actually cry just thinking about how thankful I am for her. Dad, too, I love, and I aspire to be as positive as he seems nowadays. His loyalty to my sisters and me, especially after the shit I've said, is incredible. He doesn't take a lot too seriously, and that's nice, especially when you're having a hard time. He's an optimistic guy now that always makes an effort to cheer you up. He's a total goof, too. He's just fun to be around. What do you think makes you attractive to other people? HA, fuck if I know. I guess my vertical lip labret stands out? Everyone I've dated since having it has at some point pointed out that that's like, my trademark that makes me recognizable right off the bat and that it looks good on me. One of the few things I even like on myself. Would more money make you happier? Look me right in the fucking eye and answer "no" to this. What is one of your favorite memories as a child? Watching my older sister play demo discs' video games after waking up. It's something so simple, but idk, I love remembering that. What’s your favorite kind of cake? Probably red velvet, like gd that shit good. Who is your favorite sports team? Idc. Like I have a natural fondness towards the Carolina Hurricanes 'cuz they're Dad's favorite and we've gone to some games together, but I really don't care. Who would you like to get to know better? I have this high school acquaintance named Courtlynn on my Facebook that seems so cool and relatable. She seems to like me too (not romantically, but she's really supportive, hearts like everything, comments the sweetest stuff sometimes, all that), I just think both of us are shy to reach out. What is the strangest food you ever ate? "I don’t eat anything I consider strange. I’m so picky and basic." <<<< Big 'ole fat same. What’s your favorite thing to order at a Chinese food restaurant? I exclusively only eat pork fried rice and/or egg rolls. Are you an organ donor? YES!!!!!!!!!! PLEASE BE ONE!!!!!!!!!! YOU DON'T NEED THEM ONCE UR DEAD!!!!!!!!!!!! THE LIVING DO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SAVE SOME LIVES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! What’s your favorite candle scent? FRESH BAKED BREAD MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM What would you do if you found an abandoned animal? Check for identification and call if a number is given, offer it food and water, put a notification up on Facebook about a lost pet... all that stuff. We'd try to avoid a shelter, probably, because yeah. Euthanization is a thing. Have you ever kissed someone who had a tongue piercing? I am the one with the tongue piercing lmao. No. Is it easy for someone to make you cry? OH YES, QUITE. How many children can you see yourself having? IF I had kids, IF, I could not possibly imagine myself with more than two. What is your favorite PlayStation 1 game? SILENT HILL FUCK MAN I LOVE THAT SHIT. Are you competitive? Not really. Depends. Black and white or colored photos? It very much depends. Composition, lighting, content, all that contributes to what I find more aesthetically pleasing. Do you prefer to date younger, older, or the same age as you? Preferably around my age. What’s something from the past that you don’t miss at all? Being a depressed mess every waking moment of my life. Do you like ice cream cake? Not really. Do you wash your hair every day? No, every day is bad for your hair. Do you have trouble sticking to promises? Definitely not. I'm good at that. Have you ever made out with someone of the same sex? Very briefly. She thought she was ready, but not quite. What kind of headphones do you have? Right now they're literally just flimsy hot pink earplugs from a dollar store lmao. How often do you go to parties? Never. Do you sleep in awkward positions? I don't think so. Do you experiment a lot with new looks on yourself? Not really. Where is your favorite place to be kissed? Don't touch my tits with, like, anything. Do you ever quote your favorite movie in normal conversations? No? Do people ever tell you that you look stoned when you’re not? No. Do you suffer from anxiety or depression? *shrugs* why not both? Do hospitals freak you out? To a degree. Been there enough times to both get semi-used to it, but it also agitates old wounds and makes me antsy to get out. What about cemeteries at night? I've never experienced this, so I can't say. But the idea doesn't really creep me out, no. What is your favorite Nintendo 64 game? I never had one. Were you mean as a little kid? Nah, I was a good kid actually.

#survey #quiz #questions #random #bored

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andagii-writes · 6 years

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“A Drop Echoes” Postmortem

Or as I like to think of it, a grand old vomitfest that I've been writing in between chapters so I can keep myself oriented on the fic. And I waited until I finished uploading A Drop Echoes in the Hollow to post it here.

Speaking of which, did you guys enjoy it? While I see all the comments and kudos and bookmarks on AO3, as well as reviews, favorites, and follows on fanfiction.net, I just want to ask. It's literally been nearly 6 years since I posted ANY fanfic online, and having had a not-so-good experience with online socializing or collaboration before, I'd been fairly apprehensive to start posting again.

Shout-out to both Ginger and Draco @gingerdrakewrites and their fics for giving me the courage to move on from those bad memories, and spurring me to start writing and posting again.

I’m here to share some thoughts with y'all about this here fic, 'kay? It's gonna be a long one so pull up a chair, warm up a tea or coffee or cocoa or whatever, drape yourself in a blanket, and relax.

Regarding Kutone

Writing professors told us all the time, that the first full-length project we finish will almost always be some kind of autobiography.

While I haven't had the same tribulations as Kutone, yeah, she is my autobiography.

Mixed race, Afro-Asian. Fairly successful in academia and supposedly has the potential to do more, but she throws it away to pursue something for her own sake. Overcomes self-inflicted isolation and learns to trust and love people again. (Admittedly, I'm nowhere close to doing that last bit.)

After that, she's the ideal I want to be.

Successful. Cool. Sexy. Independent. A little bit taller. A bit of a baller. Badass. Experienced. Confident. I count all these things she has that I don't, and I shrivel up inside.

So here's Kutone, the woman I wish I could be, and I, as the writer, pushed her off her pedestal and shattered her. It felt nice. That there's character development, supposedly.

Writing professors and college-level workshop mates also told me "don't use exotic names for your characters."

To that I say fuck all y'all.

Regarding Sebastian

AKA, the major reason why I decided to purchase Stardew Valley in the first place. Funny story, this one. I was scrolling through the screenshots on the Stardew Valley Steam page, and I think there was a screenshot that happened to show Sebastian's sprite. "Oh okay," I think, "he's kinda cute."

My sister charges in, takes one look at the screenshot, and says, "Man I was about to say he's cute, but god that nose..."

And as we cackled at Sebastian’s expense, I bought the game and started playing it. Made Kutone my avatar (meaning she seriously had no significance until I developed a certain businessman...) and started futzing around in Stardew Valley. With Harvest Moon and Animal Crossing under my belt, I got it pretty quickly.

Met Sebastian and had to put my head down for a few minutes.

‘This man is a reflection of me,’ I thought. I know a lot of other players feel the same way, like the dev had unknowingly taken a piece of my psyche, molded it into pixels and coding, and then, huh, here's a relatable character named Sebastian. That being said, I wanted to write him in a way that avoided the usual tags and labels people tend to slap him under: "emo," "goth," "depressed," "anxious," "gloomy," and basically every other iteration of those words that I felt made him so... meh, you know?

I settled on a new label for him, a label intrinsic to A Drop Echoes: "pathologically introverted."

The guy's actually really expressive, you know. It's just that, due to not being able to wholly trust anyone, he doesn't readily show those expressions. Which would explain why he's such close friends with Sam, and it also gives him a whole other layer of characterization to work with. Minimal, yet loaded. I guess that's where the popular "emo" tag comes from, but I'm still not a fan of the nuances of that label. Yes, he's emotional, and he tries, I think, to not show it, but in the face of sheer logos (like Demetrius), Sebastian knows he doesn't stand a chance. He's hyper aware of the fact he's emotional, but can't compromise that with his more logical side. So he shuts it away.

He needs a safe place to open up. Sam is that safe place. Abigail is that safe place. To a lesser extent, Robin is that safe place. And in writing A Drop Echoes, I wanted him to find another safe place--a permanent safe place--in Kutone. Someone who's a lot closer to him in personality, and someone who seriously puts her faith in him as a safe place. More than anything else in his life, that reciprocation is the magic he needs to "come alive" again. After that is a matter of, will he take it and run and see how far he can go? He knows he has potential. And he has his plan: take his bike out and never look back. Head out to the city and live his ideal life there. Does he fulfill it?

The original game didn't let him.

I like to think Kutone did.

Regarding Rhei

Origin? I had a crush on someone a lot like him--though mine was more angelic in comparison to devilish Rhei--at the same time I remembered a rule in a handbook about no dating in the same workplace. Yeah...

Anyway, based on what I eyeballed from the comments, about 96% of you hated Rhei. How do you feel about him now? Tell me things!

At the time I wrote the chapter starring him, I made this post, which was basically me fangirling over my own character.

Bet you didn't click it. That's okay. TL;DR, Rhei very nearly destroyed the rest of this fic, because Kutone was thiiiiiiis close to getting back together with him. Maybe in some AU version of the fic, they did, and that would be an interesting story on its own. She would have totally broken Sebastian's heart. Totally. That would have been some fun angst to write, but dealing with love triangles and their fallouts--even thinking about that concept makes me shrivel up inside.

I actually have an entire standalone document detailing Rhei and Kutone's relationship! How it started, how Jaci got involved, how successful Rhei and Kutone were, how deeply in love they were. They were too perfect for each other, so they burned up like blazing sawdust. This piece is their theme song. (Also I'm in love with biosphere mkay spare me.)

Regarding Changes

Grading myself here, I think I'm at a B-?

I did good on this fic. Still a good chunk of room for improvement, but despite the fact I want nothing more than to get it out of my face, I like what I've done. Like damn. I wrote a book and I kinda like it.

Things I'd change:

1. Wordiness - I do get too purple in some places, but I also would not sacrifice my prose poetry in certain parts either. 2. Risks - I thought about a lot of these. For instance, Kutone should have slept with Alex, and Seb should have caught them. Again, like Rhei barging in, this would have changed the entire arc of the fic, and I believe that once you cheat, there's no going back to what you were before. Doubt's always going to be a source of conflict in the relationship, and I refuse to believe people like Sebastian or Kutone would ever trust each other again if an affair was on the table. So I shriveled away from that risk too. Sometimes, I gotta let my imagination go there, and see where each rabbit hole takes me, y'know? 3. Omit BS - I'd either cut or fuse a lot of the early chapters. Also, much as I love Alex, a couple of his chapters were really unnecessary. 4. Character arc/Story arc - Is it even there? It needs more! What is even a climax? That was always the one point in the "mapping plot arcs" lessons that I could NEVER understand! More studying necessary.

Any other thoughts? Anything you guys want to ask me about A Drop Echoes before I fully focus on Sunset Stars? Ask me anything, send me your thoughts, theories, conspiracies, cries of mercy, comments or questions to my characters, anything at all, to my lonely inbox.

Also, lastly, but not least, I want to use this moment to thank you all again. For real. Thank you for your love and support, and thank you especially for cheering Kutone on to the end.

With that...

#stardew valley #sdv sebastian #stardew farmer #writing #fanfiction #wip complete #postmortem #writeblr #a drop echoes #sunset stars #ocs #anda's ocs #personal review

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your-dietician · 3 years

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Richard Marx has many great 'Stories to Tell' — and one big Twitter controversy he'd like to clear up

New Post has been published on https://tattlepress.com/entertainment/richard-marx-has-many-great-stories-to-tell-and-one-big-twitter-controversy-hed-like-to-clear-up/

Richard Marx has many great 'Stories to Tell' — and one big Twitter controversy he'd like to clear up

When superstar singer-songwriter Richard Marx began work on his new autobiography, Stories to Tell, he knew it wouldn’t be a racy, sex/drugs/rock ‘n’ roll tell-all like Motley Crüe’s The Dirt or Pamela Des Barres’s I’m With the Band. “I’ve always been a very private person. I’ve never been in the tabloids. I’ve never been that kind of celebrity, if you will,” he explains to Yahoo Entertainment. In fact, Marx never expected to write his memoirs at all, but after playing VH1 Storytellers-style acoustic shows about a decade ago, he realized, “I have great stories. I’ve had some really crazy, funny s*** happen to me.”

Those tales, which cover Marx’s early days apprenticing for Lionel Richie to his work with Kenny Rogers, Madonna, Barbra Streisand, NSYNC, Olivia Newton-John, Keith Urban, Luther Vandross, and many others, comprise Stories to Tell: A Memoir, which comes out July 6 and hit No. 1 on Amazon’s bestsellers list the day it went up for preorder. “I chose [stories] that were either compelling or funny or self-deprecating or whatever,” says Marx. “There’ll be stories I’ll tell you about my life that I wouldn’t necessarily, you know, write on Twitter or whatever.”

The cover for Richard Marx’s autobiography ‘Stories to Tell: A Memoir.’ (Photo: Simon & Schuster)

Marx is big into the self-deprecation thing. The funniest line in Stories to Tell is when he says the upside to undergoing double hip-replacement surgery was that “Richard Marx” and “hip” could finally be used in the same sentence, for instance. And his Twitter page is a delight, a compelling read in its own right — his famous tweet about going to the dentist because he felt like hearing some of his own music is but one RT-worthy example of his snark. Marx owns his squareness, but ironically, his posts have, intentionally or not, made the public realize that he’s a pretty cool dude.

The perpetually unbothered Marx also gets very political on social media. And one since-deleted tweet in particular, when he wrote — “If I ever meet Rand Paul’s neighbor I’m going to hug him and buy him as many drinks as he can consume” (a reference to a 2017 incident when Paul was assaulted by his neighbor, Rene Boucher) — made headlines in May 2021, after the Kentucky senator outrageously cited Marx’s tweet as the reason he’d received a suspicious package at his home. It was a rare moment when Marx actually was in the tabloids, and he uses his Yahoo interview to clarify that situation.

Story continues

“I mean, it seems pretty obvious. I made a quip. Let’s start with this: Do I, would I, ever really endorse and support physical violence against someone? I can’t think of a circumstance,” Marx stresses. “I made a quip, which I likened to you hear about some raging assh*** who’s just constantly an assh*** getting his ass handed to him — and you might go, ‘He kind of asked for it,’ or, you know, ‘He kind of had that coming.’ Show me a person who’s never, ever thought of that in regards to anyone, and I’ll show you a liar, right? To me, what I quipped was nothing more than that. Stupid me — Rand Paul used that to his advantage. He went on Fox News and pathologically, as he always does, lied about what I tweeted, what I said. He actually claimed that I incited violence against him, that I was the reason he got a suspicious package of powder the next day in the mail. I thought, if I did that, [U.S. Postmaster General] Louis DeJoy should get a raise. If you can get a piece of mail to somebody overnight now, then I’ve been misinformed.

“I made a joke. And you know, the people who rallied to [Paul’s] defense are the same people who defended, or had nothing to say, when Trump retweeted someone saying, ‘The only good Democrat as a dead Democrat,’ or never had a problem with Donald Trump at a rally saying, ‘Knock the hell out of ‘em, I’ll pay the legal fees; go beat up protestors exercising their First Amendment rights.’ So, these people who were supporting Rand Paul and attacking me are just the typical ultimate hypocrites, and they’re full of s***. So, that’s my comment about that.”

Marx actually prefers not to use the adjective “political” when describing his non-partisan social media stance. “I am definitely opinionated, and I definitely find it next to impossible not to respond to what I consider to be blatant ignorance or bigotry or certainly racism. I guess the word ‘political’ is the easiest one to use, but I don’t know that it’s the most accurate, because I’m not on Twitter or in any other part of my life espousing policy or opinions about much other than proper treatment of everyone — and especially when it comes to elected officials,” he clarifies.

“For instance, I’m 57. I started voting as soon as I could. So I guess my first presidential vote was in ’84, and it was for Ronald Reagan. I have voted for Republican politicians in my life. I’ve definitely voted more for Democrats, but I’m a registered Independent. I’m not a Democrat. Also, as much as I find the current GOP to be the most distorted, vile, awful group of people I’ve ever seen in my lifetime in terms of politics, I’m also no fan of anyone in the Democratic party. None. Joe Biden would not have been my… maybe 20 years ago, I would have been like, ‘Yeah, Joe Biden might be a really good president.’ And don’t get me wrong, I’m thrilled that he won this election. But he would not have been my choice to be the president of United States. The screwed-up thing is I can’t necessarily point to anyone I would say should be, on either side of the aisle. I think they’re all, to a degree, different forms of reprehensible and mercenary.”

Marx says, “In a span of an hour, if I were to look through my mentions, I’ll find 50 people calling me every name,” but he balks at the argument that pop stars shouldn’t express their opinions. “It’s interesting, because when I get into a thing on Twitter, especially when you have people on the far right who say things like ‘shut up and sing’ and ‘nobody cares about the opinions of celebrities,’ these are the same people who voted for Donald Trump and follow Scott Baio, you know what I mean?” he chuckles. “So, that kind of tells you right there with the kind of mental decision-making we’re dealing with. … I feel like I can’t be on the [Twitter] platform and see something that is so outrageous and awful and not respond to it.”

Watch Yahoo Entertainment’s full, extended Richard Marx interview below, in which he tells stories about Luther Vandross, Vixen, Barbra Streisand, and more:

There are plenty of people who follow Marx online who are now well aware of his frankness and hipness — but unless they read Stories to Tell, they still may not be familiar with the simply stunning breadth of his discography. Sure, he has scored 14 of his own Billboard top 20 hits, including nine that made the top 10 and three that went to No. 1, and was the first male solo artist to have four singles from a debut album make the top three on the Billboard Hot 100. But has always been an in-demand songwriter for other artists as well. However, as Marx himself notes, many people don’t even know that he co-penned Luther Vandross’s signature song “Dance With My Father” — despite the fact that he accepted the Song of the Year honor for that single, and performed it with Celine Dion, at the 2004 Grammy Awards when the ailing Vandross was unable to attend. Hits written or co-written by Marx have topped the charts in four different decades and in almost every genre (“Not polka, though,” he quips), but there’s one more thing he’d still like to accomplish.

“I’ve gotten to work with amazing people, and hope to continue to. But the one thing that has eluded me in my career… Vixen, for example, I wrote and produced their breakthrough song [“Edge of a Broken Heart”]. I wrote co-wrote and produced Josh Groban’s first single, ‘To Where You Are.’ So, I’ve worked with brand-new artists who broke out — but I didn’t discover them,” says Marx. “That’s probably something that I would like before I really call it quits: to discover a talent, bring them to light and launch them, and then just wish them well, whether I work with them or not. … I’d like to be able to have some artists say, ‘Yeah, it was Richard Marx who started my career.’ That would be nice.”

Early in his autobiography, Marx details how Lionel Richie played that role in his own life — when Richie randomly heard the then-teenage Marx’s demo tape and was so impressed that he reached out and encouraged Marx to move to Los Angeles to pursue music professionally. But one sweet Richie story, which Marx shares with Yahoo Entertainment during our interview, actually didn’t make the book.

“A year and a half or two years ago, two summers ago, I went with Barbara Streisand to London and she asked if I wanted to be part of the opening act slot for her concert in Hyde Park. Lionel Richie was one of the support acts, and I’d hoped to run into him. I think I had texted him on the way to London and we were going to try to get together, but it was chaotic. I closed my show. And by the time I got back to my hotel, there was a text from Lionel,” Marx recalls fondly, putting his hand on his heart. “He was staying somewhere else. He texted me and he said, ‘I’m sitting on my balcony of my hotel room, listening to you sing “Right Here Waiting” and hearing thousands and thousands of people singing it even louder than you are. And I can’t tell you how proud I am.’ And I remember texting him back and saying, ‘It’s because of you, man.’”

Read more from Yahoo Entertainment:

Follow Lyndsey on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Amazon, Spotify

— Video produced by Jen Kucsak, edited by Jimmie Rhee

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malunedyne · 7 years

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aesthetic themed ask list: you know the drill fam, all of them now!

BRUUHHH IS THIS BLACKMAIL

fairy lights: if a crystal ball could tell you the truth about anything, what would you want to know?

will i ever be a successful writer/artist of any kind? how can i achieve that?

daisies: what is the greatest accomplishment of your life?

being able to be grateful and enjoy small things in life even if i feel like i’m at the peak of my dysthymia (lol)

1975: what is the first happy memory that comes to mind, recent or otherwise?

a very random day i’m not sure why it got stuck on my head some +5 years ago when it was raining and i was outside my house, throwing lemons of my lemon tree towards the neighbors’ houses lmao

matte: if you knew that in one year you would die suddenly, would you change anything about the way you are now living?

totally, i would start writing full time and maybe planning on doing some small trips before it

black nail polish: do you have a bucket list? if so, what are the top three things?

-visiting a foreign country (japan would be my dream)-publishing a work (either a book or a photograph in a prestigious place)-be truly in love and loved back

pantone: describe a person close to your life in detail.

-she’s the only one who knows in EXPLICIT detail how my sublimation mechanism works, the biggest of my weakness, what makes me feel shame the most….. a college friend of mine, intellectually clever, emotionally not so much, shares big passion for the same EROS subject

moodboard: do you feel you had a happy childhood?

-i can’t complain about it, i remember good things mostly, i still went outside and played but also enjoyed video games and cartoons; i was a loner but never felt lonely, my imagination compensated alla that

stars: when did you last cry in front of another person?

-in the first days of the year in front of my parents lol i was so done with everything

plants: pick a person to stargaze with you and explain why you picked them.

-i’d choose my father cause he surely would tell me some good stories or about the myths…..

converse: would you ever have a deep conversation with a stranger and open up to them?

-that’s literally what going to therapy almost is lmao jks that’s not therapy well i think if i could feel reciprocated, i would

lace: when was your last 3am conversation with someone, and who were they to you?

-3 am???? i guess it was my last best friend, but we barely think of each other now

handwriting: if you were about to die, and you could only say one more sentence to one person, what would you say and to whom?

-it would depend on a lot of things, honestly

cactus: what is your opinion on brown eyes?

-cute and it doesn’t give me the creeps to stare at directly, lmao (eyes too light give me anxiety to hold visual contact with)

sunrise: pick a quote and describe what it means to you personally.

“A Hero must struggle!” how can you know a Hero is a Hero without trouble though? isn’t life made out of trials? A Hero must not be just a muscular, strong figure who makes physical tasks, it also speaks of mental and intern fights too..... I wrote a whole paper on this and would surely write more about it

oil paints: what would you title the autobiography of your life so far?

-1000 reasons why thinking everything will solve by itself later is a lie and a bad idea

overalls: what would you do with one billion dollars?

-find another place to live with my family; travel. a fucking lot. but first, give my parents what they need to solve some financial and health issues. donate to environment protection orgs, buy shittons of gaming and anime merch like the hopeless half-arsed grown adult i am

combat boots: are you a very forgiving person? do you like being this way?

-I can forgive anyone but it takes some time. I like being like that, everything that hurts me i sublimate later through my writings, so even that displeasure, has a /creative/ function in my life

winged eyeliner: write a hundred word letter to your twelve year old self.-bitchyou’re dumb as hell, but wise as fuck. you don’t give three fucks about time,enjoy it while you can. you may have encountered yourself with people who tryto hurt you, mess with you and you feel bad about yourself, but it’s not yourfault in the slightest, nor they are right. never allow them to be in controlof YOUR emotions. you need to stand for yourself and yourself only, you don’tneed to prove shit to no one. Write. Write. Write. and never stop. use everythingand turn it into words: good, bad, fears and dreams.

pastel: would you describe yourself as more punk or pastel?

both depending on the #mood

tattoos: how do you feel about tattoos and piercings? explain

piercings aren’t really my thing but I like tattoos (not hardcore-like tho), I’ve think of getting one but I get overwhelmed and my mom would kill me lol (if my siblings agreed on getting a small Triforce tattoo and each of us pick one part /i’d pick wisdom tho/, i’d be more than happy to get it done)

piercings: do you wear a lot of makeup? why/why not?

I used to wear mascara (but i caught an eye infection, lol), now i just do the basics: powder and lipstick.

bands: talk about a song/band/lyric that has affected your life in some way.

uhm….. i owe led zeppelin a lot because it supported me thru the worst of my first major depressive episode, and i have a thing with Pink Floyd The Wall….. I used to listen it on repeat thru the last straw of it, so it naturally makes me feel depressive and somewhat suicidal ???? but just in thought….. I can’t listen to Dark Side of the Moon because I feel useless as well lol

messy bun: the world is listening. pick one sentence you would tell them.

we need to stop being arrogant, selfish and stupid enough to think everything is here to serve us; we can’t dissociate ourselves from nature and the environment as if we were self-sufficient.

cry baby: list the concerts you have been to and talk about how they make you feel.

oh now this is sad lol

grunge: who in the world would you most like to receive a letter from and what would you want it to say?

the person who will spend their life with me, and where to find them

space: do you have a desk/workspace and how is it organised/not organised?

uhmm….. hehe

white bed sheets: what is your night time routine?

i set /most of times/ my stuff for the next day, uniform; i eat/drink something and put a glass of water beside my bed, wear my pajamas, pray a little for the people i love, or render thanks for stuff, and think of my stories or some gay shit before till i fall asleep (if i’m lucky enough, i get to dream of it as well)

old books: what’s one thing you don’t want your parents to know?

-same as u fam @electroma89, I want my parents to know my interest in writing and such, just like my father does buuuuuuuuuuut the topics of my interest i doubt they’ll understand and it’s a total wild card trying to guess how they would react like

beaches: if you had to dye your hair how would you dye/style it and why?

have u seen MCU’s Gamora? that’s how I’d wear my hair

eyes: pick five people to go on an excursion with you. who would you pick and where would you go/what would you do?

-uh….. lol idk, i’ve always have wanted to go to somewhere quiet and watch the stars

11:11: name three wishes and why you wish for them.

-Peace and Love on Planet Earth….. is there anything that’s worth more?-having self discipline….. i swear to Hylia lots of my problems could be avoided that way-meet someone who loves me and i can love back….. my life has placed me in the worst places to know people, i swear…..

painting: what is the best halloween costume you have ever put together? if none, make one up.

-i’ve never dressed for halloween, but i’d like to; though i can’t think of any rn lol

lightning: what’s the worst thing you’ve ever done while drunk or high?

-opening up to people more than i should had

thunder: what’s one thing you would never do for one million dollars?

-hurt someone from my loved ones; steal from the poor

storms: you on only listen to one song for the rest of your life, or only see one person for the rest of your life. which and why?

-only one song??? FUCK i couldn’t say a person, but i’m sooooo special with songs i’m not sure….. maybe Le Cygne by Camil Saint-Saens, maybe that one

love: have you ever fallen in love? describe what it feels like to realise you’re in love.

-i’ve never been, i’ve been infatuated, but in love? as in love for real? i don’t think so

clouds: if you’re a boy, would you ever rock black nail polish? if you’re a girl, would you ever rock really really short hair?

-i was thinking in cutting my hair real short…. i might do it next year

coffee: what’s your starbucks order, and who would you trust to order for you, if anyone?

-i’d trust anyone who acknowledges i love italian sodas instead of coffee lmao

marble: what is the most important thing to you in your life right now?

-getting some writings done and figuring out what to do once my internship trial is over

BRUH this is some deep shit for real omfg

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bibliophilebookreviews · 4 years

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The Dutch House

The Dutch House by Ann Patchett

I don’t remember how I came across this book, but I saw that the audiobook was narrated by Tom Hanks and I was so excited. I didn’t even know what the book was about.

Here’s the spoiler-free premise: Danny Conroy was raised in “the Dutch House,” a beautiful home his father purchased as a surprise for his mother years before Danny was born. But, Danny’s mother (Elna) was never happy there, though her husband Cyril, who owned several buildings, was quite successful. She left when Danny was a small boy, leaving him and his older sister, Maeve, behind and never to be seen again. Maeve becomes gravely ill, believed by the Cyril and the Conroys’ house staff to have been brought on by Elna leaving, and is soon diagnosed as diabetic. Maeve, however, takes great care of Danny and through everything they experience -- their father remarrying Andrea, who practically hates them, their father dying unexpectedly and Andrea throwing them out, and their father leaving nothing to them except a trust for Danny’s (and Andrea’s daughters’) education only -- the two become extremely close, practically inseparable, and inevitably entwined in each other’s lives. (Mini spoiler: Maeve doesn’t really have too much for Danny to be entwined in; it’s mostly Maeve being entwined in Danny’s life.)

This novel didn’t really feel like it had a plot to me -- I spent the entire first chapter wondering what this book was even about. And getting mildly annoyed that Danny said “the Dutch house” repeatedly. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed it, but it was really more of a memoir than a story. It reminded me a lot of How I Met Your Mother, though Danny isn’t telling the story to anyone in particular. He’s really just reminiscing, maybe writing an autobiography.

What I appreciated most about this book is that though it’s written from Danny’s perspective, it doesn’t sound overly manly or forced like Patchett wants to make sure you know it’s a man talking. I also think this book would actually make a good movie, mostly to see Danny and Maeve’s relationship play out over time, but also to see how Danny really comes into understanding various pieces of his own story that he’d never known or considered. And to see the various minor characters weaving their way in and out of Danny’s life; I like that we get a few glimpses of Danny’s memories from others’ perspectives as well. (I almost want Tom Hanks to play Danny, but then it’d be hard to not think of Forrest Gump.)

Finally, I’ve seen other reviews comparing this book to Hansel and Gretel, but I thought it was more of a Cinderella story, mostly because of Andrea. I’d recommend, and it might be worth it for me to read this book again, too.

— THE REST OF THIS REVIEW WILL CONTAIN SPOILERS —

So first of all, I’m a little peeved at Danny’s father even entertaining Andrea as a wife when she so clearly hated his children. I mean, especially since his wife LEFT them (the kids) I don’t know how he could be with a woman who obviously didn’t love them -- and never would. And when he dies and everything she had him change in his will comes to light, you just see how conniving she is and always had been, even from the outset. Did she even love him or just want his house and money?? I was a little disappointed that she “lost her mind” in later years and would never really have to confront everything she’d done.

And let’s talk about their mom: I just don’t understand her. No matter how much they talked about and even after Danny finally accepted her having left (because I don’t think he ever truly forgave her...maybe) I still feel like she could’ve done so much better. She definitely could’ve come back sooner, even if she and Cyril were divorced and even if the kids might’ve been upset. And I really didn’t appreciate her pushing so hard to go in the house when they drove over. I thought, this woman really has some nerve. I was absolutely flabbergasted that she actually went to help take care of Andrea. I mean, of all people!

Fluffy was a strange person to me. I appreciated her memories, her insight, and her compassion, even for Elna, but it was weird to me that she respected Elna so much. But I wonder why Cyril didn’t consider marrying her. I didn’t particularly feel like Andrea was bringing that much to the table, but she’s meant to be the villain so I might be being unfair. I loved Sandy and Jocelyn, though! I wish Danny & Maeve would’ve taken more care of them in their later years.

I thought it was so sweet how much Danny loved and admired Maeve. (I mean, he named his daughter after her for crying out loud -- a fact at which I was quite surprised his wife let him do. And I was not surprised in the least that they divorced after Maeve died.) However, when Maeve gets sick and she tells Danny he owes her, I completely disagree; I don’t think he owed her anything anymore. I mean, he went through YEARS of schooling to stick it to Andrea AT MAEVE’S insistence and all throughout his life he supported her and took care of her even when she didn’t want him to. I don’t think he shouldn’t have, but since he did, I felt he could’ve put his foot down a bit more, but I think that just speaks to his love and admiration for her. (I also think he thought she was more fragile than she may have been but who knows.)

I’m still not sure why Maeve and Celeste didn’t get along -- and obviously, they didn’t know either -- and I wish they would’ve just reconciled. But, as Danny says often, everything Celeste didn’t like about him, she blamed Maeve for. I guess she really wanted to be married, particularly to Danny. I kind of see a slightly more tolerable version of Andrea in her for that.

I thought Norma willing to be Danny’s sister (after Maeve AND Andrea died) was about the best possible way their lives could’ve merged and the best relationship they’d probably ever have. Of course, I understand why it didn’t happen until it did and why it couldn’t have happened any sooner, but I wish it had.

Lastly, I wish the author would’ve said a little more about Maeve never having a love interest (Simon doesn’t count) because while it’s no one’s business, I respect her deciding that marriage wasn’t for her and she’s independent and likes her life the way it is without needing to be tied down to anyone, as it were, and I just wish that had been made more prominent. One could argue a million other reasons why she chose to live a single life, including being afraid of being left since her own mother had left her, or that she’d been too focused on Danny, so maybe that’s why.

Okay, I definitely need to go back and read this book again sometime! Enjoy!

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naokimizutani-blog · 7 years

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My Experiences, Perspective, My Why, My Vision, Point Of View On the World, And What I Believe In...

Hey guys. This is my first blog, so some of you might need a little background story.

I’m currently living in Tokyo with my wife and cat. I teach Transcendental Meditation and living a comfortable life here. It wasn’t always this way, as I’ve had to find my purpose, persevere and overcome my lack of patience…which I’m still working on.

I was born and raised in downtown Los Angeles. Some people say they’re born in a “big city” when they’re actually born in the outskirts “nearby.” I was born in the middle of LA in Korea Town. Not the best of places, but it’s where my parents started when they immigrated from Japan with only a dream and drive to succeed, and eventually raised a family with three kids, a cat and a dog.

I never thought of myself as a minority, since I didn’t understand that there was even a majority. People were always people to me.

At home, my parents would speak Japanese. My father was from Kagoshima, Kyushu and my mother was from Osaka near Tennnoji. Luckily, I was placed in an environment where I didn’t have a lot of Japanese friends, so outside of the house, I spoke “SoCal” English. I write “SoCal” because later on, when I moved states for college, I found out the rest of America, or even the world, doesn’t speak the same laid back, “nah-man-everything’s-coo” English I spoke back in my hometown.

It also took me 25 years to realize that the Japanese I spoke at home was NOT the Japanese spoken by most people in Japan either. When I first came to Tokyo and heard formal Japanese (“keigo”), I had no clue what was being said. The clerk at the cash register would always look at me funny because I looked Japanese but couldn’t speak it fluently, which is a thing I sometimes still struggle with today. I probably come off as a Korean student who studies Japanese. These days, it seems the less I speak and just do subtle gestures combined with perfectly timed words, the more I fit right in.

Dialects are a real strange thing. I mean, can you imagine? What if you were born in an area with a specific dialect, and you moved out of your hometown only to realize that your dialect made you sound unintelligent to most people. Luckily the dialects I landed with weren’t so bad, but just a food for thought for those of you raising your children.

My parents were natural entrepreneurs. My dad owned an electronic store in Osaka, which is where he met my mother. (A really cute and funny story there that I’ll save for another blog.) It was during the economic bubble in Japan, so it was a good time to open up shop. He then sold it, followed his dreams, and flew to Los Angeles. My mother followed him to America a year later, and they eventually opened up a Japanese restaurant in Cypress, Orange County.

For all of my childhood, from preschool to high school, my parents were running their restaurant business. During my elementary school years, I’d go there after school and hang out in the back room until my mom finished work. I remember there was always a lot of customers. It was probably the fact that no one else in the area offered teriyaki bowls, sushi, udon noodles, yakisoba or chicken karaage. All I’ll say is that the food at home was ALWAYS good. :)

I admired the culture they created with their customers. Everyone seemed to know my parents by name, and even the police and fire fighters would come in and high-five me.

The only time I got in trouble for being there was when I got bored waiting and stuck my hand in a mountain of rice grains. It felt pretty amazing, but I learned never to mess with quality assurance when a customer witnessed me and my mom brought her scolding thunder.

My mother hardly speaks English, even today, and she claims you only need two things to survive in another country. A smile and “thank you.” I guess that’s why I naturally always smile and say thank you.

My parents did a pretty good job in keeping all three kids out of trouble. They kept us busy. Besides regular school, I trained in a basketball league 3-5 days a week with a weekend game. It wasn’t the league for aspiring Michael Jordan’s and Kobe Bryant’s, but the Asian one. I seriously thought I was pretty good at basketball until I met guys twice my size in Jr. High and High School that easily swatted my threes and dunked over my low defensive stance.

You know that feeling when you train every day and night, even though the lights are out at the park, trying to perfect your moves and shots for 10 years, only to find out you were living in a small bubble and there were guys with better genetics and more talent than you? It’s basically what happened to me with karate, piano, and golf as well, even though I won a lot of competitions, received awards, and featured in local newspapers…in my small bubble.

Basketball and karate brings a lot of good memories, though. It wasn’t winning the competitions and being the best that I enjoyed. It was the process of improving myself and enjoying the community.

My Jr. High and High School years were colored with hip hop, breakdancing and DJing. The Fugees, Tribe Called Quest, Tupac, Ice Cube, Rakim, KRS One, EPMD, Wu Tang, Biggie, DJ Qbert, Mix Master Mike, come to mind. It was always for fun, and my homiez always knew how to have a good time. After school, I’d swim at my friend’s pool, go snowboarding, or have bonfires at the beach. Life was good in the SoCal way.

Since my parents were also successful in network marketing as a side business, I remember being taken to large mansions with 13 rooms overlooking the Pacific Ocean. It was sitting in on meetings and events like these where I learned that business was all about building a community, and financial success was just an outcome. It seemed like the business part was only an excuse to get together because 80-90% of the conversation was about family and kids.

My dad took the family on a local trip every weekend, we had a family trip multiple times a year, and visited our relatives in Japan once a year up until I was in high school.

My parents wanted all three kids to at least be able to understand Japanese and speak to our grandparents, so on top of going to weekday school and all the extra curricular activity, we went to Japanese school on Saturdays.

Boy, did I hate it. It wasn’t that it was hard or difficult. I just really didn’t like the mentality and culture at the Japanese school. Being raised in an American culture, especially in the “sunshine” culture of LA where you’re free to express yourself, going to Japanese school felt like the cringe most people feel when they hear about what’s going on in North Korea. Rigid, so many rules, and very top-down hierarchy. Eek.

It made me appreciate the American culture even more. I excelled in American school, but never did my homework for my Japanese school. I made a ton of friends during the weekdays, but got in a fight every Saturday. It was two opposite worlds, and it was stressful. I think I took out all my aggression and frustration in sports and recreation.

Then, the next day of the week were the peaceful days at Sunday school. That’s where I gained exposure to profound questions to life. It naturally made me think deeply, and put the small things into perspective. It set the foundation, the “thesis” for the direction in my life.

College felt sudden to me. I wasn’t prepared AT ALL. My parents were immigrants, so they didn’t know what to do or how to prepare. With my so-so grades, I cruised right into San Diego State University and that’s when I found out college was about drinking and partying. There was literally a free shuttle bus that would take students from college campus to Tijuana to go party. It all felt lame to me, so my attention went inwards to search for truth and what’s real. It made me ask bigger questions and initiated my soul searching.

I ended up transferring to a private college that specialized in traditional oriental medicine. It was my first exposure to acupuncture, herbs and hippies! I was fascinated because it was a new world to me and off the beaten path. After getting certified as a therapist, I continued my soul searching while attending community college.

During that time, one book that grabbed my attention was the “Autobiography of a Yogi” by Paramahansa Yogananda. I visited the Self-Realization Fellowship temples, participated in some classes, and learned some meditation techniques. The Eastern traditions were drawing me closer and closer, and I became fascinated with ancient Vedic knowledge.

One day, somewhere in Pasadena, I was walking home from a rock concert featuring Yellowcard, and saw a poster for the preview of “What The Bleep Do We Know” at a local bookstore. I was fascinated by the concept of quantum physics, mind over matter, and the law of attraction. To be honest, a lot of the speakers seemed too “out there” for my taste, but a Harvard professor caught my attention - Dr. John Hagelin.

I found he was a faculty member of a little known college in the middle of Iowa, called Maharishi University of Management (MUM). I searched for their website, and felt goosebumps. My gut feeling was telling me to go, so I convinced my dad to visit with me and I ended up becoming a student within a few months.

MUM was in a small town located in Fairfield, Iowa. The first reaction from my older sister, Jenny, was “Why are you going to Ohio?” It made me laugh, but I honestly didn’t have a rational, logical reasoning. I just had an intuition.

At MUM, I learned Transcendental Meditation, meditated twice a day with thousands of students, professors and people from many different countries. It was the world I started to glimpse at the oriental medicine school, but multiplied by a thousand.

Fairfield is a town of 10,000 people, where the majority of residents are health conscious artists, entrepreneurs and business owners. Those 5 years taught me what was possible on a community level if enough people agreed to a common lifestyle. My perspective of the world went from a dark, violent world, to a stress-free, peace-loving one.

I majored in Environmental Science, and minored in Vedic Science. Then, my last year was focused on mathematics and physics. I ended up being the assistant for Dr. John Hagelin’s first-year physics course, which was a crash course on fundamental physics and quantum physics.

I then found an opportunity to go to the Maharishi European Research University (MERU) in Vlodrop, Holland. Let me tell you, the feeling of the place made it seem like it was a different world. The closest thing I can relate it to is the Jedi counsel in Star Wars. Yoda was like the TM founder Maharishi Mahesh Yogi, and the Jedi masters were like the many leaders from various countries. Some were from countries I probably wouldn’t be able to point out on a map even if my life depended on it. Kyrgyzstan, Brunei, or Malta anyone? MERU was like an extension of Fairfield, but more organized with a bit more of a corporate feeling to it. Kind of like a miniature United Nations, but without all the greed and corruption. After all, it was the headquarters for the global TM organization.

I was at MERU when Maharishi passed away, and suddenly flew over to India to attend the grand ceremony. Yes, India. Who would have ever thought I would end up in India? It was a major culture shock. My heart and mind were not prepared for the trip. I stayed close with a few friends I made at MERU who became some of my most cherished friends even today.

We backpacked it through rickshaws and cows, hopping on trains, and spending the night at one-star hotels. There’s a reason why people who have gone to India bond instantly. It’s because they’ve experienced something most people have never seen. A few places we visited: New Delhi, Allahabad, Varanasi, Rishikesh, Himalayan villages and a random city in Jabalpur, where we visited palm leaf astrologists, called Brighu Pandits.

After 90 days of travel, spiritual growth, and stomach problems, we said farewell and some of us flew to Phuket, Thailand. It seemed like paradise with coconuts, durian and white sand beaches.

Life took a 360 turn around after my trip, though, when I got back home to my parents place. I was 25, and received a phone call to be invited to help with educational conferences in Japan for the summer. The only reason I was invited was because I graduated from MUM, was Japanese, and made a connection at MERU. I helped set up conferences in Hiroshima, Osaka, Kyoto, and Tokyo, which had some really high profile people.

Remember how I didn’t enjoy my Japanese school? It was basically the same situation, but worse. Go figure! I was too independent minded. I spoke when I wasn’t supposed to. Everything was backwards for me, and I must have upset a lot of “seniors” because I disturbed their way of doing things.

During the storm of cultural clash, I somehow met my wife, Yoko. There were three times in my life when I had a gut feeling of assurance. The first time was finding MUM. The second time was becoming an instructor of TM. The third was finding my wife. I’ve heard when the emotion and intellect integrate, there is a knowingness. It’s called intuition. It’s what I’ve based my life decisions on, and it hasn’t seemed to fail me. (Knock on wood)

From that moment on, my life was spun around, and I ended up marrying Yoko in less than a year of knowing each other. I began living in Japan without any plans or preparation, and really struggled to make ends meet at first. While gaining practical experience in life, such as paying the bills, working, and building a comfortable home, I simultaneously began to meet a lot of clairvoyants and clairaudients. The “SoCal” part of me would say “get-outta-here” but it’s just a normal day for me now. I don’t know why or how I meet them, but it’s just a reoccurring pattern. Must be some kind of pattern in nature.

Being in Japan, for me, has been a process of integrating my heart and mind, the left and right brain. I’ve been to high-end business seminars and personal development seminars. I’ve taught English for GABA, and rated with 5-stars at their Shinagawa office. I worked for a moving company, organic market, a farm, and as an international salesperson for a prototype car manufacturer. I don’t know what happened to all the samurais in Japan, but I think many of their offsprings work in the auto industry now. There’s a reason why Japan makes some of the best cars and technology in the world. There is a culture of being very organized, systematic and detail oriented.

After overworking, nearly breaking my back and having internal breakdowns from losing the "American” part of me, my wife and I had an intuition to become certified TM instructors and we both took a leap of faith. It was five and a half months of intensive meditation, training and bliss.

When Yoko and I graduated, we were ready to take on the world. We felt refreshed, filled with optimism and enthusiasm. Out of the group of teachers who graduated with us, we were the first to open our TM center in Akasaka. From a national average of 3 to 5 clients per month, we had 30 to 50 people sign up starting the first month. We already had a network of friends and clients who trusted us, and we used all our previous experience and knowledge about business to really make it a success. We soon became the most successful instructors in Japan, and became one of the highest performing teachers in the world.

No one grows with easy growth. All successful entrepreneurs experience a “punch in the face” that made them evolve and improve. I’ve experienced a fair share of my own, which had to do with a cloud of jealousy that overshadowed the blue sky above us and someone decided to close our center and take us off the map. It was one of those Japanese ninja tactics. I never received a clear answer as to what happened, but I can guess why. It’s one of those things in life you couldn’t do anything about, and it wasn’t worth fighting about. I decided to suck it up and move on.

We eventually managed to establish an independent TM organization in Japan with the approval from the international organization, and opened up our new TM center in Shinjuku, Japan, which is our current location. In the first 3 years, thousands of people have come through our doors.

We focused on nurturing our community, and created a wealth of loyal friends who referred their friends and family. We even had the privilege to teach an entire company with a hundred fifty employees. We have regular weekend retreat courses in Izu, and regular advanced lectures and courses around Japan. It may not be a place that everyone would be attracted to, but it seems fit for those people who like a positive, young and successful atmosphere, which is the way I like it.

The most difficult thing for me was learning patience to manage a company. Everything was new to me, and I had to learn about administration, finances, marketing, and sales, which I had no idea how to do. I only knew in my gut the direction I needed to take the company, but the process was very slow. It was the grind.

The only way to keep myself from giving up was cultivating my gratitude. The top things you need in creating a successful business is purpose, perseverance and patience. Without it, you’ll end up wanting to take shortcuts that eventually bite you back somewhere down the road.

I’ve been lucky with moments that seemed to be too good to be true. Call it serendipity or synchronicity, but when we were in the deep with our company, something or someone always seemed to come around to bring us back to where we needed to be. It’s like an invisible hand. I believe when you genuinely want to do good for others, and you’re doing your best to make it happen, the opportunity for luck to come into your life increases. I’ve been lucky many times in my life.

At the end of the day, no matter how hard the grind is, it comes down to joy and laughter. My wife thinks I’m the comedian, but she cracks me up multiple times a day. Laughter helps to keep things in perspective and makes the process so much more enjoyable. There are 99 million things to be worried and frustrated about everyday, but there’s always at least 1 thing you can find to laugh about. When I find it hard to find that one thing, it’s usually because I’m in the deep end of being too serious. I like to take a moment to smile at how intensely focused I am. Taking one step back, seeing the big picture, and just appreciating and finding the humor in every situation always helped me get through the darkest hours.

When you cultivate joy and laughter, it radiates and it’s what people are naturally attracted to. Everyone knows life isn’t easy, and if you don’t know, you probably still live with your parents or got a lucky break. When you radiate this joy, people want to be a part of it, and want to share it with others. We’ve been lucky to have a flow of referrals from our dedicated community only through word of mouth.

I have learned that in business your pipeline is your lifeblood and it always needs to be full. You have to constantly create awareness in prospective clients, provide enough information so they can do their own research and become interested, make an offer, deliver a good quality product or service, and follow up. You always need to have the energy flowing in your business. Otherwise, you’re not flowing. You’re not moving. That causes the wheels to stop turning and your company comes to a hault. Keeping your eyes on the whole process while focusing on the details takes some practice.

If done right, you can eventually create 500 true fans. It’s all you really need to create a success business and a comfortable life. For example, if you have 500 people who trust you, and like you and your services, they’re ready to be a part of your events, courses, and activities. Let’s say those 500 people purchase your $30 product or service. That’s $15,000. For most people, that’s a comfortable monthly income. For most businesses, that’s not all that difficult to achieve.

You start to create a culture where people gain value through the community and being together. Just how an organism is made of many microorganism, or how the galaxy is made of many stars and solar systems, your company becomes sustainable with 500 true fans.

Currently, I feel I’m getting ready to move on to another level in life beyond teaching TM and managing a TM center. After teaching hundreds of people and seeing the change in their life, I’m now drawn to helping others build a business that is fueled by their passion and purpose.

I need to do me. I have to keep following my intuition and joy. So I’ve created the Cosmic Entrepreneur program to help people build a mind body startup with 500 true fans. This can be beneficial for people just getting started or business owners who want to learn a more “zen” way of doing things. There really is no need to become a millionaire to live a good life. I’ve done a million and a half, and I can tell you it doesn’t really change anything other than the fact that you can buy more things. You still have to work on you, and I’m sure your wife will happily remind you of that.

Becoming wealthy isn’t a bad thing. However, it’s the unsatisfied small ego that wants to continuously grab a hold of millions and millions of dollars that you can’t even manage. It causes an imbalance of what you desire and what you actually need. This causes strain. All you need is to create a sustainable ecosystem in your business, so that you can enjoy the process called life. A business is always to support your lifestyle, not the other way around.

With the ever-changing field of marketing, online platforms, and social media, etc., it’s effecting the global economy and the large corporations. The media agencies on Wall Street are definitely feeling it.

I believe more and more people will want to become independent. There will be a growing number of house wives who start a home business and create their own independent income. More 14 year olds will become YouTubers and eBay flippers, rather than becoming hamburger flippers. Experienced professionals will become freelancers or contract workers, rather than caging themselves in a corporate environment. There is already a growing number of entrepreneurs and business owners, which only creates more opportunity for investors, angels, and philanthropists.

My intuition also tells me more and more people will want more balance between their happiness, health, and wealth. More people will want less B.S., such as these self-help gurus who don’t have real solution, talent or life experiences. People will steer away from these “make money fast” gurus who have never owned a real business. Those who took shortcuts may do well in the short term, but in the next 5, 10 or 20 years, the market will separate the authentic from the phony.

People will need to stop chasing an unreachable dream and become comfortable with who they really are, not what the media tells them to become. People will naturally enjoy more down time, family time, and being a part of a community. Technology, artificial intelligence, virtual reality and e-sports will change the way we use time, socialize and make purchases.

To be happy and comfortable, you don’t need to be a millionaire, be famous, or live each day to extremes as if it was the last day of your life. We just need to be ourselves, and less influenced by what others think of us. The next 5 or 10 years are going to challenge every one of us to find our purpose, perseverance, and patience.

Do you.

I’ve been in this business for about a decade now. I’ve met a lot of gooneys and some of the most amazing individuals. I’ve had my highs, and I’ve had my lows. I’m fascinated by it. I’m growing fast. I’m learning fast. I’m still a student of this stuff, but I have a service to offer for those of you getting started or want to take things to the next level.

I’m starting a series of talks called “Mind Body Startup with 500 True Fans.” It’s an integration of my new venture Cosmic Entrepreneur and TM Japan.

There is a process I created called Be-Do-Thrive. Be, meaning going within and getting to know yourself. Do, meaning finding a suitable business model that suits your lifestyle. Thrive, meaning utilizing the latest platforms to reach and nuture your 500 fans as quickly as possible. Topics include mind-body health, self-branding, building 500 true fans, latest marketing strategies through social media, and how meditation can help you in the process.

I hold lectures in Tokyo, which include a brief overview, a networking session to meet other participants, some demos, Q&A, and a mini-private session for those interested.

I also offer private sessions, live events and webinars, regular blog posts, videos, and share information on Facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn, Snapchat, Line, and Instagram. If you are interested, feel free to connect with me or email [email protected]

I wish you happiness, health and wealth, and most of all, I hope you enjoy the process of becoming more you.

Stay tuned to get the latest updates and insider’s tips.

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forgettingdanielle · 7 years

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Aesthetic asks, all of them.

flower crown: when did you last sing to yourself?-earlier today, cleaning my house. fairy lights: if a crystal ball could tell you the truth about anything, what would you want to know?-if I end up doing okay in life. I’m so afraid of failing. daisies: what is the greatest accomplishment of your life?-making myself become slightly more social. Although I am still working on this, I feel happier. 1975: what is the first happy memory that comes to mind, recent or otherwise?-Probably when I used to hangout with my cousins all the time. Now we’ve all grown up and never see each other. Also tied with clearing things up with my oldest brother. matte: if you knew that in one year you would die suddenly, would you change anything about the way you are now living?-maybe try to be less nervous about things. Just let things happen and go with the flow. black nail polish: do you have a bucket list? if so, what are the top three things?-I don’t think I necessarily have a bucket list. I have things I’d like to do someday. 1.) go to Ireland. 2.) go back to the ocean.3.) move to Washington/Oregon. Visiting there a few months ago was the most alive I’ve felt. pantone: describe a person close to your life in detail.-Dark hair. Oftentimes like a sour patch kid. Makes me smile. Sometimes knows how to comfort me, other times knows when to leave me alone. Makes me laugh. Doesn’t understand how much I care about him. Messy but lovable. moodboard: do you feel you had a happy childhood?-sometimes I did, sometimes I didn’t. Up until about 7 or so I think it was decent. stars: when did you last cry in front of another person?-I don’t normally cry in front of people. Keep it to myself, it’s much easier. plants: pick a person to stargaze with you and explain why you picked them.-I’d want someone who actually would enjoy it to the fullest, so maybe my good friend Larry? converse: would you ever have a deep conversation with a stranger and open up to them?-I probably wouldn’t open up completely but I’m more than willing to have a conversation. lace: when was your last 3am conversation with someone, and who were they to you?- jeeeeeeeze, I don’t normally stay up that late. Lol it’s been over a year because it was with Larry I’m pretty sure, when he was still stationed in Cali I think. handwriting: if you were about to die, and you could only say one more sentence to one person, what would you say and to whom?-I would probably choose Justin and just to let him know I love him. cactus: what is your opinion on brown eyes?-I’ve always loved brown eyes. They always seem so deep and loving. sunrise: pick a quote and describe what it means to you personally.-“keep your face to the sun and you won’t see the shadow” basically, keep your head up and stay positive. oil paints: what would you title the autobiography of your life so far?-fuck I don’t know. “Keep going”overalls: what would you do with one billion dollars?- probably pay off my debt, buy a house and save the rest. Help out family and friends and try to help others as well. combat boots: are you a very forgiving person? do you like being this way?-I feel as if I can be depending the situation. I give a lot of people second chances but if you fuck the second chance up too, that’s on you and I’m done. winged eyeliner: write a hundred word letter to your twelve year old self.-Hey. I know shits rough right now but you’ll come out of it. The girls that are bullying the fuck out of you right now are cowards who later on will want to be friends. Tell them to fuck off. Do your best in school and don’t worry so much. Your family life will not change much so try to get used to it earlier on. You will no longer be best friends with the boy you used to walk home with everyday and that’s okay. He’ll show his true colors and you won’t need that in your life. Don’t cry after hanging up that phone call. Don’t let it have that much power over you. Just be the best you that you can be and try to let the rest fall off your shoulders. It will be hard, I know. But you’re amazing and you will do fine. pastel: would you describe yourself as more punk or pastel?- I think I’m right in the middle. I don’t know. tattoos: how do you feel about tattoos and piercings? explain.-I love them. I have 9 tattoos and will be getting my 10th in another month or so. Express the fuck out of yourself. Do what makes you happy. piercings: do you wear a lot of makeup? why/why not?-I feel like I do. It makes me feel so much better about myself, its unreal. I’ve worn makeup almost every day since 7th grade and that’s kind of sad to think about. bands: talk about a song/band/lyric that has affected your life in some way.-owl city-fireflies. No detail. messy bun: the world is listening. pick one sentence you would tell them.-be nicer. Lol that kind of sucks but it’s all I have. cry baby: list the concerts you have been to and talk about how they make you feel.-Sara Evans- first concert, went with my brother and Larry. It was awesome. -Scotty McCreery- he was so amazing. -Dierks Bentley, Jon Pardi, Cole Swindell- the best concert I’ve been to yet. The adrenaline was unreal and everybody was so happy and crazy. I loved it. grunge: who in the world would you most like to receive a letter from and what would you want it to say?-I think my maternal grandmother, i would want an apology for how she treated me up until the point that I was old enough to walk away. space: do you have a desk/workspace and how is it organised/not organised?-i do have a desk at work, and i hate if it’s not organized. Everything needs to be in its place. white bed sheets: what is your night time routine?-Wipe off makeup, wash face, brush teeth, bathroom, make the bed how I want it, lay down, set alarm, lay in bed for hours until passing out. old books: what’s one thing you don’t want your parents to know?-the full story of all the shit I’ve gone through that they vaguely know about. beaches: if you had to dye your hair how would you dye/style it and why?-maybe a darker brown. I don’t really know. eyes: pick five people to go on an excursion with you. who would you pick and where would you go/what would you do?-Probs our group of friends, Justin, Bre, Josh, Maycie and Sean. I don’t know where we’d go. Maybe the beach or something? 11:11: name three wishes and why you wish for them.-more money: so I’m not stressed the fuck out about bills and shit. -my family to understand: they don’t seem to fully understand how I feel about our situation and they don’t seem to care either. -more free time: I feel like I’m constantly doing something. I never have time to relax and do things I’m interested in. painting: what is the best halloween costume you have ever put together? if none, make one up.-maybe the year I went as minion, I did it completely myself and looked cute as fuck. Lollightning: what’s the worst thing you’ve ever done while drunk or high?-I cried to a room of strangers about how shitty I felt about how my family was treating me. thunder: what’s one thing you would never do for one million dollars?-make someone feel bad. storms: you on only listen to one song for the rest of your life, or only see one person for the rest of your life. which and why?-I would probably pick Justin. One song would suck. love: have you ever fallen in love? describe what it feels like to realise you’re in love.- I have. It feels like pure bliss to me. Being completely happy doing even the littlest of things with someone you love. clouds: if you’re a boy, would you ever rock black nail polish? if you’re a girl, would you ever rock really really short hair?-I have had really short hair and I hated it. Lolcoffee: what’s your starbucks order, and who would you trust to order for you, if anyone?-Peppermint mocha is my go to. And I don’t care who gets it as long as they get it. Lolmarble: what is the most important thing to you in your life right now?-to succeed. To make a happy life for myself and the people I love.

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mycolorsarefading · 5 years

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Why Should That Mean It’s Not Real

I never wanted to have a “story.” Autobiographies are the most self centered things a person can do, and believing the fairy-tale, feel-good mantra that we are the heroes of our own stories rings hollow and naive. I am under no false pretense that my experiences in life merit a record of any sort, and I’m ok knowing that I’m as unimportant to the story of reality as the next guy who comes along.

That being said, I’ve found some freedom by writing down the thoughts jumbled around in my head as a means to both obtain clarity and confirm to myself that this is all real. For most of my life I’ve lived with an overactive internal world that was always richer and more engaging than the outer world in which I was forced to go through the motions. My reliance on my jungle of thoughts has made it difficult to distinguish the inner and outer worlds, and has far too often left me questioning if my experiences happened at all.

To quote Dumbledore when responding to Harry’s question about the reality of his post-death experience at Kings Cross: “Of course this is all happening inside your head Harry. But why should that mean it isn’t real?” So to cement for myself that my thoughts and experiences confined to my inner world are truly real, I’m documenting the pieces of my life I’ve kept behind walls for so long.

I grew up in a perfect piece of SoCal suburbia. So perfect it became a Netflix show. My family life was a picture of stability and there was nothing inherent about life that would cause me harm. Except for me. I remember absolutely nothing of my early childhood, but I am told I was a difficult child - fussy, particular, dramatic, not enjoyable to be around, and someone who was the rain on everyone else’s parade. I was the one you didn’t want around, and the one who would cause adults to sigh. I’ve been reminded many times how mean I was to my parents, how selfish I was with everything, and how it’d be easier to call me a burden than a blessing.

Of course, that’s all what I’m told. I have nothing of my own to bank that on, and can only trust that that’s the truth. And it must be, since it manifested itself in my “social life” as a kid. In elementary school I was bullied for being weird. I was good at school and didn’t like sports; rough housing and other “boy” things didn’t come naturally to me, and therefore neither did friendships. I never had a male friend my entire childhood, and the only friend I had was a girl named Jennifer who was my neighbor and had a video game console I could play. I was alone and turned to the insane imagination I had to invent the friends I couldn’t find in my real world.

When I was 9, my parents started attending church again and for the first time I experienced religion. They found a home at the first church they went to, an evangelical semi-Baptist church of the SoCal Protestant tradition. I was forced to socialize with new people, and was excited for the chance of new friends. While I did make “friends”, the best friend moniker remained unused and I experienced the same feelings of otherness I got at school. But this time, it was coupled with teaching that you are supposed to hate who you are and there are certain ways to think/act/behave to fit in with this group.

My later elementary school years were filled with the same feelings of otherness. I wanted to fit in with the boys. I could befriend the girls a bit easier, but I wanted a guy friend. But I was a nerd who played piano and joined the mini version of a glee club, who wore sweatpants all the time because he hated his body and hated his lack of athletic skill. In fifth grade, we were forced to sign everyone’s yearbooks explaining what we would remember most about them. I put thought into what I wrote, but when I got mine back - it was just pages of “He’s smart. He gets good grades. He’s smart. He gets A’s”. That’s all I was, my ability to be good at school. I went home and started smashing my head into the walls because I read that doing that kills brain cells, and I wanted to be dumber so people would like me. I kept slamming my head into walls routinely until I realized it only would give me migraines.

I’m junior high my parents decided to homeschool me so I could learn a Christian education. My social isolation increased, but by high school I did finally make my first close guy friend. By this point though, I almost didn’t even feel like a guy. Whatever men were supposed to do, whatever counted as a “guy” thing, whatever the expectations were of manly experiences - I had no connections to any of that. I definitely didn’t feel like a woman, but I had no connection to men either. At church things were frequently gendered: women’s bible studies, men’s breakfasts, women’s retreats, men’s camping trips, etc. The male events were always full of the same stereotypical white masculine charicatures, trying to lead the younger boys in role models of maleness. I developed my social chameleon skills learning to blend in enough in these situations so I didn’t stand out and had superficial connections to these church leaders. Father/son events were always the worst because my dad knew I wasn’t interested in the activities so we never went. I let him down as a son, and as a boy.

So I pretended. And through all of it, was raised in what I’m now comfortable calling cult-like situations. It was not a cult, but the thought processes, mantras, group think, emotional abuse, and gaslighting that occurred have enough of the same ingredients. I grew up without any sense of self esteem, worth, or confidence - because I was taught those are all explicitly evil. Self esteem was ridiculed, and any challenges I faced in life were my personal fault. Every time I’d reach out to an adult in my life about lack of friends, I was told “never expect people to just be your friend - you have to be a friend to them first. If you have no friends, you’re not doing enough on your end to make people want to be your friend”. When it came to dating, it was worse. Dating was evil and Satan’s way to lead people astray into sex. Biblical courtship was the proper means to a relationship, and you had to fix all your own problems before beginning that process or you’d lead your future spouse into your darkness.

I was told my spiritual gift was service. And I was happy about that - it felt good being needed. I poured myself into being useful, thinking that finally if I did enough things for people they’d see that I’m worth having around and things would be better. At church functions, my family and I would attend but not to enjoy the event. We would be there early setting up, in the background managing practical items (like finding extra chairs), and staying late to clean up. I was permanently helping, and any time I would question why I had to have others’ backs but nobody ever had mine - I was told that I should never expect people to be there for me, and that wasn’t the point of service. The point of service was to always be there for others regardless if you didn’t like it, felt it was unfair, or simply wanted a break. You are a servant, so others come first. You are never an “other” though, and how dare you expect someone to put you first - you aren’t worth that.

In high school I found a folder on my mom’s computer with her weekly prayers saved in separate documents for her prayer meetings. I opened them, and it was all full of similar requests and concerns. My dad’s job was difficult and she wanted him to have help and be safe. My sister was growing in her faith, and my mom wanted to be thankful for that. And me - I was struggling with my faith, I was the one she believed was not saved and was still doomed, I was the one who had issues to fix, and she was actively praying that I would never find a spouse until I came to Jesus and repented. I was her problem child; not only was it my fault I didn’t have friends, I had people pleading to God I wouldn’t find happiness until I fixed my problems. Whatever cards were there were stacked against me by the people closest to me.

The entirety of my existence in this part of my life was made worse by one thing that has been the genesis of most subsequent issues. I had already built walls and developed alternate personalities to fit the circumstances I needed to survive through - but my isolation and my walls were completed when I was 13. I discovered porn via the internet and discovered what masturbation was. As any preteen going through puberty this was par for the course. My issues started when I realized I was physically attracted to the men in porn. My whole life my crushes had always been on women. I pictured a life married to a ride-or-die kind of girl and the early phases of puberty did invoke a physical attraction to the female. But what terrified me the most took over and I couldn’t deny my attraction to men. I was scared because I knew being gay was evil. I was scared because I had nobody to talk to. I was scared because I had no romantic desires to men, and still had romantic desires for women. I was confused, alone, and trapped.

I went to a Christian college where these repressed gay desires kept festering. I had no outlet to try to figure out if my desires were real or just imagined. To avoid the issue I just never dated. That was easy to justify given my upbringing despite the intense pressure of the college to get married by the time you graduated. I did have one female friend I was incredibly close to, that we agreed during a relationship autopsy that we had in fact dated during college. There had never been any physical component to our relationship and I graduated college a confused virgin.

I moved to a major metropolis after college, far enough from home. While this move made me grow up and find my own voice away from the cult-like bubble of my upbringing, it ushered into my life the darkness that broke my brain and maybe my soul.

I finally had freedom of choice and could finally try to figure out my sexuality. I didn’t have a smartphone and dating apps were still fairly new, but there were enough websites around where I could take a chance at meeting a guy to explore with. Guys my age were not interested in me. I am fat, on the down low, and physically repulsive. For about a year I kept chatting, browsing personals, and figuring things out from the safety of a computer screen. After about a year, I chatted with an older man who wanted to meet and I felt brave enough to try. I got to his place and I had no idea what to do. He met me at the door and was obviously older than he said, and had to have been around 70. I was 22. And on that day, I had my first ever sexual experience with a creepy man 50 years my senior. It was mostly just kissing - but my first kiss was with this old man, as a naive kid trying to understand who he was. I don’t have a cute first kiss story.

Somehow that experience emboldened me though and I kept trying for more. My training kicked in and I just kept trying to find guys who wanted me who I could be of use to, never something that would be a mutually helpful connection. I followed darker and darker paths that led me into danger I can only now recognize in hindsight. When I was 24, I met a man online whose name I don’t recall. He was watching a movie and wanted a friend to cuddle and watch with him. It sounded fun and tame so I went. I hadn’t done anything more than kiss with a guy and wasn’t interested in that yet, so a movie night sounded fun. I show up, and the movies on and we start hanging out. He starts caressing me in a way that makes me feel uncomfortable but before I could say anything he was already shoving me down towards his crotch for oral. He’s taller and stronger than me so I don’t resist and I’m scared. He keeps my head in his hands as he forces me to give him oral, before tossing me aside and getting a condom. I’m slightly in shock and can’t comprehend what he’s doing until I can feel it behind me. I ask if what I’m feeling is his dick, just in enough time for him to say yes and shove hard. The next thing I remember I’m standing in his bathroom looking in the mirror, pale white and trying to check myself for blood. I’m in shock and leave his apartment pretending everything is fine. I don’t even know how I got home that night. I walked most of the 4-5 miles home but I know I got on a bus at some point. It took me hours, because I remember throwing up multiple times on the way and getting home as the sun rose. All I remember is the splitting headache, the vomiting, and the constant physical shaking all over my whole body. I did nothing and told no one, and responded nicely to his message the next morning saying I had a good time. That was the first time I was raped.

I kept trying to meet guys thinking I could get a better experience than that. I wasn’t even sure if I was physically enjoying it, and I did discover some physical issues that prevent a good sex life regardless of who I was trying to hook up with. I met another guy I connected with well and we hung out a few times platonically. I felt like I had maybe a new friend, and we were having some fun in the bedroom too on occasion. A few years into knowing him I was hanging out at his apartment one day when he started to get aggressive with me to indicate he was frisky. I was in no mood to do the deed but he continued to insist against my stated wishes to not. And no matter how many times I said wait or hold on - he continued. Until I blacked out. It took years, but I recognize now that this was the second time I had been raped but by someone I considered a friend.

I had years around this time when my continued pushes to explore trying to convince myself whether I was gay or not took me down paths I had to lie to a lot of people about to protect myself. I had health scares I couldn’t confide in anyone about, unless I divulged my secret. So I didn’t, and went at it completely alone. The darkness I encountered will stay with me to the grave, and the consequences were the depression I fell into and the continued fucking up of my head. Eventually enough was enough and I wanted to try a normal relationship to see if I could muster romantic feelings for men. I met a guy on a site I went crazy for. We went on dates, laughed a lot, and I thought I maybe put the worst behind me and turned over a new leaf. One day I had been hanging out with him and we went to his place to take a nap. We woke up later than we wanted to and he told me he had a hookup coming over he forgot about. He and I weren’t exclusive and I wasn’t bothered but I started to head out anyway. He asked me if I wanted to stay and join the two of them; I liked him so I said sure. In the triangle I found myself in shortly, he became rough. His aggression started getting unchecked and he forced himself onto me when I didn’t want him to and my panic set in. I said no, over and over again rapidly. He kept going and my nightmare relapsed. It took the third guy hitting him on the arm to tell him to stop to finally make it stop. He said sorry and I left to use the bathroom but pretended again that all was fine. And for a third time, I had been raped.

Throughout all of this, I worked a job with insane demands at times of the year that would cause me to sleep in the office at times, to have daily panic attacks, and to get ill from stress and anxiety. I was physically weak from stress, completely alone in my experiences outside of work, and in and out of deep depression for years. There was always a voice in my head telling me to kill myself, and at its worst I couldn’t shut it up I screamed. I would take vacation for a week to lay in bed and do nothing. I was suicidal but never attempted anything, so I felt like a failure at being suicidal. I couldn’t even try to kill myself properly. And the voices in my head from my childhood kept telling me it was my fault. I was evil for struggling with attraction to men, it was my fault for having no friends or community because I wasn’t fixing myself, I deserved to be dead for what I’d gone through, and it wouldn’t matter anyway because I had no worth (only use). Combined with an extreme hatred of self and body image issues, I’ve ended up with my share of mental illnesses. My brain is broken and my soul may be gone.

In addition to all of that, I’ve been through enough other trauma than I’d cared to. I’ve driven off a cliff due to black ice and developed a paralyzing fear of snow and mountains. Half my family is dead or in jail for a laundry list of crimes. I’ve seen a guy get mutilated and killed by a train he was shoved in front of. And so forth.

My job and my work is the only thing in my life in which I have confidence and a sense of safety. Like my fifth grade yearbook, I know that I am smart and capable and if there’s one thing I can protect about my life it’s that. I do however hold myself back there as well. I’m overworked and as a result I’ve had my pay curtailed for administrative check boxes not being completed timely. So despite fighting to be good at my job to protect my own sanity, I’m losing money over it. And one of my employees recently drunkenly yelled at me in front of a large portion of the office that I’m a terrible role model, a bad leader, and that nobody should ever want to be like me. My deepest insecurities about myself have just had salt rubbed in their wounds, publicly. The last bastion of my mental health is failing and it’s hard to not feel like it’s entirely my fault.

The icing on the cake is the most recent revelation I’ve had the horror of unraveling. I had a dream recently, that consisted of many things. I was in my therapists office, and I could see her notes. She was calling me an “it” in them. A female friend of hers came in and laughed in my face about needing therapy. And then the worst part. The room transformed and I was on a bed still talking to my therapist. It was grungy and two men entered from a side door. One of them I knew, dressed normally. The other looked like the human personification of a pig and was perverted and demented. The pervert came to the bed and sat down behind me. As I continued talking to my therapist he lifted my shirt and started rubbing my low back. I woke up screaming and sweating as he began to molest me.

The first man from the dream I knew. And I remembered everything. He was in college when I was 13, and I met him through church. He wanted to play video games and my parents met me hang at the place he was housesitting. I remember everything about that house. Every detail, every color, the layout - everything. Except the bedroom. Whatever my brain was trying to protect me from was in that bedroom. And with a lot of work to break down those walls and unlock whatever repressed memory is hiding away....I think I understand that I may have been molested as a kid. I don’t know for certain, and I don’t think I’ll ever truly know. But I think on that day, he took me into that room to show me his dick and possibly do other things. I’m going to continue to try to remember.

So I’m 30 years old. Raised in a semi-cult like religion. Maybe gay, maybe not. I’ve been raped 3 times. I’m almost always depressed and suicidal, and I have both PTSD and CPTSD. I work to the point of physical exhaustion and illness and I’m alone. Who I am is starting to hurt my performance at work and erode the only part of myself I don’t hate. While this is a glimpse behind most of my walls, there are walls that will never come down because if they do I will die. I know that happiness and relationships are not part of my reality anymore, and I’m working on my goal of contentment and acceptance.

This is my story. It’s all in my head.

....But it’s real.

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noxpress · 5 years

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Notes on The Argonauts

I finished reading Maggie Nelson's The Argonauts (2015). One down on the list of books I've set out to read this summer. It will very likely be the easiest of them all, I had no intentions for this one. I heard The Argonauts mentioned a few times by peers, I even had parts of it assigned in class, but I never bothered to look into it properly. I knew at a glance at a professor's scan that I liked the way Nelson incorporates quotes into her writing. I've always hated formal citation, cutting up my sentences with information. I also don't like compromising on others' ideas. If I could write only in a collage of block quotes, I would. I'm glad someone finally stuck it to them. It's Bluets I had actually intended to read, perhaps for silly reasons. First, simply because it wasn't The Argonauts, second because I like it when people have a thing and I thought the colour blue might be a thing, and third because the blurbs I skim-read announced a mix of prose and verse, which, in my experience of Anne Carson, is a great thing.I ended up with The Argonauts just because I wandered into a book store on a lousy day last month to indulge (a small few times a year I let myself buy a book new: on lousy days, or when there's really nothing else to go around). It was displayed right across the entrance. The shop had some kind of watery theme going. This edition has blue-purple waves for a cover, it's nice and simple. I did what I always do: opened to a page at random and gave it a glance to see if it looked palatable. There were lines of verse (good), they were about motherhood (this I wasn't so sure about, felt uneasy even). Either way, I walked out of there comfort-book under arm, without knowing anything about Maggie Nelson except her name, and completely forgetting about Bluets. I leave a trace in my books, so I can find my way again. The folded corners at the top tell me at what pace I read. The ones at the bottom tell me where I wanted to remember something the most. For Argonauts ,I tacked on a few other things: some blue post-it notes for further readings, three exactly, various pencil annotations, and a few words scribbled in the margins. I know I will came back to The Argonauts. The books I seem to refuse to preview properly are always such a surprise. I had that happen with The Bell Jar. I was 18 and had absolutely no idea what it was about and knew nothing about Sylvia Plath either. I was reading quite a few classic American novels that year (I know Why the Caged Bird Sings, To Kill a Mockingbird, The Catcher in the Rye, Post Office, Fahrenheit 541, Brave New World, Lolita etc.) and, given such a list, the Bell Jar could land pretty much anywhere in terms of what it was about. For some reason I had it pegged as something pastoral, perhaps Southern, and coming of age. My guess is Plath's gender amongst all the men had me lump it with Maya Angelou and Harper Lee. Nonetheless, the modernity of it, the content of it, the sincerity of it... hit me like a ton of bricks. Argonauts didn't have quite such a jarring effect, but it was a definite experience in the un-anticipated. I've spoken to a few girls my age about the strange turn some things appear to have taken in recent years. No one thinks to warn you. It suddenly dawned on me one day that pregnancy was something that I couldn't quite get in trouble over anymore. For the longest time accidental pregnancy just had this death-factor reaction of "I'd be completely fucked". It meant shame, it meant secrecy, it meant incredible burden if uttered. But somewhere in the midst of my extended family growing larger – older cousins and siblings making babies – it struck me that mothers (my mother, my aunts, 'my many-gendered mothers'), that is the gyroscopes of opinion and permissibility, were anticipating the emergence of a new generation of care. Hints are dropped in the form of stored children's books and stuffed animals – carefully, quietly, pragmatically kept. A tattoo artist warned me about places not to get tattooed. It is my responsibility to anticipate my body. The irony, and I love it all the more for it, is the tattoo I have of my family motto: nunquam non paratus, or never unprepared. It's from this strange perch – discovering what it means to be a fertile body in the eyes of others, and tentatively in my own – that I read The Argonauts. It is also from a place of naming and recognising, for the first time realistically, what ordinary devotion to someone means. I know this book is a valuable reading, but I'm aware of my own prematurity. I can anticipate the need to return to it, for whichever reason, and I know the next times will be different. For now, I've gathered some passages that struck me now, as I feel, as I was reading, as I am writing. They might seem oddly selective, but I think this is only a sign of how versatile The Argonauts is. In its richness it offers a multiplicity of readings (and I feel sure its generosity of quotes have just this purpose). Here are the lessons I gathered from Nelson and from those she speaks through: Writing: "As I labor grimly on these sentences, wondering all the while if prose is but the gravestone marking the forsaking of wildness (fidelity to sense-making, to assertion, to argument, “however loose)—I’m no longer sure which of us is more at home in the world, which of us more free.” (65) "What other reason is there for writing than to be traitor to one’s own reign, traitor to one’s own sex, to one’s class, to one’s majority? And to be traitor to writing.” (Parnet, 122) "Over the years I’ve had to train myself to wipe the sorry off almost every work e-mail I write; otherwise, each might begin, Sorry for the delay, Sorry for the confusion, Sorry for whatever. One only has to read interviews with outstanding women to hear them apologizing.” (Wittig, 122) "Writing to him felt akin to giving him a name: an act of love, surely, but also one of irrevocable classification, interpellation.” (175) I've been thinking for a while now about an act of naming and how names arrest things in flux. Also, see Anne Carson's introduction to Autobiography of Red. "Ordinary words are good enough." (25) “What exactly is lost to us when words are wasted? Can it be that words comprise one of the few economies left on earth in which plenitude—surfeit, even—comes at no cost?” (Carson, 60) "You know so much about people from the second they open their mouths. Right away you might know that you might want to keep them out. That’s part of the horror of speaking, of writing. There is nowhere to hide." (Myles, 121) I concur, writing is horrifying. I've also learned that writing can be wilted (129). "I gained an outsized faith in articulation itself as its own form of protection". (154) Gender/sex/binaries: "As if I did not know that, in the field of gender, there is no charting where the external and the internal begin and end—" (64) "How does one get across the fact that the best way to find out how people feel about their gender or their sexuality—or anything else, really—is to listen to what they tell you, and to try to treat them accordingly, without shellacking over their version of reality with yours?" (66) "Let him stay oblivious—for the first and last time, perhaps—to the task of performing a self for others, to the fact that we develop, even in utero, in response to a flow of projections and reflections ricocheting off us. Eventually, we call that snowball a self (Argo)." ( 118) In-betweenness: Matter and liminality are two of my research topics. It's been so pleasing, uncanny, to see them flit in an out of sight. It's really what this is about: being, becoming passage. “How to explain, in a culture frantic for resolution, that sometimes the shit stays messy?” (65) “On the one hand, the Aristotelian, perhaps evolutionary need to put everything into categories—predator, twilight, edible—on the other, the need to pay homage to the transitive, the flight, the great soup of being in which we actually live. Becoming, Deleuze and Guattari called this flight: becoming-animal, becoming-woman, becoming-molecular. A becoming in which one never becomes, a becoming whose rule is neither evolution nor asymptote but a certain turning” (66) Matter: "Spirit is matter reduced to an extreme thinness: O so thin!” (Emerson, 41) "Empirically speaking, we are made of star stuff. Why aren’t we talking more about that? Materials never leave this world. They just keep recycling, recombining. That’s what you kept telling me when we first met—that in a real, material sense, what is made from where." (151) "Made of star stuff" reminds of Nostalgia for the Light. I think it's the first time I understood space as a material history. Dust to dust and all that. Argo-, ordinary devotion, revisiting: "It reminds us that there is difference right where we may be looking for, and expecting, communion." (116) The year I fell in love with theory, theory of all kinds, even though this course was called "anthropological", I was assigned 'difference' as a theme to explore for one semester. I hold onto the word dearly now, because it has so much to teach. Now I hear the word "difference" and it makes me think of Deleuze in a purple jumper, slouched in a chair, talking about refrains. Deleuze taught me about communion too. What it means when two refrains commune, when two different scales encounter each other. Anthropology is all about encounters. Encounters are only possible with difference, however large or small. A zine called Friendship as a Form of Life, which is as beautiful as its title sounds, divided its pages into the following chapters: Common, Commune, Communion. I think about this sequence a lot. “The Argo’s parts may get replaced, but it’s still called the Argo. We may become more used to jumping into flight, but that doesn’t mean we have done with all perches. We ought to say a feeling of and, a feeling of if, a feeling of but, and a feeling of by, quite as readily as we say a feeling of blue or a feeling of cold. We ought to, but we don’t—or at least, we don’t quite as readily. But the more you do, the more quickly you can recognize the feeling when it comes around again, and hopefully you won’t need to stare as long.” (68) Hello from my perch. "Privilege saturates, privilege structures." "The self without sympathetic attachments is either a fiction or a lunatic…. [Yet] dependence is scorned even in intimate relationships, as though dependence were incompatible with self-reliance rather than the only thing that makes it possible." (Philips/Taylor, 126) I am learning this. "That’s enough. You can stop now: the phrase Sedgwick said she longed to hear whenever she was suffering. (Enough hurting, enough showing off, enough achieving, enough talking, enough trying, enough writing, enough living.)" (128) Yes, I can stop. Please stop. I'v been spiralling a little lately. "But whatever I am, or have since become, I know now that slipperiness isn’t all of it. I know now that a studied evasiveness has its own limitations, its own ways of inhibiting certain forms of happiness and pleasure. The pleasure of abiding. The pleasure of insistence, of persistence. The pleasure of obligation, the pleasure of dependency. The pleasures of ordinary devotion. The pleasure of recognizing that one may have to undergo the same realizations, write the same notes in the margin, return to the same themes in one's work, relearn the same emotional truths, write the same book over and over again—not because one is stupid or obstinate or incapable of change, but because such revisitations constitute a life." (140) This quote means so much to me at this particular time: as I cease to recognise myself, as I come undone and remade (argo-), as I learn what it means to feel so easily, to be so ordinarily devoted to someone. I was so ready to feel confused about questions of loss and gain, whether it was something to feel self-conscious about, to lose oneself to, or to rebel against. But the pleasure is simply what it is. It seems so obvious that I feel naive. Of course it's about the knowing itself, about matter and touch. It's always about what hangs in the air. I have someone to learn ordinary devotion for and the shock of this is still wearing off. I thought of it as a thawing at first, but 'to revisit' will be my mantra instead. Revisit, revisit, revisit. I am not gone, I am not new, "I am made and remade continually". (Woolf) "But is there really such a thing as nothing, as nothingness? I don’t know. I know we’re still here, who knows for how long, ablaze with our care, its ongoing song." (178) Refusing the nothing has been part of my venture these past months. It started with Elizabeth Povinelli's suffix "-ish", and all other blurring of boundaries, like between the living and non-living. Tim Ingold also refuses the nothing of atmosphere. Nelson's quote brings me back to communion: line-making, care, drifting, song-making, correspondence. Mother: "If all goes well, the baby will make it out alive, and so will you. Nonetheless, you will have touched death along the way. You will have realized that death will do you too, without fail and without mercy. It will do you even if you don’t believe it will do you, and it will do you in its own way. There’s never been a human that it didn’t. I guess I’m just waiting to die, your mother said, bemused and incredulous...” (167) "But to let the baby out, you have to be willing to go to pieces.” (155) "It's a happiness that spreads." (176) "...save the sense, likely unconscious, of having once been gathered together, made to feel real." (176) The things I want to look further into: André Breton's Mad Love Deleuze/Parnet dialogues Barthes' The Neutral (No, my francophilic tendencies are not getting any better).

#theargonauts #reading #books #mother #matter #liminal #devotion #writing #gender #sexuality #maggienelson

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